#Stevie Harrington gives me every feeling ever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mcdynamite · 5 months

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Kissing has never done all that much for Steve, if he’s honest.

It's just not really something he's ever given much thought to before - the way someone kisses - despite the fact that he's locked lips with plenty of people. For him, kissing has always been something nice, but not particularly special. It's never been earth-shattering. Never taken his breath away, the way people talk about in movies and books. It's just a way to be closer to someone, and it's nice, but it's never anything more than that.

Then, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time, and suddenly he gets it.

They're high when it happens, laying side by side in Eddie's unmade bed while the weed sinks into their bones. Steve loves the way it seems to slow down the world around them - makes everything syrupy and sweet, so he feels every brush of Eddie's fingers against his own in every inch of his body as they pass the joint back and forth.

The casual contact makes him long for more, and when he's high, Steve just...gives into the longing. He lets himself drift closer until they're pressed together so closely that Eddie can hide his face in Steve's uncharacteristically messy hair when he's trying to cover up a snort of laughter in response to Steve's deranged weed-induced musings.

Tonight, they meander their way through a directionless conversation - as they so often do when they get high together - until the joint is so small it nearly singes their fingertips. When Eddie finally sits up to stamp it out in the ashtray on the bedside table, Steve tries not to miss the feeling of Eddie's body against his own too much, knowing it'll be back soon enough.

"I'm thinking of handing over the DM throne to Will for the next oneshot, after we finish this campaign," Eddie says, speech slow and thoughtful as he puts out the blunt. "Think he'll be good at it."

Steve just hums, eyes heavy-lidded, gaze fixed on the curls he wants so badly to run his fingers through, just to know what it feels like. He's high enough to not care about the consequences when he decides fuck it, and reaches out to feel the soft ringlets beneath his fingertips.

"You're good at it," he muses - a delayed response to Eddie's comment. If Eddie is bothered by the way Steve is carefully petting his hair, he doesn't show it. Instead, he turns back to look down at Steve with a soft smile that makes Steve's insides feel all gooey.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, a hint of a smirk overtaking the softness. "You ready to admit that you like watching me play my little nerd game, Harrington?"

Steve blames the quiet whine that escapes his throat on the weed, along with the way he honest-to-God pouts in response to Eddie's words. He tugs on a lock of Eddie's hair petulantly. "Don't like it when you call me that."

Eddie's face does something strange then, and Steve can't quite parse out what it means with the weed making his brain all foggy. He looks...surprised? Fond? Maybe both?

"Sorry, Stevie," he replies, teasing but somehow genuine at the same time. Steve smiles dopily, an expression that Eddie returns. "That better?"

Satisfied, Steve nods. Hums in affirmation. "Yeah. I like that one."

And it's true. Steve loves when Eddie calls him Stevie, because Eddie always sounds so fond when he does, and it makes Steve's heart feel too big for his chest.

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, still grinning as he leans down until he's propped up on one elbow, hovering just over Steve on the bed. "What else do you want me to call you, hm? Stevie? Steve? M'lord?"

The last one makes Steve laugh and close his eyes, happy to bask in the sound of Eddie's voice as he floats along with their conversation.

"Sir Steven? Sweetheart?" Eddie continues, and Steve's heart jumps just a bit at the second one. Then, Eddie murmurs, "Baby?"

And Steve's eyes fly open.

Steve stares at his friend with wide eyes - lips parted as a soft, punched-out oh escapes him - and it's weird, is the thing. Because Steve has been called baby before, lovingly by his grandmother when he was still a little boy causing mischief while his parents weren't watching, meanly by boys on the playground when he cried over something silly like a scraped knee…and when he got older, teasingly by the girls he took on dates.

It's not a new name for him, but it feels groundbreaking nonetheless.

Because the word sounds so much better coming from Eddie's mouth than anyone else's. It's soft, and fond, and knowing, and...

It's longing.

"Yeah,” Steve croaks. "Yeah."

"Which one? Sir Steven?" Eddie asks playfully, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. He grins maniacally when Steve huffs and shakes his head in disappointment. "No? Which one was it, then, that you liked the most?"

"Eddieeee," Steve complains, burying his flushed face into the pillow and avoiding his friend's gaze. "You know which one."

Eddie shakes his head in an almost scolding manner and Steve is convinced he must've moved closer, because Steve can feel Eddie's breath against his skin, and the air in the room feels about a hundred degrees hotter.

"Nuh-uh, Stevie," Eddie says, poking him playfully in the ribs. "You gotta tell me which one."

Steve hesitates, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second. He sort of wants to hide, but he also really wants Eddie to call him that again. It's probably thanks to his intoxicated brain that he allows himself to answer truthfully. "Baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically shy.

"Yeah?" Eddie says, voice and smile softening in tandem. "You like when I call you baby, Stevie?"

Steve stares up at him with wide eyes, hardly able to believe this is really happening, and nods. "Yeah. That one."

Eddie is so close, now, that Steve can feel the warmth that emanates from his skin; can see the flecks of gold in his eyes amongst the molten chocolate brown. He's got freckles - Steve realizes. Tiny little dots across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks that form constellations on his skin. Steve thinks, maybe a bit deliriously, that he would be perfectly happy spending hours tracing them, the way astronomers of old once traced the stars.

"Eddie..." he breathes, heart pounding as he begins to feel more and more desperate for...for something. Anything to let him know that he's not the only one succumbing to the gravitational pull between them.

Eddie blinks slowly, and his eyes widen as though he's just realized something important. Steve watches his throat bob nervously before Eddie finally whispers, "Yeah, baby?"

Steve inhales sharply through parted lips - a soft, plaintive gasp that draws Eddie's eyes to his lips, and-

Oh.

That's what Steve wants, isn't it?

"I-" Steve tries, helpless to stop his own gaze from falling on Eddie's lips - pink and parted and just a little bit chapped, and so, so close.

"Baby," Eddie says again, and this time it's different. Unintentional. Like Eddie said it without meaning to. And maybe it's just the weed, but Steve swears he can feel the word burrowing its way into his chest and settling around his heart like a blanket. It makes his whole body feel warm - something only made worse by the hot coal of desire that begins smoldering low in his gut.

He's so lost in it all that he can't even bring himself to feel embarrassed when he whispers, "Please."

Steve waits with bated breath until finally, any remaining nervousness retreats from Eddie's eyes, and Eddie smiles in that way that makes Steve's stomach flutter. It's such a pretty smile. Steve can only watch as it grows closer, going cross-eyed for the briefest moment in his quest to to stare at Eddie's lips until suddenly his eyes are fluttering shut, because...because...

Because Eddie kisses him with lips still curled into a smile, and Steve thinks - utterly nonsensically - that feeling Eddie's lips against his own is so much better than just looking at them. The thought makes him giggle, just a bit, and he finds himself grinning into the kiss, too.

They part for a moment so Steve can let out another quiet giggle, and Eddie seems to pause for a moment, smiling down at Steve with poorly concealed affection. "Baby," he murmurs reverently, and then he's leaning down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss.

This time, Steve is ready for it, but it draws a muffled whimper out of him nonetheless. His nose fills with the scent of weed and cigarettes and cheap cologne - the smell of Eddie - and it's so overwhelmingly good. He lets his lips fall open on a gasp...doesn't close them when Eddie tentatively brushes his tongue against Steve's own. He shuts his eyes, because the press of Eddie's hand to his cheek and Eddie's chest to his own feel like so much more like that.

Eddie breaks the kiss to gasp in a breath, and inexplicably, that's what really sends every last bit of restraint in Steve's brain packing. It's so simple, so ordinary - the soft, quick sip of air Eddie takes in. It's a breathy little sound that Steve has heard from countless others before, but maybe that's why it puts him in this unfamiliar chokehold of wanting.

This isn't just anyone.

This is Eddie.

And Eddie is making those quiet, lovely little sounds because he's kissing Steve, and Steve is very rapidly realizing that he is utterly incapable of being normal about any of this.

He feels his cheeks go hot as he forces his heavy limbs to move so he can tangle his fingers in Eddie's curls, holding him close (because Steve thinks he might die if Eddie stops kissing him, now). And it's bliss. It's addictive. It's ruinously tender, and Steve feels himself unraveling from within. Feels the knots in his heart - left behind by absent parents, cruel friends, and distant girlfriends - turn to dust at the gentlest brush of Eddie's lips.

He whimpers into Eddie's mouth and clings to him even tighter, feeling his throat grow strangely tight as his eyes sting at the corners, and when Eddie pulls away he's got a small furrow in his brow, just under his bangs.

"Stevie?" Eddie murmurs. His eyes dart to Steve's cheeks, and when he brushes his thumb along the skin just under Steve's eye, it drags a bit of wetness with it. Only then does Steve realize...he's crying.

And Eddie is wiping away his tears.

"I..." Steve croaks, eyes wide and spilling more tears with every blink. He drags his hands down from Eddie's hair to rest on his chest, beginning to curl into himself as the embarrassment sinks in.

Christ, he's crying. And all they've done is kiss.

Eddie's frown deepens, but he doesn't pull away completely. Instead, he lets their noses brush and breathes, "Baby..."

Steve's breath hitches.

"You're shaking, sweetheart," Eddie continues, still brushing Steve's tears away with gentle fingers. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Steve gasps hurriedly, because as far as he understands, it's the truth. "Nothing's wrong, I just..." He closes his eyes. Swallows the lump in his throat and admits with a trembling voice, "I didn't know it could be like this."

He opens his eyes and sees Eddie's expression soften, but the concern remains. "What do you mean?"

"I just..." Steve tries, sniffling and letting out a quiet, distressed laugh. He slams his eyes shut again and rubs them roughly with his palms, trying to force the tears back into his body. "Jesus, this is fucking embarrassing, man."

"Steve..." Eddie murmurs. He sounds sad. Conflicted. Like he's not sure what to do or how to help - if he should stay or go - and that just won't do, because Steve is certain he'll drift away on the breeze without Eddie to ground him. He's got to try to explain, even with his thoughts still feeling syrupy slow from the weed.

He wants to tell Eddie that he's kissed dozens of people before, but kissing them never felt like this. He wants to explain that he's used to taking the lead, and that it's nice having someone else set the pace, for once. He wants to tell Eddie about the way most people he's kissed have done so - frantically...lustfully. Kissing has always been a simple means to an end. And it's never made Steve feel like this.

What he actually manages to say is slightly different, though.

"No one's ever kissed me like they love me, before."

His eyes are still covered by his own hands, so he can't see what is surely a stunned expression on Eddie's face, but he can hear the way Eddie gasps in response to Steve's words.

It’s too much, he thinks. He's said too much, fast-forwarded too far into the movie. It's too early to be talking about love. Steve knows this. It's just...

His stupid, floaty little brain can't envision a world where someone kisses the way Eddie does without being hopelessly, irrevocably in love.

"Shit," Steve breathes after several minutes of silence. Or maybe it's several seconds. He really doesn't know. Time feels funny, when he's high. "I know that's, like, way too much. I'm too much. I don't know why I-"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts, and Steve snaps his mouth shut. He feels Eddie's hands wrap carefully around his wrists to pull them from his eyes. Eddie is being so careful with him...like he can't see that his tenderness is exactly the thing that’s ripping Steve apart at the seams.

Steve wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to drag Eddie back down and kiss him until he can't breathe. Until Eddie's sweetness becomes warm and comforting instead of feeling like the scalding heat of jumping into a hot tub after a dip in the cold waters of the pool.

"Baby, look at me," Eddie says softly.

Steve is helpless but to obey.

Eddie's gaze is sad but kind when Steve finally meets it with his own. He's got the barest hint of a smile on his pretty lips - the same ones Steve so desperately wants to feel against his own, again - and Steve feels his stomach swirl with something he can't quite describe.

"It's not too much," Eddie continues, voice steady. "And neither are you, okay? You, Steve Harrington, are never too much. Not to me."

The words settle over Steve like a blanket, and he can't decide whether it's comforting or suffocating. He just wants to stop talking about things so they can move on. He just wants Eddie.

"Eds..." he rasps desperately. "I don't- I just want-" He cuts himself off with the hitching breath of what may be a sob. He's not really sure, at this point.

"What can I do, honey?" Eddie says, and he really needs to stop with the pet names, or Steve might genuinely fracture into pieces. "What do you want?"

Steve is sunk too deep into the syrupy slow feeling of the weed - too desperate to feel Eddie pressed against him again - to do anything but tell the truth.

"Just want you," he says.

Eddie smiles - eyes crinkling at the corners - and Steve breathes the sight in like oxygen. "You have me, baby," Eddie murmurs. He's rubbing small, comforting circle into the sensitive skin of Steve's wrists now, and it's perfect. It's wonderfully, disgustingly perfect.

"I do?" Steve asks dumbly. His brain feels fifteen seconds behind everything, but he thinks that's probably okay. Eddie seems to be just fine waiting for him to catch up.

"Yeah, Stevie," Eddie chuckles quietly. "Had me for a long time, now. Just wasn't sure if you would want me the way I wanted you."

"You want me," Steve says breathlessly, more to himself than to Eddie. "You wanna kiss me."

Eddie's resulting laugh is a bit louder, a bit brighter, this time. "I do," he says. The sadness is fading from his eyes, giving way to something that looks an awful lot like elation. Steve remains still and watches, entranced, as Eddie carefully hauls himself up until he can swing a leg over Steve's to straddle him.

Still smiling broadly, Eddie leans down until their faces are mere inches apart, studying Steve with those big, brown eyes. "You gonna let me?" he asks Steve, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Steve nods, lips parted in surprise he can't quite seem to shake, and Eddie's expression softens.

"Gonna let me kiss you like I love you, Stevie?" Eddie whispers.

Steve's not sure when, exactly, his tears had begun to dry up, but he knows they must have at some point, because they're returning with a vengeance, now. "Please," he breathes.

Eddie shifts, and Steve expects Eddie to go right back to kissing him, but that's not what he does.

Instead, Eddie releases one of Steve's wrists and cups his cheek tenderly. This time, the feeling of his thumb brushing the tears away is a familiar one, and it makes Steve smile dopily.

"You know the reason I kiss you like I love you?" Eddie asks. Steve shakes his head and tracks Eddie's gaze as it drifts towards the place where his fingers are still wrapped around Steve's wrist. His lips quirk into a smile as he uses his grip to pin Steve's hand to the mattress, right beside Steve's head, and laces their fingers together.

Their noses are brushing, now, and Eddie's hips are resting on Steve's, and Eddie's hair has fallen around them like a curtain to keep the rest of the world out, and it's so much. Eddie is everywhere, and he's everything, and Steve is completely, unquestioningly in love with him - probably has been in love with him for ages, now, and just never let himself think too hard about it.

"I kiss you like I love you, Steve Harrington," Eddie breathes, and their lips brush as he speaks. "Because I love you."

And the thing is…Steve has spent his entire life wondering what it would feel like to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was loved. It's something that's eluded him for twenty years.

So it's all the more miraculous when Eddie kisses him again, and suddenly, Steve knows. He knows that Eddie Munson loves him. He feels it in the way Eddie kisses him slowly and deliberately, like it would never have crossed Eddie's mind not to. He feels it in their linked hands, in the way Eddie squeezes his hand when Steve makes a desperate, wanton sound into his mouth.

He feels it when Eddie brushes the hair out of his eyes and smiles before kissing Steve's forehead, then his nose, and then his lips again.

Feels it when Eddie's lips begin to wander down his neck.

When Eddie sucks a mark into the thin skin above his collar bone, just because Steve begs him too.

When Eddie pulls Steve's shirt over his head with careful hands, then lets Steve do the same, because Steve needs the intimacy of skin on skin.

He feels it when Eddie stops Steve's wandering hands from venturing too far south with a firm grip and apologetic eyes, because Eddie wants him - of course he does - but not when they've been smoking. Not when there's even the slightest chance that Steve might wake up and regret it in the morning.

And he hears it, too, later that night when they're laying in Eddie's bed exchanging soft, sleepy kisses, unwilling to drift off and let the night end, just yet.

Their legs are woven together - bare, aside from their boxers - and Steve has lost track of how long they've been tangled up in each other like this. He doesn't particularly care, though. He's pretty sure he could happily spend the rest of his life exactly like this.

"Love you, Stevie," Eddie whispers against his lips. They both smile into the next kiss, and Steve's heart is full to bursting, because he believes it. He knows, now, what it feels like to be loved...to be adored.

"I love you," he murmurs in reply, relishing in Eddie's sharp intake of breath. He giggles a bit, for no reason other than the pure joy that's been coursing through his body all night. "God," he laughs. "I fucking love you, Eddie Munson.

Eddie is quiet for a moment before his face splits into a grin that could rival Steve's own, and he's so goddamn beautiful that Steve almost feels like crying again.

He doesn't cry, though. He just watches adoringly as Eddie smiles and nudges Steve's nose with his own. "Yeah, baby?" Eddie teases.

"Yeah, Eds," he answers simply.

And he's pretty sure Eddie knows - is pretty sure Eddie can feel it - because Steve kisses him for the umpteenth time that night, and he pours every ounce of his heart into it.

Steve kisses Eddie like he loves him, because he does. God, help him, he does.

And Eddie?

Eddie kisses Steve like he loves him back, and Steve gets it now, because it’s more than just a kiss.

It’s perfect.

It’s earth-shattering.

It’s everything.

Shout-out to @lyphyshard for the beta!

For more of my Steddie blurbs and one-shots, check out my masterlist!

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #soft steddie #steddie fluff #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #first kiss #cw: weed #stranger things #i'm so normal about them

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steveshairychest · 1 year

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Steve hates February 14th.

It's a constant reminder that he is alone, that no one ever wants to stick around with him long enough to celebrate Valentine's Day. Most of them leave after one night together.

It's also his birthday. The former heartthrob of Hawkins High was born on Valentine's Day, but he can't even get himself a date. Or a birthday party. Every year that they were around, his parents would go out for their annual Valentine's Day dinner and leave Steve to celebrate his birthday on his own. He stopped associating the day with his birthday by the time he was 13.

Now, he spent the day giving out roses and chocolates to all his friends so that they feel special, so that they don't feel as left out and forgotten as he did for his whole life.

Dustin and Mike fake gag when he gives them both a box of their favourite chocolate and Will blushes and stumbles through a thank you while holding his chocolates to his chest. He got Max and Lucas a big box of chocolates to share on their date.

Robin smacks a dramatic wet kiss to his cheek when he gifts her a bunch of sunflowers (her favourite flower), she also slips something into his pocket when no one's looking and whispers, "Happy birthday." He pulls her into a tight hug and thanks her quietly.

Steve spent a lot of time debating what to get Eddie. Their friendship felt like something more, but neither of them has put a label on what the hell they are to each other, so he decides to keep it simple. He rocks up to Eddie's new trailer with a box of chocolates under his arm and a small bunch of roses clutched tightly in his hands. He's so fucking nervous he forgets to knock.

After gently knocking, the door is pulled open and Steve nearly stumbles down the steps because Eddie is wearing a fucking suit. An all black three piece suit with his hair tied up. He looks hot. So hot all Steve can do is stare.

Eddie groans and runs a hand down his face, careful not to smudge his eye-liner. "Damn it, Harrington. You're not supposed to be here." He sounded... disappointed.

Steve takes in Eddie's outfit again and the pieces slowly start to come together in his mind. How could he be so stupid? "Shit, sorry, Eds. Are you on a date with someone? Nevermind. I don't want to know. I'll just, uh, go. Sorry to interrupt." He turns away as quick as possible and hurries down the few steps.

He should have known. Eddie doesn't want to spend Valentine's Day with him. They're just friends. God, he's so stupid.

A hand gently grabs his arm and stops his hurried retreat. "Steve, wait." Eddie stands in front of him, his heeled dress shoes making him slightly taller than Steve. "I don't have a date with anyone."

Steve finds that hard to believe. He's in a suit for fuck sake. He's even brushed his hair and styled it so nicely. He's lying to make Steve feel better. "Whatever, Eds. I really don't care– "

Eddie surprises him in that moment. He reaches out and holds Steve's face so, so gently in his hands. Steve doesn't know what to do, he's frozen in shock and unable to look away from Eddie, who's standing so close now. He brushes a thumb gently across Steve's flushed cheek. "Steve, I don't have a date because I was on my way to your place. To ask you."

"Ask me? On a date?" Steve is struggling to wrap his head around the situation. Having Eddie so close is causing all coherent thoughts in his head to disintegrate. All he can focus on is the smell of Eddie's cologne and the cool sting of his rings on his skin and the slight shine on his lips because, fuck, he's wearing lip gloss.

Eddie laughs and steps even closer, their noses almost brushing as he invades Steve's space. "I've been wanting to ask you out for weeks, Stevie. I thought today would be the best day. I even bought you a birthday present."

Steve wants to cry. He wants to cry and laugh and kiss Eddie Munson until he can't breathe. "How do you know it's my birthday?" Dustin doesn't even know it's his birthday. Hell, he's pretty sure his own parents don't know it's his birthday.

Eddie sighs and rests his forehead against Steve's, the intimate action steals Steve's breath away. He's too nervous to move, to even breathe. They've never been this close before. Eddie closes his eyes and just breathes for a moment before answering Steve's question. "Dude, I've been madly in love with you for an entire year. It'd be pretty shitty if I didn't know when your birthday was." He says it so casually, so easily, like he's talking about the weather.

Steve can't even be angry that he called him 'Dude' in the middle of his confession because Eddie is pulling away, his eyes full of worry as he takes in Steve's shocked expression. "Fuck, that was too much. I'm sorry –"

Steve drops the roses and the chocolates, grabs the collar of Eddie's suit, and shuts his rambling up with a kiss.

#blegh hate this but you can have it #my allergies are really bad today #been sneezing like crazy #my eyes are so itcjy and watery i could hardly see the keyboard #BUT OH WELL #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #stranger things s4

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stevie-petey · 4 months

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pretty girl

“Unfair. I was at least–” he breathes out sharply as you begin to suck lazily just below his jaw. “I was gentle, pretty girl. This just, fuck, this feels like torture.” “Shush and let me kiss you, Stevie.”

Summary: steve has to get his daily kiss quota in somehow, right?

Rating: general, makeout session, cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, slight neck kink if u arent into that, mild makeout session (so so so mild tho) - not proofread, i just kinda wrote so pls ignore typos lmao

Words: 1.1k

Before you swing in: hello ! i was in a bit of a lovey dovey mood, and while i adore writing come home, i simply couldnt bring myself to write more repressed feelings tonight. so, heres a quick lil boyfriend!steve blurb. it isnt at all correlated with come home (although if u squint ... maybe) its just me being so engrossed in my current crush and needing to be severely kissed. rip. anyways, enjoy !

Every night, Steve throws rocks outside your window.

The rocks pang softly against the glass, one after another, as they bounce harmlessly on their endeavor to get your attention.

Every night, you answer.

“What ails you tonight, Harrington?” You’ve opened your window now, leaning your head out so that you can see the boy standing below.

He winks at you. “The usual.”

“Hm,” you rest your elbows against the wooden panel encasing your window. “How many do you need this time?”

“Hard to say, but if I had to guess… A million, honestly.”

You laugh. “A million, huh?”

“Maybe even more.” Steve smiles up at you, admiring how the moonlight frames your pretty face, making it even softer than he ever thought possible. It takes his breath away for a second, knowing how the face staring down at him is the same face that stares up at him whenever morning comes.

“Give me five minutes, lovely.”

Steve smiles at the nickname, letting it warm his face as well as his bones. “I’ll go warm up the car.”

You wave, blowing the boy a quick kiss, before closing your window to go over to your dresser. The top drawer has long come to contain your nighttime adventure outfits with Steve. A simple pair of sweatpants and his hoodie that you stole years ago but never gave back.

He knows you have it still, but you know he secretly loves seeing you wear it.

As soon as you’re ready, slippers and all, you quietly run down your stairs so you don’t disturb your parents and unlock the front door. The lock clicks harshly against the night’s quietness, but with one smooth turn you manage to undo the lock and open the door.

Steve, true to his word, is waiting in his car with the heat blasting, just the way you like it.

It’s winter, early January, and school hasn’t quite started back up yet.

The second you approach the car, Steve gets out and walks to the passenger side so that he can open it before you even touch its handle. You scoff at the overdramatic mannerisms, but blush nonetheless.

“I can open my own door, Steve.”

He shrugs. “Sure, but you’re beautiful and I love you.”

The words fall freely from his lips, and you intertwine your hand behind his neck and pull his lips flushed against yours. He hums into it, pulls you so that your chests are engulfed together and your legs stumble and enclose around his. It’s messy, your other hand clutches at Steve’s jacket and he relishes in the way your knuckles tighten around him.

“One down, a million more to go.” Steve whispers against your lips.

You laugh, throwing your head back and he watches the sight of it all. How your neck lengthens as you laugh, the way your hair cascades behind you and the way your eyes crinkle shut. You put on a whole show for him, and he can’t get enough of it.

“You really think we can get through a million kisses tonight?” You ask, nudging your nose against the length of Steve’s jaw.

He shivers. “Got a few ways I think we can manage that.”

You pull away now, though you keep your hand at the nape of his neck. “At least take a girl on a date first.”

“I’m trying, pretty girl.” He gestures toward the car, its engine humming softly. You roll your eyes, but when Steve finally opens the passenger door, you reluctantly let go of him and sit down. “Atta girl, Y/N.”

Before you can huff at him for the nickname, Steve gently closes the door and heads over to his own driver’s side. He opens the door, the warm air escaping a bit, and as soon as Steve is in the car he tugs at your hoodie (his hoodie) and once again you’re kissing.

It’s longer this time, languid and lingering. He brings a hand up to your cheek and his thumb strokes the high point in a fluid back and forth motion. You lean deeper into him, your own hands coming up to his chest as if you could bring him any closer to you.

Steve nips at your bottom lip and you let him in, you always let him in.

You gasp as he sucks on the lip and you feel him smile at your reaction. With one hand still caressing your cheek, his other hand comes up to the base of your neck. It’s warm, he’s always so warm, and his calloused fingers find their usual place, splayed across both sides of your neck. His palm settles just above your collarbones and your breath hitches.

“Steve…” You exhale his name, as if it were a prayer.

He pulls away a little, his eyes a molten honey color in the moonlight. “Yes, pretty girl?”

You turn your head and press a kiss against the hand still on your cheek. “Three down, 999,999,997 to go.”

“Make that four,” Steve presses a kiss to your nose, then your cheek, then to the tips of your eyelashes. “Now eight.”

You giggle as he presses another kiss to your temple and then your ear. He’s everywhere, now, peppering kisses on every inch of skin he can find. “And here, and here, and here…”

Steve goes down to your neck now, his nose trailing down the bare skin, making you shiver, and his kisses are so soft. Despite his teasing and the hold he still has on your neck, his lips leave a trail so soft and sanguine against your skin that they burn like whiskey.

He reaches for your hand now, bringing the length of your arm up to his face, and just before he presses even more kisses against you, you laugh and pull your arm back. Steve starts to whine, unhappy with his kisses being interrupted, but you comb your fingers through his hair.

“Seems unfair to make you do all the work, lovely.”

Steve’s lips are red and swollen from earlier, they almost distract you from his response. “Shush and let me kiss you.”

He tries to duck his head back down to your neck for more, but you stop him. “Nuh-uh. My turn.”

Before Steve can argue some more, you tug at his jacket, and because you’ve caught him off guard, he falls so far forward that his neck is open for the taking. You press your own kisses against it, connecting the moles that litter his skin with a kiss, and Steve exhales shakily as you do so.

“Unfair. I was at least–” he breathes out sharply as you begin to suck lazily just below his jaw. “I was gentle, pretty girl. This just, fuck, this feels like torture.”

“Shush and let me kiss you, Stevie.”

Steve’s hand tightens around your neck as the other flies up to your head, pressing you further into his neck as you suck on a spot that he particularly likes. “Yeah… Fuck, okay. Shutting up now.”

⌑ writing masterlist

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem #stranger things #m's writing #fluff #this is a cute lil thing #yall are welcome

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tboygareth · 11 months

Text

got the idea in my head of the party clocking the steddie tension and bullying eddie about it so this happened | 1.7k | rating: g or t, depending on how you feel about swearing

“I’m gonna need you two to either quit that or get your shit together and make out already.”

Eddie drags his eyes away from the door at the top of the basement stairs that Steve’s just closed on his way out to pick up Max and El, back to the task at hand, the table in front of him, his lost little sheep taking their places around the table in the Wheelers’ basement. It's Erica that spoke up, her eyebrow raised in a condescending kind of way that Eddie’s not sure if she learned from her mother or from Steve.

“Hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he chastises, a little belatedly, a lot unnecessarily, and very obviously a deflection from the meat and potatoes of what she said.

It’s not just little Sinclair watching Eddie anymore; they’re all peering expectantly at him like they’re waiting for an explanation. Well, they’re not gonna get it. This little dance that he and Steve are doing - if it’s even a dance at all - is nobody’s business but their own.

It’s been months now and it’s driving Eddie out of his goddamned mind but it’s not like he’s going to talk to the fucking kids about it. Jeff and Grant have been pretty receptive about the whole thing and Eddie’s talked both their ears off to the point of annoyance. Gareth won’t even give him the time of day anymore when Eddie starts in on talking about Steve.

It’s just that he and Steve have had this little back and forth going for a few months now, where they’ll flirt and Eddie will just start to think that maybe’s he’s got a shot and then Steve will back away. And then they’ll go a few days without talking and they’ll be back at it with a vengeance, picking on each other and making suggestive comments and very intentionally checking one another out.

But then Eddie’ll see Steve laying that same charm onto every girl that walks into the video store and snap back to himself. The mixed signals make him want to scream a little bit. One minute he’s psyching himself up to ask Steve to come back to his after work, maybe watch a stupid movie and make out on the couch, but then he reminds himself that he’s fucking delusional and Steve is just like that. He’s a flirt, and the way he flirts with Eddie doesn’t mean anything.

But the kids are still watching him, still waiting for an explanation about the way he and Steve were just gazing at each other as Steve climbed the stairs to leave, and so Eddie sighs.

“It’s nothing, okay?”

“Right,” says Henderson with a roll of his eyes and a shrug of his shoulders. “Which is why you two can’t stop making those lovesick faces at each other and flirting with each other, and why neither of you can ever shut up about each other.”

“Steve talks about me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Mike mutters. He’s tipping his chair back, balancing it on two legs. It’d be so easy for Eddie to just… tap it with his foot, send little Wheeler to the floor.

“Anyway!” Eddie says again, clapping his hands together. “It doesn’t matter! It’s nothing! Stevie’s just… like that. Y’know? With everybody. Let’s get to work, we’ve got a campaign to get through, no reason for us to be wasting time talking about Steve Harrington. Right?”

“Wait,” Will cuts in. His smile is a little mischievous, a little mean, and suddenly Eddie doesn’t remember why he likes the littlest Byers as much as he does. “You think Steve acts the way he does with you, with everybody?”

“Yeah. We’re friends. He’s… flirtatious. It’s not a thing, y’know? It’s just. A thing.”

“So you really think he willingly stuffs four teenagers in his car every Friday night to drop us off here, and then goes back out to pick up two more teenagers to bring them out here because…? Friends?” Lucas is looking at Eddie like he thinks he might be ready to grow another head.

Okay. Fuck. So they’re actually talking about this. Eddie and a bunch of snotty little kids are about to talk about his fucking crush on their babysitter. Jesus Christ.

“Listen. We are not discussing this.”

Will ignores him. “If you like him, ask him out.”

“And ruin a perfectly good friendship, baby Byers? I think I’ll pass. Besides, him and Nance…”

“Are long over,” Will insists, leaning forward and putting his arms on the table. “She’s still going out with my brother.”

“Like I said,” Erica cuts in again, “I need you two to suck face already or cut it out. We might be kids but we aren’t blind.”

“Please, he doesn’t even like me like that.”

“Are you kidding?” Dustin again. It’s like a game of round robin, each kid around the table lobbing questions and insistences at him in turn. “How can you say that, Eddie? The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you. He spends his Fridays here, in his ex-girlfriend's basement, to spend time with you. Don’t you see the way he watches you?”

“He just… I tell a good story.”

Mike lets loose a scoff and a sigh that could very well shake the foundations of the house around them. “I don’t even like Steve, but yeah. He treats you different. Special.”

“I already told you - he flirts with everybody. He’s a flirt! That doesn’t mean that it means something.”

“Who else does he call baby?” Lucas asks him, deadpan.

“He has pet names for everybody.”

“No he doesn’t. Who else is he going around touching all the time?”

“Robin, who he does have a pet name for. He calls her Bird.”

“Because you started calling her Bird. He picked that up from you,” Dustin argues. “And yes, he talks about you. He asks about you when he hasn’t seen you in a few days. He mentions stuff you said. He had an Ozzy tape playing in his car today and when I asked about it, y’know what he said?”

“‘Eddie gave it to me,’” Will supplies with a smile. “And he was smiling when he said it. That weird smile he gets sometimes. You know the one.”

“The Eddie smile.”

Eddie’s mouth is dry. His head is swimming a little bit. His heart races. There’s blood pounding in his ears as he thinks about Steve listening to The Ultimate Sin in his car even when Eddie’s not around to tell him about the production of the album or explain the intricacies of the instrumentals. He listens to it because he enjoys the music Eddie’s shown him. He talks about Eddie to the kids, asks about him.

Eddie exists to Steve outside of the weekly campaigns at the Wheelers’.

Doesn’t mean Steve likes Eddie the way Eddie likes him, though. Eddie can’t let himself dwell too much on the possibilities of what that could mean. He’s been crushing for months now. It’s almost winter in Hawkins, and Steve’s started coming around to campaigns more and more often the closer to the holidays it gets; Eddie figured it’s because Nancy will be coming home for Christmas soon - she was just here for Thanksgiving and Steve spent most of that Friday upstairs with her instead of in the basement with Eddie and the kids. So Eddie just kind of figured they were reconciling…

He’d moped about it after he went home, certain that he’d never have a chance with Steve in spite of his very big, very obvious crush on him.

The thing is, Eddie’s never been all that subtle in his affections. He’s a tactile guy as it is, but with Steve it’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself at all. He finds himself reaching out whenever they’re together, a moon orbiting a planet, and Steve is all too willing to be the gravitational pull that draws Eddie close.

But that doesn’t mean he likes Eddie.

Which is what he says to the kids. They’re still looking at him, waiting for his response.

“You are so blind, God,” Mike groans, covering his face. “We can all see the way he feels about you, and you’re so gaga for him it’s a fucking miracle he hasn’t asked you out himself. Jesus, we are all so sick of this shit.”

“Language, Wheeler.”

“Stop deflecting, Munson. If you don’t say something when he gets back here, I’m gonna tell him for you. We’re all fucking tired of this!”

“I don’t wanna hear it from you, of all people!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t know then I’m not gonna tell you. Dumbass teenagers.”

There’s a flurry of footfalls above them, and then the basement door opens to reveal El and Max coming slowly down the stairs with Steve following close behind.

“Tense down here,” Steve smiles. “What’d we just walk in on?”

Panic rises in Eddie as Mike pins him with an evil smile and starts to open his mouth to spill the beans.

“Good news first or bad news first?” Eddie blurts out, holding out a hand towards Mike to shut him up.

“Uh oh,” Steve says. He pauses on the bottom step as the girls hover near the table. Steve’s eyebrows draw together, a little confused and a little concerned, and Eddie’s overcome with the urge to reach out and touch him. “Bad news first, always.”

“We were arguing about you.”

“And the good news?”

“Good news for you, either way. You have the option to prove them all wrong or severely gross them out.”

That crease between Steve’s eyebrows deepens. “What are you talking about?”

Well. Here goes nothing.

“The kids are all convinced you’re into me the same way I’m into you but I told ‘em that’s ridiculous. So you can tell ‘em they’re all idiots or you can come over here and kiss me, make ‘em all wanna wash their eyes out with bleach.”

Steve’s smile is slow to spread, but spread it does. It starts as a twitch in the corner of his mouth and his face softens. That twitch goes a little lopsided, one side of his mouth tipping up into an uncertain smile before it bleeds over onto the rest of his mouth, and he’s grinning.

The Eddie smile.

It takes him no time at all to cross from the stairs to where Eddie sits at the head of the table and he drags Eddie up out of his seat.

“Guess we better get some bleach ready, then, baby,” Steve says.

And then he kisses him.

because you both asked to be tagged literally anytime i write something: @steves-strapcollection and @patchworkgargoyle - here, i wrote something

#bee's blurbs #steddie #anyway this was thrown together in like. an hour or so?#yeah i'm still working on wip weekend requests i just had to get this down before i forgot

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moonpascaltoo · 3 months

Text

Fic Recs (steve harrington)

just some of my favorite one-shots or series i’ve read on ao3 and few from tumblr. all works ranging from 1.5k to 30k+ i believe. 18+ readers!

some have a tumblr that i tagged, but others i couldn’t find . i am doing this on mobile which is a bit difficult haha! i read these all (except 2) on ao3 so the links will be ao3. i know some are here on tumblr but i didn’t realize till after reading and making this! <3

steve harrington

come home by @stevie-petey <3💕

-"come home to me, okay?"

"always," steve promises

in between saving will, then hawkins, then somehow the world, you fall in love with steve harrington.

(a stranger things rewrite).

dancing with our hands tied by @andvys

-You and Steve have never seen eye to eye, and it never changed, not even when you were pulled into a world of monsters and risked your life to save him. But tension had always been between you both, something that neither of you ever wanted to admit -- but how much longer can you take it when the pull between you gets stronger and stronger each second you spend by each others side?

paint me red by eddiemunsons ao3

-You're one of Vickie's best friends. Her girlfriend, Robin, is in need of a distraction for her best friend, Steve Harrington, who you vaguely remember from school. Which is where you come in.

i’m your idiot by thebestandworstdayofjune ao3 @thebestandworstdayofjune

-Steve Harrington has a way of worming himself into your heart, and social situations you had done your best to exclude him from.

small hands, big heart by finalgirlharrington ao3 @sexybabystevie

-Steve Harrington has a massive crush on you, but his recent lack of luck in the romantic sense has him stuck on how to make a move. Plus, something about you makes him nervous in a way he's never been – in a way he likes. His simplest solution? Flirting via the old 'comparing hand sizes' method.

promise by Harley_Honey_Quinn ao3

-Reader learns about Steve's feelings thanks to some Russian truth serum.

kiss me by @corrodedseraphine

-Your friend is desperately trying to find a person who will give him something more. Wanting to feel what it's like to be loved again and after many failed dates he gets the idea that it's time to go back to King Steve's famous tactics. Telling him that it's not the best idea gets you involved in a deal where you have to help him get another girl. Will helping the boy you're in love with turn out to be a good idea? Probably not.

every rose has its thorn by @corrodedseraphine

-Christmas is coming to Hawkins. It is a time of joy and forgiveness. It turns out that your sister's best friend is looking for a new place to live, and you happen to have a spare room in the apartment. It wouldn't be a problem if that friend wasn't Steve Harrington. A man whom the more you try to avoid even more often comes back like a boomerang.

hearts on the telephone line by t_lostinworlds ao3 @t-lostinworlds

-You thought Steve was okay dealing with a long-distance relationship after you moved for an exciting internship in New York. But you were proven so wrong when your boyfriend finally poured his feelings over the phone. Because distance wasn't making his heart grow fonder, it was breaking it.

competitively stupid by t_lostinworlds ao3 @t-lostinworlds

-It was stupid, jumping off a cliff just to prove that you were better than Steve fucking Harrington. But you were competitive. You were not losing to him. But you know what was stupider? For it to take a near-death situation for you both to confess what you truly feel for each other.

perfect blend by Your_Writer ao3

-No one likes their summer job. Working at a coffee shop was sticky, exhausting, and overall boring. In fact, the highlight of your day was the charming, gentle eyed sailor scooping USS Butterscotch just across the way.

the things we don’t say by rdrickheffley ao3

-Steve Harrington once was the bane of Y/n's existence. He had always been an arrogant asshole and a terrible kisser. She never understood how others fell for the boy's eye-roll worthy charm. Now it seems like he will do anything to prove her wrong about anything.

next time? by rdrickheffley ao3

-Three instances where Steve and reader find themselves in intimate situations.

candyfloss and confessions by ACourtofSnakesandStars ao3

-You’ve been in love with Steve Harrington for years, like every cliche come to life. You’ve battled monsters, found friends within kids with superpowers, and you even managed to graduate. Yet the one thing you’ve never been able to do, is tell Steve how you feel. But maybe you don’t need to wait any longer.

a night to remember by RaeWrites94 ao3

-Steve has to attend his 10 year high school reunion and somehow manages to convince you to go as his date and his fake girlfriend. You've had feelings for him for a long time, but figure, why not? You could probably survive an evening of pretending he liked you back and come out unscathed. Right?

with bated breath by brianmay ao3

-Rumors fly after you attend Steve Harrington’s party one weekend in September. Thinking they were his doing, you do everything in your power to avoid him, which proves easier said than done.

cross my heart (and hope to die) by @talesofesther

-Every time Steve gets hurt, you're there to help pick up the pieces; you just weren't expecting him to fall for you in the process.

tales of a love between the lines by @talesofesther

-Sometimes the thing we want most is right in front of us, and Steve might be just that for you; all you have to do is see what he’s been showing you for a long time.

love is easy by seidenbros ao3

-The day you wrote I love you on a post-it note before you'd said the words out loud, and it's the best note Steve ever got.

everything means nothing if i can’t have you by iridescentpetrichor ao3

-Steve and Y/N go on a double date to impress the other one, but it's only so long until the tension between the two breaks.

you’re not by frostandflames ao3 @frostandflamesfanfic

-The year is 1985, you're on a school field trip to cheer on Hawkins High at the championship game before spring break. When the game doesn't pan out as expected, you're even more surprised to discover the one and only Steve Harrington in only his underwear at your hotel room after being locked out by his teammates. What happens when the two of you have a little heart to heart?

last christmas by frostandflames ao3 @frostandflamesfanfic

-You and Steve had always been childhood friends-and remained that way. As Steve ping-pongs around in his relationship status, you have a hard time keeping your feelings to himself as Nancy surrounds his entire world. What Steve doesn't know is his relationship to Nancy may end your own with Steve.

the scoundrel and the princess by @mrshipsmcgee

-after an awkward run in with Tommy Hagan, Steve Harrington is invited to an awful party where he meets a beautiful stranger.

also have a ton under the (steve harrington x reader) on my blog! credit to the maker of the gif from pinterest!

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stvharrngton · 5 months

Note

Alr I got one for u pookie

“That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl/boy.” But it’s reader saying it to Steve 😏😏

ur wish is my command 🫡

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, mutual masturbation, dom!reader, sub!steve

prompt: “that’s it, fuck, that’s a good boy”

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23

requests are open!

Steve watched you through heavy eyes as you removed the thin, lacy black material that covered your heat. He was already naked, from head to toe, as he sat back against the headboard of your bed, propped up by plump pillows.

It was the only item of clothing you removed. The matching bra was still squeezing your tits together, the suspenders and stockings hugging your hips and legs so perfectly.

Steve’s jaw was slack, his mouth dry and his heart beating outside of his chest as he watched you saunter to the end of the bed. He curled his fingers into the sheets either side of him as you crawled towards him, that devilish look in your eye. The one you always coined when you were in the mood to tease, or rather torture, him.

“What do you want, Stevie?” you asked, all sweetly. Twirling a strand of your hair around your finger, “Use your words, honey.”

His brain took a second to respond. Not that he didn’t know what he wanted, fuck, he wanted you in any which way you would give yourself to him but he was so entranced and captivated by your oozing confidence and sexiness that he didn’t know if he was coming or going.

“Y-you,” he stammered out, the tips of his ears going a deep shade of red, his stiff cock twitching with every move you made, “want you to touch yourself, want you to touch me.”

“Yeah?” you breathed out, inching closer to where his cock sat against his stomach, “Do you think you can watch me make myself cum, baby? Without touching yourself?”

“I—, fuck,” he groaned, the mere thought of it, the image of you playing with yourself when Steve isn’t able to do a damn thing about it turned him on, an insane amount at that.

“No?” you teased, your hand wandering south, skimming over your soft stomach, “I might let you cum if you can keep your hands to yourself, Stevie.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded frantically. Hairs flopping across his forehead as he did so. You smirked in response, leaning in to brush your lips over his ever so softly, whispering a ‘good boy’ into his mouth.

Steve didn’t know how he was going to last. His cock was already rock hard, his length leaking precum from the angry red tip. His balls were heavy and ready to be touched, his cock ready to be milked for everything he had. But he was determined, nonetheless. He wouldn’t want to disappoint you, after all.

You took your position at the end of the bed, your legs spread wide, revealing your pussy to Steve. He groaned loudly at the sight, your slick already coating your lips and arousal leaking from your hole. God, he wishes he could taste you right now.

“Hands on your thighs, baby. Where I can see ‘em.” You instructed and Steve did as he was told. Once satisfied you took your index finger and teased your pussy, collecting your juices and spreading it around your cunt, your middle finger joining soon after.

You let a teasing whimper slip as your fingers brushed over your clit and Steve grunted at the sound, his blunt fingernails digging into the meaty flesh of his thighs. You sped up the pace of your fingers, rubbing circles over the sensitive bud as you watched Steve carefully through your lashes.

“Fuck, Stevie,” you mewled, your bottom lip settling between your teeth as you continued to spread your wetness around your pussy, “feels so good, so hot,” you moaned, slipping a finger inside your hole, “but it’s nothing compared to your long, thick fingers.”

You knew it would rile him up. That it would make his task seem even more impossible now. He whined at your words, his hips canting up to try and catch some friction on his cock from the thin air, his cheeks rosy red.

You chuckled at him sympathetically, bringing the finger that had just been inside of you to your lips. You swirled your tongue around the digit, sucking all your juices from it. Steve was itching to touch himself, itching to touch you. He knew he couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

Bringing your fingers back to your pussy, you slipped two inside your cunt now. Doing your best to curl them and scissor them to stretch you out but more importantly, to give Steve one hell of a show.

Steve whined pathetically at the sight, essentially fucking his cock into nothing as he did. “Baby, please,” he groaned, “fuck—, I can’t, ‘m gonna fuckin’ explode.”

“What’s the matter, Stevie?” you cooed, your fingers never letting up as you continued to fuck yourself with them. You couldn’t help but notice how wet his eyes looked, the boy desperately trying to blink away the tears at the corner of his eyes.

“Please, I can’t—,” he stammered, fingers now pulling at his locks in frustration, “need to touch my cock, please baby, I can’t take much more. I’ll be good.”

You contemplated his request for a moment, debating whether he had ‘suffered’ enough. You loved to dominate Steve, to put him in his place. But you could be sympathetic too.

“Go ahead, baby. Stroke that big cock for me.”

Steve wasted no time in lathering his hand in his spit and wrapped his fingers around his hard cock. He started off gentle, soft teasing strokes, like you would do. But the faster your fingers moved inside your pussy, the faster Steve fisted his cock.

He moaned loudly, a pretty little high pitched whine emanating from his soft pink lips. Your cheeks grew hot at the sound, the way Steve looked so fucked out, his hair wild and all over the place, his eyes glassy, it almost had you drooling.

“That’s it, Stevie. Feels good, huh baby?” You praised him, feeling the pressure in your lower stomach build as you rubbed over your clit harshly. And Steve wasn’t far behind.

You both knew it wouldn’t take much for the spurts of sticky white to shoot from his length, you’d been teasing him for too long and he was ready to see stars.

“Gonna cum, Steve,” you moaned, “fuck, want you to watch me cum all over my fingers.

Steve nodded frantically, his fingers squeezing at his cock as he worked himself to the edge. He was panting, his brow sweaty, beads of sweat working their way into the ringlets of his hair. He watched you with a slack jaw as you came. Your back arching as you tried your best not to squeeze your legs together. Your orgasm washed over you as you cried out Steve’s name.

“Oh, fu-uck,” Stevie whined. His eyes traveled down your body, his pupils blown at the sight of your pussy. Dripping wet and a white creamy ring forming at your hole. As you came down from your high, you made quick work of getting Steve to his.

Plunging your fingers into your spent cunt, you collected your juices as you took your place on Steve’s meaty thigh. He was in awe of you, as he most often was, warm brown eyes blinking up at you as he continued to fist his cock.

“Open wide, honey.” You whispered, breathing softly down his neck. You brought your wet fingers to his pretty pink lips, “Want you to suck on my fingers when you cum.”

Steve’s eyes rolled back as his tongue swirled around your digits, feeling the pressure become too much, he squeezed at his cock as ropes of hot cum shot out from the tip, trickling over his hand and stomach.

“That’s it, fuck, that’s a good boy,” you mewled, stroking at his firm chest with your free hand, “I’ve got you, baby, doing so well for me.” The boys eyes scrunched together as he whined around your fingers, his hips rocking up and fucking his cock into his fist.

You removed your fingers from Steve’s mouth, his eyes still closed as he laid back, spent, against the plump pillows. You pressed soft kisses all over his flush face, “Such a good boy.” you cooed.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #k.fic #request #steveshairspray #asks

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folklorefairyy · 11 months

Text

of glasses and grins - s.h

summary - in which steve really needs glasses but has a lifetime of insecurities that has him hiding them. lucky for him, his girlfriend knows just how to make him smile.

warnings - mentions of violence (punches), mentions of bullying (taunts/nicknames from other kids), insecurities, fem!reader, kissing and general relationship touching (nothing sexual), reader sits on steve’s lap

word count - 1.4k

authors note - this is inspired by a request from the lovely vic <3 which you can find here!

i know there’s a lot of headcanons about steve needing glasses due to his head injuries and that inspired his need to wear them more here! i remember seeing this months and months ago so if anyone knows any specific people that was big on that, i’d love to give credit!!

Steve Harrington had taken one too many blows to the head. On the receiving end of fists far too often it’s safe to say his body had felt their toll. His eyesight wasn't the best to begin with, having reading glasses in middle school. After receiving enough ‘geek’ or ‘four-eyes’ jokes he eventually put them to rest in the back of the drawer of his bedside table.

As ‘King Steve’ he ignored his need to squint when chatting in the back of class, or the migraine’s he’d endure, because he’d finally built an image he didn't want to tarnish. His reputation was fragile, and he'd much rather take a physical blow than one to his ego. Until he started getting hit, a lot, and suddenly the incessant migraines became more than a dull ache and the blurinnes was more than a smudge.

You had started dating Steve after highschool, not aware of past comments or cohorts, nor the journey that has led to your boyfriend constantly rubbing his eyes and having a few close calls with rogue tree branches when driving.

It was one movie night, snuggled on the sofa with your legs scrunched onto his lap, his strong arm pressing into your back and thumb smoothing over the exposed skin of your shoulder, that you finally voiced your concerns.

For the past half hour Steve had been watching the movie through one half-closed eye, trying desperately to get it to focus. Everytime you peered up at his face he simply looked down at you and winked, or stuck his tongue out, or did practically any adorably dorky facial expression you could name in order to distract you.

Raising your hand to thumb at his cheek, you whisper a ‘Baby,’ receiving a hum from him as he turns his attention to you. Steve thinks he could hear just about every pet name fall from your lips and never get enough of it; his heart feeling warm at the thought of being your anything.

‘Are your eyes bugging you?’ you prod softly. He shuts them with a sigh, head leaning into your palm which has spread across his cheek. He half-heartedly shakes his head no, more of a tilt than anything. Prompting again you plead, ‘Stevie, please don’t lie to me.’ Your voice is filled with such sweetness he feels guilty for all of his hiding, wondering how he could ever deny the honey in your voice.

‘A little,’ he finally confesses, voice more a whisper of breath than an actual sound. He feels a little silly, keeping his eyes shut to avoid his truth - that his eyes have been bugging him long before you got together. ‘They always hurt to be honest, usually just ignore it.’

His confession tugs at your heart, your sweet boy hiding a pain you can’t magically fix with the kisses and soft words you’d usually resort to.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ you ask feeling slightly wounded, like you’ve failed as a girlfriend for not knowing sooner. You move your thumb back and forth on his cheek, reassuring him you weren’t mad but concerned.

He peers up at you through heavy eyes, lips pulled between teeth in an anxious tell. ‘I knew you’d make me wear my glasses if I told you about them.’

You tut softly and lean to kiss between his brows, ‘Oh honey, what’s wrong with your glasses?’ The revelation shocked you momentarily, the prospect of your boyfriend in glasses a welcome image but an unexpected one.

He looks away from you again, old taunts swimming in his head. ‘I’d look stupid,’ he mutters. ‘You’d find me ugly or weird and wouldn’t want me anymore.’

You could sob at the confession, firstly for the inaccuracy but secondly because you can’t believe he’s been harbouring such insecurities. Moving to grasp his face in both hands you press a kiss to his lips this time, so sweet love itself bloomed between them. ‘Honey, if you need them to see you need them.’ Another meeting of lips to reassure him. ‘Plus I think you’d look handsome in just about any get-up.’ you whispered against his lips, brushing them with a soft smile.

The comment almost pulls Steve’s mouth into a smile of his own, but his past tugs them back down. ‘That’s real sweet baby, but no one else thought so and I wouldn't blame you either.’

At this point your desperation to have Steve rid himself of such thoughts takes over and you don’t think before you’re imbing onto his lap and squishing him to the sofa, face to face, chest to chest, trying very hard to make your point, as though the physical contact would make your opinion replace the one in his brain.

Eyes staring into his, but with an incredible softness that he always elicits, you try your best to convince him otherwise. ‘Firstly, Steve Harrington, glasses are a completely normal thing to have and so many people wear them. Whoever taught you otherwise can go suck it, and I’m sorry they made you uncomfortable wearing them.’

Your sudden brashness and the random full naming of him had his heart feeling a little lighter. You, however, were not done. ‘And secondly, my boyfriend is beautiful, and I know damn straight he is going to look so pretty in his glasses. If the mental images I’m seeing are anywhere near the real deal then I’m in trouble.’ A kiss to the freckles on his nose, your silent sign of ‘I love you.’ ‘I’m gonna have to fight off a lot of people when they get a look at you, trust me.’

At this he lets out a low chuckle, lips finally pulling into that grin you so love, the urge to kiss it only slightly overpowered by your pride in removing some of his sadness.

He leans up slowly and kisses your nose back, the smile still painting his lips as he pulls away. ‘Wow, sweetheart, you really do love me huh? Thinking I’d be wooing everyone and wanting to fight for me?’

Hands smoothing his hair back, you move nose to nose, their tips kissing, and whisper upon his growing grin, ‘Oh handsome, I’d go to war for you.’

At your confession, he pulls your body down to lay on the sofa, arms wrapping around your waist, and presses his weight into you, peppering kisses into your hair and your cheeks, until he finally reaches your lips. You’re both giggling, giddy with love and a connection between you that can't be described but only felt, for it’s uniquely yours.

He looks like an angel above you, hair curtaining his face, the halo of light from the lamp illuminating him in a honeyed glow. Hand returning to his cheek, it’s favourite spot to be, you press another kiss to his lips. ‘Can you please go get your glasses? I want to work out how many people I’ve got to plan on fighting.’

He presses another kiss back, ‘Oh my tough girl, how could I ever leave you unprepared.’ Steve pulls himself off you, not without reluctance and another peck, before running upstairs to venture in the spot of his drawer he always thought he’d leave untouched, trying to wish the taunts away but never quite succeeding.

As he crept back down the stairs that anxiety of being judged bloomed in his chest and he faltered on the last step. But then he spots the back of your head, perched on the sofa so patiently, knee bobbing up and down as your enthusiasm seeped through, and he knows, that you are the one person who could see past the glasses, who would love him regardless, and so he took the final step.

The creaking of the staircase grabs your attention as your eager head whips round so fast Steve swears you’ve given yourself whiplash. The biggest smile blooming on your face at the sight of Steve, a nervous smile on his own, decorated so beautifully with a pair of wide-lensed, silver glasses.

You rush from your seat, too gleeful to wait for him to come to you. Hands to face once again, cocooning it in that warm cage he so loved, you dote a hundred kisses to his cheeks, give or take, before leaning back to whisper softly, ‘Oh my beautiful boy, I am going to have to work on my punches.’

Steve let out a loud laugh, fresh with adoration, and pressed what was not to be the last kiss that evening to your lips. You were just so precious, true sweetness in your intentions. He may have thought he’d never wear them again, but he now thinks he won’t ever take them off, just to see that spark in your eyes reflected in the glass of his once hated frames.

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schoopsahoy · 1 year

Text

i’ve been dying to get you dizzy

steve harrington x roller-rink!reader {5.8k} part 2 to whip it you and steve have been casually dating for a few weeks now, he’s trying to take things slow but then you invite him to stay the night. 18+ mdni steve still being a simp for reader. fluff/smut. no use of y/n. reader uses she/her pronouns.

cw: fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex

The sight of Steve leaning against his car in the parking lot of your work is still one that makes you a little giddy. The pink and gold of the sky cascading down on him in a soft light, reflecting off his skin and dousing him in a warm glow was something straight out of a movie, the boy lit up all golden and auric as he waits for you to finish your shift.

You practically skip over to him, holding onto the strap of your bag to keep it in place on your shoulder as you cross the warm concrete. “Hey, Stevie.” You beam, instantly throwing your arms around his neck when you reach him to pull him in for a hug.

Steve would never admit to anyone that he lets you call him Stevie, let alone that he likes it. The way you say it always coated in affection that warms his chest. “Hey, you. How was work?” His words are muffled into your hair as he hugs you tighter, arms around your waist.

“Looks pretty bad, sweetheart.” He frowns at the injury, hand instinctively moving to yours to run his thumb over the back of it.

“S’pretty sore, but makes me look tough, don’t ya think?” You shrug, a little grin on the corners of your mouth.

“Super tough.” He nods in agreement, mirroring your smile. Every time you two were together, Steve felt like it was a little too good to be true. Everything you said or did seemed so effortless but it still had his mind running crazy, his heart even more so. Ever since you started hanging out, away from your work or the prying eyes of his friends, he had to remind himself that it was all real and you genuinely wanted to see him. He’d made a mental note to take things slow, to not fuck this up or scare you off, but it was harder than it sounded when you were next to him all sugared up smiles and gentle touches.

“I know I said we should go for food tonight but I’m totally spent.” You chew on the inside of your cheek, twisting your body from side to side a little and making the hem of your skirt shift higher against your thighs. “D’you want to just get a take out? You can stay over too, if you want? Save you driving back in the dark.”

Steve feels like he’s been shocked, his entire body buzzing with something - excitement, maybe? Or nerves, or a mix of the two most likely. “Sure we can, whatever you want.” He hopes you don’t notice how hard he had to focus to force the words out, praying they came out casual and not in a croak of nerves.

“You’re the best, Stevie.” You go on your tip-toes to kiss him again, tasting like bubblegum and cherries and sweets and all the other sugary things you should have in moderation, something Steve doesn’t think he can manage with you. “And you’ll stay?” Your eyes are big and bright as you look up at him through your lashes, a hopeful smile on your face that he knows he has no chance of turning down.

“As long as you want me to.” He gives your hand a light squeeze.

“Of course I do, silly, S’why I offered.” You squeeze his hand back before letting go to finally make your way to the passenger side, Steve making sure he gets there first so he can open the door for you. It’s the sweet little gestures that have your heart beating faster, simple acts of devotion that seem so insignificant from the outside but are really unspoken words of so much more.

It’s not a long drive to your place from the rink, only about 15 minutes if you get lucky with traffic. Steve’s hand finds its place on your thigh for most of the journey, his touch barely there but still comforting. You occasionally trace along his fingers, or around its outline on your skin, just mindless touches whilst you listen to him talk about his day. You think you could just sit and watch him forever, have him talk about anything and you’d listen.

You direct Steve around the streets of your hometown, he’d picked you up from work a few times now but you usually spent your time together in Hawkin’s. Your apartment is along Main Street, a little one bed that sits above a flower shop. It’s not much, but you’d been determined to move out and be independent whilst you’re in college so you’re content with the small space you got to call your own.

“There’s a little lot around the back of the shops you can park in, just turn down here.” You lean forward in your seat to point to the small side road, Steve nodding and following your instructions to lead you both into the car park.

Steve pulls into the spot you point out, the one closest to the metal steps that lead up to your door. Now he’s here, in front of your place where he’s agreed to spend the night, his breathing gets a little quicker. He tries to keep it quiet, not wanting you to notice that he’s slightly freaking out.

“C’mon handsome, the takeout won’t order itself.” You grin at him, your house keys dangling on your pointer finger along with a collection of keyrings that all jangle together and glisten in the evening sun. You open the passenger door and step out the car, standing at the bottom of the staircase whilst Steve locks his car.

Steve takes a moment whilst locking up to try and chill himself out, a few deep breaths and words of encouragement muttered to himself. Though he’s not too sure “get it together” counts as encouragement, either way he needs to hear it.

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit messy, I would’ve tidied up more if I knew I’d have company.” You look back to Steve as you climb the stairs, the old metal clanking with each step til you reach the top.

“You don’t have to apologise.” Steve shakes his head at you, you could open the door to a bomb site and he wouldn’t mind as long as he’s with you.

You have to fiddle with the lock a little to get it open, the door’s pretty old and probably rusted so the key needs to be twisted and lifted at an angle to get it to work. You get it after a few tries though, and push the door open to let yourself and Steve in.

“Ta-da.” You sing as you hold the door open for Steve, letting him step into your living room before closing it behind him.

The flat is small, but you‘ve filled it with fresh flowers and cosy furnishings to brighten it up. Candles dotted around the room on whatever surface they can fit on, next to little ceramic and glass trinkets and photos of you and your friends. It feels like home, a space you’ve cultivated as your own that nobody can take away from you.

Steve thinks it’s perfect, really, because he can tell it’s yours. The flowers and vanilla candles mix together so the room smells sweet, and everything looks soft and inviting. Your college books strewn across the coffee table, plush blankets hung over the arm of the couch, it was all another insight into your world that he was so desperate to be a part of.

“I can’t believe you think this is messy.” He chuckles, looking around the room again to take in all the little details.

“Wait til you see my bedroom, then you’ll change your tune.” You shrug your bag off your shoulder and onto the floor near the door, toeing your shoes off so you’re just left with your knee high socks on your feet.

Steve can’t even bring himself to think about seeing your bedroom, that idea pushed so far back into the corner of his mind so he can remain functional. “I bet it’s fine, you’re just dramatic.” He teases, trying to play off the fact he’s still in awe about being in your home.

“That’s true, I am.” You smile at him, no offense taken from his words because you can see the soft smile on his lips and the doting tone that always seems to be there when he speaks. “So, what d’you want? Pizza? Or there’s a Chinese not far that’s pretty good?” You pad across the room to the kitchen, the open plan layout meaning you can still see Steve as you root through one of the cupboards for menus. You hold them up when you find them, waving them in the air before you move back and hand them to him.

“You don’t wanna pick? You’re the one who’s been working all day.” He strokes the back of your hair gently with his free hand, you instantly leaning back into his touch.

You shake your head at his offer. “You’re the guest, you pick.”

Steve sighs a little, all sweetness at your offer. “Pizza sounds good. You happy with that?”

“Mhm, pick what you want and I’ll call ‘em.” You tap your nails against the menu in his hand, the vibrations running up his arm and making his hairs stand up.

It takes you both a little while to settle on an order, going back and forth about what you both want and finding a middle ground. You keep trying to tell Steve to choose what he wants and you’ll work around that, but Steve was far more concerned about you getting what you wanted. It was a lot of talking in circles til you both eventually settled.

Steve insists on paying when it arrives, too, despite your best efforts to at least go halves.

“Just take the money, Steve.” You hold the dollars out to him, trying to tuck them into his pocket when he shakes his head at you.

“Stop, stop.” Steve laughs, trying to dodge your hands whilst holding onto the pizza box. “If this falls we’ll have to do that all over again.”

You furrow your brow a little, pouting up at the boy. “Fine, but I’m getting it next time.” You flop yourself down on the couch with a dramatic sigh, shuffling your college textbooks to one side on the coffee table so the pizza box can fit. “Oh, wait, d’you want plates?” You go to stand up again but Steve shakes his head at you.

“I’ll get ‘em, where are they?” He sets the food down and walks into the kitchen.

“Cupboard above the sink.” You call through, watching him pull a couple of plates out and bring them back to you. “You’d make a great housewife.” You grin, taking one of them off him.

“I know, thinking of changing careers.” Steve sits himself down next to you, his leg pressed against yours so you can feel the rough denim on your skin.

“You’d look great in a frilly apron.” You lean forward to open the box, pulling out a slice of pizza for yourself and putting it on your plate.

“Yeah, you think?” Steve grins at you and helps himself to a slice.

“Mhm, real handsome.” You kiss him on the cheek before taking a bite of your food. “And I could be the breadwinner.”

“Oh I’m gonna be your housewife?”

“Obviously, I get first dibs.”

Steve smiles at you, all fondness and it makes your chest feel a little tight with how much you like it. “Yeah, you do.”

You end up watching a movie after your food, letting Steve root through the small pile of tapes that sit next to your tv set. They’re pretty old, most picked up in flea markets or taken from your family home. Most of them are horror films which makes Steve laugh, you feel like the personification of sunshine but your taste in movies is the complete opposite of that.

“You got anything lighthearted?” He turns his head to look at you from where he’s sat on the floor, you still sat on your couch with a blanket thrown over your lap.

“I’ve got Grease.”

“So the options are scary movies or Grease?”

“Withhold your judgment, Harrington.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest in fake upset.

“Oh I’m sorry, don’t surname me.” He pouts back at you, which makes you giggle and ruins your facade.

“Pick a film.” You wiggle your finger at the pile of tapes, Steve turning back to them again and eventually settling on Salem’s Lot.

“You gotta hit the player a little, to get it to work.” You instruct Steve, who taps the player a few times before it springs to life and starts whirring.

He settles back down next to you, and you instantly lean your head on his shoulder. He can smell your fruity shampoo as soon as you lay it there, and leans his own head against yours. It’s comfortable, like your head was supposed to fit there in the crook of his neck.

He tries his best to focus on the screen, but whenever you’re close to him it’s like all his senses are in overdrive and his heart is beating a million miles a minute. He hopes you can’t feel it, a dead giveaway to how you make him feel, how much he really likes you.

It only gets worse when you start placing gentle kisses against his neck, your hand laced in his and he’s so aware of every minute movement you make. Every small inhale, the fan of your eyelashes as you blink. He thinks he might be losing it a little.

You kiss up his neck and up to his cheek, eventually nudging your nose against it so he turns his face to you. You both look at each other for a moment, eyes studying the others face and lips until he eventually leans in to kiss you.

It’s a little reserved, gentle and careful like there’s still some boundary yet to be crossed. Steve’s hand cups your face, fingers lacing into your hair as he holds you close to him.

You press against him a little harder, lips parting slightly so he can slip his tongue into your mouth and you let out a sweet sigh from the feeling. Your arms are around his shoulders so your fingers can run through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Steve can feel himself getting lost in it all, how soft you are and how sweet you taste, and when you shuffle so you’re sitting in his lap he’s certain he’s absolutely gone. His hands move to your waist, but he barely grips you, his touch soft and hovering over your body.

You pull away a little, keeping your face close to Steve’s so your lips still brush together when you speak. “Y’know you can touch me, Stevie? I’m not gonna break.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, all sweet and a little teasing.

Steve smiles at you, closing his eyes for a moment. “I know, I just, uh,” he lets out a small sigh, nose nudging against your own, “you make me kinda nervous.”

You sit back a little now, still close and your fingers still combing through his hair. “What, why?” Your brows furrow slightly as you look at him with gentle concern. “Y’know I really like you, right?”

“I know, but you’re so pretty and smart and like, so out of my league.” He chuckles to try and cover the fact he’s actually wearing his heart on his sleeve, the confession making him feel like he could pass out or combust at any second.

You just shake your head at him, lips curled up into a smile that makes him want to melt. “What’ve I gotta do to prove it to you? Put it on a big sign?” You place soft kisses up and along his throat, breaking them up with your words. “Or I could make a t-shirt?” You move your kisses up to his face so you can look at him again, eyes bright with tenderness for the boy in front of you.

“The t-shirt sounds good.” Steve can feel his skin heat up wherever you place your kisses, your sweet words and soft touches driving him a little crazy.

You giggle, moving one hand to cup his jaw. “Yeah? I can do that.” You press your lips against his, softly and just for a second. “I wanna be your girl, Steve Harrington. You gonna let me?”

Steve’s not sure he’ll ever get used to your confidence, not that he minds it. But he can’t deny it makes his heart flip whenever you say stuff like this, so assured in what you want, especially when it’s him. “Yeah, yeah, I am.” He exhales, finally bringing his lips back to yours.

He kisses you with more confidence now, like whatever line you’ve been toeing has been crossed and he’s finally letting himself relax into you. His hands hold your waist properly, pulling your body closer to his so you can feel his chest move with each breath.

You tilt your head so you can deepen the kiss, Steve’s tongue licking into your mouth as he squeezes your side and it’s enough for you to sigh out a small moan. The sound only makes Steve kiss you harder, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip and making your brain go sort of fuzzy.

When his lips make their way along your jaw, trailing down the column of your neck and onto that sensitive spot near your collarbone your breath hitches in your throat. You think Steve must feel it stuck there, because it’s almost like you can feel him smirk against your skin as he nips at the same spot before soothing over it with his tongue.

His hands roam to your thighs, skirt pulled up a little too high to be decent from you straddling him and you don’t even mind the pain that comes from when his hand passes over your bruise. “Jesus, Steve.” You almost whine, his lips still attached to that same spot and leaving a pretty purple mark there.

Steve groans against your skin when you say his name, the way you say it has his mind moving a hundred miles a minute. “Y’so pretty, y’know that?” His words are a bit muffled against your skin, though he briefly pulls away so he can look you in the eyes. “So perfect, drives me crazy.”

When one of his hands slips towards the inside of your thighs you have to blink a few times to try and keep yourself calm, the sensation so intense even with his gentle touch. It makes you rock your hips towards him, you don’t even mean to do it but the feeling of his denim dragging along your bare skin only sends you more into a haze. Your fingers press into his shoulders, little half moon indents pressing into the fabric of his shirt where you’re trying to ground yourself.

It feels like an eternity of his hands wandering, fingers ghosting closer to your core only to move away again before Steve finally asks if he can touch you, big brown eyes blinking down at you as you nod your head, forcing out a small “yes”, your voice a little raspy from trying to control your breathing.

Steve still feels like this might all be a dream, a fantasy taking place solely in his head, when he finally runs fingers along the hemline of your panties. You’re already warm, your soft skin radiating heat onto him and driving him wild. He moves his hand away for a second, just so he can shift your bodies around and lay you back on the couch. One hand next to your head, propping himself over you so he can see your face, and the other back to teasing you.

You know you’re already wet, can feel it there between your thighs as Steve trails a finger up and down over your panties eventually relenting and pulling them to the side. You don’t think the room is cold, but the air hitting your exposed cunt is enough to make you shiver a little.

He slides two of his fingers down into your slick, the light pressure on your already sensitive clit enough to make your body jolt and a small gasp falls from your lips.

“God, y’so wet already baby.” He muses, a smile curled onto the corners of his lips as he watches your face scrunch a little with each of his movements. His fingers rub circles around your clit, slow steady movements that have your eyes fluttering closed.

“Feels so good, Stevie.” Your voice is even sweeter than usual, all breathy and a little out of it and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever get over it.

All your nerves feel like they’re on fire, every inch of your body charged with some sort of electricity as Steve keeps touching you. When he finally slips one finger inside of you, his thumb still pressing onto your clit, you’re pretty sure you can see stars. He’s gentle with you, moving in and out of you slowly and always keeping an eye on your face to make sure you’re alright, only adding a second finger once he can feel you’re ready.

His fingers curl up to hit that sweet spot inside of you, the slow drag of them in and out mixed with the lazy movements against your cliensending your head dizzy. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, nails dragging along the top of his back as your heartbeat quickens and the coil inside your stomach tightens.

“Steve.” You whine, incapable of getting any other words out, your brain turned to mush from his touch.

“Y’close?” He breathes, blown pupils staring down into your own with such intensity and desire that it only pushes you closer to the edge.

“Mhm.” You hum, all you can manage as he speeds up his movements. His fingers are pumping into you a little faster now, still careful and considerate and always hitting the right spot and you can feel your body temperature rising.

“Can feel it, feels so good.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, then onto your cheek. “Y’gonna let go for me? Wanna feel you come so bad, sweetheart.” He knows he’s running his mouth, mind all fogged up from how good you feel and how much he wants you that he can’t help but let the words tumble out.

It doesn’t take much more for that coil in your stomach to snap, Steve’s words coaxing you through your high as you squeeze your eyes shut and moan out his name. Your nails dig harder into his shoulders, the blinding white of your orgasm leaving you out of it and the feel of him underneath your fingers the only thing helping to ground you.

You whine when Steve finally slides his fingers out of you, the sudden emptiness pulling the sound from your mouth. You bring your head up from where it was lay on the couch, lips meeting his where he’s still hovering over you.

“You alright?” Steve presses his forehead against yours, the breath of his words fanning against your lips.

“Yeah, Stevie.” You give him a sweet smile, mascara a little smudged under your eyes and still looking a little out of it. “C’mon.” You press a hand to his chest and give him a gentle push, just enough so you can sit yourself up. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Hearing the words come from your mouth makes Steve’s brain short circuit a little bit, just following your lead as you shuffle up and off the couch and offer him a hand to lead him to your bedroom. You turn to face him as you walk backwards into the room, knocking the light on with your other hand and coating the room in a buttery light. Your lips are little puffy from where he’d kissed, your hair mussed from the couch, and Steve thinks you’re the most perfect girl he’s ever seen.

Then you’re back on each other again, like some invisible rope is tied around you both and is being pulled tighter til you collide. The kiss is a little messy, too eager to touch each other that it’s all tongue and teeth as your hands both try to pry the others shirt off without having to pull away for too long.

Your clothes are strewn across the room, cascaded to the floor carelessly as your hands can finally roam skin on skin. Your palms on Steve’s chest guide him towards your bed, the back of his knees hitting the mattress.

He sits on the edge of the bed, hands splayed across your now bare waist and you stood between his legs, gazing down at him with big eyes full of something sticky sweet and sultry. He brings his mouth to your tits, kissing the skin and sucking softly to draw out more sweet sounds from you.

“S’my turn. To make you feel good.” You have to force the words out, your breath hitching in your chest each time Steve nibbles on your skin. Your hand reaches down to run over Steve’s crotch. You can feel how much he’s already straining against the denim jeans as you go to fiddle with the button, movements slow and teasing and already enough to make him groan against your soft skin.

“Baby.” Steve grips you a little tighter, pads of his fingers pressing into you. You just look at him, a picture of innocence as you continue your deliberate movements, zipper pulled down at an agonizing pace. “Babybabybaby.” He genuinely thinks his heart might stop with how hard it’s pounding against his ribs.

When you finally un-do the zipper and start palming at his cock through his boxers, Steve tips his head back with a low moan, the pleasure already overwhelming. You use your other hand to caress his cheek, your touch gentle and comforting to counteract how much you’re driving him absolutely crazy.

You dip your hand into his boxers, sufficient teasing done, and finally move his boxers down enough so you can pull his cock out. You try not to react when you realize just how big he is, though a small sound escapes your mouth as you start to pump your hand around the base of his shaft.

When you crouch down in the space between Steve’s legs and run your tongue up his shaft, tip already leaking from the way your hands pumping him, he thinks he might be done for. You look up at him through your lashes, doe eyed and mouth just barely touching him, placing gentle kisses on his member as one of his hands entangles itself in your hair.

“Fucking hell.” He moans, your eyes closing over as you take as much of him as you can in your mouth, hand continuing its motions at the base that you can’t quite fit.

You can feel the tip of him pressing against the back of your throat, and you have to focus on your breathing to try and stop yourself choking up around him. His fingers tighten their hold on your hair as you speed up your movements, tugging a little each time you hear him sigh or moan.

“I-I’m not gonna last.” He chokes out, trying to guide your head up so he can look at you properly. You move your mouth off him, lips slick with saliva and eyes blown as you look at him. “I wanna fuck you, don’t wanna cum yet.” His words are still breathy even now you’ve stopped touching him, his mind still catching up to everything that’s happening.

“Yeah?” You ask, voice a little teasing which only makes Steve want you more. You stand up so you can wiggle out of your skirt, letting it fall to the ground below you and leaving you only in your panties. Your fingers tug at the waistband of his jeans, a silent instruction for him to follow suit. He shuffles in his spot, tugging the trousers down his legs and onto the floor. “Sit back.” You nudge your head towards the headboard of your bed, and Steve doesn’t even try to argue as he moves himself to lean against your pillows.

You kneel over him, hands pulling at his boxers as you help to guide them off before doing the same with your panties. You straddle him again, cock pushing against your clit as you kiss him and rock your hips.

Your lips move down his neck, still a little wet and puffed up. Steve’s hands are resting on your thighs, head tilted to the side so you can continue your trail of kisses down towards his collarbone. “I, uh, don’t have a condom.” Steve murmurs, using probably the last bit of sanity he has to force the words out.

“I’m on the pill.” Your words are pressed into his skin, and you can feel him groan underneath you as you speak. “If you’re okay with that.”

“Yeah, fuck, I’m okay with it.”

Steve helps you line yourself up on top of him, a small hiss coming through your teeth as you lower down onto him and feel the stretch. You have to move slowly, each time you press yourself down a little further and feel him fill you up a little more. It takes you a couple minutes til you’re sat on him fully, breathing already a little heavy as you rest your head on his shoulder.

Steve presses kisses onto your forehead, hands steady on your hips as you sit for a moment. He can feel how tight you are around him, cock twitching inside you just from the thought of you moving. “You okay?” His voice is soothing, gentle and full of care as his thumb strokes circles into your skin.

“Yeah, m’okay.” Your voice is quiet, but you eventually start to rock your hips against him once you’ve adjusted to his size. You can feel his tip nudging that soft squidgy spot with each movement and it has you moaning into his neck as your forehead stays steady in the crook of his neck.

You get a little more confident with it, properly lifting yourself up now so you can feel the full length of his shaft moving in and out of you. You lift your head up so you can look at Steve, mouth hung open a little from being so blissed out.

“Feel s’good, so full.” Steve’s hands help guide you as you bounce on top of him, your clit bumping against the base of his shaft each time brings you down again and it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“God. Wanted this so bad. Want you so bad. Want you to be my girl.” He starts pistoning his hips up into you now, following your rhythm and hitting even deeper inside you which has you whining.

“I am your girl, Stevie.” You bite your lip as Steve thrusts up into you, barely muffling the sound of your moans as you keen at his thrusts.

“Oh fuck.” He tips his head back, eyes closing as his thrusts start getting a little sloppy. You can tell he’s close, trying your best to hold onto the pace he’s set to bring him to the edge.

“Y’gonna cum for me, baby?” You muse, voice sugar coated despite the words and it has Steve’s head spinning. He brings a hand down between you, fingers finding your clit so he can rub circles in it as you both near the edge.

It’s a little messy, still learning each other's bodies and the way you move with each touch, but you can feel yourself tiptoeing along that ledge again. Steve must feel it too, the way you clench impossibly tighter around him, because he starts picking up the pace with his thrusts again.

It doesn’t take long for you to both tumble over the edge, Steve breathing out your name over and over as he brings his forehead to yours and helps you steady yourself as you come down from your high. You’re not quite ready to move yet, still too sensitive to deal with the feeling of him pulling out.

He’s peppering sweet kisses along your cheek through his deep breathing, both your chests rising and falling as you try to bring yourselves back to reality. When he finally pulls out you whine a little, the loss of him inside you has you feeling empty and the over stimulation is close to electric.

Steve lifts you off him, placing you gently on the bed so he can go to the bathroom to get something to clean the pair of you up with. He’s so soft with you, all affectionate and doting like you’re the most precious thing in the world, he thinks you might be.

“Steve?” You sit yourself up on the bed as he pulls his boxers on, your cheeks flushed pink and lip pulled between your bottom teeth.

“Yeah?”

“This mean I’m actually your girl now?” You grin at him, and you’re asking a question you already know the answer to really. But you want to hear him say it, purely for selfish reasons.

“Fuck, yeah, you’re my girl.” He leans over and kisses your forehead, and the way you look up at him has him thinking that you might always send his head a little dizzy. But he definitely doesn’t mind.

thank u so much for reading ! plz reblog if u enjoyed and message me if u have any requests/wanna gush over steve lol <333

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut

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megxplryxb · 1 year

Text

Dating Steve Harrington would include:

Because honestly, who wouldn't want to date Steve?

Knowing Steve since you were little kids and being best friends ever since

You being totally oblivious to the fact that Steve liked you because you were convinced he was still in love with Nancy

Steve crushing on you for months but being afraid to tell you because he was sure you didn’t feel the same way even though you’ve loved him since, forever

Dropping little hints that he was crazy about you but you never catching on, always thinking he was talking about some new girl he’d met while at work

Getting jealous when he’d talk to Nancy because you hated how she broke his heart

Robin and Dustin trying to help him tell you how he felt but Steve would chicken out every time “No, I can’t tell her! If she doesn’t feel the same way, it’ll ruin our friendship and I can’t lose her.”

Your love for each other being blatantly obvious to EVERYONE

Steve always protecting you before everyone else even though he knew you could handle yourself

Steve finally telling you that he loved you when he was drugged by the Russians but you laughed it off thinking he didn’t know what he was saying. “Stevie, you’re very high right now.”

Him pulling you aside to tell you again before the showdown with Vecna while everyone was preparing for battle. “I meant what I said y’know, back at the mall…when you thought I was too drugged to know what I was saying…I’ve wanted to tell you for so long and I need to tell you now in case we don’t make it out this time and you can’t blame it on drugs.” He spoke softly as you put a hand over his mouth, smiling at him with tears in your eyes. “We’re going to make it out and when all of this is over you can tell me, okay?” You whispered cupping his face as he nodded. “I do, though. I always have.” Steve swallowed as you tried to hold back the tears from falling down your cheeks. “I do too.” You confessed finally sharing your first proper kiss

Nursing him back to health after defeating Vecna and becoming an official couple “Can we live happily ever after now?” Steve asked lying in his bed beside you before making love to you for the first time

Steve constantly touching you now that you’re his, it’s his love language after all

Your parents not being a bit surprised about your relationship because they were sure you were together anyway. “Haven’t you always been with him?” Your Dad asked confused as to why you were telling him now.

Borrowing his sweaters and forgetting to give them back for weeks at a time but Steve doesn’t mind because they always come back smelling like you and he loves the way you smell

Practically living in Steve’s house with him while his parents are out of town because he hates being alone. It’s not something that used to bother him but now that he’s with you, he doesn’t ever want to be without you. “Missed you today, honey.” He’d whisper in your ear, wrapping his arms tightly around you as you let out a soft laugh. “Steve, it’s only been a few hours.” “Yeah, a few hours too long.” He’d reply before kissing you

Having the whole gang over for movie nights, pool parties and sleepovers so Steve’s house doesn’t always feel so empty and you want him to have good memories there too

Teaching him how to cook because you’re tired of him constantly buying take out and shitty microwave meals when you aren’t around. Steve thinks it’s stupid at first but when you reveal there’s nothing sexier than a man who can cook, he rips off his shirt and throws on his apron, ready to make a mess in the kitchen, in more ways than one – “I might need a few lessons on how to cook, baby, but I’m a pro at dessert.” Steve would flirt trying to pull you closer as you’d wave your finger at him. “Dessert comes after “baby”.”

Running your fingers through his hair after a long day at work when you’re both lying on his couch watching a movie. “mmm sweetheart, that feels so good, could stay like this forever.”

Leaving your hair ties around his gear shift to annoy him but Steve secretly loves that you leave them there, just reminding everyone that you’re his and also because they’re useful when you decide to suck Steve off in his car when the drive in movie he takes you to is boring

Steve always looking up the local newspaper for affordable apartments so you can live together away from his parents house

Holding hands while he drives

Always telling you you're prettier than the actresses in the movies you watch while the gang gags at his cheesiness

Steve spending the holidays with your family and finally realising how much fun they could actually be

Bringing him and Robin lunch in Family Video

Steve picking you up from work on his days off “Hi honey, how was your day?”

Night swimming in his pool and feeling his fingers untying your bikini strings

Going on drives to nowhere just to see where you end up

Getting him to sing to you because it’s his secret talent and it really turns you on

Going on cheap dates because you hate fancy restaurants and prefer pizza

Dancing with you in his kitchen

Coming home drunk from a party and talking until the break of dawn

Steve whispering to you about his hopes for your future together when you have a bad dream and can’t sleep

Playing twister on date night but it always leads to sex

El and Max asking you for advice on relationships because you and Steve never break up unlike Nancy and Jonathan

Leaving Hickeys on Steve’s neck before he goes to work to annoy him

Steve leaving you notes when he leaves early but doesn’t want to wake you “Morning baby, how about dinner tonight at Enzo’s? Or we can just order a pizza and make out at skull rock, your choice - Love you x

Teasing Steve in public because you know how frustrated he gets

Sitting on his lap, whispering sweet nothings in his ear when he isn’t giving you attention at a party and you get a little too horny because he looks so good

Him never being able to say no to you

Steve always being willing to try new things in the bedroom with you “Baby I got this book today, you have to check it out, the positions are crazy!”

Lying on his chest while he tells you about his day

Giving you the last of his popcorn when you go to the movies because he knows the little pieces are your favourite

Steve loves how excited you get for every holiday, especially Halloween and Christmas.

He teases you for crying at the happy ending of movies but he thinks its the cutest thing ever

Giving Eddie advice on romance because now that he's found you, he wants his friend to be happy too

Always beating Steve at bowling, not because he lets you, just because he sucks at it. “Oh yeah? Maybe next time I’ll take you to the basketball court and see how you like losing, huh hotshot?” He’d joke wrapping an arm around you, kissing your cheek as you return your bowling shoes to the counter

Being the only other person allowed to drive his car, a privilege you’re extremely proud of. “I can’t believe you’re actually letting me drive this.” You squeal as Steve tosses you the keys, walking towards the passenger door. “Baby, if you drive the car as good as you fuck in it, we really won’t have a problem.” Steve teases as you slide in to the driver seat confidently.

Having stupid fights and Steve always apologising first because he hates it when you’re mad at him (not that you can stay mad for too long)

The hot make up sex you have after

Running you baths and lighting candles

Sneaking off from parties to find a bathroom you can make out in

Taking Steve to lingerie shops so he can help you pick out something sexy “Baby, I think you should get these, pink is totally your colour” “Oh I love lace!” “Crotchless panties, why would….Oooooh, they’re going in the basket.”

Steve being a professional pussy eater – the man just loves to watch you squirm underneath him and he could stay there for hours

Gathering his own little collection of sex toys to use on you because watching you cum is his favourite hobby

Never letting you shower alone because Steve wants to spend time with your boobies, he literally talks to them while you rinse out your hair

Wearing his old jerseys because seeing his last name draped across your back, drives him insane.

He knows he’ll make you Mrs Harrington eventually, he already has the ring picked out

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #king steve #steve the hair harrington #joe keery #steve stranger things #stranger things smut #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington fic

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plainemmanem · 2 years

Note

Can you do a Steve Harrington request about to kiss trope with the dialogue “you’re staring” “so are you”?

stevie in his silly little family video vest with his silly little name-tag, answering his silly little calls with his silly little customer service voice <3

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

You’re so fucking pretty.

It hurts, honestly. When Steve’s eyes trail over to you at work.

It’s painful.

You’re not even doing anything. You’re literally restocking the shelves and you look so fucking beautiful it hurts.

Light streams in from the front window, illuminating your skin. The beauty marks and imperfections up your arms, your wrists, your collarbones.

It takes everything in him not to reach out and feel your warmth every shift.

The front door opens with a ding, indicating a customer, but Steve can’t tear his eyes away from you. The door closes, letting in a gust of wind and ruffling the soft ends of your hair, shooting a shiver up your spine. His hand clenched the mouse a bit tighter upon seeing the slight goosebumps traveling up your arm.

He tears his eyes away for a brief moment to keep up appearances, glancing at the computer screen. His eyes are back on you a second later, his teeth nibbling at his bottom lip as he watches you scratch at an old sticker on one of the tapes absentmindedly.

Your uniform is a little tattered, your shirt hangs off one of your shoulders and a bit of your bra strap peaks out at him. A hand comes up to readjust your neckline as you crouch down to start on the tapes on the bottom shelf.

Old, scuffed sneakers adorn your feet, and Steve nearly loses his mind when he notices the socks you have on. They have a ruffled edge, hugging your ankle, and little hearts peak up over your shoe as you kneel down.

His eyes were back on the computer screen again, not even reading the words, just scanning his eyes across letters and hoping that his staring isn’t too obvious. He’s been harboring a crush ever since you started.

When Robin had mentioned a few weeks ago that one of her friends would be applying, Steve’s curiosity was peaked, and it was all downhill from there.

“What’s she like?” He leaned onto the counter right next to her suggestively, one arm holding him up and the other resting on his hip. A brow quirked up.

As she scribbled in 4-down, she glanced up at him. She caught his overly-interested gaze, immediately slamming her puzzle book closed.

"No! No, Steve, don't even give me that look," she scolded, a warning hand held up in his direction as she walked away from the counter and towards the back room.

Steve's face dropped to pure confusion.

"What?" he shouted at her retreating form. "What look?"

Robin spun abruptly, shooting him a stern look and an accusatory finger.

"That look you get anytime I mention anyone I know who's a girl." She was stalking back over to him now, angrily. "You get this, this... King Steve look all over your face and I will not be indulging you this time-"

She spun again, heading to the back room with much more purpose than before. Steve quickly followed after her.

"'King Steve look? Wh-"

Robin continued her previous rant, cutting him off over her shoulder.

“I am not letting you get your grubby little guy hands all over her. I actually like this girl; she's cool and funny, and way outta your league might I add-"

"Thanks-"

Robin swings the back door open, dropping it in Steve's face. He catches it with his palm, mouth pressing into an annoyed line.

"And I don't want our friendship to be ruined because you... tainted her."

She stalked towards the cart full of returns and white-knuckled the handle bar, once again shooting Steve a warning look.

"C'mon now, 'tainted' seems a little harsh-"

"And she could possibly be coming to work here, and I just don't wanna ruin the one good girl friendship I have right now."

She was still clearly annoyed, but her face fell a little in defeat, well aware of Steve's track record with the other girls Robin's introduced him to.

Ever since Nancy, Steve's been a bit of a player. A bad one, but a player none the less. The most recent girl was Louise — Robin's lab partner. Robin hasn't talked to Louise in a while, not after Steve's disastrous date with her last Friday. Chemistry has been particularly awkward.

Steve's face fell at Robin's concern. He really did feel bad about Louise, and all the other girls Robin's had to cut ties with because of him.

"Right..." Steve stuffed his hands into his jeans, sneaker scuffing the grimy carpet beneath his feet. "Yeah, right, I'm sorry." He looked up at her seriously, hoping to get across his sincerity without too many words.

"It's alright, Steve. I... I know things have been kinda weird for you."

Nancy. Everything led back to Nancy, and Steve was sick of it.

He took a tentative step towards her, arm coming out to grab onto her elbow, fixing her with a serious gaze.

"No funny business from me, alright? Nothing more than a handshake, I swear."

She gave him a half-hopeful, half-skeptical look, before letting out a breath.

"Promise?" she questioned, sticking her pinky up to him.

He latched his pinky with hers, squeezing just a tad.

"Promise."

Turns out, that promise would grow painfully difficult to keep.

——————————————————————————

You'd only been working at Family Video for about two weeks, and already Steve was a lovesick puppy around you. Of course, he always denied it, but it seemed to be obvious to just about everyone just how helpless he was for you.

Always offering you rides to work, even though you lived twenty minutes out of his way. Hiding any mistakes you make from Keith, even if it means staying an hour late to rearrange the horror section. Hell, he'd give you the shirt off his back if you asked.

But, today had been particularly challenging. It was just you, Robin, and Steve.

"Why don't you take a picture?" Robin huffs, dropping a stack of tapes on the counter next to the computer. Steve’s eyesquickly snap from you to the exasperated girl beside him. "It'll last longer." She mutters to him, turning around to peak over at you.

Steve's cheeks felt hot, but he tried to play it cool, eyes now locked with the computer screen.

"I dunno what you mean." His attempt to sound causal comes out a little stilted and he winced a little to himself.

"Oh, please," she grunts as she hops up on the counter. "You moon after her just about every time you see her. I'm surprised she hasn't quit yet."

A nervous chill runs up his spine and his blood runs cold, both at the idea of you quitting and the idea that you possibly know of his little crush. Sure, you’ve dropped a few sneaky hints — little remarks here and there that you may mirror his affections — but Steve was always too afraid to get his hopes up.

In his peripheral, Steve watches you gather up the rest of the tapes, now making your way towards the counter. He begins running through some lines in his head. How's it going? Too basic. How's restockin'? Too dorky. Have I mentioned I might be in love with you—

"Hey, guys." Your chipper tone rings out as you head behind the counter, your stack of tapes wobbling.

Steve drops the mouse immediately at your voice and turns to look at you — trying extremely hard to appear casual — when he spots the tapes slowly shifting in your arms. He rushes over, grabbing the stack and righting them for you, peeking around to give you a sheepish look.

"Heh, thanks." You shoot him a shy, grateful look as he takes the top half of the stack. "You'd think after working here for two weeks now, I'd get the hang of the whole restocking thing." You laugh nervously and set your half of the tapes on the counter next to Robin, shooting her an embarrassed grimace.

"Oh, don't worry. Stevie, here, has been working here for months now and he still has yet to learn how to hang a window display."

Steve shoots Robin a warning look from behind your back, but his anger drops upon hearing a small giggle leave your lips. You spin back around to face him with a warm smile, arms crossing over your chest smugly.

"That's funny, cause just the other day, our boy Steve said it was you who couldn’t figure it out."

A shocked gasp comes from Robin and you can hear her feet hit the ground as she hops off the counter, then her stomping towards the guilty-looking boy.

"Steve!" She hit him in the shoulder.

"Oow!" He said it almost like a question, like a “What was that for?"

"You." Smack. "Are." Smack. "Such." Smack. "A." Smack. "Dick." Smack.

"Jesus, Robs, could you-" his remark dies on his lips a tad at the sound of your cackling. He gives you a smarmy look as your eyes twist shut and your arms cross your middle in laughter. Quickly, he catches himself staring once again, and turns his annoyance back on Robin. "Could ya not hit me so hard?"

She storms off towards the back once again.

"Please?" Steve calls out after her, arms raised theatrically in the air. He turns his gaze back on you, fixing you with an exasperated look. But, he can’t stay mad for long when you're smiling so big at him.

"You just had to tell her, didn't you?" He sighs, a little to exaggeratedly to be genuine, and you chuckle as he turns back to the computer. "I bruise easily, ya know."

You shuffle a bit closer towards him as you peak at the computer screen. The warmth of your front seeps into his arm and his grip on the mouse gets a touch tighter.

"Sorry, but my loyalties lie with her." You tease, reading all the returns on the screen. "Oh, geez, we're not gonna get Dirty Dancing back in? Shit."

"You're telling me you'd pick Robin over me in a fight?" He peaks down at you with furrowed brows. Then he turns back to the screen disappointedly. "Yeah, it sucks. I really liked that one too; Swayze's so fucking cool," he mumbles to himself.

You chuckle at the duel conversations taking place and turn to lean against the counter next to him, a little close for comfort.

"I mean, I've known Robin longer, so yeah, I suppose I’d choose her... You like Swayze? The guy seems a little pompous to me." Your shoulders shrug as you look towards the back of the store, avoiding Steve's gaze. You’re well aware of Steve's love for Swayze.

"Wh— ‘Pompous?' That better mean, 'one of the coolest guys on the planet.' Have you seen him in The Outsiders— You know what— No, you cannot distract me with your distaste for Swayze." He closes his eyes and shakes his head to right himself before turning fully to face you. "You're telling me, just because you've known Robin longer, if I asked you who you liked better, you would pick Robin over me?"

You contemplate for a minute, exaggeratedly - holding your chin and squinting your eyes dramatically.

"Hmm, I dunno. I mean, what do you have to offer that she doesn’t?"

"What do I have— Ok." His hands go up, ready to give you the rundown. "One," he counts out on his fingers, "I'm extremely funny—"

"Well, I feel that goes without saying," you quip.

"Two, I have a car—"

"No explanation needed."

"Three, I'm unbearably generous. I give you half of my lunch every time you forget to bring something—"

"Even though I tell you not to."

"And four, I'm painfully good-looking. Have you seen the hair?"

"And modest, too."

You give him a smug smirk, and he returns it with an irritated look, a smile still creeping onto his features.

You're so smart. And quick-witted. And pretty. And sweet. And— oh god, where is Robin?

Steve breaks eye-contact with you and glances around the store, desperately searching for Robin. He can't be alone with you for this long.

He peaks at his watch. 4:58. Thank god. Two minutes until he can leave. Of course, he doesn't really want to leave. He'd spend all day here with you if he could, but he's been trying really hard to keep things friendly, and he really doesn't know how long he'll be able to contain himself if you keep being so... you.

"You ok?" you question, a touch of concern creeping onto your features.

"Huh?" He looks back at you, eyes wide. "Oh, uh, no, yeah, I'm all good, I think I'm just gonna head out now." He rambles, walking out from behind the counter, a little too quick to be just casual.

"Aren't you gonna clock out?" You ask humorously, tilting your head towards the computer, your forearms resting on the counter coolly.

"Oh," he spins back around, an embarrassed blush crawling up his neck. "Yeah, right."

He shuffles back to the computer and opens the timecard software.

"Duh," he utters to himself absentmindedly, still trying to appear nonchalant.

"Duh." You mimic, a touch of amusement slipping into your tone.

He hits a few stray buttons and clocks himself out, turning to face you one last time.

You're close — really close — and Steve starts to freak out a bit, running his fingers through his hair and taking a tentative step back, bumping into the counter behind him.

"Well, uh," he chuckles nervously, "I-I'll see ya."

A smile ghosts over your features, and you take a small step towards him, just an inch or two away from his front. Leisurely, your warm palm comes up to rest on his bicep, just above the elbow, right on his bare skin.

He goes a bit frantic, eyes snapping down to the spot where you two meet, then back up to your eyes, a touch of helplessness in his expression.

You lean slightly into his chest, dropping your voice an octave, your breath fanning over his neck.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Steve." A little smirk graces over your lips and Steve jerks into action, sliding out from the counter and all but jogging to the front door, your warm touch on his arm still burning his skin.

"Uh, yeah," he raises his voice, walking backwards towards the door to maintain eye contact with you. "Bye! I'll uh, see you tomorrow, ok? Bye, Rob!" He turns on his heel, lifting his hand in the air to wave goodbye to you over his shoulder before he shoves the door open, running out into the parking lot, hands rubbing over his face frustratedly.

Just then, Robin pops out from the back; you're still staring after the vest-clad boy as he hops into his car.

"Someone's in a hurry," she mutters, alluding to his hasty exit. "What was that about?"

You smirk to yourself, watching as Steve rakes another hand through his hair, peaking back at the store and locking eyes with you for a brief moment. He immediately looks away, starting the ignition and peeling out of the parking lot.

A chuckle leaves you.

"Think I make him nervous."

——————————————————————————

The next day is even worse.

With Keith hiding away in the back, it's been just you and Steve out front all day.

You definitely know. You have to know the effect you have on him, especially after his behavior yesterday.

Steve's usually never this jumpy, but something about your soft touch and your melodic voice and your sickeningly sweet smell sets him off.

It doesn’t help the store is completely empty.

Absolutely bored out of his mind, Steve gives himself a little shake before focusing back on the computer before him, scanning over the list of names.

The Terminator - 10/10 CHECKED OUT

Pretty In Pink - 8/10 CHECKED OUT

Dirty Dancing - NO LONGER AVAILABLE

Blue Velvet - 6/10 CHECKED OUT

He peeks at his watch. Still about three more hours, and he's already run out of things to do. A sigh rakes through him as he mindlessly turns his eyes back to the log.

Labyrinth - NO LONGER AVAILABLE

True Stories - 1/10 CHECKED OUT

Eyes beginning to glaze over, the words no longer hold any meaning. He's just scrolling and scrolling through the list now, aimlessly trying to appear busy, when some movement behind the screen catches his eye.

Bunches of tapes are being placed in a stack towards the front of the store by gentle, purposeful hands. Your hands.

Today you're wearing your vest over a band t-shirt that Steve doesn't recognize. His jacket is draped over your shoulders - he insisted you use it after he saw your shiver when you walked in today, claiming he wasn't cold, as goosebumps pricked up his arms. The light grey of the jacket pairs well with your dark, bell-bottom jeans, a staple in your wardrobe that Steve has quickly come to recognize. The back pockets have small, embroidered flowers and you love to stick the old stickers on the thigh once you peel them off old returns. New dangly earrings glimmer through your hair as you work. Steve been waiting to mention them; he was just thinking of a non-creepy way to bring it up.

With the display finished, you gathered up the rest of the tapes and extra signs and headed to the counter. Steve quickly made himself look busy.

"Workin' hard or hardly workin'?" You tease as you make your way behind the register, setting the extra supplies on a lower shelf, out of view of the customers.

"Oh, you know me. I just... love doing inventory." He gave you a playful smirk, which you return knowingly.

"I know its a passion of yours," you chuckle and crouch down a bit, riffling through the cupboards until you find what you're looking for.

Steve hums, turning back to the keys and clacking away, trying desperately to get a peek at what you have in his peripheral.

You toss a pen and Robin’s old crossword book on the counter and shoot him a look.

"Think she'll mind?" you ask, leaning against the counter and making yourself comfortable.

Steve shrugs, "We'll just tell her it was Keith."

You chuckle and flip the book open. Your tongue pops out quickly as you lick your index finger for a better grip on the pages. Steve swallows a bit rougher then normal.

"You good at crosswords?" you ask nonchalantly as you flip to an empty page.

"Not particularly. Robin's usually the brains of the operation."

"You wanna help? I'm awful. Maybe if we stick our brainpower together, we'll have one working braincell." You smirk at your own joke and start to read through the clues up the side.

A small hum leaves him as he slides into your side. He's touching you, but only slightly, his jacket brushing against his arm as he leans over your shoulder to read the book himself.

"Ah, 11-down," he points it out on the paper, "'Sunburn treatment.' Sunscreen, easy."

"Steve,” you snort, “11-down is only four letters." You chuckle, filling in the word. Aloe. Peaking over your shoulder, you shoot a smirk his way.

"Right, right. I was just testing you."

"Right, uh-huh. Sure," you mutter, giggling to yourself.

"Ok, ok, here. 26-across.” He’s a bit more confident this time. “'Waterloo singers.' ABBA."

You side-eye him. "You know ABBA, Stevie?"

"Well— I mean, I've heard a couple songs."

Your eyes glint at him. "Right."

"Just fill it in." He huffs, leaning back down over your shoulder to lock eyes with the book.

The smell of your shampoo fills his nose and it takes everything in him not to reach out and pull your hair to the side to get a look at your pretty neck.

Clearing his throat a little, turns back to the stack of things you shoved away earlier under the register.

"Ok, what about this one. 65-across. 'God of Love.'"

He stops and thinks for a moment, stumped.

"I'm terrible with shit like this,” he mutters. “I dunno… Aphrodite?"

"God, Steve, not Goddess. Four letters... Maybe Eros?"

"See. You're smart. Why would you need my help?" he asks, gathering up the supplies for the next display and heading to the front window.

"Cause you looked bored. Thought I might entertain you." You follow after him, crossword and pen still in hand.

Once you reach the window, you grab his arm and stop him, holding the book out towards him.

"Here, trade me," you say, shoving the pen into his hand and taking the supplies from his arms. "I'm better at the display stuff anyways."

Steve blushes just a tad, remembering Robin’s teasing from yesterday.

"Right," he drops his eyes to the puzzle as you start organizing your supplies. "30-across, 'Bubbles.'"

"How many letters?" you grunt, stretching up on your top toes to hang a sign. Your shirt rides up just a tad, your soft skin emerging. His eyes snap back to the book.

"Um, four."

"Suds." You bend down, grabbing the clear masking tape. He fills in the four boxes with the black ink and turns his gaze back to you. Looking down, Steve's stomach flips just a little, noticing the edge soft edge of lace peaking out from your jeans.

Suddenly, the monotonous ring of the phone snaps him out of his thoughts. After a few rings, you turn and glance up at him.

"Gonna get that?" you ask innocently, and he has to stop his thoughts from racing once again.

"Uh, y-yeah, right." He hands you the pen and book and jogs lightly over towards the phone.

Leaning over the counter, he grabs the handset, readying his customer service voice.

"Thank you for calling Family Video, this is Steve." Slowly, he starts extending the cord and working his way around to the back of the counter, keeping the phone clutched to his ear. "How can I help you today?"

"Hello, young man," the woman's old, raspy voice crinkled through the other end and Steve inwardly groaned. "Do you think you could recommend something for an old timer like me?"

Steve rests his elbows, preparing himself for a long conversation.

"Well," he grabs the slinky from the shelf below the register, "do you have anything particular in mind, ma'am?"

"Well… I'm not too sure..."

He sighs silently, shuffling around the slinky and looking back up at you.

You had been staring, and you shoot him a little smile when you lock eyes.

"Old?" you mouth to him exaggeratedly.

He rolls his eyes. "Ancient," he mouths back, much to your amusement. You spin on your heel and start grabbing more signs to hang in the window.

"Well, the first time I called, a young man recommended some war picture. Something about the air force? ‘Top of the Gun’ or something like that." That was most definitely Steve. "I just hated it... And the second time I called, a young woman pointed me towards a charming little picture about a young man in love with his boss's mistress. The one with Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine?" Definitely Robin. "Now, that one was just wonderful. Reminds me of something I would watch as a child. Way back when, movie tickets were only a nickel. A nickel! Can you believe that—"

It seems like the old woman was simply looking for some one to talk to. Steve started zoning out again as the old woman droned on through the headset.

Looking up, he spots you, kneeling down, grabbing the last of the signs and finally standing up a life size cut-out of Howard the Duck.

Steve was staring again.

He couldn’t help it. You were dynamic. He just couldn't tear his eyes off you, even as you crouched down to grab the crossword you set at your feet.

Studying the puzzle, you slowly brought the pen to your lips, nibbling on the end gently, before spinning it in your fingers to scribble in a word or two.

Your movements, your gestures, everything was mesmerizing about you.

Tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, you lean against a nearby shelf, continuing your pondering. Your foot bounced on the ground mindlessly as you tapped the pen to your lips, humming some tune to yourself that Steve struggles to make out. Prince? Bananarama? He couldn't quite tell.

As he strained his ears towards you, the old woman's voice slowly started drifting back to him.

"And then, once the price of oil went up in the 70's, no one was prepared for inflation by the time the 80's rolled around. How old are you, young man? You can't be more than, what, 17?"

Too busy staring after you, he quickly jerked back into the conversation.

"Oh- um, uh, I'm 19, ma'am. 20 in April."

"Right. So you've never known what it's like to live through something as scary as the Great Depression. Well, lemme just tell you-"

And she lost him again, his eyes creeping back over to something more interesting.

You were hunched over the crossword, hair draping over your shoulder and hiding your face. Your scribbling was much more intense now. You must be nearly done.

Quickly, you stuffed the pen in your book and gathered up the tape gun and the extra signs and headed to the back of the store. You gave Steve a small scrunch of the nose as you approached and he silently held up his hand, making it talk as he mouthing"Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah," earning a giggle from you.

You held up the spare supplies in your hands and nodded towards the backroom, checking to make sure that was their correct storage place. Steve gave you a little nod in confirmation and you shot him a small smile, heading off.

Just as you walked past the counter, a page from your crossword fluttered from the book to the ground.

Still on the phone, Steve was unable to call after you, so instead he lengthened the cord again, shimmying around the counter again, phone still clutched in his hand.

"Uh-huh, right, of course," he mindlessly indulged the woman on the other end as he tucked the handset between his shoulder and his ear, kneeling down to collect the dropped page.

Curious to see if you solved it, he flipped it over, inspecting the small boxes.

The puzzle was certainly complete, but it definitely was not correct.

Every word, down and across, was filled with the words "QUIT STARING" over and over again in your perfect script.

A blush crept up his neck and slithered over his cheeks.

He's been caught.

Nearly dropping the phone, he looks up after you.

There you were, peaking through the break room window, smirking back at him.

——————————————————————————

A couple weeks later, and Steve felt like he might pass out.

Tonight's the first night you and Steve would be closing together. Alone. No Robin, no Keith. Just you and him. All afternoon.

He's tried not to think about it — a slow Tuesday night, no one else in the store but you and him, no one else to stop him from doing something rash. Instead, he's been trying all day to keep things as platonic as possible.

But you keep pushing it.

A subtle brush on his arm as you clock in next to him. Your fingers grazing over his as you take a stack of tapes from his hands. Sneaking in between him and a shelf, your back pressing against his front just a bit too hard to be accidental.

He's been really trying to keep his promise with Robin. But his self-restrain was wearing thin.

Somehow, he’s made it all the way to close, only had a few tasks left before he could finally escape your watchful eyes and your sweet perfume and your accidental touches.

Steve quickly locked the doors and you two got to work finishing up any miscellaneous tasks you couldn’t complete earlier.

You were both in the horror section, shelving a plethora of Chopping Mall tapes in a comfortable silence, the soft music over the store's speakers deafened slightly by the rain tapping against the store’s front windows.

"Did you have lunch today, Steve?" you shatter the silence, not turning your attention away from restocking.

He peaks over at you, trying — and failing — to mirror your casual tone.

"Uh… No, I don't think so."

"You don't think so?" you turn to him, and he simply shrugs.

"Forgot it at home," he turns to face you, catching your baffled expression.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you ask, a little hurt.

Another shrug. "Didn't wanna bother you with something stupid like 'I forgot my lunch.'"

You squint your eyes at him a little, expression becoming unreadable. Clasping your fingers into his, and you spin towards the real room.

"C'mere," you huff, pulling him behind you.

Not only is he confused, but now his brain's turned to mush from your hand molded into his.

God, why does he get butterflies just from holding your hand? He's gone soft.

You push open the back door and haul him inside, pushing him gently towards the chair in the back. He sits reluctantly as you spin to grab the brown bag you brought for lunch. Riffling through it for a moment, suddenly you pull out a plump, uneaten orange, waving it beside you with an excited grin.

Taking a step towards him, you nudge his knee with your own.

"Scooch. There's only one chair back here and I do not wanna sit on the ground. Who knows what Keith gets up to back here," you mumble quickly, starting to peel the citrusy fruit, the scent already filling the room.

He scooted over a little, offering half the seat to you, and you plopped down beside him, thigh flush with his. Your fingers work deftly as you finish and discard the peel in the wastebasket next to your feet. Gently, you begin to break apart the slices, offering him the first wedge.

"Listen, I don't wanna eat your lunch," he begins to shove your hand away, much to your annoyance. "You have it."

"We’ll split it, ok.” You give him an adamant look, hoping to persuade him. He still looks skeptical. "I won’t be able to finish it by myself. I’d hate to throw it away," you insist.

Deflating slightly, Steve folds, taking the slice and popping it in his mouth. The zing of the fruit makes his lips pucker a tad and he swears it's one of the sweetest oranges he's ever tasted.

You take one of your own, humming at the taste, before proffering another. He takes the next, another comfortable silence blanketing over the two of you, the slight sound of rain overhead.

The heat of your thigh mixed with the combined smell of you and the orange had him in a tizzy and he was struggling to come up with any topics of conversation.

Only one thing came to mind, and it was a little risky. But, hell, now was as good a time as any, right?

"You're my favorite person, I think," he mumbles around a bite of orange, breaking the silence. He can feel you tense just a bit beside him and he panics, backtracking. "In the store. My favorite coworker."

Smooth.

A small hum leaves you, and he waits for a response.

"Oh really?" you question humorously, something else hiding behind your words. "Even over Robin?"

"Yeah," he shrugs, inspecting the slice of fruit in is hand. "Well, for right now, at least," he teases, earning a light shove from you.

"Shut up," you laugh, no real heat behind your words.

Another silence. Still facing forward, you both smile to yourselves, munching on the orange contentedly. Not having to look you in the eye was bringing Steve some newfound confidence. He took a few more bites and swallowed roughly, choosing his next words carefully.

"You've been my favorite person for a long time. Ever since you started, actually." His voice was soft, timid in a way you've never heard before.

Simultaneously, you both turn in towards each other, a heated stare shared between you.

A beat. You both can’t pull your eyes away from each other.

“Steve?” You speak so softly, Steve thinks he may have imagined it.

“Yeah?” he breathes out.

“You’re staring again.” Your gaze darts down to his lips for a fraction of a second, then back up to his honey eyes.

“So are you.”

Your tongue pops out in a flash, wetting your lips alluringly.

Another beat. Then Steve throws caution to the wind.

Before he can think, he’s leaning into you and pressing a soft, sweet kiss on your plush lips.

He relishes those brief few seconds, eyelids fluttering closed, but he pulls back just as quickly, looking a little panicked.

Had he ruined everything?

You blink, then take in a shaky breath before your grabbing his face with two hands and crushing his lips to yours once more. His nose bumps your cheek and your let out a miniscule whimper at the feel of him. He can taste the orange on your lips, acidic and sweet. Slowly, his tongue presses between your lips, seeking entrance. With a light pull on your jaw, you open up to him.

God, you taste like a thousand oranges, a million sweets, the yummiest thing he’s ever tasted.

Slowly, your hands come to rest on either side of his neck, pulling him closer. Still not satisfied, you desperately shuffle around on the tiny desk chair, knees brushing with his as you attempt to keep your lips locked while closing that last bit of space between you.

Steve leans back just slightly, your face still in his hands.

His eyes scan yours rapidly — making sure this is real — before another brief kiss, then a mumble against your lips. "God, I'm so fucking into you."

You kiss him deeper, smiling against his mouth, before pulling back with a snicker.

"Well, I would hope so, seeing as we're swapping spit in the break room."

He scrunches his nose jokingly at you before pulling you in for another light peck, this time on the corner of your mouth, then another on your cheek, then your nose and your eyebrow and your chin, and suddenly you're giggling and squirming against him, trying hard to pull away and failing miserably.

"St-Steve, stop! You're getting your gross spit all over me," you urge, pressing a hand to the side of his face and pushing him away gently, fondly.

He chuckles a little against the palm of your hand, acquiescing to your protest with a smirk. "Oh, please, you love it."

An unladylike snort leaves you and you stick your tongue out at him mockingly.

His eyes scan over your face again, this time really indulging himself now that he no longer has to hide his affection.

Then, realization hits him.

His face drops and you can't help but mirror his worried expression.

"What are we gonna tell Robs?" he asks, concerned.

He promised her he wouldn't do anything this time. But you were different than all the other girls Robin was friends with. You weren't just some girl asked out for a superficial make-out in the backseat. You were something more than that. Someone special.

Slowly, a smile creeps over your face, confusing Steve all the more. A small giggle bursts from your lips and Steve starts to contemplate again if this is all some dream, some cruel prank.

"Steve," you grab his jaw gently, like he were a clueless little puppy. "She already knows. I told her I liked you last week and she told me to go for it."

His eyes go wide.

"But— But she told me she didn't want me going anywhere near you," he mutters in disbelief, still not understanding.

"Yeah." Another giggle leaves you. "She just wanted to see how long you could last."

Of course. Robin loves to make his life difficult.

"She told me to really lay it on thick, really pull out my charm," you laugh. "You lasted pretty long, too. Longer than we expected. She bet you'd cave in about a week, so look at you! You exceeded her expectations! Robin's gonna be so proud."

A cocky smile graces your lips at his adorable expression. You ruffle his hair unabashedly, planting one last peck to the corner of his mouth, before hopping out of the chair, leaving him in disbelief.

"C'mon, pretty boy, let's lock up and get outta here. We got some catching up to do."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you

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soupinaboot · 3 months

Text

Fuck it. Every Steve Harrington headcannon I have because I've been rotating that boy in my head like a pig on a stick Part 2 this is a little more in depth than the first one but only by a smug

- Epileptic, either since he was young or developed it over time due to all those concussions he keeps getting

- Favorite fruit is blackberries I have no reason

- Kinda sad but he never really had friends, yeah he hung out with Tommy and Carol but that was about it. Like after the fall out with them he was by himself, alone. I feel like if he was as popular as we think he is, he would have at least one other friend right?

- Does not have a filter at all. That one scene where he just casually says, "Oh yeah my parents are out of town because my mom doesn't trust him to not cheat on her any who!" and I feel like he just kinda does that

- Star Trek fan but he just does not comprehend that it's supposed to be nerdy (this is not my own I saw someone else headcannon this please tell me if you find them I can not)

- Absolutely sucked at ELA, could be cause of dyslexia or not whatever you want buttercup

- But on the topic of dyslexia, this headcannon is one of the main reasons why I love math nerd Stevie so much. Like, ELA test and History test are mostly long paragraphs that he needs more time to read through and his teachers don't care enough to give him extra time like he needs. But math tests tend to have a small paragraph that he can read faster or just focus on the numbers and finish on time, so he just got really good at math so he would have at least one class he passed

- Survives off of coffee, lord knows he needs it

- My most random headcannon is that since his parents were never really around or cared much for his safety, he used to hang out outside a lot and explore the wildlife around, got really into nature and animals, bought nature books etc. But his dad told him nature and animals were girly and forced him to stop even though he really loved it

- If he does ever go to college (which he doesn't have to, though if Robin went he would probably go with her), he would either get in education major and become a math teacher or some form of environmental degree

- His love language is quality time

- Among the three of them, Steve and Carol were the closest. Yes, Steve and Tommy met first, and yes they tend to call each other their best friends, but in actuality Carol and Steve were best friends. They have mean girl energy.

- He used to also play hockey when he was younger but stopped playing due to scheduling and shit. But he really liked it cause whenever he would practice there were these older figure skaters who would teach him figure skating (he kinda liked it more than hockey but he never told anyone)

- Speaking of scheduling, he is always tired due to his packed schedule. Since he was young, his dad forced him into a lot of sports and didn't really give him a break. Add that to his piano lessons, his jobs, studying that his dad forced him to do, friends, etc... he is just perpetually tired. And it fucked up his sleep schedule developing into insomnia as he got older

- Most of his and Eddie's dates are just them taking naps

- Once he meets Corroded Coffin they all become best friends. Like best fucking friends

- Specifically Steve and Jeff

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flowercrowngods · 1 year

Text

🤍 also on ao3

It’s just past 3am when Steve finally caves and reaches for the phone on his night stand. His fingers are trembling slightly as he dials Eddie’s number — he knows it by heart even though he never called before. Eddie gave it to him a few weeks ago, making him promise that he’d call if he ever needed to talk.

“Any time of day or night, alright, Harrington? Call me whenever.”

And so that’s what he’s doing now, feeling strangely vulnerable about it. There’s no way Eddie’s gonna pick up. He’s gonna wake him. He’s gonna keep him from his sleep, possibly even interrupting one of the few nightmare-less nights he has.

Steve feels guilty the very second the dial tone meets the silence of his room, his chest heavy, eyes closed. Part of him hopes that Eddie won’t pick up the phone, that he’s in deep enough sleep to miss the call, that he’ll come into Family Video tomorrow and smile at Steve like he always does, none the wiser.

But, miraculously, amazingly, unfortunately, Eddie does pick up the phone. Rather immediately, at that.

“Yeah?” He sounds sleepy, and Steve’s heart falls immediately. He can’t get his mouth to work, only holding the phone to his ear, soaking up Eddie’s sleepy voice and trying to replace the guilt, the weakness, the heaviness of another sleepless night. “Hello?”

Steve remains silent. Can’t quite get the words to work. Fucking figures.

“Stevie? It’s you, isn’t it?”

He nods, stupidly, before saying, “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Hey now, what the hell do you have to be sorry for?” There’s shuffling on the other side and Steve imagines that Eddie is sitting up now, settling in to listen to the sob story of the nightmare Steve had without even falling asleep first. He does that sometimes. Doctor Owens has a fancy term for it, but Steve doesn’t want a label for his insanity. Because if there’s a label, that means it’s nothing special — and that’s kinda the only thing he has left.

But he doesn’t tell Eddie anything about that. Maybe one day. If he sticks around. Gods, but Steve hopes he does.

“If you’re sorry for calling me,” Eddie continues, his voice impossibly soft, “you don’t gotta be that. It’s fine. It’s why you have this number, alright? I’m here.” There’s more silence for a moment, but it’s the kind of silence that leaves him room to breathe. Eddie is good at that kind of silence, despite the fact that he talks so much all the time.

Maybe it’s the constant talking that makes the silences all the more significant.

“What do you need, Stevie?” Eddie asks then, and Steve hides under his blanket, the phone pressed to his ear. “I could come over. Or you could come over, I don’t really care either way.”

“No. Don’t wanna move. And…” No company, he wants to say, but the words get stuck in his throat. Sometimes company and kindness make the bad times worse. They make it more real, and what Steve needs is for everything to be a little less real. Maybe that’s why he’s calling Eddie. There’s no way that boy with his doe eyes and his wide smiles and his gentle voice in the middle of the night is real.

“Alright, I got it.” Eddie breathes deeply on the other end and Steve remembers that that’s a good idea actually, so he follows Eddie’s breath for a while.

“Can we just…” He trails off. Gives up on finding words, cringing at himself, glad that Eddie can’t see him like this.

“Can we what, hm?”

Steve shakes his head and remains silent, knows that his voice will sound anything but strong when he opens his mouth, and every second Eddie doesn’t hear what a mess he is, is important.

“I’m bad at this,” is what he settles on, closing his eyes against the world inside and outside his blanket.

“At what? Sleep? Words?”

Yes, and yes. But it’s not what he means. “Asking for things. I’m not good at that.”

“Hey, neither am I,” Eddie says and it sounds like he’s smiling. Steve imagines it and he hopes, oh he hopes that Eddie is smiling. “Y’know how I told you to call me whenever? That was essentially me just asking for you to call me. To know that… that I’m here.”

“I do,” Steve says quietly, and his body is sort of trembling with the confession. “I do know that.”

“Good,” Eddie breathes. “So what do you need?”

Steve sighs and pretends he’s somewhere else, pretends he’s in a world where asking is easy, where being known comes naturally and not with shaking voice and trembling hands. Pretends Eddie knows him already.

“Can we just… Fall asleep like this? Talking, I mean, though I don’t even know if I have things to say. The silence is more important anyway. You’re good at those, did you know?”

A light chuckle comes from Eddie, and Steve smiles along with it. “I’m good at silences? Me, Eddie Munson? You sure you don’t have the wrong number?”

“Very.” It’s all Steve says, and then it’s Eddie who’s quiet— as if to prove his point.

“Yeah, Stevie,” he says after a beat, his voice making Steve shiver. “We can fall asleep like this. Do you need me to talk to you, or…?”

He considers briefly, but he already knows the answer. He doesn’t need Eddie to talk. Just needs him to be there.

“Nah. Just… Just be there?”

There’s a hum now — the same kind of hum that Eddie always does right before giving him that secret smile of his, when he’s about to touch Steve or give him a new pet name. Sometimes, when the door to Family Video falls shut behind Eddie and Steve is left to deal with his fluttering heart, he likes to believe that this him has been placed into the universe with his name to it.

He wonders if Eddie knows. If the hum tastes like his name, if it makes Eddie’s heart flutter just as much.

“Hey Stevie?” Eddie interrupts their silence after a while and Steve can’t fight the smile on his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Did you know that otters hold hands at night so they don’t drift away from each other in their sleep?” He waits for a moment, allowing for a reaction, leaving another silence for him to claim. He does, but only with a smile as he grips the phone tighter, imagining it to be Eddie’s hand. “This sorta feels like that.”

The trembling that hasn’t really stopped is back now, the air heavy with implications and possibilities. Steve swallows.

“You keeping me from drifting away, Munson?”

“I hope so.”

It’s whispered words across the lines, crossing lines and blurring them. It’s taking his breath away, replacing it with something else, something new, something he has only felt when they were alone, but never this intense. He fills his lungs with it.

“Hey Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

More whispers, more greedy lungfuls of this something new.

“Is it bad that I kinda wanna hold your hand now?”

A beat, a sigh, a careful breath. It makes Steve think that the air in Eddie’s room is sizzling too, heavy and light at the same time. Maybe it’s just as addictive.

“Only if it’s bad that I’m kinda imagining yours in mine right now.”

Steve shakes his head again and doesn’t feel stupid about it now. “I don’t think that’s bad,” he whispers.

“Good.”

Maybe whispers are their new language. Maybe everything else is too harsh for this fragile thing, maybe the world outside Steve’s blanket isn’t ready to see the smile on his face or hear the rapid beat of his heart. He doesn’t mind.

“Tomorrow. Can I hold your hand tomorrow?”

“What do you mean, Stevie, you’re already holding it.” And there’s that smile again that makes Steve huff out the softest of chuckles, hiding his face in his pillow to ground himself against this heady feeling. “Yeah, you can hold it tomorrow, but only if I can hold yours, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds perfect, Eds,” Steve says, just louder than a whisper, and he waits with bated breath if anyone out there in the universe heard, if their bubble would burst.

But it doesn’t. Eddie only murmurs a sweet, soft, “Can’t wait.” And then there’s only silence because they’re both smiling, hearts racing, hands trembling around the phantom touch of warm fingers. They fall asleep like that soon after.

#steddie #steddie fluff #steddie fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #oh look dio wrote another story between 3 and 4am :)#but it’s fluff this time!!! real fluff!!! i’m evolving yall #dio words #i can’t even check the word count because i wrote this all in the tumblr app sorry #okay so apparently it’s 1.4k words so let’s all just keep in mind i wrote this in just under an hour at the asscrack of void hours so. yeah

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hairmetal666 · 10 months

Text

Steddie She's All That au????

Steve pulls up to the Munson's trailer, a secondhand acoustic across the backseat. Can't believe he's here; that he's actually doing this. He shouldn't. Absolutely should not; knows he let his still-simmering animosity with Billy Hargrove push him to this, to trying to date Eddie Munson, to proving that he's still popular enough to win prom king with the Freak on his arm.

Munson doesn't deserve it, is the thing. For all his weirdness, his off-putting behavior, Steve thinks he might be nice. Or kind, maybe? Steve's noticed how he gathers the freshman who have no one else, gives them understanding, a place to belong. And those kids, they remind him of Dustin, Will, Mike, Lucas, and he can't help but feel something warm towards the Freak, some kind of kinship.

He puts the car in reverse, can't go through with pretending to like this guy who did nothing wrong but be too much himself.

Before he gets his foot on the gas a head pokes out the front door.

"You came," Eddie shouts.

"Said I was." Steve surrenders to his fate and puts the car in park. Eddie watches him as he grabs the guitar case, hauls it up the stairs, only moving to step out of the way.

Steve's eyes scan the living room and kitchen, something in his chest loosening as he does. There are mugs and hats covering the walls, a worn sofa, clutter on every surface. It's home in a way Steve has never experienced. He loves it.

"Alright, let it out, Harrington. I'm poor, etc."

"No!" Steve startles; hadn't realized he'd been staring so obviously. "I like it."

Eddie makes a face, but offers him a beer and guides him to sit on the couch.

"How much do you know?" Eddie asks without preamble.

He strums a couple of notes, things he picked up at summer camp ages ago. Munson nods. "Better than I expected."

Eddie runs through notes and chords, helps Steve get his fingering right. He's patient, almost kind, and he laughs softly as he gently corrects Steve's mistakes.

And Steve's fingers, they won't behave, keep slipping off the strings. Eddie arranges himself to drape around his shoulders, fits their hands together. He's warm, fingers long and callused, his rings slightly colder than Steve's skin.

"Like this, Harrington." And he and Steve strum in tandem, and Steve is caught by the light glinting in his curls, the softness of his dark brown eyes, the fullness of his pink lips. He wonders how soft they are, what they taste like, if Eddie would cling to him or take control.

"You with me, Steve?" Eddie asks, shocking him back to the present.

"Yeah, yes, right here. Sorry." He throws himself into learning, but can't stop stealing little looks at the man teaching him.

And Steve, he knows it's not a bet anymore. He'll tell Hagan and Hargrove he's out, take whatever shit they give him, and Eddie never has to know.

---

A month in, Steve walks into the trailer and sees those little figurines, like the kids have for their game, scattered on the coffee table; sheets of paper with scrawled writing and doodles lining the floor; one of those weird manual things that Dustin always lugs around sitting open on the couch.

"Fuck, Stevie, I'm sorry. Lost track of time." Eddie's face turns pink as he gathers the looseleaf and slams the book closed.

"You play that dragon game?" He asks. He picks up one of the figures, studies the meticulous paint. It does something weird to his heart.

"What did you think Hellfire--Wait." Eddie pauses. "Why do you--Steve Harrington--know about dnd?"

"The kids I babysit play."

Eddie stares at him openmouthed. "Shit, sweetheart. You've been holding out on me. You ever join them?"

"Nah. To tell you the truth, they're pretty intimidating about it."

Eddie laughs, drawing Steve's eyes to his slender neck. "You scared of children, Stevie?"

"You haven't met them, man. They're terrifying."

"You know," Eddie's eyelashes flicker. "I run a campaign with Hellfire after school every Friday. You could--if you wanted--you could come. You're probably busy, I know, but if you find some free time and you wan--

"Eddie!" Steve laughs. "I wouldn't miss it."

"Really?"

"Promise."

---

He shows up that first Friday to some mixed reactions from most of the Hellfire members, and Eddie's shy, pleased smile. They make eye contact and Steve's stomach swoops.

"You came," Eddie says when they get a second alone.

"I told you I would." Steve laughs.

"C'mon, you're going to tell me this isn't a hopelessly lame way for King Steve to spend a Friday night?"

"Maybe." Steve nudges Eddie's chest. "And maybe I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

Steve watches them play and is transfixed. He's never seen Eddie totally in his element. His voice goes deep and rumbly, doing accents, shouting, jumping around, banging on the table. Steve can't pull his eyes away, doesn't want to, can't stop smiling.

"What'd you think?" Eddie asks when the session is over and they're alone. His hands shuffle through his notebook, eyes fixed firmly on the table.

Steve grabs his wrists, soft, careful. "Amazing, Eddie," he says. "You were amazing."

"Really?" Eddie's throat bobs. He finally looks up, meets Steve's eyes.

"Never seen anything like you." His eyes drift to Eddie's mouth. The space between them shrinks.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?" his voice waivers.

"Can I kiss you?"

He thinks Eddie might pull away, freeze up, but instead his eyelashes flutter, his lips shaping into a gentle smile. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

Steve laughs, slips his fingers through Eddie's hair, closes the distance between them. It starts sweet and soft, until Eddie's tongue brushes his bottom lip and Steve opens for him, lets him take control, as easy as anything. For the first time, he lets someone else lead, sinks into it, into Eddie. It's perfect.

---

Prom court nominations come out with Steve number one on the ballot for king. The other nominees are Billy, Tommy, and some weirdo religious zealot junior Steve barely knows, Jason Carver.

He doesn't think much of it, having slipped so easily into a version of himself that sits at the Hellfire table at lunch, spends evenings at the Munson trailer and nights in Eddie's bed. Sure, he catches Hargrove glaring at him throughout the day, but pays it no mind. Billy Hargrove's always pissed about something, anyway.

So, he's unprepared when Hargrove and Hagan corner him that afternoon as he's waiting for Eddie to finish up a deal. There's a kick in his stomach, a swirl of nausea, at their presence. He didn't ever tell Eddie about the bet, figured it didn't matter since they were together, since they both started falling.

"Think you're hot shit, Harrington?" Hargrove asks. Hagan laughs like he's never heard a real joke before.

"I'm out," he says in way of answer. "Bet's over."

"Stevie-Boy, I don't think you understand," Hagan says.

"Nah, I'm not doing it." Worry prickles at his scalp. Eddie will be done soon, and he needs Billy and Tommy gone.

Hargrove pinches Steve's chin in his grip. "We made a bet, and you're seeing it through."

"Hey, hey, hey," the last voice Steve wants to hear right now shouts. "What the fuck is going on here? Get the fuck off him, Hargrove."

Billy's wrenched away, but he's laughing, and Steve is frozen at the train wreck unfolding in front of him.

"Harrington tell you about the bet?" Billy asks.

"Bet?" Eddie's nose wrinkles in the cute way Steve loves and he's terrified of what comes next.

"Uh-huh. Hagan and I bet Harrington here that he couldn't date the biggest dud in school and still wind up prom king. Little did we know, I guess."

Steve watches as the words hit Eddie, as he processes them, as his face falls. His gut twists as he watches his boyfriend go tense.

"What?" Eddie's eyes widen with panic.

Tommy's face contorts into a cruel smile."You didn't think Harrington was actually into you, did you?"

Eddie doesn't respond, won't look at any of them, draws into himself.

Hargrove snickers. "That's what I thought. Have a good night." He gives them a pageant queen wave as he walks away.

Steve's crosses to Eddie as soon as the other two are gone, but Eddie flinches, stopping him in his tracks.

"Was I bet, Steve?" He asks. His voice cracks.

"It wasn't like that, Ed, I swear. I swear." He grabs Eddie's shoulders, and again, he's pushed away.

"You didn't answer the question."

"It was real for me," Steve babbles. "It was all real for me. I promise."

"Answer me!" Tears limn his eyes. "Was I a bet?"

"It wasn't like--"

"Was I a fucking bet?" He yells and Steve can't take it. Can't take the hurt all over Eddie's face, the betrayal. Wants to erase it, to make everything okay, to get back to where they were last night, wrapped in Eddie's bedsheets, giggling.

"It started as a bet, okay? It did. I messed up by not telling you. I know I did. But I like you so much. I--I--" Steve loves him. He knows without any doubt, but he can't say it not now, not for this.

"Fuck you, Harrington," Eddie says. His voice is even but his face is a wreck.

"Please, Eddie." Steve begs. "Please. Give me a chance to explain. You're everything."

Eddie doesn't respond. He climbs into his van, drives away without a second glance.

---

He tries to apologize.

He tries to apologize, but Eddie isn't at school, not at first, and the death glare he gets from the Hellfire guys lets him know he's no longer welcome. When Eddie does come back he won't so much as look at Steve.

He goes to the trailer park where Wayne--Wayne who he watched sports with, Wayne who liked him--stands on the steps and says, "I don't think you have any business here anymore, kid. Not if you know what's good for you." And Steve nods and goes home and cries.

---

Steve stands on the stairs of the Munson trailer in his tux with a bouquet of flowers that are so purple they're almost black and a self-recorded tape in his hands. Prom is tonight but he has no interest in going to the dance that started all this bullshit.

Music pounds from inside; Judas Priest, he thinks. Eddie's van is in the driveway and Wayne's car is not.

The music quiets at his knock, and his heart pounds in the silence. Eddie frowns when he opens the door, but it morphs into something infinitely sadder when he sees Steve.

"Aren't you supposed to be at a dance?" Eddie asks.

"No, I--I didn't want to go. I wanted to say--Eddie, I'm sorry. I should've told you the truth from the beginning. I was afraid of losing you, and you learned the truth in the worst possible way."

Eddie doesn't speak or move, so Steve barrels on.

"I--uh--I ordered these for you. Before we broke up. And I just thought--you should still have them. That you would like them."

Eddie takes the flowers like he's in a daze.

"And uh, this too," Steve places the cassette in Eddie's hand. "It's um, stupid, probably? But I miss you and I'm sorry and just--take it."

---

Steve's been at the quarry for two hours, staring up at the stars from the hood of his car. He should go, probably. Eddie clearly isn't going to show. But he can't make himself. If he stays here, looking at the sky, losing Eddie won't be real.

He's dozing off, almost asleep, when the shine of headlights has him blinking alert. A familiar van trundles to a stop next to him, and Eddie climbs out. He's wearing a snug black button-down with a deep purple rose pinned to his chest, tight black jeans, and shining black boots.

"You came." Steve scrambles off his car, graceless in his relief, his gratitude.

Eddie nods. "Wasn't sure if I should but--" he shrugs.

"I'm glad you did. Thank you. I--" he swallows. "Eddie, I'm so sorry. I'll do anything, anything if it means you'll forgive me."

"Anything?" Eddie's mouth turns up at the corner.

Steve nods, firm. "I promise."

"You learned 'Rainbow in the Dark' for me."

"I did."

"That's a really hard song." Eddie smiles but tears track down his cheeks.

Steve laughs. "It's so hard."

Somehow, without Steve noticing, their fingers are entwined. Eddie lifts their joined hands, studying them. "Oh, baby, your calluses."

"Yeah." Steve blushes. "It was important I got it right."

Eddie's mouth drops as he stares, studying Steve's eyes.

"I know it took you a lot to trust me," Steve says. "And I know I broke that, but please, please try to believe me when I say that it was real for me. From the beginning. It was all real."

Eddie clears his throat. "When did you know?"

Steve's smile is soft. "That first guitar lesson. You arranged my fingers and you just--you were so beautiful."

"Oh," Eddie breathes.

"I was an idiot, Ed. I fell in love with you, and thought I could back out of the bet, that you never had to know. I never meant to hurt you."

"Wait...love me?"

Steve freezes. He hadn't meant to say that, not yet, not when things are so tenuous. "Yeah. I--yeah, I love you, Eddie."

"That's funny, sweetheart. Cause I love you too, and four hours ago I thought falling for you was the worst mistake I've ever made."

Steve's smile matches Eddie's now. "Dance with me?" he asks.

There's no music; just the whirr of early spring insects, the rustle of leaves, but Eddie still smirks, and pulls Steve close. They sway against each other, beaming, glowing, brighter than the stars.

"You're missing your prom, Stevie," Eddie says.

"Nah. I'm not missing anything. I have you."

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