bustle I’m trying to be normal about this but #HudsonWilliams won’t let me.

thecut Cause of death: @connorstorrieofficial’s arrival on the #GoldenGlobes red carpet. 

i ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS MAN, someone save me

it took way to long to understand how to draw the snout or whatever its called oml

Winner

Finn Wolfhard x Female!Reader

warnings/tags: swearing

summary: you get the chance of a lifetime to work on the set of ST5 and you also catch the eye of finn!

wc: 4266

find my masterlist here!

hi lovliesss!! happy new year!! this fic was actually supposed to be A LOT longer but i decided to cut it short bc i haven't posted in a few weeks, so if it feels like it's incomplete...it kinda is. also i think i unintentionally wrote gn!reader but i don’t wanna tag it incorrectly, so if someone could lmk that’d be great :p. anyways the season finale has actually made me a shell of a person so yeah lol. hope everyone enjoys!

-----------------------------

You habitually picked at the skin on your thumb, an anxiety laden laugh escapes your mouth– opening college acceptance letters was a breeze in comparison to this. You were dumbfounded that you even made it this far. 

A top three finalist.

The submission post wasn’t even meant to be taken seriously. You honestly only submitted one to appease your friends who kept pestering you. They knew of your love for the critically acclaimed television show ‘Stranger Things’, having grown up with the show, and they also recognized your talent for writing, it was your major after all.

The contest was all across social media with every advertisement reading, ‘Submit your Stranger Things ending and you could be selected to join us in the writers’ room!’ 

The prompt was simple enough and having been a fan for so long, you had your theories. So pen to paper it went. Many hours were spent drafting and writing your submission, when you should have been studying for finals and completing assignments.

After all was said and done, you submitted your final piece and moved on with your life. The repetitious cycle of school and work took your mind off the contest. It wasn’t until a few months went by, did the contest cross your mind again.

Hundreds, maybe even thousands of notifications flooded your phone; multiple text messages from friends and family, comments from strangers on your Instagram, and finally a congratulations email and social media post from the official Stranger Things account announcing you as a top three finalist.

The opportunity of a lifetime was within arms reach. 

The anticipation continued to build during the week-long wait. And finally, the day came. You spent your entire morning shift at your campus’ local coffee shop looking at the clock on the register everytime you took a customer’s order, and you debated ditching your midday literature and film class to instead wait anxiously in your room for five hours, you decided against that.

Upon the return to your shared apartment, you were bombarded by your three roommates, all of whom were speaking over one another with questions and excitement lacing their voices. It was a struggle getting to your room with your friends trailing behind you as if they were baby ducklings. You managed to shut the bedroom door and lock it, effectively kicking your friends out of the room. You needed to be alone for the reveal, embarrassed at the fact that you may break down if you lost.

Retrieving you laptop from your backpack, you set it down on your desk and began to login. Each time your finger hit a key your heart thumped harder and harder against your chest as the adrenaline coursed throughout your bloodstream. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you checked the time on the screen again. One final minute remained until your fate was revealed. An uneasiness festered in your chest as you took deep breaths in attempt to satiate your anxiety.

The moment the clock switched to 5 PM you smashed your finger against the refresh key. The webpage thought for a moment, taunting you, before your emails began to load one by one. An unopened email sat boldly at the top of the inbox with a subject line that read ‘Stranger Things Contest Winner Announcement!’

Clicking on the email you squeezed your eyes shut, fearing the worst. Upon opening the email you were met with:

To whom it may concern,

We, the Duffer Brothers, would like to congratulate you on your skillfully impressive writing, and would like to thank you for showing us your passion for our show!

After careful contemplation with the help of our current writers and certain castmates, we have come to a decision. We would be honored to have you join our team and provide your ideas to complete the journey’s of our beloved characters from Hawkins, Indiana!

Please reply to this email to accept or deny this opportunity. If you do not reply within 24 hours, the opportunity will be given to the second place finalist.

We look forward to hearing from you, and once again, congratulations!

Sincerely,

The Duffer Brothers

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself, “Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!” You yelled, increasing your volume. At your voice, your doorknob began to frantically jiggle before a click of the lock sounded off. Bursting the door wide open, your friends barrelled in with frantic looks on their faces.

“I won!” You shouted at them with a grin plastered onto your face.

Pure chaos shortly ensued, your friends cheered and screamed and a chorus of ‘congratulations’ rang out. The night continued in celebratory fashion with champagne and a cake that read ‘We always believed in you!’ as they hurriedly shoved an alternate cake with the words ‘They don’t know what they’re missing’ into the back of the fridge.

Before you knew it, you put your academic pursuits on hold for your dream job and hopped on a flight that was headed for Atlanta. With the perks of winning the contest, you were living like royalty; an all inclusive first class flight to Atlanta, free housing for the duration of filming, and a monetary prize. Being the typical broke college student, you were beyond grateful for everything being given to you. 

You were given a week to settle in to your fully furnished apartment unit before you were scheduled to meet your new team. The week passed by quickly as you became adjusted, most days were filled with long phone calls home to friends and family about every detail and interaction you had in the new city.

The following Monday you were woken up by your phones blaring alarm. You typically weren’t a morning person but today you shot out of bed at the sound of the alarm, wanting to give yourself ample time to prepare for the big day.

With your bag packed with everything you could possibly need; notebooks, an assortment of colored pens and highlighters, and other personal belongings, you locked up and left for set.

Placing your headphones on your head, you set them to max volume and set off on the ten minute walk to work, taking in the sights and feel of Atlanta’s morning air. Your walk was uneventful, having spent majority of the time creating scenarios of what the day may entail, both good and bad.

As you approached the front gate, a girl, not much older than you, dressed in business attire rushed out of the building and towards you, “Hello! You must be our lucky winner!” The woman called out cheerily, motioning for the security guards to open up the gates.

The gates metal squeaked as they slowly opened up, allowing you entry. You peeled the headphones from your head and shoved them haphazardly into your backpack and stuck your hand out towards the woman, “That’s me! Pleasure to meet you…” You trailed off.

“Oh excuse me, I’m Lara, I’m a PA here on set. I’ll be the one giving you the tour and breakdown of the place,” she replied enthusiastically. “Why don’t you walk and talk with me! There’s lots to do and so many things that I’d love to show you!” You both make your way inside the building. 

Lara hurriedly gives you a tour of the building, highlighting certain areas that you would become very familiar with such as the writers’ room and smaller sets that were built on the soundstages, “Typically, all of our writers, aside from a select few, spend majority of their time in that one room. However, you my dear are a lucky outlier. I had the chance to read your submission and–,” Lara lets out a laugh of disbelief, “You–you are just pure talent,” you blush and thank her.

“Well dear, I think that covers pretty much everything tour-wise. Any questions? Did I tell you where the bathrooms are?” You nod your head and let out a light laugh, “Okay perfect! That leads us to our next bullet on the agenda!” Lara crosses off her next agenda item on her clipboard and guides you down a hallway that you vaguely remember from the tour.

“Like I mentioned earlier, you are our lucky winner here which has it’s perks but it also has it’s duties tied along with it. And one of those is a special promo video with everyone,” Lara stops at an unmarked door and slowly opens it for you. You glance at her with a questioning look on your face, “What do you mean by everyone?” With the door ajar, you are met with the entirety of the Stranger Things cast.

“Holy shit!” You holler out, caught completely off guard. Horror spreads across your face as you register what you said and a hand flies up to your mouth, “I’m so sorry,” you manage to squeak out.

The room breaks our in a roar of laughter, “That was the most perfect reaction ever!” A familiar voice calls out. Your eyes scan the group of actors that you’ve grown to love from a screen. 

“Come in, come in!” One of the Duffer Brothers calls out to you, motioning you to join the cast. Your steps are slow, afraid that once you reach everyone they’ll all disappear and you would wake up.

“We’re so glad you could join us! Everyone has been dying to meet you! Your manuscript has been passed throughout the entire cast and honestly, we all loved it,” you shake the Duffer Brothers’ hands, “Somebody pinch me,” you say airily.

“Fear not kiddo, this is real, and you are joining the Stranger Things family!” You beam at the brothers, “Now whattaya say we all head out for lunch and get to know our newest addition,” cheers echo throughout the room from the cast. 

The cast and you are split up amongst multiple vans with you being sat in the same van as Millie, Sadie, Finn, Noah, Caleb, and Gaten. The actors clamber into the van finding their designated spots. You stand their awkwardly and feeling out of place until Millie pats the spot inbetween her and Caleb, “Come sit next to me!”

The entire car ride to the restaurant the actors were asking questions about yourself and including you in all their jokes and playful bickering. Your heart warmed to see the people you’ve known your entire childhood so friendly and accepting towards you. 

The lunch went just as smoothly with the older cast taking their turn to get to know you and discuss your ideas for the show. After everyone’s appetites were satiated, Matt and Ross gathered everyone together for a group photo that would later be posted to social media. “Alrighty everybody let’s head back!” You shuffled alongside the cast back to the respective vans.

This time you were sandwiched between Finn and Caleb in the van. The ride back was less chaotic than the first go around as everyone was stuffed full of food and groggy. It gave you had a moment to digest all that happened in the past few hours. 

You felt a tap on your left shoulder, “Hey, you doing okay?” Finn asked in a hushed voice. Your eyes met his concerned brown ones and you a small smile spread across your face as you breathed out softly, “I’m more than okay. Just taking it all in,” Finn smiled back at your words, “Good, I’m glad to hear,” you nodded and turned to back to face forward.

Finn’s voice started once more, “Hey–uh–d’you think I could get your number or something?” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, “You’re a really talented writer and I’ve got a couple projects on the backburner, and I–uh was hoping maybe I could get your input?” Finn’s face scrunched up as he asked his question. You beamed at him once more, your face heating up, “I’m honored that you even asked. Here, hand me your phone, I’ll put my number in.”

Sadie’s voice suddenly came out from the row of seats in front of yours, “Wait! Me too, me too! I want her number too!” A plethora of pleas and whines followed Sadie’s and you were handed multiple cellphones, inputting your information into each one.

You handed the final phone back to its owner and sat back in your seat, “Don’t forget about me, I asked first,” a slight pout sat on the shaggy-haired brunette, “Saved the best for last,” you whispered back as you nudged his shoulder. As you handed Finn his phone back he looked at you contact profile, “You forgot something,” you furrowed your brows as you looked at the profile, “I don’t see anything. What did I forget?”

You leaned slightly more into the boy analyzing the screen when the boy quickly switched to his camera app and snapped a photo of you, “Hey!” You said in surprise. Finn made the photo your contact icon and showed it off to you with a satisfied smile on his face, “There, now it’s perfect.” Giggles drew your attention away from Finn and once again to Sadie, Noah, Millie, and Gaten, a quizzical look sat on your face as you tried to figure out what the group was laughing about.

Before you could figure it out, the car came to a halt and the vans doors opened up, “Alright kids, out of the car!” Everyone scrambled out of the car and gathered around the Duffer Brothers as they made their announcement, “That’s going to be a wrap on today! Everybody go home and get some rest as tomorrow some of you will be starting in costumes, some of us will be in rehearsal, and some of us will be in the writers’ room,” the brothers wiggled their eyebrows at you, “It was a wonderful day today and once again thank you all for your hardwork. I can’t wait to see what we all do with this final season!” The group of actors clapped and hooted at the speech and one by one began to disperse.

You bid your goodbyes to the castmates and made your way to find Lara. The PA handed you your backpack and schedule for the next week and the two of you parted ways. From your bag you retrieved your headphones and placed them around your neck as you readied yourself for the walk back to your apartment.

You lie in bed later that night staring at the ceiling, reflecting on the events that are your life. A buzz from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts. Your hands search blindly for the phone lost in the sheets, your grip it once you find it, squinting your eyes in preparation for its blinding light.

[unknown]: Hey! It’s Finn

Your heart began to speed up. Despite meeting the cast today and them being incredibly welcoming, you still were starstruck that they would want to reach out to you outside of a work setting.

[you]: hiii finn :)

[finn]: Just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. You had a big day!

[you]: yeahh, still can’t believe it if i’m being honest

[finn]: Totally, big changes always take a bit of getting used to. I’m always around if you feel overwhelmed!

[you]: thanks finn! i really appreciate it! everyone was so kind to me today, i felt so welcomed!

[finn]: You made it hard not to like you :). Plus you fit right it!

[you]: oh stoppp, you’re too sweet <3

[finn]: By the way, I was completely serious about wanting your input. You’re like a total wiz with your storytelling.

[you]: i’m glad you think so! i gladly accept the offer, whenever you want my help just lmk and i’ll be there!

[finn]: Perfect :) 

[finn]: You should get some rest, the real work begins tomorrow

[you]: i think i will

[you]: thanks again finn, i really appreciate you checking in

[you]: goodnight finn, sleep well <3

[finn]: Of course, anytime

[finn]: Goodnight. See you tomorrow :) 

You found yourself smiling throughout the entire text thread and rereading the messages after the conversation ended. The smile stayed on your face as you fell asleep.

The next few weeks were hectic as the work actually began. By the time you joined the team, they were about halfway finished with season five. The other writers eased into the process understanding that it was your first time in a setting like this. A handful of you ideas were chosen and adapted into the script and you were designated to write drafts for those scenes, which would later edited and pieced into the final script.

Episode six was currently in progress and yet it felt like everyone was at a standstill, “Okay, let’s take five. There’s no point in beating a dead horse,” said Matt, “Take a lap, use the bathroom, cartwheel down the hallway, whatever you need to do to get your creative juices flowing,” the writers shuffled out of the room, frustrated by the stint of writers block that they were all experiencing. 

You walked to the lounge, certain that a pick-me-up coffee would shake you out of this funk. You got in line to order and scrolled on your phone while you waited when you felt a tap on your shoulder, “Hey stranger, long time no see,” you turned around to find a familiar brown-eyed boy.

“Hi Finn! How have you been?” you ask, enveloping the man in a hug. Finn freezes for a moment, caught off guard by your friendly nature. Despite only seeing each other in passing and the occasional text, you chat with him like he’s an old friend.

“I’ve been good, been busy but I’ve been good. How about you? I always see you around but you always seem like you’re on a mission so I try not to bother,” he replies. “You’d never be a bother to me,” you exclaim, waiving your hand at the ridiculous thought, “It’s been good though, really good. Some of my ideas are being written into the script and I think that’s all I could really ask for,” you beam.

Finn smiles back, you’re really cute with how passionate you are about this project, he thinks to himself, “Yeah? Any of those scenes mine?” He wiggles his eyebrows, a smug look on his face. You let out a hearty laugh, “There may be a few,” you reply with mischief in your tone.

The barista calls out next in line and takes your order, Finn cuts in after you and places an order as well, “It’s on me,” he says and uses his card to pay, “Thank you Finn, you didn’t have to,” Finn smiles softly at you, “No, but I wanted to.”

“Would you maybe want to sit with me? I mean if you’re not busy?” Finn asks, scratching his head, “We’re on a break right now, so I’ll have to get back soon, but I’d love to,” the two of you find a semi-secluded table and talk about what’s going on in your hectic schedules.

Ten minutes pass by in what feels like seconds and the two of you part ways. Before you can get too far Finn calls out your name and you turn of your heel to face his direction, “What’re you doing this weekend?” he asks. You shake your head, “Nothing. Why?” Finn pulls out his phone and after a couple of seconds you feel yours buzz in your back pocket, “That’s my address. I’ve got a script that needs some work…but–uh only if you want to and if you’re not busy.”

“I’ll be there,” you say back, “Great, yeah–awesome,” he replies and shoots finger guns at you, “Well–cool. Yeah, I’ll see you around then.” You smile and let out a breath of amusement, “Bye Finn,” Finn watches your figure get smaller and smaller as you retreat back to the writers’ room. He rubs his face and mutters to himself, “Nice going Finn, real smooth.”

The next few days leading up to your hangout had you extremely giddy, you tried not to get yourself too worked up and attempt to convince yourself that Finn only asked to meet up because he wanted another opinion on his work, but that didn’t stop you from calling your best friend back home and freaking out.

You arrived at Finn and Gaten’s shared apartment complex that Saturday.

[you]: hey, i’m here!

[finn]: Awesome, I’ll come down to get you

You rocked bath and forth on your heels as you waited; the ding of the elevator catching your attention. As the doors opened, Finn stood there with his hands in his pocket. Stepping out of the elevator, he approached you and enveloped you in a hug, “Hey! I’m so glad you could make it,” you happily embraced him back.

You follow Finn back into the elevator, a slight awkwardness hung in the air as the elevator slowly ascended. Finn cleared his throat, “Thanks again for agreeing to this,” you brush off his thanks, “It’s nothing really. I’m really just flattered that you like my writing that much,” Finn scoffs, “Like your writing? I don’t just like your writing. Y’know the Duffer Brothers had a couple of castmates read the submissions and as soon as I read yours…I knew we found our winner. You seriously ruined any other submission that I read,” you looked at Finn in awe.

“And that’s exactly why I want your help with this stupid script,” Finn finished as the elevator door opened. He led you into the apartment, it wasn’t anything too fancy nor was it in the typical state you’d expect from two men in their early twenties.

“I think Gaten said he’d be back in an hour, so it might be a loud if you wanted to stay in the living room. Otherwise we could work in my bedroom, up to you,” you agreed to work in Finn’s room, claiming that you would concentrate better.

Finn’s room was an amalgamation of everything he liked, posters of the Beatles and other bands littered the walls, instruments and music equipment were strewn about, and he even had a small DVD collection on one of his shelves. You took in the room, smiling to yourself at how much of him could be found in his room. 

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” you plopped yourself onto the bed and set your backpack down on the floor nearby as Finn riffled through his desk drawers for his script. He explained the premise as he handed the papers to you. You scanned through the pages and storyboard that he developed. Finn sat across from you at his desk chair, his leg nervously bouncing and habitually biting his fingernail, “I know, I know. It’s shitty isn’t it.”

You quickly shook your head and protested, “No! Not at all. It’s an interesting and unique concept. It’s just a bit…what’s the word…underdeveloped,” you patted the spot on the bed next to you, “Here, come sit,” Finn took the spot as you provided your ideas.

Finn listens to you talk and swears that he could listen to you for hours on end. Not only were you beautiful, you were so passionate and confident in your abilities and Finn thought that was so hot. After laying out your final thoughts you turn to look at Finn with expecting eyes, waiting to hear his feedback. He stares back dumbstruck, if there was a sliver of a chance that he didn’t like you before, he definitely did now, “I know I keep saying it, but you’re actually a genius. How do you even think to come up with this,” you felt your face heat at his words.

“It just kinda comes naturally,” you murmur. The two of you are leaned in close together, but neither of you seem to notice, or care. “Well it’s a good thing I found you,” Finn says softly. You don’t know how it’s physically possible but you move in closer. Finn’s eye glance at your lips and quickly shift back to your eyes.

The bedroom door suddenly slams open, “Finn! Finn!” You and Finn jump apart from each other, “Guess what I–,” Gaten stops mid-sentence and stares at the scene in front of him with wide eyes, “Fuck. Shit. Sorry!” He calls out as he shuts the door just as quickly as he opened it.

Finn leans his body back against his headboard, putting his hands on his face to cover his embarrassment, “I’m so sorry,” he sighs out. You stare at the man hiding behind large hands. You fidget with your thumb, taking a moment to decide your next move, and grab ahold of his wrist. You rub your thumb alongside the back of his hand, trying to soothe him, “Don’t worry about it, seriously,” he peeks at your face, still embarrassed about the situation.

You quickly lean in and peck his cheek, “See? All better,” you whisper, your face centimeters close to his. Finn doesn’t let another opportunity go to waste and catches your lips is a soft kiss, testing the waters. You don’t hesitate to kiss back and your lips move in sync. The kiss is tender and sweet, exactly what you want from a first kiss with him. You reluctantly pull away, breathless, Finn looked at you languidly, “What would you say if I were to hypothetically ask you on a date,” he breathed out. A giggle escapes your lips, “Hypothetically, I would say yes,” a small smirk appears on Finn’s lips, “Next weekend? I’ll come pick you up.”

“I’d like that,” you recapture his lips once more.

tags: @babyt0matoes @mosquitooo1

Drunk nights with you (Sonar x f reader smut)

Authors Note: Take this as a "I'm sorry I've been slacking on 'what we never got over'" gift, for some reason I finally got the motivation to write again but specifically smut and honestly not entirely sure how good this is LOL, as always please feel free to provide constructive criticism. This is just a random one off thing with little to no plot lmao

Read on Ao3 Here!

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut, p in v, oral receiving, teasing, cursing, drinking, slight mention of sonar liking blood, sonar bringing up Harvard constantly (don't really know what else to tag just know this is smut)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

My partner in crime ditched me. But, well, as far as excuses go, he had a pretty good one.

STEVE HARRINGTON 5.08: The Rightside Up

STRANGER THINGS 5.08: The Rightside Up

RUINED

the house party is loud and sloppy, the kind where the floor sticks to your sneakers and every room smells like cheap beer and weed. you’re way past buzzed—tequila shots chased with warm jungle juice, your head swimming, balance gone. boyfriend texted an hour ago that he’s crashing at his buddy’s after “one more round.” you didn’t even reply.

your thumb hovers over steve’s contact for ten seconds before you hit call. it rings once, twice.

“what’s up?” his voice is rough, like he just woke up or was halfway through a joint.

“steve.” you laugh, but it comes out shaky. “i’m fucked up. like… really fucked up. can you come get me? please?”

a beat of silence. you hear him exhale hard. “where are you?”

you slur the address. he curses under his breath. “don’t move. i’m leaving now.”

when his headlights cut across the lawn, you’re sitting on the curb, elbows on your knees, staring at your shoes like they’re the most interesting thing in the world. he kills the engine, gets out, walks over without a word. squats in front of you.

“look at me.”

you do. slowly. his eyes are dark, jaw tight. he smells like rain and that same cedar cologne he wore senior year.

“how much?” he asks.

“too much.” you try to smile. it wobbles.

he doesn’t smile back. just hooks an arm under your knees, the other around your back, and lifts you like you weigh nothing. carries you to the passenger seat. buckles you in. you lean your head against the cool window the whole drive, streetlights streaking past.

he takes you to his place. not yours. you don’t argue.

inside it’s quiet, dark except for the lamp in the living room. he sets you on the couch, disappears, comes back with a glass of water and advil.

“drink.”

you do. he watches every swallow.

then he sits beside you. close. thigh pressed to yours. you can feel the heat of him through your jeans.

“why me?” he asks, voice low. “you’ve got a boyfriend. call him.”

“he’s not…” you trail off, head lolling toward his shoulder. “he’s not you.”

steve goes still. then his hand finds your thigh. squeezes once. hard.

“you know what you’re saying?”

you nod, slow. “yeah.”

his fingers dig in. “say it.”

“i want you.” your voice cracks. “want you to fuck me. like you used to. rough. mean. make me forget him.”

something shifts in his face. the careful mask drops. he stands, pulls you up with him. you’re unsteady, so he just hauls you against his chest, walks you backward down the hall to his room.

door shuts. lock clicks.

he doesn’t kiss you soft. shoves you against the wall, mouth crashing into yours, all teeth and tongue and three years of pent-up shit. you moan into it, hands clawing at his shirt. he yanks it over his head, then rips yours off—buttons pop, you don’t care.

bra next. he doesn’t bother unhooking it, just shoves the cups down, palms your tits rough, thumbs flicking your nipples until they’re hard and aching. you gasp, arching.

“look at these,” he mutters, voice gravel. “bet he doesn’t even play with them right.”

he pinches one, hard. you cry out, sharp and needy.

“quiet,” he snaps, but his mouth is already on you, sucking one nipple deep, teeth grazing. you fist his hair, hips grinding against nothing.

he drops to his knees, yanks your jeans and panties down in one rough pull. you’re soaked, thighs slick. he spreads you with his thumbs, stares for a second like he’s memorizing it.

“fuck. drippin’ already.” he drags his tongue through you once, slow and filthy, tasting every inch. you whimper, knees buckling. he pins your hips to the wall with one forearm, the other hand shoving two fingers inside without warning.

“steve—”

“shut up and take it.” he curls them hard, pumps fast, tongue circling your clit in tight, relentless loops. the wet sounds are loud, obscene. your legs shake.

“oh god… fuck… right there…”

he adds a third finger, stretching you, fucking you open. you sob, head thudding back against the wall.

“cum on my face,” he growls. “give it to me.”

you do. hard. thighs clamping around his head, screaming his name as you gush over his tongue, body jerking like you’ve been electrocuted. he doesn’t stop, keeps licking through the aftershocks until you’re whining, oversensitive.

he stands, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. shoves his jeans down. cock springs free—heavy, thick, already leaking. he grabs your hair, pulls your head back.

“on your knees.”

you drop. mouth watering. you take him in, slow at first, then deeper, hollowing your cheeks. he groans, hips rocking shallow.

“that’s it. choke on it.” he thrusts harder, hitting the back of your throat. you gag, eyes watering. he pulls out, slaps your cheek with his cock once, twice.

“again.”

you do. messier. spit dripping down your chin. he fucks your mouth until you’re drooling, until tears streak your mascara.

then he hauls you up, spins you, bends you over the foot of the bed. ass up, face in the sheets. he kicks your legs wider.

“spread yourself.”

you reach back, pull your cheeks apart. he spits on your hole, rubs it in with the head of his cock.

“you want it raw?” he asks, voice wrecked.

“yes. please stevie pleasee”

he slams in. one brutal thrust. you scream into the pillow, hands scrabbling at the sheets. he’s so deep it hurts good, stretching you wide.

“fuck, still so tight,” he grits out. “bet he doesn’t fill you like this.”

he starts moving. hard. fast. punishing. each snap of his hips drives the breath from your lungs. the bedframe bangs against the wall. skin slaps skin.

you moan brokenly, “harder… steve… please…”

he grabs your hair, yanks your head back. “tell me who owns this pussy.”

“you,” you gasp. “you do. fuck… only you.”

his hand cracks across your ass. the sting blooms hot. you clench around him.

“again,” you beg. he spanks you harder, leaves a handprint. then reaches around, fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast and rough.

“cum again. milk my cock. show me why you called me instead of him.” you shatter. screaming, walls fluttering, gushing around him. he curses, thrusts erratic, pulls out at the last second, flips you onto your back. straddles your chest. jerks himself fast over your tits.

“open your mouth.”

you do. tongue out. he comes hard, ropes painting your tongue, your lips, dripping down your chin. you swallow what you can, the rest smears across your skin.

he collapses beside you, chest heaving. you’re both wrecked—sweat, spit, cum, mascara streaks.

after a minute he turns, looks at you. thumb wipes a streak of his release from your bottom lip.

“stay,” he says.

you nod. too fucked out to move anyway.

your phone buzzes somewhere on the floor. probably your boyfriend. you don’t check. morning can deal with the fallout.

tonight you’re his.

QUICK OUTLET ! (season 5! steve harrington!)

╰ or... steve has an aching feeling about the last bout with the upside down. you want to help him anyway possible. the solution? just the tip! (of course, that's impossible with steve...)

steve has never felt so nervous in his life before tonight.

sure, asking you out was a little nerve racking, fighting the demodogs in the junkyard while having to protect three little shitheads was shit-pant terrifying, going up against vecna in his attic to save max and hawkins was a scary level of nervous... tonight was just... different.

you guys had just got max back from her nineteen month long coma, steve himself had figured out a plan to save hawkins and kill the upside down in its entirely all while making sure el doesn't die with the upside down— everything was in place.

it felt too good to be true.

you were equally as nervous, but you had an outlet to let out your nervousness. steve on the other hand, didn't.

it was, give or take, four hours before the plan was going to be set in motion when he whispers to you in the confines of the weapon room in the wsqk radio station.

"baby..." he whispers, watching as you reload one of too many guns the party was taking into the upside down to defeat the hoard of creatures they're going to be met with.

you look up for one moment; you couldn't lie to yourself, he looked sexy as fuck in the outfit he chose... but that would be for after this was all over with, even if your pussy said otherwise. "mhm? yeah, steve?"

"i...uh... i'm not going to lie to you, i've lied to the others; i'm nervous baby, like shit my pants kind of nervous..." he admits, lifting his hand to adjust the hat he was wearing, the material of the handkerchief scratching against his neck. "i'm just... not sure how this is going to go."

you furrow your brows, reading his expression, the slight frown on his lips, the glassy appearance of his eyes. you set the assault rifle down on the table, hearing the commotion outside the station as nancy reprimands lucas and mike for letting max shoot one of the guns in her wheelchair. "steve, handsome, we're all nervous... i mean, it's warrented, considering this is the last time— hypothetically, we fight the upside down, and with vecna acting like creepy weirdo level one hundred tonight... it's fair to say we're all hella nervous."

steve appreciates your grounding words, but he shakes his head anyway. "i-i know we're all nervous... but i can't go into this with this nervousness... i-i need to let it out."

"okay, i can finish the rest, you go let out your nervousness." you tell him, your voice warm combating his own shakiness. the way his fingers clench and unclench into hardened fists is getting your mind racing, you won't lie.

steve groans out loud, licking his bottom lip and moving his left hand down towards your lower back, pressing his palm against you. "you don't understand, hun, i need you. i need it baby."

"steve, right fucking now?" you let out, feeling his right hand move on your body as well, faintly dragging his fingers up your right bicep as his arm curled around you. "where everyone can see?" you add.

he nods shamelessly. "please, baby, just the tip. i promise."

"you liar." you hiss although with no venom, letting him move you as you feel your lower back press against the metal slab, right below a light fixture and a screaming blue poster. "it's never just the tip with you, big boy."

as you speak, your hands conveniently begin to undo the buttons of your pants at your own doing, watching him fumble with the zipper of his pants, lifting his shirt a tiny bit to get a better look.

he's so fucking hard it's not even funny, the right curve of his cock prominent as his cock springs out of his pants the moment he pulls his pants doing enough. hot breaths hit his red handkerchief as his mind goes numb although his ears listen to anybody coming, hearing more of mike and max's arguing.

"i know, i know, baby." he reasons with you, licking his bottom teeth and letting a line of spit drop to the palm of his hand as you pull down your pants down to your shoes. his hand strokes his cock a couple of times, the spit lathering his cock from the tip down to his balls, grounding himself with his left hand on the wall. "just— just lemme do this, hun."

you wrap your arms around his neck, slipping off the hat and letting it drop to the floor as steve lines up with your pussy, taking a deep breath before pushing foward.

your fingers dig into his brunette hair as you feel his bulbous tip slowly ease into you, stretching your cunt and your walls immediately suctioning around his thickness.

"o-oh fuck, baby." he whimpers out, looking down and seeing eight of his throbbing inches still remaining and his tip fully in your warm cunt. "baby, it feels to-too good, i can't."

you close your eyes, leaning your head back on the wall and feeling his tip throb in you... and before you can even say anything; one or two of his inches push into you without care.

"steve..." you warn. "that's not... just the tip." your words get broken into shaky groans as another inch is pushed in.

he nods. "i know baby, but please, i'll be quick." he promises, and that crack in his voice? how could you say no to him.

your sigh is faux angry— the only reason why you'd say no is because of the risk of getting caught, but right now? you didn't really care about getting caught. "just... ah!" two more inches push in and stretch open your walls, three inches still remaining. "just hurry. 'don't need p-people walking in because you couldn't handle it."

with your permission finally given to him, steve thrusts fully into you, all eight of his thick inches opening your walls and immediately getting clamped down upon.

steve throws his head back, your fingers pulling at his strands as the feeling of fullness rams into you too quickly but god, it feels amazing. "steve! f-fuck!" you grunt, trying to not moan too loudly.

steve on the other hand, moans a little too loud when heat smothers him, his eyes half lidded and threatening to roll back as he lets you settle into how full you feel. "g-god baby... never forgot how good you fucking feel... this warm pussy all 'round me."

"m-move steve." you beg him, rubbing your heel against his pant leg. "fuck me."

he didn't need to be told twice.

steve pulled out just enough for one inch of him to be remaining in your cunt before thrusting back in, filling you right back up and forcing open your walls. his whimper is louder than he meant it to be, his arms wrapping around your waist to ground himself, his hands gripping your hips on each side.

pleasure shoots through your veins as steve doesn’t give you a damn moment to complain, beginning to gain momentum as he angles deep inside your cunt, hitting your g-spot continuously.

“st—steve-“ your moan is muffled by a sloppy push of his lips against yours, tongue flicking against your bottom teeth. "oh god!"

steve thrusts quicker as his balls slap against your cunt, both his hands rubbing up and down your clothed back, sweat beading down both sides of his face as he moans under his breath, feeling your fingers yank at him again. "god you're so pretty..." he whispers against your lips. "just taking me so well, feel so fucking good."

each thrust hits you further and further, your folds fluttering around him as you slowly let pleasure seep into the part of your brain that told you to be worried. all you can feel is steve. "f-fuck— steve! so good..."

"yeah baby? you like that? you like how deep i am in you? in this perfect cunt." he questions, stuffing his face into the crook of your neck. "thank you, thank you, thank you, baby..."

his words against your neck shoots shivers down your spine as each thrust pushes you deeper and closer to your orgasm. it's quite pathetic you find yourself so close already, but you couldn't hold it, he felt too good in you and you could tell by the way he was gripping your hips; he was close too.

"steve, steve, oh fuckkkk." your nails pull at his hair again, digging into his head as you ground yourself against him. "steve. g-gonna cum! oh fuck!" your vision begins to blur as the only thing you can feel is him.

steve nods to your words, quickening his pace as the sound of skin slapping and moans fill the room, sweat sticking to both of you. "let's cum together. please, baby, cum for me as i cum in you— do it together, baby." he blabbers, placing wet kisses along your neck as he grinds against you.

you nod your head a little too quickly, a streak of heat spreading across your face as you can't stop yourself from going over the edge that steve was trying to push you over. "steve! oh fuck! cumming!"

right as you feel pleasure flood your own senses, steve's senses are flooded with it's own type of pleasure. groaning loudly into your neck as your walls clench around his cock, he slams in one more time as his balls tighten and he feels himself go over his edge.

your whole body feels fuzzy as your orgasm hits you, eyes rolling back and vision going white as you cum hard around him, nails digging so deep that you're scared you drew blood as you go slack jawed.

meanwhile, steve digs his nails into your back as he cums in your cunt, spewing hot ropes of semen into your needy walls as he empties inside of you, grinding helplessly against your cunt in overstimulation. "oh god baby... so good... taking my cum like this... letting me fill you right up— ahhhhhh." he moans.

steve's breaths are heavy against your lips as you both come down from your shared highs, watching as your eyes close then reopen and he can see the color of your irises again. a smile spreads across his face.

he looks like he went to heaven and back, his hair sticking to each side of his face as a lopsided smile remains on his lips, completely lost in the feeling of you as you cum all over him, straight up whimpering that sounds like a cat's purr almost as he feels your warmth all around him. you begin to worry that anyone can walk in now, with all the moaning and the rattling... but steve gets a hold of himself before that fear becomes a reality.

"thank you, hun..." he whispers, gripping the base of his cock with his right hand and pulling out slowly. "atta girl..." he adds, watching as his cock leaves your folds, using a cloth on one of the many spaces around you two to wipe off your cum from his cock.

he bends down, his hands grabbing the waistband of your jeans and helping you pull them up as your hands grab them from him. you raise an eyebrow at him as he puts his cock back into his boxers and zips up his jeans.

"still nervous?" you question him, watching as he picks up the hat and wipes the possible dust off the fishnet parts of it.

he shakes his head, planting a kiss on your lips as he slides the hat back on his head, backwards in all. "not at all..."

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"That's it," Steve sighs, hair falling over on his forehead as he peers down.

It's so big. The size of his cock in your mouth, weighing on your tongue, stretching out your lips.

God, you'd known it was going to be big—but nothing quite like this. Nothing in any of your best fantasies can outweigh how it feels to be on your knees, taking him apart with your tongue.

"That's it, baby," Steve says again, a little breathier this time. It's nearly a coo. His hands are in your hair, fingers curled in, and you know he's trying to be gentle, for your sake.

His stomach is all clenched up, rippling hotly. His eyes are too, screwed up at the wet, hot heat of your mouth as he ruts in lightly, feeling your drool, your tongue, your lust for him. Your mouth is perfect. You're perfect.

"Fuck," He mutters, a little whinier. "Fuck, sweetheart, your mouth..."

He gives another roll of his hips, filling your mouth more, dripping that heady taste of leaking pre-cum down the back of your throat. You're on fire. You can't handle anymore more. You want it so badly. You'll make it fit.

Your hands on his thighs dig in, hoping he gets the hint. Hoping he can see it in your desperate gaze, how much you need it as much as he does. God, he's so big in your mouth.

Steve groans, low and lusty, and this time, when his hips rock forward, the traitorously hot trail of hair that leads from his stomach down to his cock brushes against your nose. You hum, happy, and feel the twitch Steve's cock gives in return.

"Fuck," Steve gasps, sounding breathless. He looks down at you, hands still so gentle as he rocks into your mouth, stretching it out, feeding you exactly what you want. "Fuck, baby, just like that. G-God, you love it, don't you?"

You hum in return — but Steve, staring down at you, chest heaving, already knows. He'll give you exactly what you need.

Happy Andy Biersack day everyone