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sabbaticalmain · 2 years

Text

kiss her and don’t tells; steve harrington

summary: after losing a bet which lands you on the cheer squad for hawkins highs final basketball game of the season, steve finally manages to find the courage to ask you out

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!fem!reader

requested: yes

warnings: none

notes: you can find my masterlist here

"don't tell me this little outfit is for me? you here to be my own personal cheerleader, henderson?" steve appeared behind you, all teasing smiles and mischievous eyes, his fingers tugging playfully at the end of your ponytail. the tips of them brushed your bare neck and neither of you missed the shudder it pulled from you, goosebumps trailing in their wake. you tipped your head to meet his gaze, tried not to glance down at his thighs in those ridiculously short shorts and sent him a matching teasing smile.

"you wish, harrington, i bet this is like a wet dream come true for you." you knocked your shoulder into his, giggled when he bumped you with his hip in turn and sent you a mock serious look. his hair was messy, falling into his eyes and you hated how good he looked, hated that he'd chosen now to flirt with you because his taunting words and devilish smiles were guaranteed to distract you. you were about to get thrown into the air by a group of girls who didn't really like you for a routine you didn't really know because you weren't really a cheerleader.

"how did you know?"

"you're a simple guy." steve hummed softly, let his eyes wander your figure and lifted his finger to trace over the green "s" embroidered into your cheer top. the positioning had him grazing over the swell of your boob and even through the woollen material it sent a spark through you, heat flooding your body. his lashes kissed the tops of his cheeks when he blinked, eyes dark and just a little clouded and you wondered what he was thinking, especially when the tops of his cheeks turned a faint pink. he shook his head suddenly, sent you a sheepish smile and dropped his hand.

it was no secret that there was something between you and steve, you’d spent the last few months since he’d befriended your younger brother sharing longing glances and fleeting touches. just barely there brushes of your fingers against his, or the brief graze of his hand over your waist as he passed by you in the kitchen. steve spent most of his time flirting with you, throwing you teasing smiles and playful winks whenever dustin wasn’t looking, driving you to and from school with the pretence of “well i’m already going that way” when he totally wasn’t.

that something however had never made it passed the flirting stage because neither of you were too sure about making a move. you were far too nervous to make a move on steve harrington because yeah he might have fallen a little down the social ladder now that his best friend was a child and sure you were comfortable around him and you more than trusted him but he was still kind of king steve to you. before his unlikely friendship with dustin, steve never even looked twice in your direction, you’d never had a single conversation despite being in most of the same classes. in your head, friendship or not, steve was still too far out of reach.

little did you know, steve felt exactly the same way. he knew you were too good for him, knew you were so far out of his league that it was pathetic for him to like you so much. because you were smart and pretty and frustratingly sarcastic and probably the funniest person he’d ever met and he was, well, him. he didn’t want to ask you out for you to reject him because you knew you could do better, didn’t want to ruin the new friendship you’d formed so he pined in silence. he flirted a ridiculous amount and hoped he didn’t screw things up because he’d decided months back that he wanted to keep both henderson’s around, in whatever way he could.

"seriously though, why're you dressed like this?" you huffed a sigh, turned a glare on your best friend sitting on the bleacher and jessica on seeing your glance, waved enthusiastically. with an eye roll you flipped her your middle finger, only turning back to steve when she blew you an over the top kiss.

“i lost a bet.”

“you lost a bet?”

“hmm. i put a little too much faith in adam and it didn’t go in my favour. should’ve known he couldn’t last longer than a minute.” you muttered the last part but steve still caught your words, his brows shooting up, a startled cough sputtering from his chest. he blinked at you.

“sorry?”

“becky finally slept with adam at melissa’s party, right?”

“uh? i don’t know, did she?”

“yes, it’s like talk of the school, harrington, keep up.” you whacked his stomach lightly with your pompom. “so anyway, he’d been talking himself up to her for weeks, like real big talk about how he’d show her what a real man was like and how she’d never want anyone else once she’d had him and boys who talk themselves up that much are never really any good, y’know?” steve narrowed his eyes, cocked his head to one side and tried not to smile at your little rambled explanation.

“sure.”

“exactly, so we had a bet, me and jessica, about how good he’d be, y’know, how long he’d last? i was nice and thought he’d at least make it five minutes because he’s slept around he shouldn’t be that bad. jessica had little faith and said he’d last no more than a minute and turns out he really is absolutely awful. he finished in a minute and fell asleep.” you drew in a breath, shook out your pompoms and shrugged. steve was highly amused, one side of his mouth tilted a little higher than the other and fleetingly he thought about kissing you, thought about how he so badly wanted the chance to cut off those cute little rambles with his lips.

“so you lost that bet.”

“mhm and now i have to take jessica’s place on the cheer squad because i’m certain she wants me to break my neck.” steve snorted, reached out to brush his hand down your arm.

“you’ll kill it out there, you’re good at everything.”

“i had like a weeks practice.”

“and you’re probably gonna do better than everyone who’s been practicing for years.” his fingers found yours, warm and soft and he gave them a light and encouraging squeeze. “you’ll be great.” the smile that slid onto your lips was blinding but shy, flutters kicking up in your stomach and you had to drop your gaze, instead staring over his shoulder to where his team was warming up. you nodded towards them, coughed a little to clear your throat.

"should probably get over there, talk tactics or whatever, work on your dribble." steve nodded slowly and dropped your hand. he smiled at you in a way that turned your insides to liquid, your skin prickling from his attention. you should hate the effect he had on you, should hate how he made you nervous and flustered with just one glance but you couldn’t, each new glance only had your heart tripping faster, your silly little crush blooming wider.

“work on your dribble,” he mocked in a poor imitation of your voice and as a result you once again clipped him with your pompon, trying to hide your smile. “i love it when you talk sports to me.” he pushed a hand through his hair, shook out a strands a little and rocked back on his heels. he opened his mouth again as though to speak, his gaze intent on yours but was interrupted by the shout of your name.

“duty calls,” you sent him a soft smile and the way he was looking at you sent a sudden surge of confidence up your spine, your body shifting on to your tip toes almost subconsciously. your hand settled against his bicep, head tilting so you could press a soft kiss to steve’s cheek. his skin was warm, almost smooth and being this close you could smell he’s cologne, the scent making you just a little dizzy. “good luck.” the blush that rose on his face was almost immediate and for a few seconds when you pulled back the two of you simply stared at each other, matching stupid grins bright enough to see from space.

steve recovered quickly, blinked a little harshly as though to clear his head. "for what it's worth, i'm glad you lost your bet." he tapped beneath your chin with his finger before starting to walk backwards, that taunting grin once again adorning his face. "you look hot in that outfit, henderson."

hawkins high had won and steve had played a major part in that win, playing better than he had all year it seemed but when the game ended the win wasn’t the first thing on his mind. it was finding you. his teammates clapped him on the back, hooted in his ear, made lewd jokes about how much attention he was going to get at tonight’s party and when that would usually sound nice, steve didn’t care. as the other guys bundled into the waiting arms of the cheer squad, immediately basking in their attention, lost in their fluttery lashes and salacious smiles, he finally found you out.

he spotted you just off to the sidelines, smile bright and seemingly all for him because as you waved your pompoms, as people weaved in and out between you, you never once broke his gaze. steve’s heart gave an unsteady thump, seemed to stop and start again and those traitorous butterflies had taken up residency in his stomach, his palms a little damp. despite how well he’d played, his attention hadn’t exactly been on the game, he’d been too focused on you, on the way you looked so effortlessly at lead during your routine, how your lips still burned against his cheek and how your floral perfume was still stuck to his nose. he’d wanted to impress you, wanted one last chance to show off just a little and so he’d pushed himself, found your eyes in the crowd after every hoop and melted at your cheesy thumbs up.

he was getting closer to you, nerves bubbling at the base of his spine as he anticipated his first move. he took a second to ponder just how angry dustin would be if he kissed you, especially when he’d specifically been warned off but the pros of feeling you against him outweighed your little brothers threats. he could deal with dustin later but right now he was desperate to know what your lips tasted like. your smile only got bigger as he got closer, a giddy energy surrounding you as you rocked a little on your heels, pompoms fluttering at your sides and you were beautiful.

“you, steve harrington, are pretty amazing, y’know that?” you made him laugh, made his chest feel tight when you cocked your head a little, eyes bright and glistening. he didn’t reply, couldn’t really because he was afraid he’d babble a load of nonsense and ruin everything so he finally found his nerve and the second he was close enough his hand was sliding along your jaw.

his other caught your waist, warm against your bare skin, comforting almost, his grip on your jaw tilting your head back as he dipped his own and then he was kissing you. actually fully kissing you and the second his lips met yours his mind went blank. a peaceful silence drifted over him, the noise of the room fading into nothing until everything and all was you. the way you felt, the way you tasted, the soft surprised sound you let out when he first kissed you that stirred something deep inside him. the kiss started off tentative, a barely there brush of his lips to test the waters. he wanted to give you the chance to pull away if you wanted but you didn’t, only wrapped one arm around his neck and pressed your lips more completely to his.

you kissed him hard, almost bruising and it was as if all those weeks of flirting, of teasing glances and half there touches when people weren’t looking had been poured into it. it was a little messy and desperate and steve hummed softly, brushed his thumb over your cheek when he pulled you closer. his tongue stroked yours, mouth open and eager, melding perfectly together until he was unsure where he ended and you began, a tangle of heated emotions. his heart was pounding and he was worried you’d be able to feel it when you slid your palm up his stomach and over his chest, his shirt catching in your fingers.

a laugh suddenly bubbled from you, tickled against his lips and brought the kiss to a slightly uncoordinated stop, much to his disappointment. your nose bumped his cheek and when you pulled back he watched it crinkle almost teasingly.

“you’re all sweaty.” your fingers were wrapped in the hair at the back of his head, nails scratching comfortingly over his scalp and steve’s chest ached with how normal it felt to be like this with you. he gave his own breathless laugh, brushed his thumb over your bottom lip and watched the way you reacted, smile growing until there were little crinkles but your eyes.

“s’what hard work does to you.” you rolled your eyes, dropped both your arms from around him and sent him a somewhat shy look, fiddled with your pompoms. steve swallowed thickly, gently squeezed your side in a comforting manner. “that kiss was extremely out of nowhere and this is kind of backward because i probably should have asked you out and then kissed you but y’know i’m kind of an idiot. but do you wanna go out tonight? i can pick you up and we can see a movie and go for dinner? everyone keeps saying enzos is really nice so we could try that out? or anywhere else, we can do what you want, i just- i really wanna take you out.” he paused, lip quirking. “without your brother.”

you gave a light laugh and nodded, reaching up to curl your fingers around steve’s wrist, his hand still cupping your jaw lightly. you turned and kissed his palm, let your lips linger for a few seconds. “dinner and a movie without dustin sounds nice, steve, just maybe we shouldn’t tell him? about the kiss, i mean.” your smile was elated, teeth flashing and he wanted to kiss you again, knew tonight was going to be torture in the best way.

“yeah, i’m not sure i wanna die today.”

“harrington! showers!” steve huffed a sigh and rolled his eyes, finally let his hands slip from your body.

“i’ll pick you up at eight?”

“eight’s good. dustin’s at will’s all night anyway.” he nodded and you nodded, both of you still grinning and he was about to leave, “see you later” on the tip of his tongue but you shifted up and caught his lips in another kiss. coaches yell drifted from his mind and again, he cradled your face, knowing deep down he was done for. two kisses and he was already whipped.

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sabbaticalmain · 2 years

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ditch the books

summary: steve’s bored, and you’re studying, but he has a few methods to convince you to ditch the books. got prompt from here 0.7k

pairing: steve harrington x gn!reader

disclaimers: light hearted teasing, suggestive, whipped steve, slightly sappy steve, slightly anxious!reader, established relationship, readers in college

authors note: im striving for my next fic to be of eddie, so if you have any ideas feel free to send them in !! <3 also, formatting keeps fucking up so 🧍

Whenever you need to study, and your house gets too loud, you need new scenery, or you just miss your boyfriend and want an excuse to see him, you make the small walk to Steve’s house.

He opens the door with a big, soppy grin. “Hi, pretty thing. Nice to see you,” he says sincerely, and your nerves soften at his glaring delight, replaced by a sweet dose of warmth.

“Hey, Stevie,” you say, practically preening.

He rolls his eyes half-heartedly at the nickname, like he always does, and refrains from telling you that since you’ve started calling him “Stevie”, he’s started liking it, that if you ever were to stop calling him by his nickname, he’d be utterly morose.

He steps aside, offering you a wide berth, and says, “Come in.”

You comply, an ease to your steps that had steadily accumulated over your many visits. As you slip off your shoes, Steve hovering in wait, you ask curiously, “what were you doing?”

“Waiting for my sweet, sweet partner to come over.”

You straighten, socks remaining, and squint your eyes at him, grinning with equal amusement as there is doubt. “You didn’t even know I was coming over,” you accuse.

He shrugs, smirking as if you’ve just played into his trap. “I guess luck is on my side, then.” And then boops you on the nose, turning on his heel, and stalking down the hall before you have a chance to react with anything other than an innocent wince.

You huff, stomping after him, although you're notably slower, the bag packed with your studying materials bouncing obnoxiously against your back.

When you step inside Steve’s bedroom, the first thing you notice is him: sitting on his bed with his back pressed against his bed frame, legs fully extended, and head in his hands. Protruding from his left jean pocket is the cord of his walkman, continuing until it splits off into two earbuds that are inserted in his ears. He looks serene, gently rocking his head, and silently mouthing the lyrics.

The second thing you notice is that he cleaned his desk. Usually, it’s crowded with miscellaneous items: his ID, a couple VH’s, hair products. But today? Completely spotless.

You smile covertly, and remain silent as you slip into the chair, bag clattering to the ground. You’d comment on the sweet gesture, but you’re too scared of Steve being embarrassed. He likes playing the hero, but you still notice him getting embarrassed when you comment on the small things: covering the sharp end of the table when you bend down, remembering something you told him ages ago, knowing your coffee or tea order.

Once you’ve arranged your stuff, you get to work. It’s relatively quiet, save for the sound of pencil against paper, and your murmurs of passages from your textbook.

The silence, however, is interrupted by an breezy, “What are you doing?”

Steve has his chin perched on your head, eyes cast down to peer at your work. “What are you working on?”

“A project for one of my classes,” you reply swiftly. Blindly, you swat back at Steve with one arm, and manage to strike his arm. He responds with a dramatic hiss, leaning away from you as he clutches his arm, despite you not being able to see him. “Go be handsome somewhere else,” you grumble. “You’re distracting me.”

Steve responds by slumping forward, directly against the back of your chair. This time, his plans to distract you aren’t as innocuous.

He lowers his head till he has access to the side of your neck, and slowly starts to kiss the skin. At first, testing the waters, and then sloppy, earnest kisses that you’re bound to feel later. A smirk gradually spreads across his face the longer you remain quiet, like he knows he’s winning.

He is.

You face forward, delight written all over your face, pencil limp in your hand.

“You can study later,” Steve whispers against your neck, and his tone is caught between sincere and victorious. “I’ll even help you out. Read out the flash cards or some shit.”

You laugh, breathless and sharp. “Okay,” you say. “We can study later.”

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sabbaticalmain · 2 years

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thinking about straddling stevie and kissing all the little freckles on his face. and he’s just looking up with a sleepy smile 🥲🥲🥲 i could sob

head in hands, sobbing as well actually.

“babe, please.” he’s so whiny, it’s so pathetic and very cute.

you cornered him the second he walked down to the basement, grabbing his shoulders and tugging him in for a needy kiss. you dragged him to the couch, your lips never leaving his, then pushed him lightly onto the cushions.

your legs were on either side of him and you cup his cheeks sweetly, a contrast to the hot kisses you litter all over his face and neck.

“how-” peck. “was your-” peck. “day, stevie?” another peck.

“it was, umm- god- fine.” he’s breathless and his eyes are squeezed closed.

you can feel him hardening in his pants and you can’t help but chuckle against his rapidly warming skin.

he’s holding you loosely at the hips, almost as if he knows he just has to sit back and take what you give him, he can’t interfere.

you pull back a little to get a look at his face.

“aw, honey.” you give him a sympathetic pout.

he looks so tired. keith scheduled him for a double shift at the store and it looked like he could fall asleep any second.

“let’s get you to bed, hon.” you moved to get off him, ready to drag him upstairs to his bed, when his hands tightened around your waist, a little flash of fear in his eyes.

“no, no, wait! please, just… stay here with me?” he looked sheepish, like he was just waiting for you to refuse him.

your eyes softened at his timid voice and you lowered back down to him. you could feel him relax, a sleepy smile coming back to his face.

“ok, sorry, sorry, i’ll stay.” you went back to kissing him, seeking out each little mole and freckle on his face and giving it a warm peck.

his eyes droop closed, a deep hum leaves his throat.

“missed you,” he mumbles tiredly.

your hands grip at his collar tighter at his words and you stop your little pecks to give him a passionate kiss on the lips. when you pull away, he chases after your lips, wanting more of you.

“missed you, too, pretty boy.”

his face goes red, tucking his head into the crook of your neck bashfully.

“quit teasing me.”

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sabbaticalmain · 2 years

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sloppy makeouts w stevie :’) just filled with “i love you”s

You wish you could hit pause and live in this moment forever.

The sun had just started to set, the sky reminiscent of cotton candy, soft pink and blue clouds sweeping across the neighborhood.

The colors reflected off Steve’s skin perfectly, but, honestly, he could look angelic in almost any lighting, even the harsh fluorescents at the mall.

The only light in the room came from the window or the small, orange flame nestled between Steve’s hands as he flicked on the lighter.

A blunt hung low between his pretty, pursed lips. His brows knitted together as he brought the flame to the top of the cigarette, face concentrated and hands steady.

He’s so dreamy.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him as he inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a fraction of a second, before blowing out gently. The light from the window reflected off the smoke wafting around his head. It was painfully picturesque and you considered reaching into your dresser and grabbing your Polaroid to capture the moment forever.

Distracted by a few strands of hair falling in his face, you didn’t even noticed Steve was holding the blunt out to you, waiting patiently for you to take it.

You snapped out of your trance with a quick “sorry,” giving him a sheepish look after being caught staring. Your fingers brushed his as you grabbed the blunt, sending electricity up your hands as you brought the blunt to your lips. You to take a hit yourself, though you were much less graceful than him, coughing a bit as you waft the smoke away from your face. You pass it back to him, his chuckle hitting your ears and your cheeks warmed.

“Laughing at me?” Your eyes drop to the sheets on the bed, fingers self consciously fussing with a loose thread.

“No.” You hear another chuckle, then an inhale, an exhale, then another cloud of smoke surrounds you. “You’re just cute.”

You peak up at him suspiciously, cheeks heating further, before reaching for the cigarette again. This hit was much smoother and you blow the smoke towards him teasingly.

He knew the effect his words had on you. Even the littlest things flustered you, which he found precious. Pushing your buttons was one of his favorite pastimes, your little nose crinkle was just a bonus.

You handed the blunt back to him and he took one more hit, his lips wrapping around the end in a small smirk, eyes playful and never breaking contact with yours. You fought the urge to look away at his intense gaze, focusing in on his lips instead.

He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, the paper catching on the bottom pillowy lip, pulling it into a pout. Your eyes glazed over at how unreal he looked, half his face pink from the sunset. Noticing your line of sight, he let out a small hum before blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth, away from your face. You watched his mouth contort in silence, your thighs clenching just a tad. His tongue poked out slowly, wetting his lips.

Tease.

He offered the cigarette to you, one last time, but you refused with a small shake of your head. With a fond smile, he leaned over, reaching for the ashtray on the dresser next to you and dropping the blunt there for later.

His shirt rode up a tad, exposing a sliver of his skin. Warmth seeped into you as he hovered above you, close enough to smell his cologne - oaky and a little sweet, mixed with hints of weed. Your eyes were staring at the small chain around his neck; it was usually hidden under the collar of his shirt, but now it swayed above you, occasionally catching the light. You raked up his collar bones to his neck, his adam’s apple bobbed and you slowly moved up to his jawline. His lips and nose were next and you methodically counted the moles that spanned across his pretty face.

Gradually, you peak up at his eyes, only to find him already staring, a slight smirk pulling at his lips when you notice.

You could feel your body grow even hotter under his gaze, and you tentatively reached a hand out to graze over the forearm propping him up beside you.

The skin was so soft, and extremely hot. If you didn’t know he ran warm, you could have sworn he had a fever.

Still staring into his eyes, your fingers traveled a bit higher, stuttering over his elbow then up to his bicep. Lastly, you reached his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. The muscle was taut in your hand and you watched his gaze darken.

He leaned down slightly, lips just ghosting over yours, breath fanning over your face. Obviously effected by your proximity, he took a deep inhale before whispering.

“Can I kiss you?” His lips brushed over yours at the words, sending goosebumps all over your body. “Please?”

He was so breathy and desperate, you couldn’t possibly refuse.

Pushing yourself up that last bit, your lips finally collided. Your other hand came up to grasp at the nape of his neck, and you greedily swallowed his soft groan.

His lips were so plush and hot and you imagined them on your neck and shoulders, peppering you with kisses. He tilted his head a tad to the side, slotting his nose against yours, and you moaned at the little sounds he was making in the back of his throat, the little breaths he took through his nose, the gasps pressed against your lips.

The thought of him alone was intoxicating, but now his lips were on you. You could have sworn you were hallucinating.

You pull him tighter, squeezing your eyes tight at your desperate need to be closer. Lungs burning, you knew you would have to pull away eventually, but you couldn’t bring yourself to part from him.

His tongue ran over your bottom lip as his hair fell over your forehead, tickling you slightly, but you didn’t mind. He shifted, pulling away a tad so that your lips just brushed together upon each shaky breath, no longer connected. His eyes peaked up to yours, seeking confirmation, and you nodded breathlessly, maneuvering with him so he was lying next to you on the bed.

Cheeks red and lips swollen, Steve never looked prettier and you once again had to fight the urge to snap a picture of him.

His lips were back on you again, his hands now free to roam your body. He palmed up your biceps, then reached your neck and your jawline, constantly pulling you closer and manipulating you so he could kiss you deeper. You let him take control, let him take what he wanted from you, as you tried to calm your racing heart.

You were starting to feel the effects of the drugs, your head swimming just a tad, focusing in solely on Steve’s needy hands all over your body.

The kiss was slowly getting sloppier, lips missing each other and tongues coming out to play, teeth clashing and moans echoing off each other. The high was incredible, heightening all your senses and dimming everything else besides Steve.

You shifted again, moving to straddle his waist, his hands coming to rest on your sides and his neck craning up so his lips could meet your jaw. He kissed a line down your neck to your collarbones, eventually running out of air and pulling away slightly, gawking up at you. Your face and neck were a little wet from his mouth, but you hardly noticed with Steve’s staring.

He leaned forward a tad, placing a kiss right at the center of your sternum. You could feel his smile pressed into your skin and you could barely stop the giddy laugh from bubbling up in your chest.

“Love you…” he mumbled against your skin, his lips ticking you.

“Huh?” you asked, breathless, fingers now carding through his hair absentmindedly. His lips pulled off you, head tilting back and eyes staring up at you once again.

He looked absolutely lovesick.

You ran your fingers through his hair once again, now trying to coax him into repeating himself. A soft smile came to your lips, and he fixed you with a dopey grin. He chuckled a little, out of happiness or disbelief you’re not quite sure.

“I love you.” His hands rubbed at your sides, and your chest ached at your luck.

His words were so sincere, face reflecting pure honesty. He was so genuinely Steve at that moment it made your head spin.

He only ever got like this with you, and it made warmth blossom in your chest at the idea that no one else gets to see him like this.

A grin comes to your face, your hands giving his shoulders a light squeeze as you lean in to place a kiss on his lips. It’s gentle, almost feather light, and you hear his breath catch in his throat. You kiss his lips again, this one a little stronger but just as sweet. Then a third time at the corner of his mouth, you hold it there a moment, extending your connection.

He beamed at your silent display.

Three kisses, three words.

I. Love. You.

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sabbaticalmain · 2 years

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roommate steve who you have a crush on, unknown to you is the OF star you routinely get off too

man :/

its cause he never shows his face in videos. Its always just some thick hairy guy with a great fucking body, touching himself. his videos are so aesthetically pleasing too, you can't stop staring at how beautiful his cock is in every video. how he grips it, strokes it gently and squeezes around his head so you can see the fat drip of slick beading at his ruddy slit. hes so big with veins and his bush is so thick you just wish you could touch it. you don't know how often you get off to videos of him grunting as he slides his cock in and out of a fleshy pocketpussy, wishing it was you.

and you'd never expect it to be your roommate. polo wearing, preppy, good guy steve. steve who always makes you breakfast and texts you if you need a ride throughout the day, who does your laundry for you and has more haircare products in your shower then you do.

you'd never expect it and you don't until you walk in on him fresh out of the shower one day, nd his towel slips and you immediately zero in on that birthmark at his hip. moreover, you know that cock. you've fucked yourself silly enough times imagining it inside you to know.

you have to excuse yourself. its hard to face him after that. youd always kinda had a crush on him but now? how are you supposed to act like a normal human. you cant.

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sabbaticalmain · 2 years

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thinking abt pathetic sub steve who begs to touch u. begs to taste ur cunt. like homeboy’s crying. he just wants u to sit on his face. wants to be suffocated while u rut into his mouth:((

steve begging to eat you out is my favorite thing ever <3333

fisting his hands in his bedsheets, red faced and flushed "please, baby. wanna taste you. let daddy taste you, please? know i can lick you so good, just let me-" and you've never felt prettier, rubbing your little cunt over his face, hovering just an inch above lowering yourself down to his beautiful mouth. he wants you so bad.

"yeah? want your mouth on my little hole, daddy? wanna make me cry?"

steve nodding so desperately, "uh huh. give it to me, honey. let me make you feel good, its all daddy wants."

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sabbaticalmain · 2 years

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bothering steve for attention ‘n he hands u his credit card ‘cause he thinks u want money.. no sir pull your pants down.

u gotta start kissing on his neck and whining :(( he wraps an arm around you. "stevie, want you. don't you love me?"

nd he huffs and turns to you, allowing you to climb in his lap. "you're such a brat." but he says it like he loves you, and he does. "you know im busy today, honey."

you play with the soft hair at the nape of his neck, "been busy all day! wont you pay attention to me?" you start kissing his neck, and kitten pawing at his chest, hes so firm underneath his polo, his skin warm underneath the fabric. your cunt pulses as you grind against him, catching the denim of his jeans against your greedy clit.

steve sighs, that soft sigh, that defeated one. his hands squeeze your ass, kneading it. "you're being greedy...." he tells you. "told you yesterday this was important."

you're already trailing your hands down to unbuckle his belt for him. steves hands stop you as you yank his belt through the loops, "baby, stop."

"no" you whine, petulant as ever. "no i want you."

you slip your hand into his loosened jeans to palm him. hes warm and heavy in your hand. hard already. he moans, and his hips flex into your hands before he can help it, breath hitching. his attempts to push your hands off him are futile. his hands move again, one at your hip, the other gripping the back of your neck. he grabs you like a kitten by its scruff.

"god you're spoiled-" he gasps when your hand curls around the fat length of him. squeezing him in your soft hand, stroking up and down the thick length of him. he grunts. grits his teeth. leans his head back so you can lick and bite along his neck some more. "-take me out all the way, baby, come on. want your mouth around me."

you're quick to get on your knees in between his splayed thighs. he lifts his hips to help you get him out of his jeans enough that you can wrap your lips around him, hungry little mouth parting around the fat tip of his cock. warm and sticky. this is what you wanted. his money was nice but this, this was nicer.

"you always get what you w-want, huh." steve cards a hand through your hair. grips it to push you down onto him. your mouth splits so pretty around him, he adores you. "lick me- yeah, baby. can't even be mad, jesus- treat me so good with that little mouth."

his other hand come down to grip the other side of your head.

"stay still for me, honey. you're gonna be my stress relief, okay? gonna use that throat to make me cum."

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sabbaticalmain · 2 years

Text

SUNNY DAYS THAT WON'T EVER END ─ S. HARRINGTON

𖥻 summary: in which you and steve take the kids to the beach. 𖥻 pairing: steve harrington x reader. 𖥻 warnings: none except bad grammar and lousy aesthetics (not my best ik). not proofread.

💭 liv's thoughts: i am in pain and i am suffering. this is how i decided to make myself feel less sad. i wrote this in reference to steve's road trip dream in s4. everyone's alive & well in this one :) title is also a reference to james taylor's fire and rain iykyk

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU’RE UNDER 16.

"Oh my God, not this again!" you exclaim once you feel a hand brush your shoulder, sneaking its way to the van's radio. Turning your head around, you found Mike looking at you with that mischievous grin of his, which made you roll your eyes and go back to gaze at the road ahead. "Will you stop doing that?"

"It's not my fault you only put elderly music on. Why can't we listen to Talk Talk?"

"Um, actually I would be very content with Metallica, thank you!" Eddie exclaims from the back and everyone grunts in response, making him frown slightly. "What is wrong with metal?"

"It's not music, dingus," Robin answers like she was stating something obvious. "Besides, I don't get why you didn't put my mixtape on."

"To listen to Ian Curtis moan for two hours and a half? I don't think so." Steve states from behind the wheel, staring at them from his rearview mirror. Robin and Eddie were pairing up on the last seat of the van, like the two naughty kids of the classroom, and were making it their mission to annoy the fuck out of everyone in that vehicle. Along with Mike, of course, who was sitting right behind you and your boyfriend, squished in between Eleven, Dustin, and Lucas.

"Then you should've put Kate Bush like I asked you to." Max retorted, in an as-a-matter-of-fact manner. You could feel Steve's stare at her, a warning look that burned your upper body since she was sitting right beside you.

"I think I've had enough of Wuthering Heights for now" he comments, nodding his head almost aggressively, sparing the girl another glance. "Maxine, will you, please, take your dirty shoes off of my dashboard?"

She rolls her eyes as he repeats the request for what seems to be the thirtieth time that day. Your body slowly sinks into the cushioned seat while Max smooths out the paper map she was holding, trying to remember the quickest way for you to get to the beach.

"Are we there yet?" Will loudly asks from the middle seat that he was sharing with Erica, Jonathan, and Nancy. "Do you see any sand here? It's like we're going into a jungle!" the youngest girl exclaims while looking out of the window. And you really couldn't disagree with her, since all you saw from the time you entered the little coastal town were green trees and even greener lawn in the midst of small suburban-like houses. "I thought Max couldn't read maps."

"I can! This one is just… different, " she replies quizzically.

"Different!?" Everyone asked in unison, with the same confused tone. That made Max's blue eyes widen while she looked at you and Steve for help, only to find the both of you staring back at her with incredulity all over your faces.

"I knew I should be the one reading it! I fucking told you!" Dustin screams in Steve's direction, with his hands going over his curly hair in exasperation. You could hear the 'we're in deep shit' and 'Jesus H. Christ' from all over the automobile, coming from everyone's mouths. Harrington could only 'tsk', placing his head on the hand he rested on the driver's window.

"Tone, Henderson!" Eddie tells him from the back of the van. "But yeah, I really think he should trade places with Red."

"Fuck off, Eddie! I'm not leaving." Max pushed her back further into the passenger's seat, crossing her arms and pouting like an angry toddler.

You took a deep breath before asking her softly, "And do you have any idea of where we are?"

"Yeah, I think. Here." she pointed almost shyly at the map. You nodded and followed the blue line she traced across the roads before you started this (once) exciting adventure.

"Alright. Enter the next right, Stevie."

"This right?"

"The next."

"My right or your right?"

"It's the same, Steve." You could see the concentration on his face when you looked at him, slightly amused by the conversation you just had. Feeling your body tilting to the left as your boyfriend makes the accentuated curve, you hear Erica's faint complaint that Will's squishing her, but you were too distracted to listen to the rest of the exchange since your head couldn't stop worrying about the route Max selected.

If she was right, it would only be a matter of minutes before you got to the miraculous beach, the one that you all have been dreaming about for months, talking about it nonstop until Steve finally rented the van. You could only pray that the redhead was correct about all of this, because, in all honesty, you don't think you can handle Mike's bitchness for much longer, or Dustin's insufferable grunts for that matter.

So it was almost impossible not to sigh in relief as the sight of sand invaded the horizon, with only the thinnest line of blue right in the distance. You were not the only one who was happy to see it, in fact, the whole van erupted in cheers once Lucas announced: "Land ahoy!". Giggles mixed with screams and 'fucking finally's'. El's laugh was the one who stood out to you the most; that bubbly and loud chuckle of hers made a big smile grow on your lips.

And it only got bigger once you noticed Steve's face glowing in all its glory under the summer's sun. Bright, great, and striking, as always. There wasn't a prettier sight than him smiling so big that you couldn't even see the brown of his eyes no more, only eyelashes and cute wrinkles. It was rather relieving to see him look so happy… that was a sight you didn't see often anymore since he is always so worried about his job and his academic life. A warm feeling spread quickly through your chest, making your heart beat faster just by the vision of him. You couldn't believe how lucky you were sometimes.

"See? I told you I could read a map." Max triumphantly says as she rests her knees on the cushioned seat, turning her body around to look at the happy faces behind her. Mayfield had one of her rare big smiles plastered on her face, in a mix of satisfaction and pride, and her cheeks were slightly flushed; a great contrast with her countless freckles. The happiness that radiated from the girl was sensed by everyone in the van, especially Lucas, who stared at her like she was the most beautiful person he has ever seen in his life. And if you ask him, he'll tell you that is true; there was no one more charming than Maxine Mayfield. They shared a quick look, and if that was even possible, her smile only grew bigger.

"Good job, Max!" Eleven praises her friend, in that sweet way of hers. Even from miles away, it was easy to see her eyes beaming, emitting her cheerfulness for the whole world to see.

"Thank you, El! It's nice to know that someone acknowledges my talent".

"Well, then I think we should all say thanks to Max, you guys." Nancy suddenly says, while looking around the whole van, like a teacher encouraging her students to participate in the day's activity. She had Jonathan's arm wrapped around her shoulders, and he was laughing silently by her side. "1, 2, 3…"

"Thank you, Max!" You all exclaimed, some more excited than others, but the intensity of the burst of laughter that contaminated you was the same.

"You are all welcome." She sheepishly accepts the recognition and takes a quick bow before dropping back to her sit. Now, she stared at Steve, who was concentrating on parking the van the best he could. "Can we please have some ice cream when we get out?"

"Hell yeah." He immediately agrees and receives another van-shaking cheer from everyone.

"I really want chocolate. Will, do you wanna share?" Dustin turns to face the boy sitting behind him, who excitedly agrees to the proposal. You hear Eddie asking Robin if she likes cotton candy flavored ice cream, to which she replies with a vomiting sound. Guess that was a no.

"I really wanted strawberry." Max mindlessly comments by your side.

"Then I'll buy you the whole freaking stock," Steve responds as he turns off the vehicle. The redhead emits a surprised sound, thinking that no one would actually pay attention to that.

"You'll buy us the whole stock? Fuck yeah!" Mike chimes in and then ushers everyone to get out before Steve changes his mind.

While they were making their way out of the van, stretching and yawing lazily under the sun, you ask your boyfriend, "You're not really thinking about buying them the whole thing, right?"

"I'm not insane, you know? I think that if we put enough sprinkles that might distract them from that fact, so don't say anything."

"I won't, promise." You proclaim as you got off the van through the driver's door, landing right next to Steve. Stretching your arms, you ask him: "Do you think you can handle babysitting them for the rest of the day?"

"Fuck no. Can't even handle babysitting them back home." He shakes his head while his arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. "But there's nothing in the world that I would rather do than this."

He gives you a soft kiss right at your temple, muttering the last word into your skin. And when you look ahead, you understand exactly what he means. You watched as Eddie gave Dustin a piggyback ride to the sand, jumping every time his feet encountered the shore since it was burning hot; as Mike raced against Eleven and Will, rilling them up until he tripped over and almost fell; as Max failed to mediate another one of the Sinclair's squabbles, laughing more than actually trying to help; as Robin had a difficult time trying not to fall when she tripped on the sand, only to be helped by Nancy and Jonathan who held her arms until she was safely walking by the seashore.

Yeah, you wouldn't trade this moment for anything in the world.

steve masterlist | main masterlist | navigation 𖤐 hey! wanna talk? leave me a message after the beep ─ currently accepting requests for eddie munson and steve harrington.

𖥻 main taglist. @oncasette; @kinqsteve; @virgoyves; @stevesmixtape; @thedixon04; @joekeeryismyuncle; @datingrobinbuckley if you want to be part of my taglist, just click here!

𖥻 fic taglist. @phinafucks

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sabbaticalmain · 2 years

Note

MAKING OUT IN STEVE’S CAR IS NOT A WANT BUT A NEED

you’re so right, anon!!! actually i can only think about him in his little scoops ahoy uniform telling you to meet him at the parking lot, behind the mall. and so you do, and it’s probably the best decision you’ve made so far.

since we are talking about steve, he will absolutely put on his “babe’s mixtape” (that’s what he calls it) full of love songs that are perfect for making out. he actually created it after all the times you were forced to listen to the news or some lame ass guy complaining about “what happened to rock music?”. so trust me when i tell you that you will be fogging up the window’s of his car while sade’s the sweetest taboo plays in the background, perfectly setting the tone for your well-deserved make out session.

most of the times you didn’t plan on spending almost an entire afternoon sitting on steve’s lap, kissing him like your life depended on it. but when you two are in his car, by yourselves, it is virtually certain that you will end up with your back touching the steering wheel while he eagerly kisses up and down your neck, leaving it shiny with his saliva and slightly bruised from his teeth grazing against your sensitive skin. not that you minded, obviously, but it was slight upsetting when he would hit that one sweet spot on your neck and you’d accidentally press the car horn — that would usually end up with you staring at each other, completely petrified, just to burst out laughing the next second, going back to kissing tenderly.

make out sessions with steve are certainly the experience of a lifetime, and i’m not even kidding. sometimes, he would tell you “this has to be quick, princess, i really have to get back to work” and then just proceeds to kiss you for almost two hours straight. it’s almost like you are in a place where time doesn’t exist and where everything is just about both of you: his hands gripping your waist tightly, sucking your bottom lip almost sinfully and the warm moans that leave his mouth whenever your hands tug his hair. and the best thing about this is that steve always finds a new way to please you, being it by massaging a different part of your body or discovering that you are very sensitive around your ears. and is just so nice to feel him smile against your skin while asking “you like this?”, and when you say yes, he just does it even more passionately, only feeling satisfied once you give him the most lustful moan your throat can muster.

“okay, now i really have to go”, he says, slapping your ass lightly, as a way of telling you to move out of his lap, which you do, feeling heartbroken. “i promise i’ll make it up to you later, ‘kay, baby?” steve guarantees you, while getting out of the car.

you can hear him murmur a faint “fuck”, glancing down. and when you look at his uniform shorts you can see exactly why he sounded so frustrated. poor stevie.

steve masterlist | main masterlist | navigation 𖤐 hey! wanna talk? leave me a message after the beep ─ currently accepting requests for concepts & moodboards for eddie munson and steve harrington.

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sabbaticalmain · 2 years

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Maneater | Steve Harrington

A/N: besties i was gonna post this sooner but i had to let my drunk fade away, anyways i present to you sub!steve (season four steve to be exact bc he is so fucking MMM MMMM MMMMMMMMM), also had to make the reader a lil punk rock bitch ok

Summary: “I thought she’d be like mean and shy but not she wasn’t shy at all-she’s like-she’s like a man eater-Definitely an apex predator if I’ve ever seen one. Steve she was looking at you like she wanted to eat you”

Warnings: so much smut but theres plot!, cussing, spelling and grammar errors, kissing, spitting, hand jobs, crying, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving/giving), P in V sexy time, praising, degrading, marking, biting, sub!steve + dom!reader

Word Count: 9k (way more than i thought there would be like jfc the plot came out the cut, then the smut is like omg ok bitch period)

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

(JUST LOOK AT HIM OH MY FUCKING GODS DGSDHGHSDGHSDHGHIRDSHIG MY COOCHIE)

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sabbaticalmain · 2 years

Text

— keep taking my breath away | steve harrington

+ steve harrington x reader

summary: steve is known for his confidence and charisma, but it doesn’t take much from you to turn your boyfriend into an awkward fumbling mess. full request here.

tags: post season 4 (we assume we had a happy ending) no spoilers, suggestive themes, fluff, flirting, steve being a himbo

note: my first steve fic, sorry if this is a little rough but i am writing a oneshot after so long. thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated!

Steve’s trying to pay attention, he really is, but the lady standing before him is droning on and on about the plot of a movie that sounds shittier than ‘Teen Wolf’ and he can’t help but wish he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“I have no idea what this movie is, ma’am,” he says, for the umpteenth time, trying not to lose his cool in front of a customer.

“How is it that you’re an employee of the films and you have no idea which one this is?” She questions, scrunching her forehead in a way that ages her thirty years.

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sabbaticalmain · 2 years

Text

[REQUESTS OPEN—requested by anonymous]

37. “We should skinny dip.”

50. “I thought your laugh was the prettiest sound in the world. I was wrong, it’s your moans.”

[2.9k] or, in which you and steve take a late night dip. (smut)

“We should skinny dip.”

“Are you insane?”

“Only partially.”

You let out a small scoff, the noise soothed by the sound of the wind rustling the leaves and the soft waves rippling through the pool. You turned your head to the side, finding yourself staring at the side profile of a slightly tipsy Steve who looked deep in thought as he stared blankly in front of him.

“It’s October.”

“And we just fought some asshole I thought only existed in Dustin’s stupid game,” Steve retorted before he turned his head to look at you. “This is like, what? The fifth time we’ve almost died?”

You snorted.

It never once occurred to you that taking on a job to babysit Holly Wheeler for some extra cash during your senior year would lead to you joining the local supernatural force squad. In fact, even now you aren’t totally sure how you got roped into it. Maybe it was a ‘right person, right time’ situation, but you couldn’t deny it was one of the best things that happened to you.

And, with the amount of near-death experiences, also the worst.

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sabbaticalmain · 2 years

Text

you belong with me || s.h

summary: steve harrington's got a girl by his side yet again, and you don't know how much longer you can handle seeing him with other girls when he belongs with you.

word count: 3k

genre: best friends to lovers | angst | hurt & comfort | fluff | happy ending <3

notes: my first steve harrington fic !! i hope i did his character justice :')

“What are you doing out here?”

The chill of the night doesn't compare to how your heart runs cold at Steve's unexpected words.

His voice oozes sweet honey, concern lacing his words, the warmth in his eyes holding a place you want to crawl into after the shitty night you had, thanks to him but you recoil at the thought of letting him hold you the way does, but act nonchalant, like it doesn't mean anything to him.

Anger clouds you, like a haze it twists around you, but Steve hasn't done anything wrong. He is acting the way he always does when he is at a party--with a girl clinging onto his arm, he doesn't deserve your anger when he has been nothing but a great friend to you.

He is going to pay more attention to her than you, you know that. he is going to hold her hand, he is going to make her laugh with his stupid jokes, and he's going to hold her close to him, lips ghosting over hers when no one's looking.

Steve is going to kiss her. Not you.

You're there as a friend. Steve's friend. And it hits you--that's all you'll be. A friend.

You're desperately in love with him. And you don't know what to do anymore.

It's blurry when you try to think about how you ended up sitting under your old classmate, Tammy Thompson's porch light on a Friday night, with your back pressed against the cold wall, and a beer bottle in hand while the party goes on in between the walls you've been trying to escape for the past couple of hours.

“Y/N?” Steve calls out to you. The concern in his voice is growing.

You can't manage to get a single word out--there are a million words of love resting on the tip of your tongue--you're afraid if you try to answer him, the words may escape before you have a chance to hold on to them.

But you need to answer steve.

You need to look him in the eye, smile and say, I'm okay, Harrington.

You have to reassure him, put his worries to rest. He hasn't done anything to deserve how awful you have been to him the whole night instead of supporting him like you're meant to do because you're his friend. The ache in your heart is on you, for getting ahead of yourself...Steve doesn't deserve to be treated like shit.

He sits down next to you without another word. He is warm, and for a second, you want to hide yourself in his arms, live in your own little bubble just for a few moments before reality catches up to you. But you can't.

You can't.

Steve's jeans clad thigh brushes against your bare ones. He places a hand at the hem of your dress, dangerously close to the flesh of your skin which prickles with goosebumps and he hasn't even touched you yet.

He leans in to catch a glimpse of your face, “what are you doing here?”

Your breath hitches.

Steve is close. too close. His lips ghost over the apple of your cheek.

He leans in further, knocking your head with his with a light bump, “Y/N?” he says your name again, but with a bit more urgency. He is starting to get frustrated, but he's trying hard to be cool. For you.

“Yeah?” You barely manage to get out. But you don't look at him.

Steve brings his hands up, and before you know it he's cradling your face in his big, rough hands. He forces you to look him in the eyes, and when you do, you forget how to breathe--beautiful. He looks beautiful.

He has been away all night--with her. You didn't have the chance to look at him, to see how pretty he looks. His gaze is scrutinising, but you can't help but look into his eyes, have they always been so brown? He nibbles on his bottom lip, tongue poking out from in between his lips as he tries to figure you out.

His wet lips are inviting, but you can't risk it.

His lips may carry the taste of her cherry chapstick (and the end of your friendship with Steve Harrington)

He leans further in--is he? is he going to--? Your chest constricts, his brows furrow and a light gasp leaves your lips when he presses his forehead against yours.

You hold your breath; you have no idea what to do when he is so close to you.

Steve's eyes are shut, and he rubs the apples of your cheeks with his thumb, you glup, he caresses your skin, before nudging the tip of your nose with his, eyes opening at last.

“Steve?” You whisper.

“You're warm.” He hums, before trailing his hands down your neck, entangling his fingers in your hair as he holds you close, nose pressed against your temple as he nuzzles into you. “Are you not feeling well, babe? We can go home--” he pauses, his eyes widens comically, before narrowing, he blinks, nodding at the beer bottle in hand, “you've been drinking that all by yourself?”

Before you can get a word out, he is reaching for the bottle, prying it out of your grasp, before examining the contents (or what was left of it).

“it's…you drank it all.” He says, “there's barely anything left!”

You nod, “uh-huh.”

“Y/N.” Steve puts the bottle down, turning to you with worry in his eyes. He cradles your face in his hands, and squeezes your cheeks comically, “you don't drink.”

You stare at him, your body limp, the only support was Steve, “that's presumptuous of you.”

He studies you, before lowering his hands, letting you slump back against the hard surface of the wall instead of the warmth you so desperately craved.

A minute ticks by, “are you drunk?”

You take seconds to answer, “no, no.” you close your eyes, trying to work out words; anything that will drive away the conversation from you. “I'm just super…”

“Sad?” Steve offers, “You look sad.”

You open your eyes.

You want to deny it, laugh it off, and call him ridiculous for even suggesting it but you don't. You're tired and he sees it. He may not see why, but he can tell when it's hard for you to smile. Nothing gets past him. It's Steve Harrington after all. The only constant in your life since '72.

And you're not ready to lose that.

But he is a meadow of flowers that you want to get lost in, the multitude of colours burst in the crinkle of his eyes when a sweet, sweet smile plays on his lips. He's sweet as honey, and warm like the sun. He holds the light of a thousand lanterns glittering the night sky.

How tempting. How long can you possibly resist him?

How long are you willing to hold on before the bubble of love bursts?

You nod.

He doesn't waste another second. “Y/N.” He coos, opening his arms to welcome you in, he doesn't wait for you to reach his embrace, he leans forward and wraps you up in his arms, holding your head to his chest, enveloping you in a hug. In the moment, that is all you need.

You breathe. Your heart is lighter somehow.

You've been carrying a lot with you, but the second he wraps you up in his arms, the unrequited love doesn't matter anymore, the guilt of not being a good friend, of not being enough fizzles out. All that matters is You and Steve.

“Hey,” he pats your head, “what's wrong? A guy try something with you?”

You manage to crack a smile, but it's hidden under his chin, muffled against his jacket, “no, Steve.”

“I'm serious,” he urges you, “give me a name and I'll teach that dick a lesson.”

You pull away, “are you saying you're going to beat him up?”

“Yes.” He sputters, aghast at how you belittle his strength, “I can take him--whoever he is. How dare he hurt my girl. He needs to be put in his place.”

My girl. How he says such words that have butterflies erupting in your belly, without meaning anything by it, and you won't ever understand.

“Let it go, Stevie,” you puff out a weak laugh, “I'm not in the mood of cleaning up your blood.”

He gawks at you. “How dare you. I can win a fight.”

“Hardly.”

His offended expression doesn't last long, he bursts into a fit of giggles when he watches your shoulder shake weakly with little laughs. He smiles harder to keep you smiling along with him.

You sigh, with words saccharine sweet, “you're an idiot.”

He grins, “made you laugh, didn't I?”

He lets a couple seconds ebb away before he asks, “why were you sad though?” He tightens his hold on you, “can you tell me?”

You close your eyes, “it's nothing.”

He clicks his tongue, “it can't be nothing… c'mon, sweets, what is it?” He urges you, “what's got you all sad?”

You open your eyes, “I…”

“Yeah?”

“I-uh…” Your gaze flickers down to your lap, dejected. You change the subject before he can dig any further. You look up, “where's the blonde girl you were chatting up?”

He eyes you, but lets it go. “Eh,” He shrugs, “didn't work out.” He huffs, “it's my hair, isn't it? It doesn't look good today! I styled it, you know—”

“—Faberge Organics,” you cut in, “use the shampoo and conditioner and when it's wet…”

He nods, “not wet--damp.”

“You do four puffs of Farrah Fawcet spray.” You grin. “I know your secret.”

He rolls his eyes, “since you're my best friend, you ought to know that, Y/N.”

Your smile falls at his words, and you rest your head against the wall, hand reaching up to twirl a piece of his hair in between your fingers, “you look good, Steve.” You say, “she doesn't know what she's missing.”

He frowns when he notices your smile is gone, “there's that look again.” He catches your wrist, “what's wrong, Y/N?”

You can't look away. You try but you can't. He looks at you with love, he is worried, and he is concerned about you because he loves you, maybe not the way you want him to but today, you're on rock bottom and you will take scraps over nothing. You lean into him, you don't think how you may be throwing away years of friendship for one moment of love that doesn't exist, not for him.

You want to pretend that he loves you too, just once.

You're kissing him before you let your fear drag you away.

Steve's lips are sweet. You cannot recognise the taste, but you can't get enough. You're wrapped up in him, his intoxication scent of aftershave and boy. His lips; plump and plush, despite how constantly he nibbles on his bottom lip. You wait, wait for him to lead the kiss, he knows you haven't done this before but he…

He isn't kissing you back.

Your eyes are shut when you pull away. You don't know what you expected, to kiss you back? He had another girl in his arm not twenty minutes ago…Steve doesn't have any feelings for you, and you went ahead and ruined years of friendship over your stupid feelings.

You open your eyes, you don't want to but you need to get out of here.

His eyes are wide, stunned. He is frozen on spot, and you hate yourself for putting him in that position.

“I…uh, sorry. I-I have to go.” You quickly scramble to your feet. “I'm, I'm so sorry.”

It takes him a minute to realise that you are leaving and he lurches forward, and grasps your wrist before you can get away.

“Y/N.” He tightens his grip on you, “wait, wait!”

Your eyes widen in horror, “no, no. I have to go.”

“Y/N!” He pulls at your wrist. You loose your footing and end up half sprawled on his lap. Yelping, you try to get away but he circles his arms around you, caging you in with your back against his chest, limbs entangled with his. You struggle to pry his arms away. He doesn't budge.

“Steve.” You breathe. “Let me go.”

He doesn't say anything.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing you in. You gasp when his wet lips brush against your bare shoulder. “Steve.....” You whisper.

“Do it again.” He says.

“What?”

“Kiss me.” He says, twisting you around to look you in the eye, “kiss me again.”

You don't dare say anything, let alone kiss him. You stare at him because what? He wants you to kiss him? He wants you to kiss him!

You think maybe he is mocking you, but why will he do that? He is Steve. Your Steve. Your best friend. You look in his eyes. He wants to kiss you.

But the humiliation from the previous kiss is still eating you away, you can't move a muscle even if you want to. You look away.

Steve leans in, bringing his hand up to hold you. He tips your chin up, and when he speaks, you can feel his warm breath on your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

He is looking at you with hope the same way you've caught yourself looking at him when he leans a bit closer than what is considered a usual occurence between friends.

His hold on you is delicate, and so are his words.

You can't let his words be whisked away before you can say yes.

“Yes,” you nod, “please.”

He leans in. Your gaze doesn't leave his, and you're waiting, studying what he'll do next, but your thoughts melt away when he brushes his lips against yours. It is barely a touch but it's enough.

It's enough for him to capture your lips in a sweet, sweet kiss.

You gasp against his lips, and he slows his pace, and kisses you with delicacy. He guides your body further into him, holding onto your waist, pulling you in until there's nothing seperating you from him. He is caging you in, holding onto you with no intentions to let you out of his embrace. He doesn't want to.

He pulls away for a breath, catching your gaze for a split second. You are struggling to catch your breath. He stares at you, blood rushes to the apples of his cheeks, dusting his skin with hues of pink. You're uncharastically shy under his gaze. You don't look at him. You can't.

You bury your face in his chest, too shy to even look him in the eyes.

He breaks. He can't contain his own smile for long, how adorable, he thinks, while he looks down with a stupid smile on his face that he can't wipe away for the life of him.

He let's out a breathless laugh. “Is that why you were sad?” He nudges your side and you whine, muffled by the material of his jacket, “you like me?”

“Steve.” You grumble. “Shut up.”

“Aw,” he croons, “you must really like me. I have never seen you so sad before.”

“Steve!”

“You were jealous of that girl,” he says, and you can hear the michevious grin even when you can't look at him, “weren't you? Aw, baby.”

“Oh my God.”

Steve pries you away from his chest, but you keep struggling to hide your face behind your hands, shaking your head when he tries to pull at your wrist, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

You can't get yourself to look at him even if you tried.

At last, he is successful in prying your hands away from your face, and you look so fucking cute, all shy under his gaze. He can't get enough of you.

“I'm sorry.” Steve says, looking genuinely apologetic. He rubs the bare skin of your wrist with his thumb, “I'm sorry I made you sad.”

You nod, cracking a smile, “Steve, it's not your fault--”

“To be fair,” he kisses your knuckles, “it worked.”

Your gaze harden, “excuse me?”

He blinks at you.

“You were actually trying to make me jealous?”

“Uh, yeah.” He grimaces when he reads your disgruntled expression, “but look! It worked out--”

You retract your hands, “you absolute idiot, you knew I liked you?”

“I didn't know!” Steve shakes his head desperately, “that's the point.”

He throws his hands up, “I didn't know, so I invited that girl to the party, I thought if you did like me, you'll say something--”

“I kissed you!” You hit his bicep and he yelps, “do you know how hard it was for me?” You hit him again, and he breaks into a loving laughter, trying to grasp your wrists but you go on, “I've never kissed anyone before! I was so scared and-and humiliated! You are so...so...”

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” Steve squeals and you can't help but laugh too, but you don't break character. You land a palm on his chest with force and he falls back on the ground, his head tipping back, arms spread wide on his sides.

You crawl over him, your hands and knees on either side.

You bite back a smile, jutting your bottom lip out when you try to frown, “you didn't even kiss me back.”

Steve's eyes soften, “I'm sorry, I didn't expect you to kiss me out of nowhere, you didn't even give me a hint you wanted to kiss me, I would've kissed you if you did!”

“I've never kissed anyone before, Steve! I don't know anything about your hint.”

He laughs, and brings his hands up to wrap your arms around your back, pulling you in until you stop struggling at last and drop all your weight on top of him.

He angles your head up to steal a kiss, “I'm sorry,” he kisses you again, “I'm stupid.”

You tsk, “nuh-uh, I'm not forgiving you until--”

“Shh shh,” he hushes you, kissing you again.

You pull away for breath, “but--”

“Hush,” he kisses your lips, and licks his own when you pull away. He hums in annoyance, leaning up again, “no talking when I'm loving you.”

You cannot help the smile on your lips, this is all you wanted. To kiss him under the stars, to hold him to yourself, like he is yours and only yours in this whole town. All you wanted was to lie by his side, holding hands, to say you love him and to hear him say he loves you.

“You're an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

And you kiss him again, and again and again.

hope you liked it !! reblogs and feedback are appreciated! masterlist + taglist is in my bio!

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sabbaticalmain · 2 years

Text

Goddamn, What's A Boy To Do?

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.3k] prompt: "Is that my shirt?" soft Steve, sleepovers, clothes sharing. Going to work on a Saturday morning was easily one of the most difficult things Steve had to do with his week.

Going to work on a Saturday morning and leaving his girlfriend in his bed was fucking torture.

He groaned when the alarm went off, beeping obnoxiously from his nightstand and the tell tale signs of the morning sun slipped into the room through the gap in his curtains. It painted lines of gold over your bare back, new freckles on your shoulders from spending the previous afternoon in the pool and Steve rolled into you, lips pressing kisses along your spine.

You mumbled something into the pillow, voice sleep thick and when you finally rolled over, your boyfriend wasted no time in pressing his face to your naked chest, humming in content. You were bed warm, skin smelling like your mango body butter and leftover chlorine.

By the time you’d run your fingers through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp, Steve was dozing again, cheek squished to your sternum and his legs tangled with yours and the sheets. You felt the soft puffs of his breath over your bare skin, his arms wrapped right around your waist, he shifted in his sleep, pulling you closer.

It pained you to do it, but you dropped a kiss to his forehead, pushing your nose playfully into his wild hair, murmuring softly that he was going to be late.

He groaned again, brows furrowed and lips pouting as he pushed them into your skin, butterfly kisses across the curves of your breasts, the dip in between.

“No,” he mumbled and you smiled at the roughness of his voice, deep and scratchy with sleep. “Wanna stay w’you.”

You hummed at the thought, Saturday mornings with Steve were seldom but they were your favourite. The house to yourself, his parents naturally absent, in another state, another country, another business trip.

But it meant you could spend the day being lazy with him, tangled in sheets, whispering his name as he woke you up with his head between your thighs, dark brown eyes shining as they looked up at you. You relished in his bed head, his hair soft and misbehaving all day ‘cause he couldn’t be bothered styling it if you had no plans to leave the house.

You loved eleven o’clock showers, the morning turning bright, a hot Indiana summer outside but you shared the warm spray with Steve, the smell of his body wash filling the small en-suite. He took his time with you like that, morning stretching into lunch, bubbles and hands slipping over your skin, kisses lazy and languid, the tiles cold against your back.

You ate in the yard, half dressed and legs in the pool, body stretched out over the hot patio floor, sun drenched and eating cheese sandwiches and bowls of strawberries.

You loved the way he looked at you, like he couldn’t stop, like he never planned to. The static buzz of the radio would flood from the open kitchen window, pints of fresh lemonade on the garden table, hearts and smiley faces painted on both your backs with coconut sunscreen.

You’d swap anything for one of those days.

Steve seemed to have the same idea, his tall frame still stretched out across the bed, moving over you instead of into the shower. He pressed a knee between your thighs, a promise of something he didn’t have time to give you but he held himself over you, smile soft, eyes sleepy.

“Shower with me,” he murmured, lips ghosting over your jaw, trailing to the shell of your ear and he grinned at the eruption of goosebumps across your skin. “Please.”

You groaned, both at the idea and the reality of knowing it would make Steve late. Again. You gazed up at him, wondering how you were ever able to say no to him. He was grinning at you, hair a mess, bare chested and still warm from where he’d been pressed against you all night.

“Keith will straight up murder you if you’re not there on time,” you told him, sentence half gone as he leaned down to crowd into you, lips pushed to the corner of your own as if he could kiss away the logic.

“You’d avenge me though, right?” He asked, lips sucking a bruise underneath your jaw, successfully doing everything he could to distract you and himself from his impending shift.

You snorted, a smile on your lips and head tilted back to allow Steve more access, his teeth grazing over your neck in a way that made you wiggle against him. His hand found your hip, fingers flirting with the edge of your underwear, soft cotton and lace edges that made him feel a little weak.

“Oh, of course babe,” you nodded, pressing kisses and sarcasm to his cheek, “Keith wouldn’t stand a fucking chance.”

He grinned at the thought of you going up against his boss, lanky as you were small, but god, you were fierce. Steve pulled back a little, nudge at your cheek with his nose so you met his gaze, lips melting together, lazy and slow.

“I haven’t even brushed my teeth,” you whined, still chasing his kiss despite your protests.

“Don’t care,” the boy countered, hands sliding up your sides, thumbs grazing the soft skin on the dip of your hip, his knee moving higher into the space between your legs, rocking into you.

You sighed, dreamlike, blissed, the sun that slipped through the window bathing you both in warm and light. You could see the strip of blue sky through it, the top of Steve’s bed head as he moved down your body, taking the sheets with him as he kissed a path between your breasts, tongue catching the dip of your hip bone.

“Steve,” you tried to chastise, but it came out softer, like a whine and it made him grin against you and the press of his teeth against the band of your underwear made you cant your hips into him.

He pressed the bridge of his nose into your navel, hands on either side of your hips, drawing you into him and he tutted at the way your wriggled in his grasp.

“Pretty,” he hummed, fingers finding the lace against your thighs, plucking at it delicately. “Y’know, if you came and showered with me, we could save water-”

His words were cut short as you shook your head, grinning, bringing one of your knees up and between your bodies. Steve pouted, but your pressed your shin against his chest and pushed him away, just a little, just enough.

You raised your brows, tried to look stern when you said: “you’re going to be late, Harrington.”

Steve sighed, head tilted back to show off the strong column of his neck, faux exasperation painting his pretty features. You eyed the bruise you’d suckled on his skin, at the base of his throat where it was still pretty and lilac, proof of how good he made you feel the night before.

He grabbed your leg in response, hands wide and strong as he gripped your ankle, pressing one more kiss to the inside of your knee before relenting, tumbling off of the bed and huffing.

His gaze was dark and heavy when he looked back down at you, jaw a little slack and hair over his eyes, bed rumpled and half dressed.

“Now that’s just not fair,” he told you, lips twisted as he held in a groan.

You laughed, cheeks flushed at the effect he still had on you after all this time, looking at you like you were gold dust. You twisted in his sheets, hair mussed as you sunk further into the pillow, bare skin still on show, thighs rubbing together under the heat of his stare.

“What’s not fair?” You asked, doe eyed and acting innocent but Steve knew you better than that, knew the husk in your voice meant you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

You preened, sliding one leg up over the bed, knee bent and sheets shifting, flashing the cherry red of your underwear, cut high on your hips. You grinned when he moaned theatrically, a hand slapped to his chest as he bent at the knees, clutching at his heart.

He beamed when you laughed, sunshine and softness.

“Goddamn, what’s a boy to do?” He asked, voice dropped low as he stood at the foot of the mattress, hands wandering back up your calves, skimming over sun kissed skin, eyes on the red lace that was still peeking out from the mess of sheets and pillows.

But you repeated your earlier actions, one leg extended long as your foot found the middle of chest, pressing firm as you pushed him away and towards the bathroom door. Steve pouted, pretended to bite at your toes but he turned, grabbing the towel that hung from the hook on the door.

He threw you a look over his shoulder, still huffing at having to leave you for the entire day.

“Succubus,” he muttered.

When he finally reappeared, hair a little damp but dressed for work, wrestling into his Family Video vest, he stopped dead in the doorway, staring as you sat on the edge of the bed, shoving your feet into your shoes.

“Is that my shirt?” He asked, voice a rumble.

You looked up, plucking at the material that fell to the middle of your thighs. It was almost a dress, the tight material of your cycle shorts barely peeking out from underneath the hem.

“Mmm,” you confirmed, watching in interest as Steve wandered back into the bedroom, eyes glazed, lips parted. “Mine is still wet from when someone threw me into the pool last night.”

You stood, swiping at the strands of hair that had fallen into your face before walking over to your boyfriend, hands flat against his chest as you leaned into him.

“Is that okay?” You whispered the last part, knowing fine well the only issue Steve had with you wearing his clothes was the fact that he wasn’t able to immediately strip you out of them.

He let out a laugh, a little humourless, a little pained and he took his chance to wind his arms around your waist, spinning you both until he was able to back you against his dresser. He dropped a kiss to your cheek, chasing the corner of your lip.

“You tryin’ to make me act up?” He murmured and at your silence, he hummed, a little breathless. “Succubus,” he repeated his statement from earlier, pushing kiss after kiss into your neck until you squealed and wriggled away from him.

“You’re going to be late, Steve!” But you couldn’t help but laugh, stumbling around the room as you tried and failed to escape the boy’s wandering hands.

He caught you again, pulling you into a hug that you happily accepted, your own arms winding around his neck as you both swayed together, still sleepy and soft with happiness.

“Don’t wanna leave you,” he told you again, bending to push his face into the crook of your neck, wondering how you always smelled so good, like summer and all his favourite things.

“I know, babe,” you soothed, sympathising. ‘Cause you truly didn’t want to let him go either, but the clock by the bed was flashing angry, red letters telling you both it was almost nine. “I told Max I’d drive her to the skatepark but how ‘bout we pick you up some lunch on the way home, huh?”

Steve hummed at this, a happy sound from the back of his throat that led to his lips pressed against yours, a deep, warm kiss of appreciation.

“You gonna give me my shirt back then, too?”

“You think Keith would appreciate it? A little flash of skin?” You mused, already grinning as Steve grumbled his protests, swearing as you laughed. “Maybe that’s how we can make up for your terrible timekeeping skills!”

Your faux enthusiasm made the boy smile but he tried to hide it with a scowl, lips twisted and eyes dark at the idea of anyone else but him seeing you like that.

“Absolutely fucking not, sweetheart,” he growled and he tapped at your ass, a little possessive, a little playful.

You hummed happily, laughter still bubbling in your chest but you kissed the pout from Steve’s lips to make up for your teasing, hand grasping his chin to bring him down to meet you, the boy obliging without protest.

He nipped at your bottom lip, making you squeal, another kiss pressed quick to your cheek and then your forehead before he grabbed your hand, leading you out of the door.

“C’mon now, you’re gonna make me late.”

He grinned at your gasp, slipping out the way of your playful smacks of indignation and he got handsy with you as you both stumbled your way out of his house, sun beaming through each window you passed, Mrs Harrington’s crystal vases spilling rainbows over the floors and walls.

Steve called out to you as you parted one last time, your hand already on the door of your car, keys jingling. He whistled, a flirtatious noise that always had you blushing and when you looked over the roof of the vehicle, you caught his eye.

He already had his sunglasses on, arms tanned and flexed as he rested them on the top of his own car, lips curled into a smile that was just for you. He nodded his head at your chest, his shirt soft and too big against your body, and he called out, voice full of adoration. “It looks better on you.”

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