Fuuuuuuuck - Blog Posts
‘KAY BITCHES TIME TO STORM A FUCKING CASTLE GOTTA GET LUZ HER OWL MOMMA BACK
I just have to lock in
hey guys long time no see this is about to become a metalocalypse and oc blog. sorry about that dndads fandom
Y'ALL I JUST GOT HOME FROM WORK WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?
wait there's a patch?
It's craaaazy how opinions on Spider vary so much depending on what site you're on
Steve Harrington x fem!reader requested by anon 18+
You probably shouldn’t have done it.
Probably.
But you did anyway.
The party was loud enough and busy enough that no one really noticed, no one really cared about the way your elbows dug into their sides, parting the drunken crowd as you made your way back from the bathroom.
The lights were low, the room filled with smoke from cigarettes and joints, swirling around the mirrored disco ball that someone had strung from the ceiling fan with a shoelace. Steve was still on the couch, half holding a conversation with Eddie and Robin, half scanning the room, waiting for you.
You dropped into his lap, grinning when he hummed, your skirt riding up your thighs as you settled into Steve’s chest. He was still talking to Eddie about a new band on the scene when you plucked his beer from his hand, taking a long drag. And when no one was looking, when everyone was too busy talking, laughing, singing, smoking, you pressed a piece of lacy, soft fabric into Steve’s fist, replacing his drink with something else.
You watched his brow furrow when he glanced down, his other hand wrapped around your waist and he hauled you closer, unfurling his fingers slightly before he realised what he was holding. You felt his chest move as he sucked in a gasp, a sharp inhale of surprise and his fingers clenched around the lace, his eyes wide and finding your own.
“Babe, what the fuck?” He whispered it, a hiss between bass and drums, his cheeks wonderfully pink, pretty and kissable. He was gazing up at you, awe in his eyes, his hand pulled close to his chest to hide his present but you could see the way his thumb buried itself into the cotton, pressing into the damp fabric, feeling you. “Is this your underwear?”
It was a rhetorical question, you were sure. Because Steve’s pupils were blown wide and he hadn’t had any of Eddie’s weed yet. His other hand was skimming up your bare thigh, fingertips ghosting under the hem of your skirt and he knew he’d find you bare, he had the evidence of that in his other palm and he was so fucking hard it hurt—
“Harrington, you good?” Eddie was frowning at the both of you, eyes narrowed at Steve’s flushed face, his glassy eyes.
Steve couldn’t talk.
“He’s fine,” you answered for him, using the excuse of yelling over the music to shift on Steve’s lap, biting back a grin at the feel of him hard underneath you. “You’re just a little warm, right, handsome?”
Steve was nodding, head bobbing and he canted his hips ever so, holding you tight against him as he shifted, shoving your underwear into his pocket and then he was patting at your ass. “Yeah, yeah, too hot in here,” he tried to smile at his friends, standing when you did, catching your hand and pulling, “in fact, I think I need some air.”
Steve didn’t even try to pretend, he dragged you out the party ignoring the hoots and whistles of his friends that followed you both out the door. He ushered you to the car, drove it a few minutes down the street until the party was a distant buzz and the streetlights didn’t reach the line of trees you were hidden beside.
“In the back,” Steve told you and he sounded desperate, he sounded wrecked. “Be a good girl ‘n pull that skirt up for me, honey, I wanna see how pretty you look.”
davey sketch for u 🤲
