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#steve harrington imagines
ash5monster01 · 9 hours
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Lifetime Tour
Mood board ☆
Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader
soulmates au - invisible string theory
Slow down you're doing fine. You can't be everything you want to be before your time 🎶
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Steve always worried if his life would ever amount to anything and then he met you. The woman he’d spend the rest of his life with and he discovers you were meant to be his all along
or
a series of one shots in which your lifetime with Steve Harrington is told through different songs on every Billy Joel album
coming soon
Now Playing: (Songs about us)
1:26 ━━○───── 53:47
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upsidedownmvnson · 7 months
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tell me you love me | steve harrington
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warnings: fluff (warning lol) friends to lovers, idiots to lovers,
a/n: i actually really loved this <3 i hope you do too
tell me you love me vol 2
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Steve Harrington had already tried twice in his life to confess his love for you.
The first time, you two were in the tenth grade and you had just accepted stupid Jack Warren's invitation to prom, so Steve didn't bother. That was back when he was settling into popularity anyway, so he got over it pretty quickly. He was dating Cathy Bartlett the next week.
The second time, Robin had made him pinky promise not to date you. She had held him down, sat on his back and twisted his arm until he pinky swore that he wouldn't do anything to destroy the delicate ecosystem of the friend group. There was already one awkward ex-situation in there.
But Robin was right, you were not like the girls he normally dated. If things went wrong he wouldn't be able to just sweep it under the rug, it could have painful ramifications for all his friends. Although... he didn't actually think it would go that bad. Steve would find his mind wandering on the idea often. He pictured the two of you in the kitchen, side by side cooking dinner and talking about your day. When he thought of you, it felt like home. It felt like somewhere he could build a house and live forever.
If he could only get the words out, he'd realize how quickly you'd accept him. He'd realize he wasn't the only one of you that was stupid in love.
You had been in love with Steve since you could remember. But never once thought he'd shared your interest, not with all the girls around him all the time. The way he shines in their attention and basks in their praise, it's enough to make you sure he's happy with how it is. Or he probably wouldn't have told you all about his date with Debbie Dabbenthorn, right?
Tonight, you, Nancy and Robin were at a party. Something Steve desperately tried to make not happen. But he was working, so there was no one to stop you girls from coaxing each other into drink after drink, which you always did. The three of you always drank too much, and Steve always got stuck trying to coral you and Robin into his car.
At the party, Nancy was handing you another red cup filled to the brim, sloshing over the side and coating your fingers. You hadn't noticed.
"I love when we ditch the boys," Nancy said, smiling as she sipped out of her own solo cup. "It's so fun!"
"Same," Robin said, slinging her arm around Nancy's shoulers, making the two of them sway and laugh. They caught their balance and cheered drinks. "Hey, help me find the bathroom!"
It wasn't hard to find, but it was hard for all three of you to get there without knocking into each other, but it didn't matter. The three of you giggled the whole way, laughing too hard over barely anything. Enjoying the simple joy of being with your friends on a party.
The line for the bathroom was short, only a few people deep. Nancy was grilling Robin on her love life while Robin evaded every question with a vague answer, soon, she turned it onto you, focusing Nancy on the other singler girl in the group.
"Do you not think anyone is cute at least?" Nancy said, not quite believing you when you say you didn't have a crush on anyone at the moment. You shrugged, trying to avoid admitting that it was her ex boyfriend that really turned your head. Robin chuckled, and slid into the bathroom.
You started sipping your drink when Nancy asked, "Not even Steve?" and you nearly choked, but you coughed once and composed yourself. You stared at her, confused as to why she would bring him up.
"You don't have to say anything," she said, and you looked into your cup, noting that you'd need a replacement after this trip. "But it would be okay with me."
Robin opened the bathroom door again, reassembling the trio be throwing her arms around both of your shoulders. "New drinks!" she cheered, steering you all in the direction of the kitchen.
"Drink up," Nancy giggled, "and then let's dance!"
So that's what you did, you guys drank and danced and had a great time. Until Jonathan came to pick up Nancy. That's when you saw that it was after nine, so Steve should've been on the way to come collect you and Robin from your drunken outing. You told Robin again how nice it was for Steve to come get you.
"But c'mon, you love him right?" Robin asked, laughing at your shock.
"I do not love him," you argued, but you did. Robin shrugged, but didn't look convinced. "He just is beautiful, that's all."
"Nah," she said, brushing off the idea with a wave of her hand. "You just love him."
"Do not," you mumbled. But Robin already leaned the other way when Vicki walked up to talk to her. You leaned further into the couch, the ugly thing was very comfortable. Steve should be there any minute.
"Hey," Robin whispered, "Vicki invited me to go with her friends to the lake... Are you gunna be okay here? You're not too drunk are you? Because if you think you can't stay awake, I'll stay of course..."
"Robin, go! I'll be fine for like two minutes..." you slurred, you were pretty drunk but Steve really was going to be there any second.
"Okay!" she didn't have to be told twice before she was scrambling after Vicki in her love-drunk haze. Or maybe just regular drunk, but Robin was feeling giddy anyway.
Steve was running behind because he lost the address that Robin had given him. She'd just ripped off a corner of a piece of paper, and Steve had lost it at some point in his shift. When he finally found the place he was thirty minutes behind.
When he got inside you were curled up on the couch alone, snoozing while some couple made out next to you in the spot Robin had vacated. He smiled when he saw you, and took a knee next to you, trying to wake you up nicely. He stroked your cheek, and tucked some hair behind ear, making you stir softly in your slumber.
"Time to get up," Steve said, "Where's Robin?"
"Went with Vicki," you whispered, rubbing your eyes, smudging whatever makeup wasn't already ruined from the dancing.
"Well, how mean of her to leave you here all alone," he said, running his thumb along your cheek again. "Can't trust you guys alone now though, she did leave you to fall asleep at a house party. That's like really bad, I'm mad at her."
You made a soft noise in response, his stern voice was, not so stern. He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but notice how beautiful he was. Leaning close to you, rubbing your cheek, hair falling perfectly on his forehead and you just wanted to reach up and brush it away like he did. But your hands were wedged under your head, and you were afraid that if you stirred even an inch, he would leave, and this moment would be over.
"Guess you'll just have to make sure you come with us next time," you whispered, eyes bloodshot and glossy from all the alcohol. He thought you were the most beautiful girl in the room. The party was still raging around him, and he easily could've found a place within the girls, but he was content in this moment with you. Your eyes started feeling heavy, and you couldn't stop them from constantly fluttering shut.
“C'mon let me help you up babe,” Steve said, aiding your drunk figure. The nickname made your stomach flip. You were dead weight, giggling as he took care of you and grabbed your things and still found the patience to be kind to you, musing like he was interested in all your drunk babble.
“You're just so pretty, Stevie, it's stupid,” you cooed, finding a place beside him with his arms around you for balance as he lead you, slowly, to his car.
"D-Don't say that stuff," Steve said, voice cracking at the beginning. You were drunk, and it was dark, but you still noticed the blush on Steve's cheeks, and you smiled.
He opened the door for you, and you commented, "so romantic," while holding your hand over your heart, and Steve's heart raced. He went around the trunk of his car to get another second of fresh air, if you saw him in the light you were sure to see the heat he felt in his neck and cheeks. You were flirting with him, and he couldn't contain his excitement every time you complimented him, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes.
The entire trip was like that. From the moment he was in the car you were just a loose cannon of compliments and praises. This combination of him sober and you drunk has never happened while alone before. Were you this flirty with him when he was drunk too?
The answer was yes. The real reason Nancy knew you really wanted Steve was because whenever you two are drunk and together you look like you're in love... because you are. Holding hands, head on shoulder, legs across laps, big bright smiles that made everyone think you were truly, madly, deeply in love. Everything that's just a little too friendly, but never crossing that silly little line that kept you both under the umbrella of just friends.
You were a delight in his passenger seat. He only wished you spoke like this when you were sober, because then maybe he'd know for sure you love him too.
"Hey Steve?" you asked, voice coming out as almost a purr in your sleepy state. Steve's heart melted. "Can I hold your hand?"
"Yeah," he answered, clearing his throat and moving his hand over to your lap, intertwining your fingers. Your hands were cold to the touch, but all you felt was the comforting warmth of him. You were both smiling, goofy grins to match the butterflies in your stomach. "You can hold my hand whenever you like."
You made another happy hum, but said nothing else. The ride was short. No words exchanged, just the quiet songs on the radio, turned low to let you drift off in the passenger seat.
When you got to his house, he parked the car, looking at you. He didn't want to wake you. And he didn't want to let go of your hand. Maybe he should just stay in the car all night.
Of course he didn't do that. Steve weaseled his way out of your grip, not bothering to hide how pleased he was that you whined at the loss of his touch. he helped you out of the car, encouraging you to climb on his back for "an express ride to the VIP bathroom," and he delivered, carrying you, all dead weight and giggling, to the bathroom where he left you to clean up. You put on the clothes he delivered, Plaid pajama pants and a big grey shirt. Well, you put the shirt on, the pajama pants were thrown into the tub, because you couldn't be forced to wear pants.
"Steeeeeve," you slurred, leaving the bathroom, giggling and bumping into the doorframe.
Steve was standing in the doorway to his room, wearing only blue plaid pj pants. His torso on glorious display, while he stood frozen at the sight of you. You stretched your arms over your head, and the shirt rose, exposing your panties to him. He nearly choked looking at you.
"Can I sleep in your room?" you asked, smiling at the effect you had on him. "Look how cute I am," you said, turning around and lifting the shirt while bending over slightly, giving him a perfect view of your ass, with the panties laying deliciously over your cheeks.
"Jesus," he muttered, unable to look away but trying to force himself to. He shouldn't be sneaking a peak while you were this drunk, but in his defence you were the one showing him. "Come to bed, just put your shirt down."
"It's your shirt," you teased, obeying him anyway. You danced behind him into the room, and crawled into bed. It smelled so good, it smelled like him. You could've stayed by Steve's side under these blankets forever.
You lay facing Steve, in his overly big, overly comfortable bed, too tired and drunk to keep your eyes open, but you still try. Steve smiles at your determination to stay awake, he watches your eyes blink quickly, trying to shake the sleep away.
You want to reach over and intertwine your hands, you don’t. He wants to reach out and brush the hair off your forehead and behind your ear, he doesn’t.
“Are we in love, Steve?”
The sharpness of your question cuts him, wounding him in a way he didn’t know was possible. He wanted to speak, but there were no words. No charismatic come back, and no way to avoid the lingering question in the air. Steve holds his tears back. He really did love you.
When your eyes peak open, he’s nodding. His eyes filled with tears that he refuses to let you see, but you see. "Yeah, I think so."
“Why is it so sad?”
“Because we're best friends," he said, "and I can't lose you."
"Tell me you love me," you whispered, silly mood replaced with a tight feeling in your throat, like you were going to cry. But you held it back.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too."
He wanted to cry. He wanted to kiss you. But instead, he just sighed, and found your hand under the sheets, and held it tightly. He was frozen. This was his dream come true, so why did it feel like a nightmare? Like you were right there, but he couldn't have you. Like he was doomed to stay in love with you, and never actually get to be with you.
“I will still love you in the morning whether I say it or not, Stevie.” Your eyes finally started winning the battle, and they stayed closed more than they stayed open, too heavy too fight.
"I know babe," he said, watching as you breathing changed and your eyes didn't open again. "I will too."
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taintedcigs · 2 months
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— cowboy hat rule.
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pairing: cowboy!steve harrington x fem!reader
warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising, kinda degrading but not really, a lil argument, dom!steve, rivals to fcking, swearing, good old bj for our good boy stevie! reader has a nickname 'sunshine' bc i didn't wanna do y/n sorry:(
summary: helping out mr. harrington in his ranch was supposed to be fun, but steve harrington was an asshole. an absolute pain in your ass that teased you, and you gave him the same energy back, always. so when you unknowingly wear his cowboy hat, he decides to teach you what exactly the cowboy hat rule is. (wc: 5k+)
author's note: this is just horny babbling. i have no idea how cowboy lore works so if im wrong pls just close ur eyes i tried to research but i couldnt find shit just pls i just want cowboy steve dick. and ofc no proof-reading bc im lazy as hell. no dividers ugly aesthetic bc of tumblrs f ass not showing my shit in tags SIGH.
also PLSSS LIKE + REBLOG + COMMENT TO SUPPORT ME MWAH ILY
When you told Mr. Harrington you’d be more than happy to help around his Ranch during the summer, you didn’t expect Steve to become a problem, but you were wrong, so fucking wrong. 
A cocky cowboy who’s way too into partying and into his looks and his fluffy hair than you could ever imagine. That’s exactly how you’d describe Steve Harrington. Even though you so badly wanted to believe otherwise, wanted to disregard the rumors and the reputation that came with him. But, he made it so goddamn hard. 
All he fucking did was tease you, complain. Order you around and act like you didn’t know how to do shit. And, you didn’t, but he was supposed to be your guidance, teach you. But all he did was grumble and give you that goddamned smirk. 
Yet, you couldn’t fully hate him, there was a side of him he rarely showed you, one that cared, one that offered you rides—it was more of a mumble each night but you accepted nonetheless, one that ended up at your side whenever an asswipe bothered you at the bar, one that offered you a hand on your back when you were crying, he didn’t ask what happened, didn’t speak, just stood there, letting you spill out your guts. The two of you never spoke about these incidents, ever, because he acted like they didn’t exist, like he couldn’t bear the thought of being nice to you. 
You were so fascinated by him, even though you’d never admit it out loud. He was charismatic, outright funny, and had a heart of gold that you only peered one layer of. 
And fuck it, he was fine, annoyingly good-looking that he was a distraction to be around when you were supposed to be working, him with those sturdy denim jeans that cupped his ass perfectly, wide-brimmed cowboy hat with a creased crown, put perfectly on his head. Even though you’d much rather see his pretty hair falling on his face, run your hands through his smooth layers.
Usually, when it got as hot as it did today, he’d even take off that stupid shirt, feast your eyes with his glimmering chest, all hairy and glistening with sweat, broad shoulders as he ordered everyone around made you gulp. Like he is doing with you, right fucking now. 
“Sunshine, get back to work.” Heat travels to your cheeks quickly, and that stupid nickname rolls off his lips so bitterly, the one he always called you just because you were all nice and smiley—even when he was being an asshole to you, something that grinded his gears, you guessed it was a foreign concept to him, being nice. 
You were quick to shake off the hold he had on you, getting back on your feet as you stood your ground. “I am working! Just needed a second to breathe!” The lies rolled off your lips so simply that you wondered if he caught you staring. When he turned around to leave, you guessed he hadn’t. 
“Asshole.” The insult leaves you before you can register how close Steve still was to you. 
Turning head-spinningly fast. “What did ya say?” He spits, making you gulp physically. 
He looks out of the world stunning when he’s mad, maybe it’s a toxic trait of yours but, fuck, the way his chocolate hues turn unrecognizable, that slight quirk of his brows, and the way his muscles flex in pure anger made you rub your thighs together. 
Jesus Christ. He is getting into your head, and you hate that you think of him this way when he is so mean. 
“Nothing! I’m just saying it’s really hot out today,” you hum, the sun rays hitting your face not making it easier on the heat that flame your cheeks. 
He gives you a snort, all mocking once he takes a step closer, making you feel hotter if that is possible. “Well that’s what happens in the summer, darlin’”
Hand on the wall he tilts his head slightly, all with sass that has you rolling your eyes. “Or did you expect the weather to give Miss Sunshine some sorta special treatment?”
You roll your eyes, an act you always did that makes Steve’s jaw clench. “Oh, come on Steve! It’s really, really, hot, and the sun is all on my face!”
“Boo-hoo, princess,” he mocks, tipping his hat, almost as if to tease you further.
You scoff, getting closer to him. “Easy for you to just stand around in that big hat!” With a narrowed gaze, you cross your arms against your chest, like a brat, another trait that annoyed Steve even further.
Then, you beam again, and Steve knows no matter how much you hate it, Sunshine is absolutely the nickname you deserve, eyes glistening with happiness that it annoyingly even brings a glint to his pretty amber hues. His gaze unintentionally droops down to tour lips, so plushy and soft looking when it curls into that pretty smile that Steve wants to kiss you all over. 
“Oh! Do you mind if I?” You ask all giggly, pointing toward his wide-brimmed hat, hand teasingly standing above his head. 
He scoffs as if you had just asked him the most insulting question ever. “Not a chance,” he spits, now he crosses his arms in front of his chest, eyeing you with a dark glint in his eyes, one you couldn’t decide was full of annoyance or just pure desire. 
“Mhmmm… okay,” you hum, feigning innocence for a second, before snatching it off his head with another hearty giggle.
Oh, what he would do to hear that on a loop, admire the way your lips stretched into the prettiest grin, brows quirked.
“Sunshine!” He chides, much rougher than he intends to, but you don’t pay attention to him when you place the hat carefully on your head, smoothing your hair.
You shrug, looking up at him with those doe eyes that have him melting, everytime, without fail. “Admit it, looks better on me.” You shrug, expecting him to agree.
Instead, he just offers you a deep sigh of breath, eyes almost widening when he realises what you just did. “Do you even—”
He huffs, hiding the obvious pink shade thats starting to color his cheeks, you really had no idea the hold you had on him, did you? “God, you city girls have no idea about anything, huh?”
Your brows furrow. “What?” 
“Cowboy hat rule?” He asks with a tilt of his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.
A teasing smile curves on your plushy lips as you push for more information. “What’s that?”
“Just give me the hat back,” he insists, attempting to mask the warmth that crept into his tone.
With a shake of your head, your defiance only grows, a glint of mischief dancing in your gaze. “Not until you tell me the rules.” 
“Sunshine,” he warns, voice so grumbly that heat travels all over your body quicker than the sun burning you. 
“Steve?” You hum with a flirty gaze, so teasing that Steve wants to fuck you right then and there, until he teaches you proper manners, until he shows you not to be a total fucking brat and not to roll your eyes at him, until he shows you that you’re his. 
But, of course, he settles on a low grumble of, “You’re annoying.”
“You used to be more creative with the insults, Harrington.” Another teasing remark, and Steve rolls his tongue inside of his mouth. 
With a smirk, he takes another step toward you, when your back hit the walls of the barn, only then you realise, he has you cornered. “You wanna know the cowboy hat rule, princess?” He asks all smugly.
Gaze meaner than he is, chest almost pressed against yours, voice so low that all you can do is slightly nod. 
Your breath gets hitched in your throat when his face is mere inches away from yours, hot breath fanning against your cheeks, skin heating on the impact, that brattiness you wear as a mask quick to slip off when he’s all demanding. “You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” His tone is almost a growl, pupils blown wide, making you gulp, physically.
“What?” You blink, unsure of what he’s actually asking. Excitement jumping around in your tummy. 
“You heard me. Wanna take me for a ride, Sunshine?” He is so goddamn close that you are sure he can hear the annoying tumble your heart does at the weight of what his words hold. 
It makes you pause, gaze sticking on his, sometimes slipping away to his soft lips, almost to signal him of something, but all you can do is try to hide the embarrassment that burns your cheeks. 
“Didn’t think so,” he scoffs, backing away just slightly. 
His cowboy hat is too big on your head, tipping low over your eyes, possibly hiding your nervousness as you mutter, “What if I do?”
With a smooth motion, he flips it off from your head, holding it with his palm, away from you. “Get back to work, Sunshine.”
“I’m serious—”
“So am I, those horses ain’t gonna straddle their strap themselves, off. to. work,” he hisses, turning to leave.
You huff, heat still burning off your cheeks, more embarrassed than annoyed, yet you still don’t have it in yourself to let it go, you can’t let him have this. Win this.
Quick to snatch the hat back, “So the hat rule is, wear the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy, huh?” You mumble behind him, your voice failing you, yet you appear to be giggly, and Steve heaves a deep sigh of breath, before fully turning to you.
He halts a bit when he sees you once again, in his hat, tipped low, that stupidly addicting smirk gracing your slightly-open lips, hand on your hips, and all he wants to do is fuck you till you lose that attitude of yours. 
“Stop,” he warns, taking a step closer to you but with a shake of your head you back away, and he sighs, loud and annoyed. 
“Gimme that, sunshine!”
“Nuh-uh.” All teasing and bratty, and grating on Steve’s last nerve. You know this, yet you wanna keep pushing him, further and further, until he snaps, until he can’t take it anymore. You have no reason to do this, you’re supposed to hate him, think of him as an annoying asshole.
But the two of you are finally tethering on that line, the line between purely teasing each other out of spite, to teasing each other out of flirting, you know that, and you don’t wanna take a step back. “Prove it.”
You are all up in his face, and all he can do his roll his eyes, cheeks beetle red, frustration worn on his face. “Knock it off.”
You tut gently, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Not until you—” Your words are interrupted quickly when he snatches up the hat from your head in annoyance, making you gasp when he discarded it easily.
“Get back to work!” His voice raises, and it makes you take a deep breath.
Shit, did you fuck this up?
“What?” You question, entire body feeling dizzy. He takes a step closer.
“You heard me.”
Another step closer, his breaths come out in short gasps, frustration taking over him. “Get back to fuckin’ work, before I can’t stop myself.”
He is close. Too fucking close, and you can’t help the way your gaze droops down to his soft lips, slightly parted open, downturned from frustration. God, you realize how hot he is when he is angry, once again. “F—from what?”
He hesitates, before licking his lips. This is it. He wants, no, he desperately needs you. Needs to put you to your place. Teach you what happens to bratty girls like you. Show you what exactly the stupid rule is. “From fucking you in this goddamn barn.”
You release the breath you’ve been holding back, feeling small, so small under his gaze. Mouth hanging open, and all you want is him to pin you against the wall, have you screaming out his name. “From making sure I show you how the goddamn cowboy hat rule works.”
Your back is plastered against the wall, his hands are by your side, you are caged beneath him, chest rising in anticipation. “Is that what you want, honey, think you can handle all of that?” He’s so smug, and you don’t know what overtakes you when he’s all in control like this, you wanna obey him, make him happy, proud, so you bite back on your insults.
His smirk is dangerously alluring, and you’re under his spell. 
“Please,” you beg, heat finds your cheeks again, you hate the hold he has on you.
He barks out a chuckle, so mean, yet as equally hot. “Please, what? Speak up,” he spits, rolling his tongue inside of the roof of his mouth, lips wearing a smirk.
“Ruin me,” your voice is small, meek, yet it makes him groan. 
You’re such a good girl for him, and he wants nothing more than to ruin you. Fully. Completely. Ruin you for every other man. 
His head ducks down to your neck, leaving a sloppy kiss before leaning into your ear, his breath hot on your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Goddamit darlin’, you gonna be the death of me, huh?”
You don’t—you can’t answer, you’re speechless, rubbing your thighs together desperately, seeking some friction, a touch, anything. 
He levels with you again, dangerous gaze on your lips, fingertips brushing against your cheeks teasingly “You know what I always wanted to do, sunshine?” He coarses lowly. 
“W—what?” You ask with a gulp, lips twitching with need. 
He gives you another grin, that asshole. The pad of his thumb slowly caressing your lips now, making you shiver with hunger. “Always wanted to put you to your place, you and that damn smart mouth, always runnin’ it for no good reason. I’d give you a good reason for those pretty lips, huh? Use it the way I wanna use it, fill it the way I wanna feel it,” he grunts like he said the most normal thing, yet you’re already squirming, wanting to open your lips, take his fingers in your mouth and suck on them, show him how much of a good girl you can be for him.
He has you on such a hold already, and you can’t complain. For someone who seemed to be annoyed—hell, even hated him a few minutes ago, you feel crazy, batshit insane, all you want is him.  
His fingertips play with your lips all teasingly, pupils blown wide, the other hand caresses your hair so possessively that you melt into his touch. “You gonna be good for me sweet thing?”
He doesn’t have to ask you twice. “Y—yes, sir.”
Sir. 
Godfuckingdammit. You don’t know the hold you have on him, do you?
He bites back on the moan that rumbles in his throat, instead settling on a, “Good girl.” Your puppy dog eyes glint at the praise, and he makes a mental note of it. . 
“Get on your knees f’me, darlin’,” he grumbles, and you’re quick to obey, not minding the uncomfortable feeling of the wooden floors scraping your knees, or the fact that anyone might’ve walked in, the door was locked, and there was probably no one around yet Mr. Harrington might’ve returned to the ranch at any moment. But he made you feel safe, somehow. 
You look up at him with those doe-eyes again, making him suck in a breath before he unbuttons his jeans and pushes them off his hips, boxers so tight around his hard cock that he grunts involuntarily.  
Your eyes go wide the second his erection springs free, almost hitting the tip of your nose, red, angry and leaking with pre-cum, he lets out a chuckle at your expression before grabbing the base of his cock. 
Same eyes, looking up at him all hungrily, Steve feels the way blood rushes quickly to his cock, making him harder if that's even possible, with a groan he runs the leaking tip across your lips. “Open up.”
Your hand replaces his quickly, and he runs his fingers through several strands of your hair, teaching you how exactly he wants you. 
You open your mouth wide, just like he likes it, tongue giving his slit kitten licks, moaning at the taste of his salty pre-cum, wrapping your plushy lips around his thick head, and sucking the life out of him, determined, and feigning innocence with the soft gaze you held. 
Head thrown back, heavy boots planted on the harsh ground, he lets out a low groan, stroking your hair all softly. “Look at you s’pretty like this for me.”
His hand wraps tighter around your hair, pushing you onto him, making sure you gag a little and that only spurs you on, making you whine around his cock, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Cat got your tongue, darlin’?” He chuckles all meanly. 
“God, do you have any idea how many times I wanted to shut up that bratty mouth like this?” He asks with grunts leaving his open mouth, hand working harshly around your head, mouth feeling like heaven the more you bob around his thick length, struggling to take all of him. 
“Those pretty lips are—mmpf, shit—better stuffed with my cock than being a spoiled lil’ city girl runnin’ her mouth, ain’t that right, baby?” You nod meekly, angelic eyes seeking for his validation before you flatten your tongue around the sensitive part of his tip, struggling to take all of him in your mouth. Earning guttural moans, eyes squeezed shut as he feels your soft lips wrapped around him again.
“Fuck, sweet thing.” You can feel his filthy grunts straight in your core, all low and lewd that you almost moan around him again, he puts one hand on the wall, helping himself to better move in and out of your throat. 
He knows if you keep this up, he’ll cum right and there, and fuck, he needs that. But he needs to be inside of you more. 
You keep up your stroking, now adjusting yourself properly to start licking and sucking on his balls. “Sunshine, you need to s—stop,” the words barely leave his lips, he so doesn’t want you to stop. But, he needs to cum inside of you. 
Yet, you don’t listen to him as your movement speeds up, determined to feel his load warming your throat, make him proud, and your mouth bobs harder around his length, making him growl at you harshly. “Sunshine,” he warns, pulling you by your hair. 
You’re quick to take a deep breath of air once he pulls you off, looking up at him with the perfect innocent eyes, your lips wearing the prettiest pout. “Was that not good for you, Stevie?” 
Stevie. That nickname makes his head spin faster, all he wants to do is fuck you against those stupid rustic walls, have you screaming out for him, the whole ranch filled with your filthy noises, no one was around anyway.
“You kiddin’, sweetheart?” He gives you a chuckle, wrapping his hands around your jaw, pulling you off the floor. 
“You were fuckin’ amazing,” he hums, leaning down to kiss you, tasing the salty semen on your tongue. 
His hands are quick to travel along to your waist, fingertips finding their way onto your panties rather quickly, earning a gasp out of you. “Need to be in here first, honey.”
You nod, so quickly that you can feel him grinning into the kiss, his hands are everywhere, yours are more or less the same, quick to get rid of his top, to feel his toned chest in your soft hands, your top is sprawled right next to his, revealing your pink and gold bra at him, breasts peeking out just enough to have him groan, big hands quick to get rid of them. 
He has you caged against the amber walls, back hitting the rough material, making you hiss. Your skin heats at the impact, it’s filthy, lewd, and so public, but none of you even care enough to break the kiss. He settles between your thighs, his pants drooped to his ankles, hands rubbing across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
The sight of you so easily submitting to him, makes his cock grow harder than he thought was possible, looking so ethereal that Steve forgets all about everything else. “Sunshine,” he breathes, hands fiddling with the hem of your panties. 
“Mhmm,” is all you can muster, legs slightly open for him, and he almost feels possessive over you, it’s entirely stupid, but he looks so fucking alluring with those dark chestnut eyes, layered hair a mess, and cock weeping entirely with the thought of you. 
His thumb runs over the seam of your pussy, just a glimpse of how his fingers are going to ruin you, and you pulse and clench against him already. Wet. Drenched. And all ready to take him. “You’re soaked,” he groans.
Leaning further into your ear, “is that all for me, honey?” he rasps, desperate, needing your confirmation. 
Heat grows in your cheeks faster than a scorching day in July, and he grins, again, all cocky and proud. “Yes,” you admit meekly, and Steve’s quick to kiss your worries away. 
“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he growls, swirling your wetness up and around your slit, almost toying with you, having you desperately mewl for him. 
He can’t put his finger on it, what it is that draws him this much into you, but he’s hooked, so goddamn obsessed that he feels like an idiot, for being this much of an asshole, for acting like a grade school boy who’s pulling the pigtails of his crush. Like a stupid cliche. 
“Stevie.” That nickname, again. Godfuckingdammit, Steve thinks. You have him so wrapped around your finger, it’s like a prayer, and he’s sure you’re not aware of it. And it drives him even crazier. “Please.”
“Talk to me.” His voice is low, lips now nipping at your neck, suckling, giving you all the marks you need. 
“I need you,” you hum, eyes squeezed shut, desperate. His finger discard your panties and slide easily inside of you, your back is fully dipped into the well-worn walls with how good he feels, his thick fingers making their way in and out of your soppy cunt, whines leave your lips faster than you can comprehend. 
“Ruin me, Steve, fully, completely.” You don’t know how those words leave past your lush lips, but your thighs ache with need, cunt throbbing for him and him only. 
His eyes widen quickly, pure hunger quick to fill his veins, mouth hanging open, curses leaving his lips at how forward you are being. “Show me the cowboy hat rule, sir.” 
Steve all but groans, mouth harshly on yours again, chests pressed together and you can feel how hard he truly is, rock stiff, and aching to be inside of you. The sheer size of how he feels against your thighs almost makes your eyes bulge again. 
His fingers stop moving in and out of you, before you can whine, he spins you around so fast that you gasp loudly, hands immediately plastered on the wall, pleasure and excitement fills your tummy, but the fact that he’s seeing you all vulnerable like this is embarrassing enough that you try to close your legs. 
He’s quick to stop you with a grin, rough hands landing on the back of your thighs, spreading them open while tutting you. “Nuh-uh. Don’t get all shy now, princess. Spread them open f’me.” You spread them a little, cunt throbbing with how close his fingers are. 
He groans again once he fully gets a view of you like this, face down, ass up, your pussy slicked with your juices, at his mercy. “‘M gonna ruin you, honey, don’t you worry.” A dark chuckle barks out from his chest, sending chills down your spine, almost making you whine. 
Fuck. 
His hands are rough when he has you by your waist, bruising almost. Lining his cock in front of your slick core, he swipes the head of his reddened tip inside of you with one forceful thrust. Your plushy lips open slightly, stealing your breath away as you try to adjust to his size.
Shit, shit, shit, he feels even better than you fucking expected.
His cock splits you open, filling every goddamn inch of you. You don’t know how many times you thought this, but, shit, he’s as big as the gossip in this small town says he is. 
His thrusts are slow, grunts so loud and heavenly that it spurs you on more and more. His weight on you, the bruising hold. You feel him everywhere. On your back, hips, and fucking inside of you.
“F-fucking, fuck!” he growls, leaving nibbles all over your shoulder and back, even with the fact that this was Steve, and he was rough and filthy, it was wildly intimate, so wildly intimate that you could feel your heart pounding inside of your chest. 
“How are you this fuckin’ tight, s-sweetheart?” One of his hands travel up to your neck, roughly holding you down, hips slamming into you with such force that you cry out.
He watches the way his girthy cock disappears in and out of you, wetting himself with your juices, filling every inch of you. “Doin’ s’good for me, princess.” His praises are heavenly, making your chest swell with pride.
He moves inside of your soppy cunt with short thrusts. Completely bottomed out, thrusting against the same sensitive spot every time as his balls, heavy with cum grind against your clit, with each movement, making you cry out his name, babbles leaving your mouth. “Yeah, you like this don’t ya? Want me to ruin this slutty pussy, huh? Ruin it for every other men?”
You nod all dumbly, yet, it isn’t enough for him. He wants to hear you, have you scream it out. “Say it, sweet thing, fuckin’ say it,” he groans, coarse voice making tingles appear everywhere on your skin. 
“I-I love it, Stevie, want you to ruin me for everyone else, mmpf,” you moan all fucked out, eyes rolled all the way back to your head, hips desperately grinding against him for some more friction. 
He picks up his pace, fucking into you with reckless abandon.“F-fuck doll, won’t last if you keep runnin’ that dirty mouth.” 
But his words just encourage you to keep going, gasps coming out in short breaths as you manage to drive him crazier. “All yours, sir, all yours.” 
He grunts at that, one of his arms snaking around and under your hips to find a better angle, lifting you up so that he can fuck his cock deeper into you, make you feel how fucking big he really is. “That’s right, baby, it’s all fuckin’ mine.”
Hot tears spill down your cheeks, entire body burning with it. The slick sounds of his hips driving into you, your moans, his low groans are all that fill the room. So fucking filthy, and you can feel yourself clenching around him. 
It’s all too much; his hands everywhere, the lewd noises he makes, how deep his girthy cock is bottomed out inside of you, making you feel every ridge. It’s fucking perfect, and you desperately need to cum. 
And of fucking course, Steve can feel your pussy gripping him, so tight that he knows he’s gonna cum right after you do. “Gonna cum f’me, huh? Such a good girl,” he praises, again, knowing the effect it has on you and all you can do is gasp and weakly nod. 
One of his thumbs quickly finds your clit, making your pussy throb around him in pure ecstasy, all the overstimulation enough to have you crying like a bitch in heat. “Give it to me, angel,” he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses everywhere on your skin.   
His movements pick up, padded thumb rubbing circles around your clit, the other hand landing on your nipples, twisting them while pumping into you, it’s all too much that it makes you sob and beg for him. 
“Cream my cock, let me ruin you completely, darlin’” It’s all the confirmation you need as your orgasm builds and washes through you, body exploding with pleasure, spreading through your skin as you scream out his name. 
Your pussy squeezes and pulses around his cock, and he fucking knows, he won’t last, not in the slightest. “S-shit, sweet thing, gonna make me cum with all those filthy noises.” 
“Want that, honey, hmm? Wanna be filled with my cum? Show everybody in this town who owns ya? Owns this tight lil’ cunt?” He feels it, that pure hunger for you over taking him, coarse voice, dark eyes, like a man possessed. His fingers dig further into your skin as he desperately chases his orgasm, enjoying the sloppy sounds your pussy makes as he drives into you.
“P-please, Stevie, n-need your cum,” you weakly hum. And it fucking breaks him. Hips losing all rhythm when he spills his warm load into you, twitching inside of you once he pumps you full of his cum. 
“Jesus fucking Christ, Sunshine,” he breathes, collapsing on your back, both of you trying to come down from the high. He slips free of you slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs, making him grin proudly. 
“S-steve,” you weakly murmur, collapsing in his arms. He holds you down, slight kisses left on your back, delicate in a way you have never seen him before. Yet, the two of you don’t mention it, “let me take you home,” he mutters, a gentle hold on you that makes you feel warm.
“N-no.”
“No?” Intrigued, his breath gets caught in his throat, the look you give him is so sultry that the blood rushes to his cock in an instant again. Fucking fuck, what have you done to him.
“We still haven’t followed the rules,” you purr sweetly, causing him to raise his brows in excitement, tempting him further and further. 
“The rule was wear the hat, ride the cowboy, wasn’t it?” You question with a slight grin, eyes lulled, still fucked out. 
Your fingertips gently grazed against his chest, hairy and slicked with sweat, his sudden dominance fading when you were so quick to switch from begging to cum underneath him to gaining that flirty, giddy personality again. Already leaving him a mess. “Y-yeah,” he murmured, watching you hungrily, his cock already weeping again. 
“Then, sit down and lemme take care of you, cowboy,” you ordered again, shuddering breaths leaving him in an instant.   
Now you were going to ruin him.
Fully.
Completely.
And Steve couldn’t be more infatuated. You were truly his demise.   
1K notes · View notes
andvys · 1 month
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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And my, my love had been frozen. Deep blue, but you painted me golden.
Warnings: 18+, mdni! there will be smut in the future chapters. enemies to lovers, 'she fell first, he fell harder' kind of trope, allusions to unrequited love, mentions of death, injuries, allusions to self hatred, mentions of bullying, this story is set post s4, Vecna and the upside down are gone. slow burn. ‘hate’ sex. fwb kinda thing but they’re ‘enemies’. mean!reader, mean!Steve, hurt/comfort, happy ending.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: 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?
Prologue
Chapter one ⭐︎ Waiting Room
Chapter two ⭐︎ I want you to notice, when I’m not around
Chapter three ⭐︎ So if you need to be mean, be mean to me
Chapter four ⭐︎ Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
Chapter five ⭐︎'Cause you know it could never be
Chapter six ⭐︎ Secrets I have held in my heart
Chapter seven ⭐︎ Got a feeling your electric touch, could fill this ghost town up with life
Chapter eight ⭐︎ Say my name and everything just stops
Chapter nine ⭐︎ And I'll show you if you let me, girl
Chapter ten ⭐︎ Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning (coming soon...)
2K notes · View notes
thelostmagicians · 5 months
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Love Comes In Threes | Steve Harrington
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Summary: Steve Harrington loves you, he just can't say it. [2k]
Fluff, comfort, slight angst, emotionally/verbally constipated Steve
The last time Steve Harrington said I love you to someone she ripped out his heart and left with the boy she told him not to worry about. 
He doesn’t remember the last time he said it to his parents, only that he stopped trying after he kept getting the dial tone in response to his feelings. 
So you weren’t exactly surprised or upset when he kissed you instead of saying it back 6 months into your relationship. 
_
The first time you said I love you to Steve it was a stormy evening. The both of you agreed to take things slow, wounds from the past still open and healing. But he just looked so handsome that night with his hair tousled in a perfect mess, red creeping on his cheeks from the cold air as the both of you raced towards his car trying to protect yourselves from the rain. He turned the heat on as he took your hands in his in an effort to warm you up. You tried to hold it in, you swear you did, but the love you had for him weighed down on you like an anchor and you thought if you didn’t tell him that second you were going to drown in your own feelings. 
“I love you,” you had whispered as he continued rubbing his fingers over yours. He paused his actions, shyly looking up. The red on his cheeks could no longer be blamed on the cold because now he was feeling as the sun was glowing warm in his heart. 
“You sure?” he asked you. Instead of answering you kissed him, hoping your lips would act as a spout and pour how you felt directly into him.   
You knew that like you, Steve had been hurt in the past so when he pulled you in for another kiss instead of saying it back you never questioned him. 
_
But that was a year ago. 
Almost two years into the relationship and Steve still hasn’t said I love you back. Every time he hears it fall from your lips, he’ll just give your hand a squeeze and carry on. You want to think it isn’t a big deal. You try to convince yourself that the L word isn’t necessary in your relationship, not when you share a home, a bed, secrets, and, hopefully, a family in the future. But no matter how hard you try to ignore your feelings it still leaves you disappointed when you see couples everywhere throw the three words around like they’re playing catch. It’s an endless cycle of disappointment for not hearing it, guilt for questioning the love Steve has for you, and frustration for why it mattered so much.
“As someone who Steve previously loved, do you think he actually loves me or is he just… settling?”
Your question makes Nancy freeze, the book she was previously trying to shove back in the shelf falls with a loud thud. She throws an apologetic smile at the librarian who shakes her head in disapproval. 
“What are you even talking about?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I brought it up. But I was just thinking, Steve loved you Nance. He told you he loved you. It’s been years and people still remember how broken he was after you left. Like if I left would he be just as sad or would he be okay.”
“Are you planning on leaving Steve?” Nancy stutters out.
“Well no…definitely no. It just makes me wonder if people can see that Steve loves me or if they think of me as the passerby keeping him from you while you were the one that got away. Whenever I tell someone I’m dating Steve all I ever hear is good on him for moving on, poor thing was a wreck after Nancy Wheeler left.”
Nancy picks up her stack of books as she leads you to the front desk, “Look what Steve and I had was over before we both even realized it was over. He loves you, I think… I think he loves you more than he could’ve ever loved me. And why do you even care what people think? These are the same people who think Robin is a sinner and that my parents are happily married.”
You roll your eyes in affection as you help her with her books. “I guess you’re right…” you trail off as your eye catches a magazine. In big bold letters you read 100 Different Signs Your Man Loves You.
“Oh please you can’t be serious.”
You give her a sheepish smile as you check out your rental and head back home. 
The magazine was utter trash. It had nothing, but surface value declarations that did nothing to soothe your worries. You stopped reading after sign 8 when it said Ladies if your man compliments your cooking, then it means he’s thinking about locking it down! Because remember a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!
Your Steve wasn’t like this. Your Steve was the kind of guy who knew you were having a bad day before you even had the chance to tell him. Your Steve was the kind of guy who would willingly wake up early and go out into snow just to heat up your car so you won’t have to drive in the cold. 
You sigh as you toss the magazine in the back of the car making a mental note to drop it off at the library on your way to pick up Robin for your girls day.
You honk twice in front of Vickie’s house before Robin comes bolting down the driveway, shoes in hand and trying to wrestle her jacket on. She gives you a wave before climbing in and greeting you with a tight hug. 
“I see your sleepover went well,” you tease. 
Before she can tease back Vickie knocks on the window prompting Robin to roll it down. 
“Hi, Vickie” you smirk up at her, eyes darting to the purple bruise under her ear that she poorly tried to conceal with makeup. 
She waves shyly, “Robin… I forgot to say,” she looks at you nervously, “Nevermind, just I’ll see you tomorrow.” She quickly kisses Robin’s cheek and scurries back inside. 
“So… what was that whole thing with Vickie about?” you try to ease in. 
Robin bumps her head on the window when you pull into a parking spot, “Oh Vickie? She’s still nervous about saying the L word publicly so that’s what she was doing.”
“At least she’s saying it privately,” you huff under your breath. 
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing, I was just asking how she says it in public if she isn’t comfortable?”
“You know the cheek kisses she gave, that was it.”
You quickly put the shirt you’re holding back on the rack before looking at Robin confused. “What do you mean, is that your guys’ secret language?”
Robin laughs, pulling up a skirt to herself. “No silly, haven’t you ever heard the saying love comes in threes. When you touch someone three consecutive times it’s the equivalent of I. Love. You. Hence three cheek kisses equal an I love you.”
“That’s so cute,” you squeal, squeezing her arm and testing it out for yourself. 
She squeezes back instantly, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it, considering Steve’s the one that introduced me to it.”
Your steps falter behind her. “Hang on, Steve? My Steve, told you that?”
“Yeah, he said his Nana used to do it when they were kids or something like that. Told me before I told Vickie I loved her. Do you think this skirt is cute or should I save my money for a Madonna tape?”
Robin keeps rambling as you stay in place, your thoughts spiraling. Her confession makes you think about every single time Steve’s ever touched you. Every morning before you part ways how he pecks your lips once, twice, and a little longer the third time. How he squeezes your waist three times when he walks past you to get his favorite mug. How he reaches for your thigh, hand, anything he can get ahold of just to get three squeezes in. How he taps your arm in his sleep, again always in threes. You would stay up trying to figure out what song his taps represent before eventually drifting off yourself.   
This whole time you were waiting for Steve to verbally express his love when he was doing it quietly in his own way, more often than you ever did. 
You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel a tear slowly drip down your neck. 
“Hey what’s wrong are you okay?” Robin asks frantically. She drops her bags, hands squeezing your arms and eyes darting around for any signs of danger. 
You nod through your tears, “I’m okay, can we just go. I have to get home, I know it’s crazy but…”
Robin nods, grabbing your arm and leading you to the exit. 
The car ride back home is quiet, Robin didn’t even whisper a goodbye when she left simply settling with a quick peck to your forehead and soft smile. 
Your thoughts feel overwhelming like everything is going a mile a minute when you think about Steve. You think about your first date, your second, and your third and so on. How Steve ended every night with three of something. 
Your body is on autopilot as you make your way through the front door. Keys tossed in the bowl, coat hung up, and shoes thrown off. 
“Hey baby, you alright? Robin called asking if you were okay.” A concerned Steve comes into your vision, he quickly wipes his hands on the kitchen towel before flinging it over his shoulder and kissing you. Once, twice, and thrice.
Your hard stare makes him nervous, he’s never seen you like this before. “Honey,” he whispers out.
You take a deep breath in, “You never said I love you to me, not after I said it first, not even when you asked me to move in.” You pause trying to compose yourself while Steve avoids your gaze. “This whole time I thought you didn’t love me like you should, that you loved me, but you weren’t in love with me.”
Steve lifts his head up, baffled, he goes to argue until you lift your hand up signaling him to wait. 
“Robin told me something about how love comes in threes, today. How three taps, or any kind of touch in rapid succession three times is the equivalent of an I love you,” he finally meets your gaze as you slowly walk over to him, tugging on his waist to hold him as close as possible. “You told me you loved me on our first date, you told me the night we had our first kiss, you told me on our anniversary. And you tell me everyday. I don’t think there’s an hour that goes by without you telling me.”
Steve pulls you into his chest before gently lifting your head and kissing you three times. You giggle at the not-so-secret-anymore gesture. “I’m trying. I really am trying hard to say it, but I do. I really do. I want you to know how important you are, but I’m also scared. So I guess this was my way of saying it, reminding myself that when I do eventually say the words… you won’t leave.” 
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry for not seeing your love. For not understanding that even though you love me quietly you love me the most. Your love is in the tiny but grand gestures that I take for granted, but would miss deeply if I didn’t have it. I don’t need the words anymore Steve, I just need you because you love me more than I ever thought was possible and that’s enough. You’re enough.”
He squeezes your shoulder three times before whispering the words you’ve always wanted to hear from him. 
They say love comes in threes and your love with Steve may be quiet, but it’s everywhere. 
1K notes · View notes
loveshotzz · 6 months
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{ trying } a new position with them
I have this in my mind with AIRWIY!Steve, ‘cause I know he’s so soft during sex and you do it in missionary or you ride him, but then you ask him if he will take you from behind (feel free to change) and be a little rough🥹
Hi angel! thank you for your request 💗 I hope you enjoy. This is a request is from my All I Really Want Is You series but can be read as a stand alone.
older!steve harrington x fem!reader
warnings: 18+ established relationship, smut, dirty talk, cream pie, age gap.
wc: 1.3k
authors note: for those that read the series this takes place during the gap between chapter ten and the epilogue. the relationship is still new and they are trying new things 🧡
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Something felt different about tonight.
You think it might’ve been the fancy cocktails that were stronger than normal, and the dim lighting of The Violet Hour that danced across Steve’s sharp features. Or his big hand that stayed high on your thigh through the entirety of dinner. Salt and pepper scruff tickling your cheek every time he leaned in to whisper low in your ear. 
Maybe it was the lemon zest still fresh on his tongue when he licked into your mouth at the end of your date pressing you against your front door. Whatever it was Steve Harrington made your body feel like it was on fire tonight, embers burning in the pit of your stomach waiting to combust with every touch. 
The roll of his hips only stokes the flames when he’s buried to the hilt inside of you after barely making it to your bed, leaving a trail of clothes in your wake. His full weight keeps you pressed into the mattress, with your knee hooked over the crook of his elbow. The tip of him hitting the spot that makes your back arch with every slow stroke over and over again, but god, it wasn’t enough. You needed more.
That loose strand falls damp across his forehead, a bead of sweat dangerously close to falling off the end. His eyes never leave yours, the black of his pupils making the gold and moss colored flecks disappear. Lips brushing with every thrust, the whiskey on his breath mingles with the pineapple on yours, while your nails dig half crescent moons into the constellations on his back.
He shifts hitting a different spot when he drives back in, and it makes your jaw go slack. Steve takes advantage, tracing your top lip with his tongue while the tip of his nose bumps into yours. He starts a slow grind instead of pulling out, the dark thatch of hair that frames the part of him hugged tight by your walls rubs against your clit in a way that has his name sound like a prayer. But it still wasn’t enough. Not even when your hands make their way down, fingers digging into the soft dough of his ass to try and coax him even deeper.
“Fuck - honey,” He grunts, pushing in as far as he can, eyes rolling in the back of his head when you nip at his bottom lip, recently discovering how much he liked it when you did that.
“I need - “ You start but a quick snap of his hips steals the breath out of your lungs for a second.
“What do you need?” His brows furrow when you flutter around him, watching the way your eyes glaze over when he hits that spot again, “tell me, I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“I - I want- I want you to fuck me from behind.” The words make the grind of his hips falter, the black of his eyes turning into an abyss. 
“Yeah?” Steve sounds breathless when he finally comes back to his body.
Biting your bottom lip between your teeth, all you can do is nod, a shy smile playing at the corners of your mouth despite feeling the twitch of him inside of you. He rolls his hips again, something smug flickering in his eyes when he sees the way it makes your face crumble.
“Whatever you want, pretty girl.” He rubs the tip of his nose with yours before he starts to slowly pull out. Cursing under his breath, the feeling of your walls trying to suck him back in is almost enough for him to cum. 
You shudder at the feeling of being so empty when he sits back on his haunches, long fingers wrapping around his cock, stroking himself as he watches you get on all fours for him. He’s never seen you presented to him like this, and he almost cums again in the span of a minute.
“Jesus Christ, look at you.” He sounds wrecked when he talks, and when you peek over your shoulder at him, he looks it too.
Wiggling your hips, his free hand finds the soft fat of your ass, while his strokes with his other get quicker. He squeezes at the dough of it, groaning when he sees the way you’re dripping down your thighs. The precum that leaks from his fat tip mixes with your slick as he drags himself through your folds, a lewd squelching noise filling your room when he does it over and over again. 
“Steve - fuck - please, please.” Your fingers tangle into your sheets, pushing your hips back into his for more when he adds pressure to your bundle of nerves before catching at your entrance.
“Shhh, It’s okay, I got you, I got you.” He coos when the tip of him breaches your walls, both hands finding the curve of your hips. “Gonna take all of me like the tough girl you are, aren’t you baby?” 
“Yeah, yeah, yeah” Too cock drunk not to babble when he pushes half way in, the lingering effects of the drinks you had at dinner has your body ignited. You’ve never felt so full and it’s not even all of him.
“God, you’re so wet. Always so wet for me.” He groans with one final roll of his hips, burying himself as far as he can go, the stretch making you keen the heat inside your belly turning white.
He doesn’t move, letting your body adjust to the length of him like this, fingers digging into the soft skin of your sides hard enough to bruise. Your walls won’t stop clenching and it makes him twitch. He leans over earning him a soft ‘oh’ from you at the feel of him somehow pushing deeper, warm lips trailing kisses up your spine, leaving more over the hard plain of your shoulder blade before stopping at the shell of your ear.
“You ready honey?” 
He can’t see the way the deep baritone makes your eyes hit the back of your head, and all you can do is nod. He gives a smug kind of chuckle that you’ve never heard before, pulling himself back up. His hands squeeze at you one more time, a low breath escaping through his nose while he takes in the sight in front of him. 
“Ste-“ His name dies on your tongue when he pulls almost all the way out, before a rough snap of his hips pushes him all the way back in. “Oh my god!’
Steve’s never heard you make sounds like this for him before and he thinks he might lose his mind, something primal unlocking deep inside his brain. The softness he’s always treated you with is replaced by the animalistic need to fill you to the brim. The springs of your mattress squeak loudly under his knees, the head board he helped you set up after a trip to Ikea smacking against your wall with every harsh thrust. 
“Gonna make you mine, yeah? You want that?” He doesn’t sound like the man who leaves you silly notes with all his gifts, his voice is rough just like his touch. The hair on his thighs rubbing against the wet backs of yours.
“Please, yeah, it’s all - fuck, fuck, yeah it’s all I want Steve, please.” You're babbling now too close to worry about how you sound with your cheek pressed to the mattress as he holds your hips up. The grip on your sheets is tight enough to pull them off the corners of your bed, and the fire that's threatened to consume you finally does when the tip of him hits a spot he’s never found before. “Oh god, i‘m gonna - Steve! -i’mgonnacum!”
He keeps his unrelenting pace watching the way your eyes screw shut, and your jaw go slack. A shudder rolling through your body, toes curling while your walls milk him with the strength of your orgasm. 
“Oh fuck - honey.” Steve’s loud when he paints your insides white, the warmth of him filling you up until it drips down your thighs is enough to make you moan with him at the feel of it, aftershocks running though your fingertips that grasp at anything.
The blunt ends of his nails dig into your hips, his body staying ridgid as he tries to get a grip. Yours is limp in his hands, eyes slowly blinking while everything comes back into focus. When he finally regains enough brain power, he leans forward again, trailing lazy wet kisses up your spine that make the corners of your lips twitch before he stops at your ear.
“So we’re absolutely going to get drinks there again.” 
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supernovafics · 1 month
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a lazy morning with boyfriend!steve (18+)
wc: 964
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
it was a soft stroke against your cheek and a featherlight kiss against your forehead that pulled you from your sleep.
your eyes fluttered open and you saw steve, who had the sweetest smile on his face. you would’ve been at least a little annoyed at him for waking you up right then, at a time that you knew was way too early, if it weren’t for that smile.
the soft glow of the early morning sun poured through the curtainless windows in his bedroom. if it hadn’t been steve waking you up right then, you knew that in a couple of minutes it would’ve been the sun when it hit his bed almost too perfectly. you’d much rather have a wake up call from your boyfriend than the sunlight that felt incessant this early in the morning. 
you let out a soft groan and pulled the blanket over your heads, enveloping you both in some darkness. “i really need to get you some curtains.” 
“you mean us. you need to get us some curtains.” 
“i technically don’t live here.” 
your boyfriend shifted closer to you, lips brushing against your forehead once again. “yet.”
it was hard to keep track of the nights you’d spent here at his apartment over the last year; you’d lost count after the first few months. it was something that definitely happened more often than not and you practically were already a permanent part of it; your presence lingered even when you weren’t there, and you loved the moments where your nights and mornings were spent with steve. but it was hard to make the official leap into making the place “ours” instead of simply just his. 
because, logically, it was too soon; you two had barely been together a year. but it also felt so weirdly right, and there was a part of you that wanted to throw practicality out of the window and lean so heavily into that “rightness.”
you buried your face in his neck and let out a soft hum. “soon.”
“soon sounds really good,” steve hummed back as an arm circled around your waist and pulled you closer. you didn’t waste a second to tangle your legs with his and wrap yourself around him, your hand beginning to trace mindless circles against the bare skin of his back. 
you were wearing his t-shirt and yours was somewhere on his bedroom floor, thrown there by him after he hurriedly pulled it off of you last night. and steve knew that you’d forget about it and it’d probably stay there for at least the next few days, but he didn’t mind that in the slightest.   
he loved finding the random little pieces of “you” that were littered around the small apartment— a book that you finished reading but forgot to take home, cassettes of some of your favorite albums that now sat on his shelf, a couple pairs of your underwear and so many of your socks that somehow ended up in his laundry.
there was a part of you that wanted to lull yourself back to sleep for at least an hour or two longer, arms and legs wrapped around steve and face buried in his neck; an unconventionally comfortable position. but then there was something else that you wanted to do on this early sunday morning where neither of you had anywhere important to be anytime soon. 
your lips found the underside of his jaw, pressing a soft kiss against the stubbly skin. “need you.”
the two words practically vibrated his skin and the low groan he let out was immediate. his hand snaked underneath your, his, shirt and started trailing up, up, up until it was circling your breast and his thumb was brushing against your nipple. 
“please, stevie,” you whispered, and hearing how needy you sounded made him want to immediately fold. 
steve nodded, it was the only response he could give you in that moment. his other hand found your chin and tilted your face upward, so that he could press a kiss to your lips. 
and from there it was a mix of tangled limbs beneath the sheets and warm mouths against soft skin. the movements were rushed but also slow and languid. steve made quick work of pushing your underwear down your legs and you did the same with his boxers, but the kisses you shared were the opposite; they were attentive and sweet. you took your time sucking on a certain spot on his neck and leaving a pretty little mark, and he slowly moved his mouth against yours, wanting to savor it all. 
“need you inside,” you whined against his lips. 
“mhm, i know, honey,” he whispered as he grabbed your leg to hook it over his bare hip. he squeezed your thigh tightly before pushing home inside of you with one slow movement. 
the pretty noises you let out were swallowed by him before you were burying your face in his shoulder and then deep into his neck, your soft moans sounding like sweet music to his ears. 
probably from one of the first few moments you two met, steve knew that he wanted this forever. he was good at that; falling hard, falling fast. 
he wanted to always fall asleep with you and wake up next to you, fuck you every early morning; even on the days where one or both of you had places to be. he wanted his space to become yours too. but, he was also okay with waiting until you were fully ready to take that next step. 
and it would be next week, when you two were having another moment just like this one, that you finally listened completely to your heart instead of your head and told him yes.
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headkiss · 1 year
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not just on christmas
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve’s parents are coming home for the holidays and he’s in need of a fake date. who better than you, his best friend?
word count: 8.2k
warnings: steve’s parents (derogatory), negative comments about his job, fake dating, friends to lovers, christmas themes, fluff, first kiss!
a/n: i had lots of fun with this one and i hope u guys like it!!! merry christmas and happy holidays i hope they treat u all well <33 consider this my gift to you :D
The phone ringing forces Steve out of bed. Floors cool on his feet, the air a chill on his bare chest, he rubs his eyes lazily and picks it up.
“Hello?” He clears his throat to get rid of the sleep in his voice.
“Steve, why do you sound tired, it’s nearly noon!”
It’s no surprise that the first words aren’t asking him how he is. He’s shocked she cared enough to pick up on the tone of his voice at all. “Hi, mom.”
He doesn’t even know where she’s calling from, doesn’t know what business trip they're on. He can’t remember the last time he got a phone call that wasn’t you, or Robin, or Dustin, or anyone else other than his parents.
Steve’s not even excited to be hearing from them, because it’s a reminder that they’re not around, that they haven’t forgotten about him, they just don’t care.
He wishes you were the one that called.
“Listen, sweetie, your dad and I are coming home for Christmas this year, isn’t that great?”
He deflates, “yeah. Super.”
“There’s a business event he wants to take you to. And we’ll find you a date,” there’s the catch. There’s always a catch. “You can make some connections, maybe get out of your job at that video store soon.”
The thing is, he actually likes working at Family Video, but he knows that doesn’t matter. Then there’s the topic of the girlfriend, or lack thereof. His parents are always nagging him about when he’ll settle down, grow roots, or something.
Maybe that’s why he says, “I can get my own date. I have a girlfriend.”
“Oh! That’s fantastic! She’ll have dinner with us, won’t she? What’s her name?”
Like an idiot, he says your name. The first one that came to his mind.
You’re his best friend, and it’s easy to let his thoughts drift to you. The problem is, he has no idea how he’s going to explain this to you, how he can ask you to fake date him just to satisfy his parents for once.
If he wasn’t still on the phone, Steve would be groaning into a pillow right now.
“Okay, sweetie, your dad has a brunch we have to get to. We’ll see you soon!”
“Bye, mom. See you.”
He hangs up and sighs in relief. That feeling is quick to fade when he remembers that he had just named you his girlfriend in the midst of his phone call. He drops his face into his hands, runs them through his hair, and tries to figure out how the hell to bring up the subject with you.
To go along with that, he has to worry about his parents coming home. Though, can they really call it ‘home’ when they’ve been gone for so long? When they’ll leave again after a few days, a week at most?
Most people would be happy, excited, about their parents being around for the holidays. Steve’s not. He’d rather spend it how he has since the two of you became friends. Breakfast at your house with your family—who have become family for Steve, too—presents opened with scented candles burning and Christmas albums spun on the record player.
You went out of your way to include him, and he’s never felt so welcome in his life as he does when he’s with you.
At least, if you agree, you’ll be with him this year, too.
-
It’s the next day when Steve decides to bring it up. You’re at his house for movie night, which has become a weekly ritual for the two of you. He’s been trying to figure out what exactly to say since he hung up the damn phone. He’s given up and instead hopes it’ll come to him in the moment.
Today, Steve’s quiet, which is unlike him. You know something’s on his mind and you try to avoid asking him about it, trying to let him talk about it on his own time. It’s about halfway through the movie that you change your mind.
He didn’t complain when you showed up with your cheesy Christmas movie choice, he didn’t light-heartedly tease you about your outfit of choice (some festive patterned pajama pants and a sweater that’s so worn there are holes in the neckline), and the most unusual, he didn’t make a single joke or comment as the movie played.
He’s really, really quiet.
You pick up the remote and pause it, “what’s going on with you, Steve?”
He looks at you, catches your eye and sees nothing but genuine concern. Sometimes he hates the way you know him so well. He can never hide anything from you.
“What? Nothing.”
You blink at him, “come on.”
“Fine, okay. Just, don’t say anything until I’m done, please.”
“Okay,” you pretend to zip your mouth shut, ready to listen.
“My mom called yesterday and told me they’re coming home for Christmas, and that there’s this business thing they want me to go to, and that I need a date for it,” he scrubs a hand down his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “And you know how they’re always on my ass about me being single and stuff so I kind of told her I already had a girlfriend, and maybe I told her that girlfriend is you.”
What?
There’s a lot to process there. Mostly the fact that out of all of the names he could have chosen, he said yours. You wait for him to explain some more, but he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for a reply, so, your mouth is now unzipped.
“So, what exactly does that mean?”
He mutters a curse under his breath. “Um, so, I need you to pretend to be my actual girlfriend while they’re here.”
His use of the word ‘need’ is telling. Steve’s not one to ask for help, not even when he needs it the most but here he is, nervous and a little pink-cheeked, asking for your help.
You let the thought sit in your head for a bit. It’s not hard for you to want to agree. Steve’s your best friend, and you’d do pretty much anything for him. Though, that might also have to do with the fact that you’ve been in love with him for years.
You know more about his relationship with his parents then most do, so if you can make their visit more bearable for him in any way, why wouldn’t you?
“Okay,” you say.
“Okay? Like, you’ll do it?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m happy to help.”
That was a lot easier than Steve thought it’d be. You barely even questioned him before agreeing, and that’s not lost on him.
“Thank you so much, seriously,” he throws his arm over your shoulders, squeezes you to him in a side hug. “It’s only a few days, then we can go back to normal.”
“Easy peasy,” you say, reaching for the remote and hitting play.
Aside from your wanting to help him, to be there for him like you know he would for you, you’re also curious to see what it’s like to be with Steve that way, even if it’s fake. It’s hopeless, the way you love him, like the moon orbiting the earth around and around. Constant.
Sure, those feelings will probably only swell because of the fake relationship, but you’ve been housing them for long enough anyway.
What could go wrong?
-
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Robin says from the other side of a clothing rack, sifting through the pieces.
She’s the first, and only, person you told about the fake dating thing. Naturally, she decided she’d help you shop for a dress to wear to this business thing and talk about it at the same time.
The mall is decorated, garlands and lights strung, a big Christmas tree lit up in the middle of it all.
“It’s only a couple of days. It’ll be fine.”
“I’m talking about you being in love with him,” she deadpans.
“Robin, not so loud.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
You know she’s being honest, and though the thought has been at the back of your mind, a whisper, you’d like to believe that you can handle a fake relationship without ruining things because of your big, big feelings.
“I spend time with him alone a bunch. It’s not that much different, okay?”
“Besides the fact that you’ll be calling him boyfriend and acting like it, too, you mean.”
Actually, you’ve been trying not to think about what exactly pretending to be his girlfriend entails. You don’t know if he’ll hold your hand, if he’ll hold you closer than he has before, if he’ll kiss you. You think it might be better to wait and see, to not let the possibilities eat at you.
“I know it sounds bad, but it’s Steve. Nothing major will happen. We’re friends and I’m helping him out.”
Robin’s in a tricky spot. She knows how you feel about Steve, obviously, and though he doesn’t see it yet himself, she knows that Steve feels the same, too. It’s taken a lot to hold herself back from speeding things along, and as much as she wishes this fake relationship plan might be a good push, things usually aren’t so easy.
She can also tell that there’s a lot you’re thinking but not saying, but instead of pushing it, she returns to looking at the dresses. It’s not long before she gasps, pulling one of the rack to show you.
“This one,” she says.
“I don’t know. That won’t look good on me.”
It’s pretty, though. You’ll give her that.
“Shut up, everything looks good on you. Will you at least try it on?” She wiggles the hanger in her hand, “for me?”
“Fine.”
You take it from her, walking back towards the fitting rooms with a grinning Robin in tow. She waits outside the door while you change into the dress.
Once it’s on, looking in the mirror, you don’t even know what to think. You’re not one to feel all that confident in what you wear, or in how you look, but this dress makes you feel pretty. Maybe you should make Robin pick out all of your clothes.
“Let me see!” Robin calls.
You step out of the changeroom, doing a shy little spin when she asks. She’s smiling proudly, like she knows she chose well (which she did). She can’t help but think of how Steve will react, because she knows he feels something for you, she can see it on his face everytime he talks about you. He’s just a dork and he doesn’t realize it. Not yet, at least.
“What do you think?” You ask.
“If Steve’s not already in love with you…”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
If she does, your brain will conjure up way too many ideas of what could possibly happen. If Steve could really feel the same. If maybe he’ll feel those same butterflies in his stomach that you do, if his heart feels bigger when you’re around. In your dreams, he does.
“I’m trying to tell you you look hot!”
-
December twenty-third is the day that Steve’s parents come home as well as the night of the business event. You and Steve have tried to figure out how to act like a couple, quizzing each other on things you already know, setting loose boundaries, but you figure after knowing each other for so long, being so close, it won’t feel much different than now. Besides the extra touching, the possibility of kissing.
You’re already at his house when his parents get home, your makeup and outfit for tonight sitting in Steve’s room. The two of you linger near the front door waiting for their arrival, a nervous and jittery welcoming committee.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway grabs your attention. It’s a clapperboard snapping shut, marking the scene. Action.
“You ready, babe?” He holds out his arm for you to grab, and you do.
“Time to be the best couple ever,” you reply.
Steve grins at you. He has no idea how to thank you for agreeing to do this, how to even explain to you the relief you’re sure to bring. It’s one less thing for his parents to pick and pry at.
The door opens, and you can already feel a change in Steve’s demeanor. He’s standing straighter, stiffer. You squeeze his arm, a reminder that you’re there.
“Steve, sweetie!” His mother barely greets him before moving onto you, “and this is your girlfriend?”
“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.”
If it were someone else’s mother, you’d be hit with the usual ‘oh please, call me (insert name here).’ However, where the Harringtons are concerned, formality is a must. Besides Steve, of course. From what you know, the apple had fallen very, very far from the tree and you mean that as a compliment.
Even after being friends for so many years, this is the first time you’re actually meeting Steve’s parents. It’s clear that he’s never jumped at the opportunity to have his friends around when they’re home. He’s told you about them, and that’s enough for you.
“Steve! Come help me with the bags, would you?” His dad calls from outside, though he says it as a demand rather than a question.
“Yep, coming,” he replies. He kisses the side of your head before going outside, quick and sure, like he’s done it hundreds of times.
“How was your trip, Mrs. Harrington?” You fill the silence.
“Oh, just lovely, thank you,” she moves to the kitchen, expecting you to follow. “The house looks clean. Do you have something to do with that?”
Despite her trying to sound like she’s joking, you know that she truly doesn’t believe that Steve could be the one keeping the place going. As if he hasn’t been doing just that for ages.
“No, no. It’s really Steve.”
Her eyebrows raise, surprised.
Steve and his father walk in before anything else is said—thank God. You shake hands with Mr. Harrington, saying hello and wearing a tight smile. Steve’s quick to come to your side, an arm over your shoulders like a shield. Your hand moves to hold the one resting on your shoulder.
He’s even more tense when his father’s in the room, you’ve noticed. You hold his hand a bit tighter. You wish you could do something to make him feel better, and you hope that this fake relationship will do that at least a little bit.
Meanwhile Steve’s wondering how your presence could make him feel much better than he usually does with his parents around. You’re a comfort beside him, and when he gets the chance, he kisses your head again, whispering a ‘thank you’ into your hair.
-
The first few hours with Steve’s parents go by dreadfully slow, even with his touch on you most of the time. You’re quickly learning that as a boyfriend—even fake—Steve’s love language is easily physical touch. He has an arm around you, a hand in yours, on your leg, anything.
You’re also learning just how strained his relationship with his parents is. He’d trusted you enough to tell you most of it, but seeing them interact in front of you was different. The backhanded comments, the faces whenever he mentions his job, it makes your heart ache for him.
It’s bad enough that his parents are hardly ever around, but having them act like this when they are? You’re amazed at how good Steve has remained through it all.
When it’s time to get ready for the business party, you’re thankful for the reprieve.
“Think we’re doing a good job?” You ask Steve as he shuts the door to his room.
“They seem to be buying it. Thanks again for doing this.”
“You’ve thanked me like a hundred times, Steve. It’s okay, really.”
You want to tell him that you’re sorry these are the people he has to call family. That he shouldn’t listen to any of the shit they give him about his job or his lack of post-secondary education. That he’s the best boy you’ve ever known.
The problem is, you don’t know how to say all of that without making your feelings for him painfully obvious.
“Just gotta keep it up ‘til Christmas. That’s when they leave.”
“They’re only here for two days?” You knew the trip was going to be short, but forty-eight hours?
“Yeah, something about getting a deal on a cruise. I don’t know.”
He says it so casually, like it’s normal. You guess that for him, it is, but it doesn’t make it any less upsetting.
“Does that mean you’ll come to mine for Christmas day? Like usual?” You ask, hopefully lightening the mood.
“If you’ll have me.”
“Shut up, you’re always welcome. Think my mom likes you more than me anyway,” you nudge his shoulder with yours, then move to bring your stuff into his bathroom to start getting ready.
He leans on the doorframe, watching you set your makeup out on the counter, “she does not.”
“Steve, you have your own stocking hanging on our fireplace. And it’s bigger than mine.”
He smiles genuinely then, the first one since his parents have arrived.
He leaves you to get ready, shutting the bathroom door for when you change. You can still hear him through the door. The opening and closing of his drawers, a curse when he stubs his toe.
So far, pretending to be with Steve has been easy. You’ve acted the same save for the touches or small pecks he’s decided to keep placing on your head or your cheeks. The story you settled on was simple: you met him picking up a movie at Family Video, he asked if you needed company to watch it, the rest is history, blah blah blah.
Steve knocks on the bathroom door when you’re pretty much ready, you glance at yourself one more time in the mirror before opening it.
He stands with his tie in hand, wearing a button up and dress pants. You assume there’s a suit jacket to go along with it, and you think it might kill you. He’s so pretty, and he looks it all of the time but seeing him dressed up is really something.
“You look good, Steve,” you say. Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“Thanks. You look- you too.”
Steve’s stunned. He realizes he’s never seen you in anything formal and it’s making him feel all fluttery in his stomach and he doesn’t know what to think of it. He’s always known you’re gorgeous, in an obvious way like how the sky is blue. Now, though, it’s like he can feel it.
He clears his throat quietly and remembers the reason he knocked in the first place, “you don’t happen to know how to tie a tie, do you?”
You’re thankful for the time you decided to learn how when you were bored one day. You take the fabric from his hands, “it’s your lucky day, Steve.”
“Thank you. Didn’t wanna have to go ask my dad.”
He’s almost shy about wanting your help over something so small, his cheeks a little pink, his head bent. You give him a reassuring smile—or what you hope is one—and place the tie around his neck.
His eyes are on you as your hands fiddle with the fabric, doing it up for him. Your eyebrows are slightly scrunched, and he wants to reach out and smooth it out with his thumb. He’s not used to having that urge.
You finish up successfully after having fumbled a little bit, adjusting the tie so it isn’t crooked.
“There you go,” you pat his chest and he hopes you can’t feel his heartbeat, the way it’s quicker than normal.
He has no idea what that’s about.
“Thanks.”
“‘Course.”
He’s still standing close to you, enough that he has to keep his head tilted downwards just a little to be able to look at your face. Your eyes lock onto his, and time seems to slow. You’re so gone for him and you know it, but it almost seems like maybe he’s feeling something too. Just for a moment.
His father calling out that it’s time to go snaps you out of it.
Steve grabs his jacket, shrugging it on then offering you his hand to hold, “let’s do this, girlfriend.”
-
The hall is oozing Christmas when you walk in, Steve’s hand in yours. Ornaments hang down from the ceiling, warm white string lights line the top of the walls, Christmas music hums through the speakers, and an extravagant Christmas tree sits in the middle of the room.
You’ve never been to an event like it, and you have a hard time keeping your nerves at bay.
Pretending in front of Steve’s parents alone was one thing. Now, the stakes are higher. You have to be convincing and though it’s not difficult for you to pretend to be in love with Steve (you don’t have to fake that at all), you worry that you’ll slip up somehow and give yourself away. Both in the sense that the relationship is fake, and that your feelings are anything but.
It’s not long before Steve’s father gets pulled into a conversation, and his mother goes along with him. You’re left standing near the doorway with Steve, biting at the inside of your cheek.
“Relax,” he leans his head close to yours and whispers.
“Sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“We’re fine. You’re fine,” he squeezes your hand, something that’s quickly become a wordless reassurance between you. “We’ve done good so far, right?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
Except for the fact that I love you and that you being a really good fake boyfriend isn’t helping.
“Okay.”
He smiles and leads you further into the room. The smile he gives you is different from the one he gives the people that say hi to him, the people that stop him for a chat. For you, it’s honest. For them, it doesn’t reach his eyes, it doesn’t mean anything.
“About time you tied someone down, Steve,” a man says to him. A coworker of his father’s, just like most men in the room.
“Think she’s the one who got me, but yeah.”
“That’s sweet. Next step is to get you a stable job, huh?”
It seems like all anyone here is concerned about is what people do, who they know. It’s no fun for you and they aren’t even speaking to you directly most of the time.
“Sure. Good to see you,” Steve excuses the both of you from the conversation.
“These people suck,” you say to him, leading him to the bar set up in a corner.
“Tell me about it.”
You order water for the both of you, something to get rid of the dryness in your throat and occupy you for a bit. You drink quietly before Steve speaks up.
“You look beautiful, by the way.”
He doesn’t know why it slips out now, but it does. The thought has been on his mind since he saw you standing there in his bathroom, and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore.
“You don’t have to say that, Steve. Nobody’s listening.”
“I mean it, seriously.”
“Oh,” you look down at your glass, at the condensation running down the side. The corners of your mouth lift, “thank you.”
“I know this isn’t the most fun, but I’m glad you’re here with me,” he admits. He’s always been sweet to you, but this feels different. You don’t know how or why, but it does.
“I am too.”
Steve’s dad interrupts your moment, pulling Steve off to meet some people. Already, there’s a guard being put up by him, a shield he saves for his father.
For those few minutes, where it was just you and Steve, you realized that he’s probably the best date you’ve ever had. He pays attention to you, he’s comforting without even trying, and he compliments you with so much honesty you could melt.
He’s the best date you’ve ever had and it’s fake. It’s becoming a mantra repeated in your head; it’s not real, it’s not real.
Lost in thought, you don’t notice the boy who’s sat next to you now.
“I’ve never seen you before,” he says.
“I’m not usually at these things. I came with my boyfriend,” you tell him, unsettled by his stare.
“And where is this boyfriend now?”
“He’s out there. I just needed some water but he’ll come back soon.”
You’re trying to get him to go away, to take the hint. He won’t.
“Why don’t I keep you company in the meantime?”
You’re about to reply when someone else does it for you, “not necessary. She’s my girl.”
My girl. Steve. He stands behind you, wraps his arms around your waist. It’s like he knew you needed him then, showing up as soon as you felt like you wanted to search for him. He runs his hands over your sides, a possessive touch that has your skin tingling.
“My bad, man. Thought she was lying about the boyfriend,” the guy says.
“She wasn’t. Even if she was, maybe you should learn to tell when someone isn’t interested, yeah?”
The stranger nods and walks off.
You spin in Steve’s hold, facing him. “My hero.”
“You know me,” he shrugs.
What he doesn’t say is that seeing another guy talk to you made his gut churn, bringing something that he didn’t want to admit was jealousy. He also saw the look on your face, the discomfort, and felt his feet carry him over before his mind could think it first.
His hands are still on your waist, even with the stranger gone.
-
It’s not until Steve’s parents are ready that you leave. They’ve taken advantage of the champagne that sat on trays, free for the taking, as well as the opportunity to talk up their son to many, many people. It seems they’re only proud of him when there’s other people around, and even then, the praise doesn’t hold much weight.
He’s trying his best. At least he’s working. He’s got a girlfriend now. No, he doesn’t host backyard parties while we’re gone anymore.
You wish you could speak up, but you know, with this many people around, it’d cause more harm than good. It’s hard to listen to the people that raised Steve talk about him the way they do. You want so badly to shout in their faces how brilliant he is, no thanks to them. How he has the kindest soul and a sort of midas touch that makes everything shine.
At least, you think he does. You promise yourself to love him better than they ever did, even if it’s in secret.
One memory from the night overpowers the rest, luckily. ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ played, a slower rendition, and a slow dance ensued. You watched couples split off, and when you looked at Steve, he was already looking at you, a question on his face and a hand outstretched.
You fell into step with him quickly. It wasn’t awkward for a second. One of your hands in his, the other on his shoulder, his on your waist. You swayed together, unknowingly moving closer until you were close enough to rest your head on his chest. And you did.
He rested his head atop of yours and hummed the song softly. You’ll dream about that dance, probably.
Now, you sit in the car with Steve, who’s become the driver. He drops his parents off at his house first, leaving the two of you alone for the drive to yours. He sneaks glances at you at stop signs and red lights, turning back to the road when he thinks he’s been caught.
His mind is full because he’s looking at you in a way he hasn’t before. He sees parts of you that he was blind to before. The shape of your lips, for example. The dip of your spine and the way it feels to hold you. It’s dizzying and warm, confusing and sparkling all at once.
Once he’s pulled up to your house, he offers to walk you to the door. Ever the gentleman. A romantic no matter how much he denies it, you think. He gets misty-eyed when you watch rom-coms, opens doors for you, has bought flowers for nearly all of his dates, as far as you know.
What must it be like to receive flowers from Steve Harrington?
He faces you on your front porch, hands in his pockets, “thank you again for doing this.”
“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay. I’m happy to help you, Steve. You’re my best friend.” Who I love more than anyone.
“You’re mine, too, honey.”
It’s not the first time he’s called you that. Turns out, it was his default to use in your fake relationship. It is, however, the first time he’s said it when it’s just the two of you. It sounds sweet coming from his lips, sticky. Just like honey itself.
“What time should I be over for dinner tomorrow?” You ask. It’s the last hurdle of the fake dating.
“How ‘bout I come pick you up after I finish work?”
“Yeah, okay, that’d be great, thanks.”
You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold of December biting your skin.
“Here,” Steve notices, of course he does, and he reaches out with his hands, rubbing them up and down your arms to warm you.
“How’re your hands still warm?” You ask.
“I'm magic.”
You smile at that. He has no idea.
He reaches up with one hand to cup your cool cheek, and you nudge your face into his touch. For the warmth, you tell yourself. That’s it. His thumb runs over your skin, once, twice.
“Did I ever tell you that you have a pretty smile?” He says it so quietly you almost miss it. You don’t, though, and there’s a swarm of butterflies in your gut because of it.
“Shut up,” you try to mask your bashfulness.
Then, just like that, his face is close to yours. So close that it looks like he might kiss you. His eyes flick from your mouth up to yours, like he’s unsure of what’s happening while he’s doing it.
You can feel his breath tickling your lips, the ghost of his mouth on yours. Before that can happen, he’s swerving away quickly, planting a kiss on your cheek instead. The one he isn’t holding. His mouth lingers for a second.
“Goodnight,” he whispers against your skin.
“Night,” you say, dazed. And he’s walking away.
Steve’s not at all sure what’s come over him. He wanted to kiss you just then, to tangle his fingers in your hair and kiss you stupid. What the fuck was happening to him?
When you let your eyes flutter shut, your mouth parted slightly, like you’d let him kiss you, like you wanted it, too, he panicked. Couldn't do it.
No, he doesn’t know what just happened, why it did, or why he’s resisting the urge to go back and knock on your door and actually kiss you when you open it. What he does know is that his heart seems to be doing something funny when you’re around, and that your fake relationship has been better than any of his real ones.
He knows he needs to talk to Robin about this.
-
Steve had to work the next morning—Christmas Eve—which he was actually thankful for. Thankful to get away from his parents, though the comments about his job followed him out the door this morning. Especially thankful because he needs to talk to Robin and sort out the mess of his feelings that has occurred in the last twenty four hours.
He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to kiss you. About how his stomach was all twisty when you slow danced with him. There are so many moments playing over in his memory. Not just from yesterday, either.
He remembers the way his stomach would sink when you’d tell him about a date you had or how he’d often reach out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, or to wipe something away from the corner of your mouth.
So many things over your friendship that he never thought about are coming back to him and he’s realized he doesn’t act that way with any of his other friends. Only you.
He also realizes that he hasn’t really been pretending with you at all.
“I think I love her,” Steve blurts out while he and Robin are organizing returns, the store luckily empty.
Robin reaches into her pocket, barely fazed, and tosses a handful of confetti at Steve. Some pieces stick to his hair, some to his clothes, most of it at his feet.
“What the hell?” He shakes the flecks out of his hair, “we have to clean that now.”
“I’ve been carrying around confetti for like a year waiting for this to happen!”
“Wait, what?”
“Steve, you’ve been loving her for a long time, hate to break it to you.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” He’s no longer preoccupied with the confetti.
“I was letting you do it on your own time. You’re welcome.”
Steve had only just deduced that he’s in love with you and yet, when he thinks about you, he feels the same way he has for years. He finds it hard to believe that he’s been blind to it for that long, but he has been called an idiot enough in his lifetime for it to make sense.
Then, there’s the fact that you’re not done fake dating yet, that there’s still dinner today to get through and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep himself together.
“What am I gonna do, Robin?”
“You’re gonna tell her how you feel and I will finally know peace.”
“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I freak her out?”
“Steve, she looks at you like sun shines from your pores,” she places a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”
-
He picks you up after work as promised, his hands holding the wheel a little tighter, his greeting a little louder than normal. You figure he’s just nervous about dinner.
Nobody brings up the almost kiss, and you don’t plan to. Maybe you read things wrong. Maybe he was aiming for your cheek all along. Maybe he’s been thinking about it as much as you have.
It seems that your feelings for Steve are present now more than ever. Impossible to ignore. It might have something to do with the Christmas spirit floating around, the lightness of the holidays. It definitely has something to do with you being Steve’s fake girlfriend.
Because it turns out, he’s an excellent boyfriend, real or not.
He opens doors for you, even if he has to jog ahead of you to do it. He’s always got at least one hand on you, warm and sure. He looks at you with so much care, his brown eyes stuck on you.
It’s all adding up and you feel like your love for him is overflowing, pouring out of you before you can reel it in. You just hope he doesn’t notice that you’re not acting, that you never were.
Walking into Steve’s kitchen, you pause in the doorway, him behind you, “this smells great, Mrs. Harrington.”
Though Steve knows she probably bought most of the stuff and then put it in pots and pans to make it look like she cooked, he agrees, “so great, mom.”
She turns to look at you both from her spot by the stove, “thank you. Oh!” She cuts herself off with a gasp, her gaze drifting above your heads.
Oh no.
“Mistletoe,” she says, pointing.
“Look at that,” you laugh, short and awkward.
“Steve, sweetie, kiss your girlfriend for tradition's sake, won’t you.”
He kisses you on the cheek.
“A real one, son,” his father pipes up from his seat at the table.
Steve finds your gaze, his eyes wide and questioning. Are you okay with this? He’s asking without saying it. You nod, barely there, but you nod and he sees it.
He cups your cheek in his hand, flashes of last night on your porch come to you. He leans in slowly, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. Instead of doing that, you hold his wrist in your hand, squeeze it. Your silent communication.
In a blink, his lips are on yours. Pillowy and almost shy, but he’s kissing you and you feel like you’re floating, your feet off the ground and everything. He pulls away before you can even register the fact that it happened.
Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, your lips still burning with the memory of his.
Steve can't believe he hasn’t kissed you before. You’re soft and you fit together so well, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle clicking into place. He’s kicking himself for not doing it last night, when you were alone, when it was real. Next time he kisses you, he thinks, it will be real.
He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from you, “so, let’s eat.”
Just like that, he’s moving to the table, pulling out a chair for you and kissing the top of your head once you’ve sat down. Already, the extra affection he’s been giving you has been dizzying. Now, it’s dialed way up.
He helps his mom serve the food before he sits down, though all he gets as a thank you is a pat on the cheek. Next to you, you can see Steve’s leg bouncing up and down. You reach out and place a hand above his knee, stilling him and drawing his gaze to yours.
You smile, and you hope it’s enough to say it’s okay, it’s all gonna be fine. He rests his hand on top of yours, fingers laced together.
“So, Steve, have you been looking for jobs?” His father speaks up. The never-ending topic.
“No, dad. I have a job,” Steve doesn’t look up from his plate, pushing mashed potatoes around with his fork.
“Well, a real job, I mean.”
At Steve’s silence, his mom adds, “we just think, especially now that you have a girlfriend to support, you should look for something… better.”
You look up when she says it, eyes wide and hand tensing on Steve’s leg. You don’t understand how they care so much about what he does and so little about how he feels. He likes his job, you know that, and he’s tried to tell them multiple times over the past couple of days.
And still.
It’s impossible for you to sit by and listen to them talk to him the way they do, like he isn’t good enough. Like the only defining thing is his job, which isn’t even a bad one. What defines him is who he is as a person and he’s the best one in your life.
“Why does it matter so much?” You ask.
His parents look at you, surprised to be questioned, it seems. Steve looks at you, too, with something more like astonishment, appreciation.
“I’m sorry,” you continue, “it’s just, you haven’t seen your son in how long? And all you guys keep bringing up is his job, which he’s told you he actually enjoys. Shouldn’t that be enough for you?”
Steve’s world is tinting pink, heart-shaped lenses over his eyes hearing you defend him. Nobody’s ever tried to go against his parents for him, and here you are. Fuck, he loves you.
They’re quiet, and you’re not finished. “Steve is the greatest person I’ve ever met, and that’s no thanks to you. I’ve known him for a long time and not once have I seen you guys around. How can you judge him so much when you don’t even take the time to know him anymore?”
The room is dead quiet. Nothing but the clinking of forks against plates for the rest of the meal. You feel lighter, after saying what you did. Though you’re also terrified that you’ve overstepped, that Steve will be upset with you for causing a scene.
As if sensing your worry, he holds your hand just a bit tighter.
It’s not until after dinner, hidden away in his room, that you talk about what happened. Not the kiss; your outburst.
He shuts his door and you’re already apologizing, “listen, Steve. I'm so sorry if I made things worse, but I couldn’t just let them shit on your job anymore. I couldn’t. You’re my best friend, you know that, and-”
His arms are around you in a blink.
“Thank you,” he breathes into your hair. “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me. Thank you, honey.”
“Oh,” you blink away your surprise and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Anytime.”
“You’re really special.”
Your smile spreads, spilling before you can do anything about it. You hide your face in his neck and stay that way until he lets go, a flush in his cheeks and stars in his eyes.
Steve wanted to tell you he loves you right then, but the words seem stuck in his throat. They won’t come up. He wants to be with you for real, and though it happened in a rush, it also didn’t. His brain just needed to catch up to his heart.
He doesn’t say it, but he will. As soon as he can.
“Wanna go watch a movie?” You ask.
“Yeah, okay.”
Movie night. You and him. That’s real.
-
Steve’s parents seem to have gone out somewhere, the car missing from the driveway. They haven’t left, though. You and Steve checked for the suitcases (they’re sitting, already packed, in their room).
Playing the movie, yet another Christmas pick that Steve couldn’t say no to, you share a blanket. There’s plenty of room on the couch, you’re the only people there, and yet, Steve still tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you to lean against his side.
Maybe he’s just doing it in case his parents come home while you’re downstairs. That’s gotta be it.
“Is it bad that I’m sort of relieved they aren’t here right now?” Steve says to you, quiet.
“Not at all. You deserve better than what they give you, Steve.”
“You think so?”
“Are you kidding? I know so.”
He lets his head lean atop of yours, and that’s that.
You want to bring up the kiss, but then again, why would you? It’s not real. It’s not real no matter how much you wish it was, no matter how much it feels that way. You knew going into this that you might end up kissing Steve, you just didn’t know it’d fuck you up so much.
Part of you hopes that mistletoe will appear above your heads yet again, just to be able to feel the way you did when he kissed you. Heart fluttering, stomach twisting, warm all over.
Though Steve’s head feels relaxed, resting on yours, it’s overflowing with thoughts. You, his parents, the way you defended him, how it felt to kiss you, how much he wants to do it again. You. The entire length of the movie, he’s trying to think of a way to tell you he loves you. The best he comes up with is to wing it.
When the screen fades, and the film ends, you remember the gift you’d left in Steve’s room, buried at the bottom of your overnight bag (you decided to sleep over, something you’ve done too many times to count, and head to your place in the morning with Steve). You sit up, only to face him.
“I have something for you. C’mon,” you tug on his hand, leading him all the way to his own bedroom.
“What?”
“Just,” you make him sit down on his bed when you’re in the room, digging through your bag and finding the present you’d wrapped last night. “Here.”
He takes it from your hand slowly, like it’s the most precious thing in the world. He doesn’t open it right away, staring at the red and green patterned wrapping paper and the gold stick-on bow sitting in the middle of it.
“Open it,” you urge, shuffling nervously on your feet.
He shoots you a shy smile before tearing at the paper, revealing a scrapbook of sorts. Flipping through the pages, he finds memories upon memories. Pictures of you and him, of him and Robin, all three of you. Some with the kids or with Eddie. Most of them he doesn’t even remember taking.
And it’s more than just pictures. There’s movie tickets and receipts from random fast food dinners, confetti from a surprise party for Dustin and a piece of a plate Steve broke once.
It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever given him. It reminds him that he does have a family, no blood relation needed.
“Honey,” he says it quietly, his eyes watering ever so slightly. “This is- I don’t even know what to say.”
“I know it’s not much, but I thought you’d like it.”
“No. I love it. It’s perfect, seriously,” he runs his finger over a picture of the two of you, your faces squished together and your smiles absolutely ridiculous. “Best gift ever.”
He means it.
“I had some help with the pictures. Everyone in that book loves you, Steve.”
Everyone in that book. That means you love him, too. He knows that you could mean it platonically, but something about the way you look at him when you say it makes him think that he has to tell you. He has to try.
He’s suddenly very glad he bought you a locket for Christmas, and that he left it unwrapped because of his lack of skills in that department.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
“Steve-”
“Please,” he trades spots with you, sitting you on the edge of his bed, “close your eyes for a minute, ‘kay?”
“Okay,” you shut them tight, placing a hand over them as well, “double closed.”
He rushes to grab the locket from the bottom of one of his drawers, then grabs the tiniest bit of paper and manages to write as small as he can on it, placing the message in the necklace and closing it with a small click.
Steve reaches for the hand that isn’t covering your eyes, opening it up and placing the delicate piece of jewelry in it. “Okay, open.”
You do, glancing down to what rests in your palm. It’s gorgeous, dainty, and the corners of your mouth lift at the sight of it.
“It’s beautiful, Steve. You didn’t have to.”
“It’s a locket,” he says. His head is bent, shy and visibly nervous. “Open it, too.”
Your heartbeat picks up, like you know, subconsciously, that something big is hiding inside despite the small size of the necklace itself. You wedge your fingernail into the gap, pushing the locket open. The note inside makes your stomach drop.
In his messy, rushed writing, the words ‘I love you.’
You look at him, mouth agape and hopes way up. “Steve?”
“I mean it.”
“How-”
“I mean I’m in love with you, and I think I have been for a really, really long time. I guess it took you being my fake girlfriend for me to realize it.”
“You’re not pranking me, are you?”
You’ve spent so long loving him, and convincing yourself that he could never love you the same, that it feels unreal. Hazy, like a dream.
He sits beside you, cupping your face in his hands softly to make you look at him, “I’m not pranking you. I love you.”
“Holy shit. I love you, too. For so long. I never thought I had a chance with you.”
“I think you’re the only person who’s had a real chance with me since I met you, honey.”
Right there, discarded wrapping paper on the floor, the glow of Christmas lights shining through the window, you doubt you’ll ever take that locket off once it’s on.
You can’t stop yourself from rushing forward and kissing him. A small press of your mouth against his at first, then, it’s more. It’s slow and every single thing you’ve ever wanted. His lips move with yours like they’re the only ones that know you.
This time, when you kiss, there’s no question. It’s real and it’s thawing every single worry you ever had about this. This is real, you get to think now.
Steve pulls away only when your breathing gets heavier, only when he absolutely has to. His thumb trails over your cheek, a lover’s touch. He takes the necklace from your hand, puts it on for you and kisses you again when he’s done.
“Do you think this was a Christmas miracle?” You say, teasing.
“I think this was just me being too stupid to notice how I feel about you. I know now, though.”
“Because you needed a fake girlfriend.”
“Because I needed a fake girlfriend,” he confirms. “But, I’d like a real one now.”
“I think I can manage that,” you nod, a lovesick smile on your face.
For once, Steve’s glad his parents came home. He never would have asked you to fake date him if they hadn’t, and he wouldn’t have realized his very real feelings for you, either. So, maybe it is a Christmas miracle, after all.
hey you! if you enjoyed please consider leaving a reblog, it would mean a lot and helps a ton more than you’d think! help support creators like me <3
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cozymaples · 4 months
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baby, it's cold outside! | (steve harrington x reader)
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contains: rich!steve, boyfriend!steve, fluffy smut because i get soft this time of year!!!, afab!reader, oral!f recieving , use of the word 'princess' !
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steve who wraps you in his arms in bed while you sleep, head resting atop your own. steve who feels you shiver in the night, frost latched onto your penthouse window as flurries fall outside. steve who tries to soothe you as you wake, shivering in the night. steve whose shared wine glasses with you before bed, just to warm up a little bit more.
steve whose lips latch to your neck as you wake, whining softly about being cold. steve who slides his warm hands under your shirt, allowing your head to lull back against his chest.
"it's freezing," you'd halfheartedly complained as you both crawled into bed. "s'a penthouse, baby. s'gonna take a little bit to get the heat all the way up here." he'd explained drowsily, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "first cold day of the year, honey. just give it 'til the morning." to compensate, he'd started a fire for the two of you, but you were still shivering.
he slides downwards, crawling under the duvet as you stir slightly, rolling onto your back as he parts from your neck. he spreads your legs apart with his palms, bent at the knee as he shelves them on broad shoulders. he nips gently at your inner thigh, causing you to hiss through your teeth. it succeeds in waking you more, finally pushing the covers down to see his face. being bundled up together had warmed his features, but steve naturally got warmer when you were always freezing. his cheeks are flushed pink, mouth working on your inner thighs as he looks up at you. your arms lunge forward from your sides, fingers tangling in his hair as he tugs your panties to the side, mouth working on your pussy.
"you were right," he murmurs against your clit, "you're freezing." you whine, bucking your hips upwards to meet his mouth. normally he'd make you work for it, basking in all the ways your body needed him; but he's feeling generous, and so he continues. your moans harmonize with the crackle of the fireplace, and he holds your legs as his mouth works on you. he slides two fingers in and you keen, knees buckling and falling against the sides of his head.
he can't help but chuckle into your flesh, proud of himself for knowing every little thing that makes you tick. your fingers knot in his hair, your jaw slack as your hips buck upwards to grind against his tongue. it feels so good, and warm-your head goes dizzy with all of these thoughts, and before you know it, you're spilling over for him.
his moans vibrate against your clit, and he truly is the trope of 'men who eat pussy for pleasure.' the way his tongue works against your clit ensures that he's going to heaven if it's real-and you finally come back to earth as you hear him calling your name, intertwined with 'baby'.
you finally come down from your high, grounded as your senses connect to the feelings around you.
warm. fireplace, comforter. steve.
you glance down at him through hazy lids, your gaze focusing on your boyfriend; drawing circles into your knee with his thumb. he accompanies it with a kiss, finally crawling towards you, kissing you all over your face.
it makes you squeal, giggling like a child. "steve-!" you lightheartedly protest, and he chuckles to himself. "can we sleep now? is the princess warm enough?" he teases, bundling you into his arms once more as you tsk, jaw hanging open as you pull the comforter over you both. "okay okay, yes." you tease back with defeat, snuggling closer as you rest your head on his chest.
741 notes · View notes
munsonify · 1 month
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steve harringtons hands moodboard 😵‍💫
i’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck
18+ mdni
taglist: @songbirdofthenight
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shesmysterious · 1 month
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im not arguing with a man with big brown eyes, whatever you say beautiful
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Boobies!
Steve Harrington x Female Reader
Summary:Your Stevie gets to spend some quality time with you and his girls.
Warnings: 18+, Smut, Steve Harrington is a boobs guy, Titfucking, Mentions of pornography, nothing else that I can think of (unless you think there’s something I missed, in which case; shoot me a message so I can tag it)
Word Count: 1521
Author's Note:I had this idea bouncing around my head for a while, and so I thought I’d get round to actually writing it. 
Simply put, Steve Harrington was a boob kind of guy. In his eyes, all boobs were good boobs. Big, or small, it didn't matter to him. 
You suspected as much to be true, because anytime you'd fallen asleep with him, he would end up spooned so close to you, holding you safe in his arms, his hand finding their places to settle over your boobs. Just feeling the soft weight of your tits in his palms was somewhat relaxing for him.
You also had your suspicions confirmed last summer, where you had decided to wear a tank top, to avoid wearing any unnecessary layers. That was the day that you had to fight for your boyfriend’s attention almost anytime you wanted to talk to him. His brown eyes cast down, towards your chest, eyeing the exposed cleavage, and enjoying the subtle bounce and jiggle of your boobs anytime you talked excitedly about anything.
It was on a lazy Sunday evening, on the rare occasion that you weren’t working at the movie theatre, and Steve had a day off working in Family Video. You were laying closely pressed together on his bed. 
More often than not, the free time you spent alone with Steve was in his house. He’d told you many times that it was very rare for his parents to be home for any length of time. Whilst the thought of Steve’s parents being happy enough to leave that boy in that big house all by himself, made your heart ache, you were glad of the privacy it afforded you. It was so much better than the alternative. That time where Steve had been hanging out with you in your bedroom, and your Stevie couldn’t keep his hands to himself. The sudden knock and opening of the door by your mother startled you both enough to quickly pull away from your impromptu makeout session. It wasn’t that your mother didn’t like or approve of your relationship with Steve, oh no it was quite the opposite actually, she adored how kindly he seemed to treat her daughter. However, she wasn’t quite ready to see her daughter and her boyfriend in such a compromising position. Between seeing your slightly out-of-breath state, and Steve’s ruffled hair and glazed over expression, it didn’t take a genius to piece together what had just been happening. After that awkward encounter, it just seemed better that you spent your time at Steve's place.
You were laying on your back, whilst Steve laid down over you, his arm wrapped protectively over your waist, his head resting gently on top of your chest whilst your fingers ran softly through his mess of shaggy hair. 
“...Mmm your boobs are soft..” he mumbles against your chest “..and so pretty too..” 
That’s when you suddenly feel the tugging of Steve’s hands at the hem of your oversized t-shirt (technically it was his shirt, but after he told you how much he enjoyed seeing you in his shirts, you took it upon yourself to wear his stuff more often.) His eager fingertips try to work the shirt off your body to have access to your naked tits, knowing you didn’t ever wear a bra if you were home.
Taking the hint, you sat up to arch your arms up and take off your t-shirt, flinging it off to the corner of Steve’s room. 
Steve seized this moment to begin to leave kisses over your tits. His pink lips, pecking all over the soft exposed skin. His kisses begin to inch closer to your nipple, before he wraps his lips around it, bringing it into the warm wet heat of his mouth, sucking it gently before releasing it from his mouth with a pop. Then his lips lead a trail of sweet kisses from one breast to the other, making sure to give equal attention to the other nipple.
All the while you let him indulge in his love affair with your tits, your fingertips scratch and tug at the soft brown strands of hair at his scalp.
That's when the idea struck him. Remembering something he saw in one of the x-rated tapes from the adult section at the back of Family Video that he'd taken home with him after a particularly long shift. Footage of a man sliding his dick through the softness of some girls' boobs. That evening Steve came harder than he ever had before. His cum dripped over the knuckles of his closed fist, and the only thoughts on his mind was of how he wanted to try that with you.
“Hey…Uh.. Honey?” Steve spoke up, tilting his head up to look at you.
“Yes, my love?” 
“There’s something I wanna try with you, would you be down for trying something new?” he started, the idea of how to go about asking you formulating in his mind.
“Well what is it, Stevie?” you teased gently.
“I wanna fuck your tits” he blurted out, thinking it  would better if he just came out with it, rather than skirt around the subject.
“Okay, I’m down, how do you want me?”
“H-how do I want you?” the fact you were even entertaining this idea had his head spinning and all the blood rushing straight to his dick.
“Yeah like, would you rather I sit up and you like..thrust between them? Or I can lay on my back and you can straddle my chest and then I can push my boobs together.” You explained brazenly. 
“Can I straddle your chest please?” he asked sheepishly.
“Sure!” you said as you got yourself comfortable, laying back on Steve’s bed.
Steve pulled off his sweatpants, his semi-hard dick bobbing slightly. 
Steve spat into his palm, and dropped his hand down to give his cock a few firm strokes, pumping his fist over the length of himself till he was fully hard.
He reached over to his bedside drawer where he kept a small bottle of lube, exactly where he’d left it from back when he’d watched that damn video.
He uncapped the bottle with a click, warning you how it would probably be cold on your skin, before he squeezed a generous amount between the valley of your breasts. He didn’t miss the way your body shivered as the cold gel hit your skin.  
 He also squeezed out some into his hand, thrusting into his hand a few times to cover his dick too.
Hovering over you with his cock in his hand, he leans forward, placing his cock between the valley of your breasts. He takes each one of your breasts in his large hands and gently squeezes them together. You notice his hesitancy and so you place your hands over his and to reassure him that you’re more than willing to do this, and to push your boobs together tighter around his steadily leaking cock.
Then he starts thrusting his hips forward. It’s different to what he was expecting, not a bad different certainly, the softness of your skin, slick with lube, feels so nice. His thumbs find themselves rubbing over your nipples, teasing them into hardened peaks. 
“F-fuck…” Steve stutters out with a moan, his head swimming with lust as he watched his cock slide between your breasts. 
“I wanna taste you, Stevie” you say as you stick out your tongue, just enough so it catches on the tip of his cock as it pops through the top of your cleavage. Your tongue lapping the beading drop of pre-cum gathering at his sensitive tip.
“God..Honey.. Fuck..that’s feels so good..your’re so good for me” Steve groans out above you, his hips continuing to thrust between your breasts. “Love your tits…they’re so soft..you look so gorgeous like this, honey”
His thrusts start to become sloppier and as he chases his high.
“Babe.. I’m so close… ” his breath coming out in ragged pants.  
“Cum on my tits, Stevie…please..” you whine for him, squishing your boobs tighter around him and using them to help jerk him off.
With a few more thrusts, and the soft weight of your boobs working against his sensitive cock, Steve comes with a deep guttural moan, painting your collarbones with his spend. 
Steve carefully swings his body to come and lie next to you, his own chest heaving with gasps, and his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, his cock softening against his stomach.
You take this opportunity to swipe your finger through the cum Steve spilled on your chest Popping your finger in your mouth, you moan at the taste, sucking your finger clean.
Steve who had been trying to catch his breath, watched you with lust-glazed eyes
“Honey, you can’t just do that..s’not fair, you’ll get me going again” he chuckles dryly.
“What? Too tired, Harrington?” you tease playfully.
“Never. For you I’ve got all the time in the world” he smirks as he makes his way down your body, settling in between your thighs.
“Now... Let me return the favour” He says with a cheeky wink, his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips.
Oh. You were in for it now.
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upsidedownmvnson · 7 months
Text
tell me you love me vol 2 | steve harrington
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warnings: fluff, more pining
a/n: AHHHHHHHH thanks for the love
tell me you love me vol 1
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Steve barely slept. He couldn't focus with you this close to him. He couldn't not love you anymore. And it was worse now, like the entire burden of knowing you love each other was crushing his chest. He wanted you to remember your conversation last night. He needed you to. But also, he didn't. What if you were just drunk? What if you thought your friendship was too valuable to risk?
It was already at risk... he sighed, giving up on trying to sleep and instead just laid with you. Steve couldn't fathom a world without you in it, he didn't want to live a life where he didn't see you every day. He needed you, more than he needed a girlfriend, maybe... maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Steve was in agony.
You shuffled in your sleep, groaning and stretching. The blankets kicked off in the night, and wrapped around your legs, and when you stretched he was forced to endure the torture of your beautiful half naked body. He couldn't look elsewhere, he couldn't keep his eyes off of you.
He had to get out of here.
The phone ringing was a good excuse to get out of bed, but he didn't know who the hell would be calling this early. It was quickly answered when he picked up only to be met with a word vomit of questions from Robin.
"I don't really remember but I think I just left y/n at the party," Robin was saying, "Is she there? Is she with you?"
"Yeah, she's here," Steve whispered, hoping he didn't sound as exhausted as he felt. "You left her sleeping, dude. Not cool."
"That's fucked," she said, disappointed in herself. "I was not thinking clearly, I woke up in a panic. But she's okay?"
"Yeah, she's fine. She's still in bed," he said.
"Good, good. I'm really sorry, tell her I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, yeah, okay..."
"You okay, Steve? You sound weird."
"No, I'm fine I just..." he sighed, "Robin I can't pretend not to love her anymore. I just - I know it's bad to date in the friend group but... I love her."
"I know you do," she said, "I only said don't date her if you weren't sure. If you're sure then go for it."
"Really? Do you think... do you think it'll work?"
"I don't know," she answered, "but I know you guys are crazy about each other and it's probably time to find out."
Steve hung up the call after promising to tell you that Robin was sorry, very sorry. He didn't want to go upstairs, he still felt confused. Would you remember what you guys had talked about? Would you change your mind? He decided on breakfast, and got to work making some bacon and eggs, deciding he would wake you up when it was ready. But first, he needed coffee.
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When you woke up in Steve's bed you were confused, and disappointed he wasn't there. What time was it? The clock read just after eight, and you could smell the breakfast cooking downstairs. You groaned, stretching as much as you could before contemplated getting up or just staying here.
You didn't really remember much after the party, it all got a little fuzzy when you first started falling asleep. You loved this bed, you were staying in this bed every time you stayed over from here on out. In fact, you were never leaving it.
Except the distant call of food being prepared made you get up. The least you could do was go lend a hand.
You tiptoed down the stairs, and tried to peak at Steve in the kitchen. He was still shirtless, drinking his coffee while leaning against the counter, shuffling scrambled eggs around lazily.
The sight of him made you sigh. The ache in your chest only grew with the sight. He was so beautiful, and he just looked so... boyfriend. You wished he could be yours, you wished that you could wake up to this more often.
"Good morning," you said, joining him on the main level.
"Morning," he said, smiling at you. But it was different, it didn't reach his eyes.
"Can I help?" you asked, padding over to him and looking at all the good stuff he had going on.
"No it's okay," he said, "I'm just about done. Make yourself a coffee."
You nodded. But his demeanor was bothering you. He was being cold, distant. He wasn't acting like himself. You wondered if you did something wrong.
"Do you uh, remember much about your party?" he asked, trying to seem casual but you could tell he was prying. Looking for answers about something.
"Most of it yeah," you smiled, sipping the hot coffee. "But I don't really remember leaving, or coming here."
And it would've been impossible to miss how Steve dropped his shoulders, clearly disappointed by your answer. You wanted to say something, but you forgot how to speak. You didn't know what to say.
"Do you want to plate everything?" he asked, slinking out of the kitchen. He mumbled some excuse about the bathroom, and left you alone, thinking about what happened last night.
Breakfast was quiet, save for the tv playing quietly in the background. This was typically your favourite kind of morning, lazily getting up at Steve's, making breakfast together, just hanging out. But the air just felt different today, he didn't want your sous chef help in the kitchen, and there was no charming banter. In fact, he barely looked at you.
When you finished he said, "I guess I should get you home," as if you didn't usually hang around all weekend, and added, "I just gotta change."
And he pushed away from the table, leaving his dirty dishes abandoned. So, you guess he didn't want your help do the dishes either? Something obviously happened, or he wouldn't be this cold with you. You felt your throat getting tight, and held it together as you gathered the dishes, bringing them over to the sink.
You both got dressed, with him loaning you some sweat pants to go with the big shirt you wore to bed so you didn't have to climb into your party outfit. It still reeked of booze.
"Did something happen, Steve?" you asked, unable to tolerate the uneasy air as you both slipped your shoes on. Maybe you... maybe you confessed your feelings to him, and he felt uncomfortable, you did this... Did you ruin everything?
"What?" he asked, "What are you talking about?"
"Uh, nothing," you muttered, not wanting to push his buttons. You didn't want to pry.
"Everything's fine, babe." He put his hand on your shoulder, letting it slide off, and back to his side. "Just a lot on my mind."
Even the drive was quiet, and the tension made you feel like crying. He had the radio playing quietly, but he just didn't seem like he was totally there. But still, every question got stuck in your throat. You guys didn't say a word until he was parked in your driveway, hands remained clutched on the wheel.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" you asked, hoping that your movie plans with Robin were even still on.
"Yeah, of course. I'll call you later..."
Now or never. "Is everything okay, Steve? You're being so quiet. I feel like you're trying to push me away."
He looked at you with those beautiful eyes, those beautiful, sad eyes and you could see his anguish, you could see there was something he couldn't say. Words were being left unsaid. Was he scared? What was he scared of? You thought... you really thought he could tell you anything.
"I'm fine," he said finally, giving you another small, fake smile.
You faked a smile, trying not to show that your heart dropped into your stomach. You had this painful fear that you'd told him that you loved him, and he'd wished you hadn't. What the fuck happened between the party and Steve's house? It was killing you. His pain was torture, and you wouldn't forgive yourself if you'd ruined the most important relationship in your life.
You nodded, and patted his leg before climbing out the car, shuffling inside before he could see how concerned you were about him.
You leaned on a wall near the door, just pondering what happened. You woke up in his bed, usually you slept in the guest room, or when you were really drunk you'd even crash on the couch. Did you being in his space make him unhappy? Maybe you were stubborn, refusing to leave his bed until he loved you. But, that didn't seem like something you would do.
A knock on the door kicked you out of your thoughts.
You opened it, and Steve was there, standing still, breathing heavy. When the door fully opened, he nearly sprung at you, not intimidatingly but like... like he couldn't stop himself from scooping up your cheeks in his hands and kissing you.
And Steve was kissing you like a starving man. Like this was the moment he'd waited for his whole life. He was soft, and tender but also desperate and passionate and you could feel everything. You could feel how he felt. Like you were one person. You kissed him back, taken by surprise but delighted. You loved him. And he loved you. And being together like this just felt right.
You moaned, unable to deny the sparks between the two of you for one more moment.
His lips were just so soft, and warm. And as his thumbs rubbed your cheeks soothingly, you thought for sure your knees would buckle from the romance of it all. You swooned, this was real life swooning.
"Tell me you love me," he whispered, barely pulling away to say it. You realize he's crying, barely, lightly, but he is, because this is the scariest thing he's ever done. He thinks that he'll perish, die if you don't actually love him back. And he's immediately returned to kissing you, backing you both up until your back hit the living room wall. "Please," he begged, breathless and desperate to hear it. He had to hear it. He was sure he would die if you didn't say it. He has to know he wasn't wrong to risk it all...
And everything came rushing back. Laying across from Steve, asking him if you were in love. Confessing your love for him and telling him him that you would still love him in the morning...
And you did.
Of course you did.
You think there's a part of you that has loved Steve since the moment you met.
He feels like home. Just being near him makes you feel safe, and comfortable. He was everything you needed, and you two were idiots to wait this long to confess. But, better late than never.
"I love you," you whispered, mumbling against his lips, returning his feverish kisses. His hands trailed down to your hips, gripping tightly and pressing himself into you. Trying to mold himself to you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him as close as he could get. He was a part of you, a part of your heart.
His tongue rolled into your mouth, and the grip he had on your hips tightened, making you moan again. And then he slowed, kissing you slowly. He sucked your bottom lip between his teeth, and pulled away, letting it slip out of his grip and back into place. He kissed you tenderly a few times.
"Say it again," he said, pulling back and resting his forehead against yours. It wasn't demanding, it was loving. He wanted to hear you say it over and over for the rest of his life.
You were breathless, but you still whispered, "I love you."
"I love you," he said, kissing you one more time. "I can't stop it, I don't want to stop it," he said. "I love you, y/n. And I want to be with you... if you'll have me."
"I love you Steve," you said, relieved that you could just love him without the longing, without the pining, and the hiding. You two were free.
"Again," he demanded, smiling, and the smile made it all the way back to his eyes. And he was himself again.
"Don't want to wear it out," you laughed, pulling him into a hug. And you held him there for a while.
"Never," he whispered, "I'll never get tired of it, I promise you that."
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TAGLIST: @thebeatles-world @thatbItchs-world @plk-18 @pausmoon @onlyangle1
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taintedcigs · 8 days
Text
— hardest of hearts
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“darling heart, I loved you from the start. but you'll never know what a fool I've been.” ‹‹ — florence + the machine, hardest of hearts.
pairing: steve harrington x f!reader
summary: jealousy has never been your strongest suit. you realize that even better when you see steve and nancy in close proximity. based on this prompt by @dumplingsjinson (wc: 1.6k+)
warnings: just absolute fluff, maybe tiny angst, and making out, they kinda go hard at it for no reason, this is just an excuse for me to ramble abt how pretty steve is bye.
author's note: ohh if u want pls listen to hardest of hearts by florence + the machine when u r reading!! luv that song <3 and again. ignore the corny summary and i didnt proof-read and wrote this shitty thing in 30 mins yada yada!!! based on this amazing request i got from my lolo bean angel @lofaewrites i hope u like it MWAHHHHH!!!!
pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.
Jealousy.
That ugly feeling clawed at your insides, consuming you whole, bringing out the worst in you and you knew it, yet you couldn't help it. Finding yourself powerless against its caging grip.
The venomous glare you threw at the two of them surely had to burn off Steve's back, but they remained rooted to their spot, talking about whatever the fuck, while Nancy lingered far too close to him for your liking.
Her curls danced in the dim light, swaying with each infectious giggle that escaped her lips at his jokes. The sight of her head thrown back in mirth only made your blood boil more with it.
You wondered what the fuck was so funny that he felt compelled to whisper to her, the sight of them so close to each other had your entire body feeling hot, an ugly feeling consuming you whole. The fragile porcelain filled with alcohol threatened to break under your harsh grip.
And of course, you couldn't help the way you act entirely unreasonable when he comes back to the booth.
Cold, a total raging bitch, your mouth feeling hot the more you snapped at him. And he knew, he knew the exact reason for your attitude. Yet, he couldn't help but find it adorable. How your lips downturn as you scoff at him, just because you're jealous.
You storm out to catch your breath and get some cold air, his footsteps fall into sync behind you, because he can see right through the facade you desperately clung to, see the way your doe eyes flash hurt, thick lashes hiding your disappointment behind the anger.
You lean against the brick wall of the bar, the chilly Hawkins air seeping through the fabric of your coat, almost enough to calm you down before you can hear Steve's hesitant footsteps as he closes the distance between you.
He's making you so pathetic.
The concern in his eyes mirrors the ache in your chest, gaze searching yours for answers you were reluctant to give.
"Is something wrong?" He asked, tone merely honey-glazed.
He didn't let you answer, instead following up with a, "Or are you just... jealous?" That stupid smirk lingers on his lips, making your insides gooey, while you wore that scowl as your mask.
"What?" You scoffed, playing dumb, as you crossed your arms against your chest, almost to protect your feelings.
"Oh my god, you so are," he teases, that damned smirk stretching his mouth into a full grin, reaching all the way to his eyes, causing them to crinkle, so pretty that you are melting all over.
"Shut up, Harrington," you murmur, heat spreading across your cheeks, gaze unable to avoid him. Pools of warm honey-toned brown eyes drawing you in so effortlessly.
"God, do you still not believe me?" He shakes his head with a slight huff, shoulders slumping in defeat.
You know exactly what he's talking about, with the way his brows quirk up, and he tugs at his silky hair in frustration.
Steve told you he liked you. A couple of days ago. But you just scoffed and huffed, rolling your eyes in his face.
You couldn't—more so—you just didn't want to believe it. You thought it was too good to be true.
Couldn't believe that he would want you when he used to be so hung up on Nancy. Blame it on your insecurities, or your attachment issues. Or blame it on the fact that you were scared. So fucking scared.
And you'd rather avoid all of it than have him break your heart. It's unreasonable, but to your idiotic brain, you're being logical.
"H—how do you expect me to when you end up doing shit like this?" Your tone is barely above a whisper, suddenly insecure like you're exposing yourself bare to him. You just need him to convince you. And he knows. He finally knows.
"Like what? Talking to Nancy?" He scoffs, like it's ridiculous. To him it is. That you even can believe the idea that he still thinks about her, when all that invades his mind is you.
"Like talking to your ex, the same ex you were hung up on," you reply back bitterly, words burning your tongue as they barely roll off your lips.
He leans in closer to you, almost to make a point. "Were, like you said." He spits in frustration, "past fucking tense. I moved on, so long ago. You know that."
"And she just said hi, as a friend. Nothing more," he enunciates it carefully and would explain that to you all goddamn night, if it meant it would wash your worries away, he meant every word he said to you. He didn't care about Nancy. It was you. And from now on, it was only going to be you.
You were desperate, so desperate to not show him your true feelings, but of course he could see right through you. "Maybe, maybe she did, but-"
He groans, not even caring that he's interrupting you. "There's no fucking buts, sweetheart, I told you, told you that I fucking liked you, that I wanted you, why do you insist on trying to push me away?"
You gulp when you notice how he has you caged against the textured walls, your back hitting the bricks with a soft thud, his breath flushing your already heated cheeks. "I don't—"
"What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” His words are harsh, not in a rude way, only to get it through your thick skull. Show you how much you actually mean to him.
Rough hands end at your side, that annoying strand of hair falling to his thick lashes, making him look so pretty that you just want his hot mouth on yours. "There is no one else for me but you, and even you can't fucking change my mind, yeah?"
"I don't give a fuck about any other girl unless they're you." Words fall like silk from his lips, and they are heavenly to your ears, blinking quickly to process all of it.
And he enjoys it, sees the way your gaze glimmers, cheeks adorned with a sudden warmth as you give him those doe-eyes that make him want to crumble into you, fully.
You nod dumbfoundedly, almost to let him know that you finally believe him, and he gives you a soft chuckle, raising his brows "Are you going to let me take you out on that date?"
His caramel hues swirl hypnotizingly as they gaze into you, so alluring paired with the striking moles all over his cheek and neck, making you wanna kiss him all over. "Mhmm," you hardly mumble, too focused on taking all of him in.
He reaches up to touch your cheek, fingers brushing against your skin like feather, soft but making you flustered nonetheless, the faint scent of his woodsy perfume invading your senses. "Come on, use your words, honey," he coaxes, fingers leaving goosebumps in its wake as you can feel him all over.
"Y-yeah," you faintly mumble, not so confident in your voice when he looks at you all hungrily.
His mouth slightly curves into a bigger grin, leaning in as he whispers "Atta girl," almost making you whimper at his low tone.
You lean closer, urging his mouth to yours. He groans when you sweep your thumb over his jaw, knees giving out at the sound. Soft candy lips brush against yours, so agonizingly slow that the heat unfurls all over your body.
He takes your slight shock as a moment to slide his tongue inside, a sigh of relief escaping your velvety lips. He tastes like beer, and something sweet, kissing you with so much heat that you can't help the way you melt into him, his touch burning everywhere it makes contact with.
He brings you closer, as if that's even possible, bodies pressed against each other, your breasts flush against his hard chest, and you can almost feel his heart hammering inside, rhythm matching yours.
His cherry-pout mouth suckles at your bottom lip, slight stubble brushes against your chin, and fuck, you want him, so much so that you let out a low whine.
You want to continue. Desire runs through your body like wildfire, burning him with you, but once you hear the honks of the busy street, the realization of where the fuck the two of you are hits you, and only then you break the kiss.
Standing outside of a bar, kissing like two horny idiots, a pretty giggle escapes your lips when you meet his dreamy gaze again, his hues resembling mostly black now, both sets of pupils blown wide. Passion radiates from both of you.
"Was that enough to prove to you that I really, really, really like you, sweetheart?" He asks with a pretty grin, lips all puffy and smudged with your gloss, earning more hearty giggles and a nod from you.
"Or do you need to kiss me in front of her? Get all territorial?" He asks with a slight tilt of his head, brows raised all teasingly, that smirk returning like it ever left, making you huff.
You elbow him playfully before you fist his shirt, bringing him in much more close proximity, again. "Shut up and kiss me again, Harrington."
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writingdumpster · 8 months
Text
needy
pairing: Steve Harrington x reader
warnings: SMUT 18+, p in v, size kink, creampie, dumbification, daddy! kink, nipple/breast play, gentle dom dynamics, soft aftercare
summary: no plot, clingy reader being fucked
word count: 1.3k
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“I need you, Steve,” you called. 
You were laying on your back, pressed against your sheets. Your arms were thrown back against the mattress as you gazed up at Steve as if he was a god. He was naked, as were you, but you preferred to look at him. He felt the same way about you. Steve was climbing onto the bed. Your knees were bent, legs raised and spread as you waited for Steve to fill the space between them. 
“What do you need, princess? Hmm? You need to be fucked?” Steve taunted. He kneeled between your legs, leaning forward slightly and planting a hand firmly against your waist. He took his thick hard cock in his hand. He started teasing you, running the head of his cock up and down your folds, collecting your wetness and spreading it around your cunt. 
“Please, daddy. Been thinking about it all day,” you whimpered. You’d been horny all day. You had been waiting for Steve in his favorite lingerie set when he came home. It had been a very nice surprise for Steve. After a hard day seeing his wife dress up for him because she was so desperate for his cock was a nice treat. And now he had you right where he wanted you. Steve tapped the tip of his dick against your clit twice before carefully slipping the tip into your soaked hole. He pushed into you in one slow thrust, leaning forward so his hands were planted on either side of your body. 
“Better, princess?” Steve teased you. 
“Yes, daddy,” you responded obediently as he began rocking his hips against you. He wasn’t giving you his whole length yet. He was too big for that. Steve always took the time to warm you up, but he always gave you his whole cock too. 
“This what you been thinking about all day?” Steve taunted. His thrusts were shallow, but his pace was quicker than he usually started with. He’d missed you that day too. 
“Been thinking about you filling me up,” you said. Steve groaned. You hadn’t had anything else on your mind all day. It was lucky that Steve had gotten a job that let you stay home. Your pretty little head could stay empty while Steve filled you up. 
“Me too, baby,” Steve told you. “I want your pussy to be nice and full when you go to bed tonight.” Steve leaned down to kiss you. You wrapped your legs around his hips, heels digging into his ass. As he leaned down his cock pushed farther into you, filling you all the way up and prodding into your cervix gently. You moaned into Steve’s mouth. He was moving his hips at a slow pace. His thrusts were short but deep, keeping himself inside you as much as he could. He raised one of his hands to your breast, cupping and squeezing it tenderly. He started rubbing his thumbs against your erect nipples. Steve swallowed your moans as he continued exploring your mouth with his tongue, seemingly unable to stop kissing you. He finally pulled away and leaned back slightly.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” Steve cooed. He gave you a mischievous smirk before he changed the pace and depth of his thrusts, pulling out further than before. The sound of skin slapping against skin started filling the air as he fucked you slow and hard. Both of his hands were on your breasts now. He was squeezing and fondling them shamelessly. He’d always loved the way they bounced when he fucked you. Your mouth was hanging open lazily.  
“Such a pretty little princess,” Steve murmured. “You get so dumb on my cock for me.” You whimpered. 
“Feels really good, daddy,” you called up to him. Steve grinned. 
“That’s good, princess. I always want you to feel good.” His hands slid down to grip your waist firmly. Before you realized it he was slamming into you, hard and fast, pulling unstoppable cries from you as you basked in the pleasure. Suddenly he gripped your hips and pulled them up away from the mattress so he could fuck into you more deeply. You arched your back away as he did. You could feel his cock pressing against your cervix with each thrust and cried out in pleasure. 
“Oh my god, Steve!” You cried out.
“You want to come, princess?” Steve offered. 
“Please!” You shouted. 
“Go ahead,” he said. He reached down and began rubbing against your clit with his thumb. It didn’t take anything else. You exploded in pleasure around him. You clenched down hard on his cock and Steve moaned loudly. Steve didn’t give you any time to recover. He let go of your hips and let you fall back against the mattress, leaning back down over you and thrusting more quickly. He shifted his hips and found a deeper angle, pulling wild moans from both of you. His pace quickened for a moment before he made three deep slow thrusts. On the third thrust you felt his cum pouring into you and you could feel his tip rubbing against your cervix again. He was throbbing inside you as you milked him, but Steve wasn’t done. He didn’t waste a moment before grabbing your hips again and thrusting hard and deep against you. 
“Mmm! Stevie!” You whined. You held your arms up to him, begging for his touch. He took one of your hands in his, lacing his fingers with yours as he leaned down and pressed you against the mattress. His lips were against yours quickly and your other hand flew to his cheek. You moaned as he kissed you, his cock still brushing against the deepest parts of you. When he pulled away a trail of saliva stayed between your lips before dripping into your mouth. It made you want more. You reached back up and wrapped your arms around Steve’s neck, leaning away from the mattress and holding him so you could continue to kiss him. 
Steve’s mind was falling to pieces over how much he loved you as you kissed him, but he managed to keep his rhythm inside you. Your nipples were rubbing against his chest as he fucked you, your breasts bouncing wildly. Steve gave you one slow deep thrust, pressing himself as far into you as he would go. He pulled away from the kiss and gave you a dazed smile. 
“I love you,” he said. Before you could respond he was fucking you fast and deep. The sloppy sound of your wetness was ringing throughout the room. You held tighter to Steve’s neck, not wanting to be away from him. Steve fell down onto his elbows, pushing you against the mattress. Your hand found its way to his hair, dragging through his silky locks. Steve’s thrusts were hard and you threw your head back in pleasure, screaming out his name. You came again, unable to get the words out in order to ask if you could. Steve didn’t care. He was cumming too, thrusting deep into you to make sure that your cunt was full of him. He slowly pulled out, a mess of his and your cum coating his cock. The two of you panted as you returned to your bodies. You let go of Steve, letting your arms fall back against the mattress. 
“I love you too, Stevie,” you called. Steve smiled warmly. He leaned down and gave you a quick peck before he started shuffling out of bed. 
“C’mon, let’s go clean you up, baby,” he said. He practically carried your worn out body to the bathroom. He showered with you and dried and combed your hair for you before the two of you were back in bed. 
“Hold me,” you whispered as you cuddled into Steve’s side. Steve’s heart throbbed. He was more than happy to oblige. As you cuddled into his chest, his arms wrapping around you he was reminded again that you were the best thing that ever happened to him. 
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thelostmagicians · 9 months
Text
Booksmart | Steve Harrington
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Summary: Steve Harrington’s head may be full of air, but his heart is full of love. [4.4k]
Fluff, comfort, slight angst, insecure Steve
Steve Harrington isn’t a genius. He barely passed his classes in high school, couldn’t get into college, and can barely keep his minimum wage job. He’s been belittled by his parents too many times to care about their opinion and he knows compared to his friends he isn’t as clever or witty, but he’s okay with it - at least he thinks he is. It might sting when Robin and Eddie tease him for being too slow or when Dustin sighs in frustration because he can’t keep up, but the ache dissipates when they look at him in adoration. 
He blames his failing love life on his lack of intelligence. Although girls find his himbo-ness endearing, his relationships never last long.  Most of the dates he goes on end up as dirty hookups in the backseat of his car and on the off chance a girl stays longer than a month he can slowly see the irritation replace the endearment in her eyes. He was just something to do during the inbetween phase of graduation and moving out of Hawkins, a trophy to conquer - to finally have slept with the previously known King. He used to be okay with that at the beginning, he got his needs met while girls crossed him off their list, but over time he craved more. He saw how Nancy looked at Jonathan, how Joyce laughed with Hopper, and how Robin blushed around Vickie. He was desperate for that feeling of being wanted and loved. 
Even though he's surrounded by people who love and accept him as he is, he can't help but wonder if things would’ve been different if he was just a little smarter. 
_
“Robin I’m telling you she started speaking a different language halfway through dinner,” Steve grumbles as he’s shelving the horror section. 
Robin rolls her eyes at him, “Just because you don’t understand the words she’s using doesn’t mean she was speaking a different language, Steven. I don’t even think she knows anything but English. 
Steve sighs under his breath. 
He had gone on another date last night, but didn’t even make it past the appetizers before he made up an emergency and left. The night started off great, the Indiana summer evening had a cool breeze, he opened the door for her, and was rewarded with a kiss on his cheek when he presented her with  flowers. Valerie had been nice, beautiful, and smart - maybe a little too smart for Steve. Don’t get him wrong, Steve loves strong, smart, and capable women. He loved hearing Valerie speak about physics and graphing linear equations, he loved learning about what interested her, but as the night went on he could see the light in her eyes fading as he kept asking her questions. The final straw had been when he told her he hasn’t read a book since high school and she laughed lightly before saying “you really are only a pretty face.” 
“Maybe, I’m just destined to be alone, or like a back up plan for girls who come back to Hawkins after giving up on their big city dreams.”
Robin sighs and gives him a reassuring pat, “Steve, you’re a good man. You’ll find your one, trust me on this.”
Before he can say more the bell jingles as a gust of hot air is let in. Steve groans as he spots Dustin’s mop of curly hair and hears the chatter of 6 other teens. He holds the door open with his arm as he sees Lucas struggling with Max’s wheelchair. 
“You guys can’t keep coming in here, Robin and I actually have work to do you know.”
“We wanted to pick a movie for movie night,” Max says. 
He sighs softly as he meets her eyes. Steve’s always had a soft spot for Max ever since they’ve met and it’s only gotten softer since then, everyone knows this, but the kids tend to take advantage of this and use Max to get their way. 
“Alright two movies max and no rated r ones.”
As he hears the bell jingle again he starts his greeting in a monotone voice, “Welcome to Family Video, my name is St—” he chokes. 
“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask softly. 
He’s still coughing and panting slightly as he tries to give you a reassuring nod. Robin makes her way to the front to hand Steve some water and finish introductions. 
“What he means to say is his name is Steve and I’m Robin. You can come get us if you have any questions.”
You nod politely, finally tearing your gaze away from Steve as you start browsing through the racks. Steve, however, can’t seem to stop looking at you. He’s seen a lot of beautiful women in his life, but none of them held a candle to you. Everything about you was just perfect to him and he didn’t even know you yet. His eyes repeatedly traced the slope of your nose, down to your plush lips, and back to your furrowed eyebrows as you read the back of a tape. 
You lift your head up and he blushes as you make eye contact. 
“Do you have any recommendations for sci-fi, I just moved to town and need something to keep me from getting bored?” you ask shyly. 
“Err- We have a sci-fi section over there” Steve points to the rack behind him where the kids are gathered and quietly arguing over which movie to pick. 
You speak as you make your way over, “Yeah, but do you have any recommendations for me? I feel like I’ve seen all the good ones already.”
Steve's face falls as he tries to come up with an answer. 
“Have you seen Star Wars?” Dustin speaks up
Max and El groan loudly as you shake your head. 
“I tend to stay away from franchises, but what’s it about?”
Before Dustin can answer, Mike beats him to it, “It’s about galactic adventures of these characters, it’s pretty cool.”
“We were planning on watching it tonight, we always have movie nights at Steve’s on Friday. You should join us!” Dustin exclaims as he tries to shoot Steve a sly wink. 
Your eyes grow wide at the sudden invitation as Steve rests his head in his hands too embarrassed to speak. 
“Is that alright with you, Steve?” You ask kindly. 
Steve’s breath hitches as he hears you say his name, he slowly meets your gaze as he gives you a slight nod trying to avoid choking on air again.
Robin smirks at Steve as she hands you a post-it, “Here’s Steve’s address. Movie starts at 7 and bring as many snacks as you’d like!”
You grab the post-it and shoot everyone a small wave “I’ll see you guys then!”
Steve feels like he can finally breathe after he hears the soft slam of the door behind you. 
_
“I can’t believe you would do that, just invite a stranger to my home like that,” Steve groans as he fixes his hair, again, in the hallway mirror. He glances down at his polo debating if he should change his shirt for the fourth time. 
“Steve, she agreed to come while seeing you in a Family Video vest, I don’t think your outfit is what you should be worried about,” Jonathan teases him as he passes him a coke. 
Steve shoots him a sarcastic smile before checking his watch. It’s 7:02, you should’ve shown up 2 minutes ago and he’s a nervous wreck. He sees your headlights before anyone else does and trips over Will’s backpack as he waits to open the door on the very first knock. 
“Sorry I’m late, the petit fours took longer than expected.” You smile at him holding out a large container filled with small cakes. 
He gives you a confused look too embarrassed to ask what petit fours are, so instead he takes the container and waves you in. 
“What brings you to Hawkins?” Eddie asks.
“I actually came here for work, Hawkins laboratory needed another scientist to look at all the crazy stuff that’s happened here.”
Everyone basks in the uncomfortable silence as you mention the lab before Nancy speaks up, “You work as a scientist? You seem pretty young.”
You hesitate slightly, folding your hands in your lap, “I am young, but I graduated college at 16 and recently got my PhD and my advisor recommended me for this job, so here I am.”
Steve’s heart falls to his stomach, you were a genius, a child prodigy of some sort and you’ve accomplished so much at such a young age. There was no way you would even be slightly interested in him, but part of him was willing to take that risk - be okay with whatever you spared him because it was better than not having you in his life at all. 
The movie is ignored as everyone pays more attention to you and your genius-ness. He hears voices all at once but all he can focus on is yours. The way your laugh ends in a higher pitch than it starts in, the way you softly reassure Nancy that college isn’t hard, but his favorite is when you say his name when you ask for his opinion on the theories the kids present to you. It makes him feel important like you care about what he has to say and you value his thoughts just as much as you would anyone else’s. 
Steve might’ve only met you today, but he was already enamored. You might’ve knowingly opened the door only to Family Video, but you also unknowingly opened the door to his heart and started to fill every corner of it with you. 
_
Steve doesn’t think he’s read this much in his entire existence as he has this month.
The first thing he did the morning after movie night was go to the library and check out as many books as he could about everything that sounded smart. He’s inhaled almost every book on poetry (specifically Shakespeare), astrophysics and European history. You’ve come to every movie night since the first one and you try your best to visit Family Video after work just to chat with Steve and Robin. He was slowly falling in love with you and he wasn’t going to let his dumb brain be the reason he lost you. He forcefully read every book from cover to cover, prying his eyes open with the memory of your impressed smile anytime he fell asleep. He’s made countless flashcards and pesters Robin to quiz them during their shift. 
After two months of revising and memorizing he thinks he finally finds the courage to ask you out. You’re the last one to leave tonight, helping Steve clean up after everyone either left or claimed a spare room. 
Steve’s hands are clammy as he ties the trash bag into a pretty bow, “I was wondering if… I mean you don’t have to… but umm, like if you wanted to go out. With me, I mean.”
Your eyes trace his face as you clench the empty red vines wrapper, “You mean like a date?”
Steve nods, unsure of your reaction. Part of him hopes you’ll say no and put him out of his misery, so he can finally stop learning, but a bigger part of him hopes you’ll give him a chance. 
Your lips upturn in a shy smile as you fiddle your thumbs, “Yeah, I’d like that a lot. What did you have in mind?”
“How about next Friday, we ditch the losers and have our movie night? I’ll pick you up at 7 and we can catch a movie?”
You respond with a quick kiss on his cheek as you grab your purse and head out. Steve rests his head on the back of the door as he pumps his fist in the air and tries his hardest to not  wake Robin and Eddie with his cheering. 
_
You’re nervous as you pace in front of your door. Steve makes you nervous, but you don’t hate the feeling. You’ve never felt this way about a boy before, boys always had a competition with you, a majority of your dates ended up with the two of you trying to up each other with accomplishments, but with Steve everything is different. Even though the facts he tells are wrong, it was still endearing to watch him try. 
You’re broken out of your thoughts with a knock on your door. You smooth down your dress and look in the mirror once more before swinging the door open. Steve stands there in all his glory, hair perfectly done, snug jeans, and a bouquet of flowers covering his stupidly handsome face. 
“These are for you,” he pushes the bouquet towards you with a surprise force that you have to step back to avoid them pressing into your nose. 
“Thanks Steve, they’re beautiful.” You set them down gently at the nearby table mentally making a note to find a vase after you come back home. 
He opens his car door for you, waiting until you’re settled in before jogging back to his side. “There’s a French movie playing tonight, I think it’s about Marie - Annette, you know the queen who liked cake?” 
You giggle quietly but opt to ignore his mistake because he just looked too fucking cute with furrowed eyebrows and a nervous smile. 
“And after the movie I was thinking we can stop by somewhere for a late night snack?”
You nod excitedly eager to finally spend time with him far away from the eyes of your prying friends, “I didn’t know you knew French?”
“Uh, yeah.”
The movie was… boring and bland. Steve didn’t understand anything happening so instead spent the entire time admiring you, the furrow of your eyebrows, the tilt of your head, and the gentle bite of your lip. He remembered you mentioning to Robin that you were fluent in French, so thought a foreign film would be a good idea for a first date, but now he regrets his choice especially since you spent the drive to the diner asking him questions about the movie. Questions he didn’t know the answer to. Steve has charmed his way through life, but he wasn’t sure how much longer his charm would last with you, he had an inkling that sooner or later you would be able to see through his facade and you would see him as a disappointment.
_
You had a hunch that Steve was lying about knowing French and your hunch was confirmed when his shoulders tensed as the ticket guy told him the movie didn’t have English subtitles. He played it off with a laugh and a wave of his hand, but you could tell it made him nervous. You thought the movie was alright, but your favorite part was feeling Steve’s eyes on you. You try to be mindful when asking him questions, keeping them vague and more about opinions rather than asking him questions that have a right or wrong answer. He responds as vaguely as possible, gauging your reaction to see if you’re pleased with his answer or if he needs to backtrack and fix his opinion. 
Your conversation at the diner starts to get more personal as you ask each other about your likes and dislikes. You learn that Steve broke his arm learning to ride a bike, his favorite color is green, and he’s always wanted a dog. Everything you learn about Steve just makes you like him even more and the potential of falling in love with him makes you giddy with happiness. Your hands brush occasionally as you walk back to his car. He bites his lip hesitating to grab your hand as he peeks at you from the corner of his eye. You make the decision for the both of you and take a hold of his hand swinging both your arms as he blushes. 
“You’re really cute Steve Harrington,” you say as you force him to face you before gently pushing your lips to his. 
_
You spend every free time you have with Steve now. It’s been a month since your first date and since then you’ve gone out plenty of times and if you’re not physically together then you’re talking for hours on the phone. Steve’s able to open up to you more than he has to anyone else and it’s only been a few months of knowing you but he knows he’s in love, yet he can’t ask you to be his girlfriend. He does everything a boyfriend should do, calling you during breaks, kissing your bad days away, and hugging you just right when you’re on the verge of tears, but he still can’t find the courage to ask you to be his, officially. 
You express your concern to Nancy and Robin at an impromptu girls night, thrown together after a rough week for all of you. 
“I just don’t know why he won’t ask me, I always want to ask him myself before I see him, but then I lose my nerve. Maybe he doesn’t even like me like that and I’m just reading into things,” you whine as you smear a homemade face mask on Robin's face. 
“Trust me, Steve is a goner for you,” Nancy replies as she squints to make sure her brushes on the nail polish perfectly.��
“Nance is right, Steve is in love with you, but you just make him nervous.”
“I don’t understand why though, how do I make him nervous when he’s Steve Harrington,” you sigh dreamily. 
Nancy and Robin giggle as they see the childish frown on your face. You push your face into a pillow whining into it like a petulant child. 
Nancy rubs your back gently, “Look it’s not my place to say, but Steve isn’t the smartest tool academically. And you’re this child prodigy and that makes him nervous.”
Robin nods in agreement, “Yeah, you do know he spent months reading all sorts of books just to impress you right? He isn’t actually as smart as he pretends to be. He just memorizes a bunch of stuff the days leading up to your date.”
You huff in annoyance, “Yeah, I knew that on our first date when he took me to that French film. But I don’t love him because he can tell me facts about the mesozoic era. I love him because he’s him.”
Nancy and Robin share a knowing look.
“You love him?” Robin whispers.
“What?”
“You just said you love him,” Nancy clarifies.
You breathe in deeply before letting it out, the weight of what you said finally sinking in. “Yeah, I do. I really do.”
Both girls squeal as they pull you into a hug, face masks and nail polish quickly forgotten. 
You fall asleep that night knowing the next time you see Steve you’ll tell him. Tell him how much you love him and how he means to you.
_
Unfortunately for you and Steve, you aren’t able to spend any time alone lately. Work is crazy for the both of you and any time you have off it’s spent with the group. While you love spending time with your friends, you’re dying for a second alone with Steve. A second that only you both can cherish when you finally tell him how you feel. 
You’re hoping you can finally catch a moment alone with Steve at the summer bonfire by Lover’s Lake. Almost every young adult in Hawkins comes out of hiding for this annual bonfire, usually thrown by college kids as a final hurrah before summer break is officially over. You hung out with Nancy and Robin for a while and meet some new people, but you’re aren’t able to find the one person you want to see. You finally spot him parking his car and hurriedly shoving his family video vest in the trunk, but before you call out to him you’re blocked by a freckled boy wearing a smug smile. 
“Well if it isn’t the new genius of Hawkins,” the boy teases, voice filled with malice.
You smile politely, “I’m sorry you’re–”
“I’m Hagan. Tommy Hagan, surprised Steve hasn’t mentioned me considering we used to be the best of friends before he became a loser.”
You’ve heard about Tommy, mostly through passing from Nancy and Jonathan and based on Steve’s disgruntled face every time his name was mentioned, you decided Tommy Hagan wasn’t worth your time. 
“How can I help you?” You ask in a monotone voice to show how disinterested you are. 
Before Tommy can start you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist and lips brush against the side of your head. You turn to see Steve’s grimace at Tommy before his eyes soften landing on you. 
“Hi hon,” he whispers gently, his left arm moving from caressing your hip to soothing the ache in your shoulder. 
“Hey baby.” For a second it’s just the two of you lost in each other’s eyes, you wonder if everyone else can see how lovesick you are for Steve. Before you can whisk him away for yourself Tommy interrupts again.
“Damn, Harrington. Didn’t think I’d see you go all soft again after what Wheeler did to you.”
You rolled your eyes at the mention of Nancy. It’s been years, both Steve and Nancy were over it, being happy for each other and supporting each other as friends. Yet everyone still brought it up because they had no other dirt on Steve. 
“Didn’t know you were home for the summer Tommy,” Steve replies ready to end the conversation with his former friend. 
At this point you see Jonathan and Eddie glancing from their spot near the fire. Both of them looking at Steve, silently asking him if he needed them. Steve shakes his head at them and squeezes your shoulder readying to lead you away. 
“Yeah, summer is the only time I have off now. Between college and my internship. It’s hard out there man, but you wouldn’t know that, would you?” Tommy smirks knowingly as he pushes Steve’s buttons. He knows college has always been a sore spot for Steve especially since he was still stuck working at Family Video. 
Steve grunts in response hoping his disinterest is enough to stray Tommy away from the both of you, but with Steve’s luck Tommy turns his attention to you. 
“Surprised he can keep up with a genius like you sweetheart.”
You wrinkled your nose in disgust, the term of endearment turning sour coming from a mouth other than Steve’s.
Tommy continues to go on, swaying from the few too many drinks he’s had. “Did he tell you he barely passed high school? His dad complained to mine about how much of a disappointment he turned out to be. Can’t even get a job at his dad’s firm with the brain he has.”
Steve loosens his grip around your shoulder, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. 
“You’re telling me your girl hasn’t caught on to the kind of screw up you are Harrington? You sure she’s a genius, or maybe you found someone that aligns with your IQ.”
At this point everyone is watching the words fly out of Tommy’s mouth, some snickering others shooting Steve looks of pity. Tommy Hagan is ripping him to shreds in front of everyone and yet all he can focus on is you. A look of disappointment mixed with frustration glazing over your otherwise sweet disposition. He sees his friends pushing their way through the crowd but before they could defend him he hears your honey like voice calling out for Tommy. 
“What university did you say you go to, Tommy?” you ask sweetly.
“Indiana University of Business,” he smirks behind his beer.
“And I’m assuming your daddy paid for it? Cause you sure as hell didn’t get into school by your merit, considering you spent most of high school with your head so far up people’s asses that you couldn’t get enough oxygen to your brain. Hence, why you and your stupid ass are still playing into high school politics at your grown ass age.”
The smugness on Tommy’s face disappears. 
“And what do you want to do with your future Tommy? Join daddy’s business? Turn out exactly like him? Cause last I heard he spends more time with his new family than he does with you. Maybe he finally got a child he actually loves.”
You knew it was a low blow, bringing up Tommy’s family issues, but you couldn’t care less. After everything he said to Steve, he had it coming and you only wish you were around in high school so you could’ve put him in his place earlier. 
You heard a low whistle from Eddie, “Well guess the shows over folks. And looks like we have a clear winner.”
People start clearing out going back to mind their own business and you grab Steve’s arm leading him far away from Tommy’s frozen stance. 
“Guess the secret’s out,” Steve mumbles.
“Huh?”
“Now you know I’m not really smart, so..” he trails off.
You smile, arms twisting around his waist pulling him close. “You know, I’ve met a lot of smart people in my life, but don't you dare, even for a second take Tommy’s words to heart. Because I know you, and I know that you’re the greatest person I’ve ever met.”
Steve pinches your chin, holding your gaze before whispering out a shy “yeah?” 
You hear the insecurity laced in his voice as you nod fervently. “I kinda figured you weren’t as smart as you let on from our first date, but I said yes because even though you aren’t a brainiac you have a heart of gold. I see the way you take care of the kids, how you take care of your friends. And I love how you take care of me. I love you and everything about you, Steve Harrington.”
Steve blushes, his cheeks turn a rosy hue as he grabs your waist pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so sweet you think you’ll get a toothache. 
“You really love me?”
“I really do.”
Steve presses another kiss before murmuring out an I love you against your lips.
Yeah, Steve Harrington is stupid. Stupidly in love with you. 
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