#steve harrington x gn!reader
Note
So I um I found an amazing video and now I’m plagued by thoughts of sitting on Steve’s bed, him between your legs with his back to your chest, and giving him the sweetest loveliest softest handjob ever, scratching his tummy hairs and peppering kisses all over his neck
nonnie did i or did i not tell u i was coming back for this ask? and i came back with a hunger -- sort of sub!steve, 1.5k, everything the ask describes, as always MDNI this entire blog is 18+! enjoy <3
Steve doesn’t think anyone has ever asked to take care of him before.
He’s had plenty of partners in bed, sure. He’s rife with enough experience that honestly he thinks it would take a really strange request to throw him off his game. But you had— when you asked, “Can I just take care of you tonight?”
He hadn’t even been entirely sure what you had meant, pulling back from the steamy make-out with you on his lap— the usual late night rendezvous.
But still, he gave a slow and earnest nod, a soft ‘sure, honey’ and let you rearrange the two of you til you were leaning back on the headboard and he was leaning back against you. Your thighs on either side of him, your arms looped around his middle. Like a little spoon. Steve secretly adores it.
“Y’know I can’t exactly do much in this position,” Steve chuckles, pretending to have his reservations, even if he’s already eager to see what you mean by taking care of him. Your arms are around his waist, warm, your fingers tucking up his shirt to begin to work it upwards.
“Mm,” you hum, hoisting it higher and Steve moves forward, letting it get tugged off and over his head. Cool air flushes down his chest. “Dunno if you’re grasping the idea of letting me take care of you if you’re worrying bout that.”
The shirt flutters to the ground, forgotten, as your hands explore to freshly exposed skin. Steve sighs sweetly as you trace softly across his tummy, nails dragging lightly as your near his thighs. His cock is already perking up. It’s been interested since earlier, you in his lap and your tongue in his mouth, and it doesn’t take many more lingering touches for it to reach proper attention.
“No one ever taken care of you before, baby?” You ask, lips scraping his ear. Your breath is warm and your voice is low— but the kiss you give beneath his ear is hot and wet. You suckle at the skin, not even a nip of teeth. Desire pools low in Steve’s gut, a simmering heat.
One of your hands moves over his boxers and gives his bulge a gentle rub, making Steve rumble out a soft moan. Your other hand rubs soothing down his thigh.
Steve shakes his head to answer no to your question. His eyes fight to stay open, torn between wanting to watching your wandering hands or turning to kiss you but your persistent kisses on his neck give him little choice. He shifts his hips.
“Not- not like this,” Steve admits, breath a little short already. His tummy tenses when your hand drags back up over it, just a soft scratch of nails. His cock aches harder. He wishes you would touch it, wishes you would reach your hand in, all hot, soft and wet and tug it in that perfectly teasing way he knows you can.
“Sweetheart,” he breathes, hips shifting upward again. You smile at his impatience.
“Can we take these off?” You ask, pinching the ruffled elastic of his boxers. Steve nods fervently, hips shifting up to let you slide them down so he can kick them off. His chest feels warm, flushed beneath the hair and another groan tumbles out when you finally curl your fingers around his cock. “Fuck,” he pants as you pump tantalizing slow. “Fuck, feels so good, honey,”
A hunger for the feeling grows in his stomach, gnawing for more bliss. Steve lets his head tips back, resting against your shoulder and you take advantage of it in an instant; kisses upon kisses up his neck. It’s messy, lips wet with spit as you scrape your teeth down, right as your rub over the slit of his cock— Steve twitches, a jagged whine pushing past his lips. He pants a little heavier.
Pausing for a moment, you pull your hand back to your mouth and let yourself drool over it— sticky saliva covering your fingers. This time, when you grip his cock, Steve gasps loudly. Slick, hot, sounds reverberate in the room as you jerk him, hand twisting perfectly. Still slow, still gentle.
Your mouth find his earlobe, teeth nibbling a little mean, your hand not stopping— and Steve moans a little louder, like he can’t help it. His cock gives a little dribble of precum, tummy all tensed up again.
“See? S’nice to be taken care of,” You murmur softly. You thumb his slit again, delighting in the spurt his cock gives, then dive down to cup his balls. Your other hand strokes along his thigh lovingly, nails drawing lines as you rake them back up to his v-line.
Steve shivers, shuddering sweet whines escaping him. He’s so unbearably hard for you- especially as you rub his balls so perfectly, your hand dragging back up his cock and then back down, a mind-melting cycle. It’s so much, it’s not even close to enough, it’s, it’s—
“Oh god,” Steve whimpers loudly. His eyes have finally crushed closed, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly beside you. His gut is burning with heat, pleasure filling every limb. It feels good. He wants to writhe against you, wants to fuck your fist, wants you to keep teasing him just like you’re doing.
“Oh god, oh fuck- f-fuck,” His words are getting more pathetic by the minute, barely fully formed, drenched in a whimpering tone. “Please, don’t… don’t tease, no- ah,”
It’s not even teasing, you just aren’t rubbing him hot and fast like usual. Your movements are slow, doused in adoration — your core feels sticky, burning hot from watching Steve get all worked up in your arms.
“M’not teasing you,” you say, fondling his balls and rubbing your palm against them in a circular motion, building his lust. Steve’s tense body and punched out breathes contradict your words. He’s so whiny. It’s a pity no one’s ever taken care of him before — though your stomach pinches hotly to know only you get to see him this way.
“Just taking care of you,” you sigh, grip tightening as you pull it back up his cock, giving the smallest jerk. Steve warbles out a throaty whimper, egged on by your roaming touch along his thighs. He feels molten hot, tummy already all clenched up, his cock just leaking all over your hand. Pleasure buzzes wildly in his body, back starting to arch up.
“Hone- aw, fuckfuckfuck, yes, just there, please, honey,” he pleads, voice starting to sound wrecked and feeble. God, he sounds pathetic; he only sounds like this when he's been fucking you for a good while. But a few minutes of the right touch? Reduces to a whiny mess in your hands.
“So pretty,” you whisper and Steve can’t tell if you mean him or his dribbling cock, all pink and twitching in your hand. He can’t even feel the fabric gripped between his own fingers— can’t feel anything except your palm right around the head of his cock, teasing it lightly. It’s torture, it’s perfect, it’s not enough, it’s—
“Please!” The word bursts out of Steve, desperate, swallowed immediately by a moan. He fights to get his next words out as your hand returns to his heavy balls, caressing them soft and slow again. It’s not fucking enough. His pleas fall out all whimpery, “Take— take care of me, please, wanna cum, I wanna- I wanna—“
It’s the magic words. You grip his cock properly, your whole hand curling around him for the first time that night and you set a fast pace- lewd, squelching sounds echo in the bedroom. Steve keens forward, a soft cry coming from him as his pleasure turns into a blaze in his stomach. “Oh my god, oh god- yes, fuck—“
Your free hand moves to his tummy, scratching down to thatch of hair at the base of his cock and Steve can’t help it, he cums, hard. He turns his head, hides it in your neck and releases a whimpery sort of wail. His chest heaves as his pretty cock spurts out his hot pearly cum — coating your hand enough to ride him through it, your hand never stopping.
“That’s it, so good,” You coo at him. Your sweet words carry him through it, your pace slowing as his body starts to twitch back against yours. His cock gives a few final dribbles of cum and you rub your thumb over his slit, spreading it. Steve whimpers loudly. “Mm, there we go.”
It feels like it takes forever for him to settle back down. Steve feels wrung out, feels spent, feels like he had his brain melted out his ears — like he could just nap against you now and be happy forever. Your soft kiss against his cheek has him opening his eyes, pulling back enough to look at your face.
“Good?” You ask, though he knows you can tell just how fucking good it was. “Good to be taken care of?”
Steve nods with a loving hum, a hefty exhale rushing out his lungs and he lets his face huddle back into your neck, eyes slipping shut. He’ll move in a minute- maybe when he can feel his thighs again.
#maybe? all i want? hmmm#on this blog we want to take CARE of my boy#anon ur video gave.... great inspiration for this 😳😳😳#though that was intended to be teasing and this was intended to be lovingly taking care of him <3#jay writes#steve harrington#steve x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader smut#sub steve harrington#sub!steve harrington#sub!steve#i think reader is gender neutral? wonderful!#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington x gender neutral reader#ok that's all folks
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big dick steve (18+)
spider webs and vampire boobs
“if you were to throat fuck me, i’d probably vomit from my gag reflex.”
the rustling of steve moving his head on his cotton pillow filled the quiet room. “what the hell are you talking about?” his voice holding a bit of thickness in the back of his throat.
now you turned your head from staring at the ceiling to look at steve on your left. “well cause you have a big dick-“ “thanks for the ego inflation.”
you teasingly smack a hand into steve’s chest, he held it down with his own limb. “i can barely take half of you when going at my own speed. and i was just thinking about how when you put your hands on my head and give me a little push, i worry i might vomit. i’ve had girlfriends tell me it’s happened to them before. and if that were to happen to me i’d ask you to kill me right on the spot.” all seriousness coating your words.
steve’s big brown eyes stared you down as his bushy brows rose at your last sentence. your linked hands gently rising and falling with steve’s even breathing. “first, you’re being extra dramatic. second, if you even feel that way when i get more…forceful, you should smack my thigh or something. don’t just take it.”
you pushed up to your elbow and halfway leaned over steve, bed head framing your face, “no, yeah, i know that. you aren’t like forcing me all the way so i’m fine, but something i just think about those guys in porn. you know?” a squint to your eyes trying to determine is steve understands what you mean.
now steve pushing onto his elbow with a similar squint, “what kind of porn are you watching? and why?”
a painted finger traced over steve’s hairy chest, “nothing crazy. and it’s mostly just for inspiration. that one trick i did yesterday, got it from porn. and you seemed quiet pleased if i remember correctly.” smirking as you leaned forward to peck at steve’s rosy lips.
he hummed in content, “and i absolutely did. but anyway, why don’t we train you. if you want we can prep your throat better.” a palm rubbing at your bicep comfortingly.
“anything to suck your dick, baby.” already shuffling your way down his body and pulling away his comforter.
his bare lower body was a delicious sight to behold. dark hairy thighs on display, your mind wanting to bite into them. his thick, long cock starting to move on its own, going from soft to hard in a minute.
“excited for my training?” a teasing tone with seductive eyes directed towards steve who laid back down, hands folded behind his head. a cocky smirk tugging his lips. “anything involving you gets me excited quickly.”
“just don’t get too excited. gonna need your cock for a while, baby.” planting your hands to his thighs while positioning yourself.
“take all the time you need.”
you leaned closer to steve’s cock, allowing a small glob of spit to drip from your mouth. his dick twitching at the sensation. steve moaned softly, his eyes fluttering shut and mouth opening in a small gasp.
moving in for the action, you swiped the flat of your tongue to the underside of his dick, going from his hairy balls to the top. hungry eyes watching steve’s every reaction, it only spurred you on for more.
“just getting started, baby.” finally wrapping your right hand onto his cock, fingertips not touching. you started with slow strokes, using your spit for lube.
steve quietly whined with each stroke, his stomach flexing to control himself. seeing that his cock was fully hard, now was the time to begin. sticking your tongue out, you kitten licked at the tip a few times, enjoying the twitch of reaction from the wet muscle.
“baby- fuck-“ a groan cutting steve off as you opened your mouth and took about four inches confidently. lips wrapping around the skin as you bobbed your head, right hand stroking at the lonely bits.
steve moved his hands from behind his head to sit on his torso. one touching his v-line while the other traveled to sit in your hair. you couldn’t help but stare at his long fingers, digits that fuck your cunt or get stuffed into your mouth and you happily suck on them.
slowly you pushed yourself forward, gaining another three inches. only about two more and you have him completely sitting in your mouth. his cock was heavy on your tongue, saliva slipping from the sides of your mouth.
you pulled away quickly when you felt the telltale sign of a gag. you coughed a bit when your throat was free, spit falling to land on your chest.
“not- not bad, but you could do better, doll.” steve grabbed a fist full of hair and tugged. a signal to show what he was about to do.
“yes, daddy.” allowing for steve to guide your mouth back to his awaiting cock. with a bit more force he shoved your head down onto him, nose almost brushing with his bush of pubes.
“atta girl.” he purred with his head thrown back and hips bucking up, tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.
you closed your eyes and just focused of the feel and weight of him. letting your tongue toy with his underside and nails dig into the meat of his thighs. you took slow inhales through your nose, calming yourself and relaxing your throat.
giving yourself a minute of composure, you started to bob your head back before going in. out and in, out and in, out and in. more drool pooling from your filled mouth, soaking steve’s dick nicely for easily traction.
“al- almost there. swallow or spit?” steve looked down at you with a fucked out face. teary eyes just stared back up to him and you didn’t budge an inch.
“swallow. good girl.” steve took back some rein and pushed your head down as he fucked his hips up. you moaned in pleasure at the sensation, both from the grip on your hair and the roughness in your mouth.
“i’m- i’m gonna…” shots of warm liquid hit the back of your throat. you hummed on his dick, his groaned at the action.
steve released your hair and you slowly pulled off his cock, wanting to lick it clean of his cum, humming to yourself at the salty taste.
“see, all we had to do was train you.”
#steve harrington smut#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x fem!reader#stranger things#stranger things imagine#steve harrington x gn!reader
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do you want to be my valentine?
steve harrington x gn!reader
“do you want to be my valentine?”
six years old. with chubby knees and chubby cherub cheeks to match. dressed by your mother in shades of pink and red, holding out a handmade pink paper card. splattered in too much glitter and messily cut hearts sloppily glued down.
your valentine, a boy who turns seven in two months, stares at you with wide brown eyes. he also has light freckles scattered over his face, your mom said beauty marks were from past lives.
“yeah, sure!” steve smiles with delight. your heart beat quickens it’s pulse at the high pitched reply.
do you want to be my valentine?
few years later turning you from six to thirteen.
steve didn’t show up to school today, so you biked to his home once the bell rang loudly. sure the idea of handing out cards was childish now in your pre-teen years, but you always give one to steve and he always excepts with delight.
do you want to be my valentine?
hawkins middle changes into hawkins high school. now at the age of seventeen boy were dumb, like always, but now horny was attached. steve surrounded himself with jackass friends and girls that happily flung themselves at him.
you weren’t even a thought once he became ‘the king’. you gifted him a valentine in sophomore year, sliding the envelope into his locker. you watched as he walked with his friends durning passing period and stopped at his last. carol and tommy started making fun of him when the red paper fell to the floor.
so for the first time, you didn’t ask steve to be your valentine. and don’t plan to in the coming years.
do you want to be my valentine?
scoops was having a week long sale for a valentine’s themed desert. the s s cupid. strawberry ice cream topped with chocolate syrup, pink and white sprinkles and a dollop of whipped cream.
you’ve had to stand and watch as couples feed each other. you wanted to smash their faces into the sugary delights.
your just jealous. jealous they have someone while you daydream about harrington. who you work with while slowly rekindling your friendship.
robin, your new friend, says steve’s ‘got it bad for you’ her words. you just brush her off and ignore the warmth covering your ears.
during your lunch, steve sets a s s cupid in front of you and your homemade sandwich.
“what’s this?” raising a brow at the tooth ache treat.
steve sat in the chair across from you, a pink tint on his apples. “special treat for a special someone.” his fingers curled around the table edge.
now both brows raised, “oh? so i’m a special someone to you, harrington?” trying to tease steve while digging your spoon into the softening ice cream.
“well yeah.” he shrugged, “you’re my first valentine and haven’t done… that, in a few years. so, i have a question.” you could see the edge leaving steve each second.
“what’s the question?” scooping ice cream into your mouth, watching steve who watches you.
he took a deep swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing, “i was wondering, and hoping, if you’d like to be my valentine this year? and hopefully many more in the future?”
you couldn’t help your smile, “got tired of being asked?”
now steve smiled, “no, i liked being asked. by you and only you and then you stopped and- and it sucked. and it made me realize how much i like having those two things in my life.” he reached his arm across the table, fingers seeking out your own.
you hesitated before grazing your fingertips over his then linking hands together. “i missed asking you every year.”
steve grinned brightly, “you can ask every year. when ever you want.”
#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader#stranger things imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x gn!reader
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𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨
𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
word count: 2.5k
warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything)
based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers
It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.
And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.
Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-
You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.
“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It’s like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.
His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.
“What are you even talking abou-”
“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.
“Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”
“God, you are hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”
Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and the boy's chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.
“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”
“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I don't think any of us were that invested hearing you talk about the ‘big tip’ that some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”
“Steve, c'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.
“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.
“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugged, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet. It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”
“What, and just 'cause you're a jackass that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.
“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”
“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you as the rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”
“Well I don't care if some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “So, I guess, if that makes me an asshole-”
“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, and I'm able to do so without acting like a fucking-”
“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”
The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? That was the highlight of your day, because the rest of it had been a fucking disaster.
You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. You'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks squelching wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd burned yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had no choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.
“Y'know what? Fine.”
You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the turn in your evening.
“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”
“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, like he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”
There are protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm still struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.
“Hey! Wait up.”
Steve's voice does make you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around. Your steps finally come to a stop when he calls out to you again.
“C'mon, honey wait, wait, wait-”
You blow out a frustrated breath as he finally catches up with you, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.
“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that’s begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”
You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back around. You lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.
The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. There’s warmth seeping into your palms from beneath Steve’s tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from inside. Your eyes are level with his chin, wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You’re still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.
“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly.
It’s only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face smelling of the gum he’s always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he’s leaning in-
The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can’t think, and you’re not sure you’re even breathing, but his lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You’re gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve’s arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.
His tongue brushes against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away and he prays he'll never forget it. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.
Your head is a little fuzzy when your lips separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you’re gasping comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve’s quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the back of your neck.
“You kissed me.” The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.
“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”
His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — casual, tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he’s kissing you just because he can.
“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”
“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.
“Why-”
Kiss.
“Are you-”
Kiss.
“Kissing me?”
Steve’s breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D’you want me to stop?”
“No. Hell no.”
And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.
He looks so pretty like this, you think. The light shining above your heads catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you fear you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.
You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.
“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to shut you up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.
His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”
You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Maybe we will.”
When his lips descend on your own again, it takes ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.
It’s like there are hearts in his eyes.
#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington angst#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve x you#steve x reader#*
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steve harringtons hands moodboard 😵💫
i’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck
18+ mdni
taglist: @songbirdofthenight
#munsonify#steve harrington#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington moodboards#steve harrington moodboard#steve harrington x fem!reader smut#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x y/n smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader
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question on my lips
kia ora my loves, i'm stuck with writers block on another piece and this is hopefully the cure <3 its all sweetness as usual [established relationship + fluff + 2k words] mucho mwahs as ALWAYS <3!
Steve’s in a bad mood.
Which might be very fair considering the state of the weather outside. Flurries of snow batter against the windows and a hair-raising chill leaks into the panes, painting them in condensation. It’s cold. You don’t want to be caught outside on a night like tonight.
But, somewhere across town, there’s a reservation under Steve’s name that is being wasted. At a pretty restaurant, with 2 too many forks for your taste — but Steve had insisted. Even put on a suit.
And even though Steve has told you he prefers the quieter nights in with just the two of you, he seems quite… miffed that you can’t go anymore.
Maybe not quite a bad mood but… well, it’s a hell of a pout he’s wearing.
Amber drenches the wall of the room, lit by your bedside table lamps — a cozy cocoon that feels worlds away from the blizzard coming down outside. You’re actually quite excited; there’s seldom a comfort like being in Steve’s arms when it’s cold like this. Tangled together in your bed, letting his perpetually blazing heart heat the both of you.
But… he’s still pouting. You’re both unwinding a bit, taking off what you’d managed to put on before the weather took a turn for the worse — but Steve’s stuck, hands in his pockets. He seems to be fumbling with something.
His silence worries you more. Maybe you hadn’t realised how actually upset he was that your plans were cancelled.
He had been mentioning it all week, all month actually- since he’d first made the booking. Some claim that you’d love the food and he loved any occasion to see you all dressed up and drool-worthy— (“Not that that’s not all the time, babe.”)
“Steve?” You say. His head jumps up, hands in his pockets going still. “C’mon, come to bed.”
He softens at your coaxing words. Like the very sound of them, the sweet nature of your words, melts his hardened edges. He nods, tugging off his tie and beginning to work on his belt.
In the meantime, you creep into the bed. It smells like a smattering of something sweet that you know to be Steve’s hairspray, fabric softener, and maybe what you think love might smell like if it had a scent. You sink into it lovingly. Warm. Safe.
Your eyes find him instinctively. Watching, observing, drinking in the sight of your lover soothes you like nothing else. Love spools messily in your chest, like a knotted ball of yarn strewn through your ribs. It aches sweetly. Steve catches you as he’s pulling a pair of sweatpants up his calf.
“You’re staring,” He states plainly, but he’s smiling a bit, lips turned up in the corners. He jumps, hiking his pants up over his hips, and wanders closer.
You nod, hair scrunching against the pillow. Your voice comes out a bit muffled when you speak. “That a crime?”
Steve grins this time. He pushes the covers back, kneeling on the mattress beside you — pausing to push back the hair covering your eyes. He smiles down at you, eyes fond. “If it is, lock me up, baby.”
He pauses, thumb drifting over cheekbone lightly. “I could look at ya all day.”
Something delightful purrs behind your ribs, warm and all-encompassing. Where you would’ve once hidden your face away, this time you just let your glee wash over your face — and let Steve see every second of it. You’re happy. Steve makes you happy.
Steve gives an awed exhale and flops, bouncing down on the mattress beside you. He works the duvet around, bundling up as best he can before his hands begin to search for you. Traversing across the sheets, seeking, til they meet skin. He hums happily. Pulls you into his chest and lets you figure out how you want to wrap around him, like unkempt ivy. He’s warm, as always.
You’re not even trying to sleep yet, either of you, just having a moment huddled up in each other's embrace. The wind whirls loudly outside. You wonder what you’d be doing if your plans had gone through.
“M’sorry,” you say into his chest. It rises and falls with his breath, soothing and constant. “That we couldn’t do dinner. Y’seemed really excited.”
Steve makes a little noise, saying that he agrees. For a moment, your words hang in the air and then he clears his throat, pulling you closer.
“S’okay, not like you can control the weather.” He murmurs his reply. He pulls back to peer down at you with suspicious eyes, a tease on his tongue. “Can you? Because as your boyfriend, I should totally know that, and considering what we’ve seen—“
“Shut up,” you giggle. You poke him in the ribs because you can’t think of a good jibe back.
“Shutting up,” Steve says, before snuggling back closer. There’s another moment of quiet. The window rattles in the absence of words. Steve sighs.
“Just…” He starts. You can already tell he’s got his thinking face on, a little furrow between his brows. “Had some good plans for tonight, is all. Not a big deal.”
“A plan within a plan,” you muse thoughtfully. Steve chuckles. “How layered this night could of been!”
“And instead, you just have to have this, huh?” Steve murmurs, dejection creeping into his voice. Your heart twists. He must’ve planned a lot just to watch it go down the drain.
You pull back from his embrace and catch his eyes, searching his face. Disappointment lingers in his expression and it pushes a pout onto your lips.
“Well, is there anything we can do? That was like your plans?” You ask.
Steve breaks into a grin, giving a chuckle — but a glint in his eyes says he’s grinning for another reason. He stares at you lovingly, eyes dragging up and down your face as he seemingly thinks of his answer. He shakes his head.
“Nuh uh. Nothing we can do tonight.” He says, a tad forlorn. His hand on your back sketches a soft stroke up your spine. You shiver in a good way and Steve speaks again, eyes searching somewhere behind you, imagining something. “Well, not— not the way I want to do this.”
There’s a long pause. At the same moment a soft realisation blooms in your chest and on your face, Steve seems to realise he’s said too much. His eyes widen, the apples of his cheeks turning scarlet.
“Were you gonna—?”
You push back from him, suddenly sitting up in the bed. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest, risking bruising the inside of your ribs with each resounding thud. You don’t even mind because… because…
Steve sits up too, wide-eyed expression still on his face. He looks flushed, taken off guard — he clearly hadn’t meant to tell you today. Well, he had meant to tell you today but he wanted to ask you at dinner, on one knee, and then the storm—
“You were gonna ask?” You squeak. A smile wobbles on your face as you try to rein in your reaction, even as joy floods every nerve. “Tonight?”
Steve seems unsure of the right way to answer. “Yes,” He stammers. Then crushes his eyes closed, dropping his eyes closed to curse. “Shit, I wasn’t supposed— I had it all planned! This isn’t—“
Steve pushes his palms into his eyes for a moment, dragging his hands down his face. You feel a pang of remorse for ruining your own surprise but it’s completely overshadowed by the rampant happiness. You can’t help yourself for what you say next.
“Yes.”
Steve blinks. “What?” A grin grows on his face, like your own is contagious even as he shakes his head. “I haven’t even asked you yet!”
He’s laughing, a glorious sound, and so are you. You're so full of love you feel stuffed like you’ve just eaten, it fills every crevice of your body. You nod. You think your teeth might be aching with how sweet the boy before you is— pouting and giving away his own surprises.
“I know,” you breathe. “But if- when you do, it’s a yes.”
And you’ve known it before. You have known it long before tonight that yours and Steve’s futures are knitted together so intricately that where one goes, the other follows. Still, knowing it and saying it— the difference steals your breath. You feel like a teenage fool again, back to the first time Steve ever asked you, ‘Be mine?’
Steve sinks into the pillows, deflating into them with a blinding grin. Like he hadn’t been sure up until right then. He giggles. Another awed sound, like he can’t quite believe what’s happening.
“Okay,” he breathes. You sink down too, curling up into him. His warmth feels burning hot now as he pulls you back into his arms, the same as he had a minute ago; this time, you swear your hearts are an inch closer.
“I gotta come up with a whole new plan now, don’t I?” Steve asks, eyes shining as he peers down at you.
You laugh a little bit, delirious, and shake your head. Gathering courage, even as your stomach twists up in the best way.
“Nope. You can… you can ask now, if you really want.”
You hope your voice betrays everything you mean; that he could ask anywhere and you would say still say yes. That it didn’t need to be somewhere fancy, didn’t need to be a big spectacle, he didn’t even need to get on one knee and you would still say yes.
Steve stares down at you, drinking in the sincerity of your expression and he softens impossibly more. Smile lines you adore get scrunched up as he gives a shuddering breathy laugh, punched out of him by his own enormous affection. Christ, he loves you.
His hand raises, cupping your jaw sweetly and he tugs you closer to meet him in the middle. You come home to him, lips meeting lips as he kisses you deeply and maddeningly. There are a thousand sentiments in his kiss, I want to marry you and I love you among them.
He pulls back and rests his forehead against your own. His hand on your jaw rubs soothing, fingers tucking some stray hair behind your ear.
“Got a plan.” He murmurs, a wickedly handsome smile on his face as he taps his temple.
You’ll have to wait, it seems. You think you can stretch your patience a little longer, especially for this. Your cheeks are beginning to ache from your smile.
Another quiet moment. Then, your eyes light up with the recollection of an earlier memory. They skirt across the room and land on their target, Steve’s crumpled pair of slacks on the ground. You recall his fumbling with his hand deep in his pocket.
Steve follows your eye-line and the moment he spots what you’re looking his head whips back.
Steve fixes you with a stern look, a warning that says don’t. You move an inch, more to tease than anything — you don’t want to see anything til he’s the one giving it to you — but you don’t get very far anyway.
“Oh no, you don’t—” Steve’s arms around your middle tighten, pulling you closer as you pretend to reach off into the distance.
He shifts you easily, setting you down into the pillows and then squishing himself atop you. You let out a strange noise, a surprised yelp as Steve lightly crushes you beneath him, a slightly maniacal grin on his pretty mouth. His hair is a mess, cheeks still glowing, and he looks utterly in love.
You wiggle a bit, seeing if you can free a limb. Maybe to pretend to escape, maybe to dig your fingers in and hold him closer. Either way, it’s fruitless.
Somehow, you’re not all the mad with the situation; squished lovingly beneath your hunk of a boyfriend so you don’t go scampering around searching for a- for your engagement ring.
“Can I at least get a kiss?” You ask, knowing he’ll say yes. If there’s one thing, it’s that Steve never denies you a kiss if you ask. His eyes look a tad misty as he looks down at you so so fondly, eyes drawing down to your lips.
He doesn’t disappoint.
#written and edited in the space of today#wapow!#if there’s mistakes! no there’s not!#i’m worried u can’t tell he’s proposing in the beginning so fingers crossed#steve harrington#steve x reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington imagine#girl what tf do i tag it’s been so long so i’ve posted for the x reader girlies#ruby writes steve#steve#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington x gender neutral reader#steve x you#stranger things#stranger things imagine#ok i can’t be bothered
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please please feed into my obsession with lovesick, heart eyes, deadly smitten, will trip over nothing just by looking at you, steve. he knows he’s hot. trust me he knows. but he also doesn’t even notice the girls that will come to family video and check out anything just to talk to king steve. he can’t even care because he’s so so antsy to go home and literally be YOUR housewife. he just is like a dog in human form, a golden retriever, he wants so badly to love and please!!
This is so so true, and I think we need to spread more lovesick Steve agenda. Thank you for the request ml!!<3
A girl stands in family video, nearly ready to check out a copy of A Christmas Story. It sits on the counter, waiting for her to pick it up again, for her to hand it to Robin so she can ask Would you like a bag with that?
This is normal. That is, when it’s not June.
Robin rolls her eyes. It’s pathetic, really. She has no doubt the girl hasn’t even looked at the movie in front of her, tempted to ask “Christmas in July early?” But she won’t. Instead she’ll watch. Even if that’s a little mean.
Steve bounces on his heal. He clocked out ten minutes ago, and normally that means he would’ve been gone nine minutes ago, but you were picking him up today. And oh did he miss you.
It was heavy pounding heartache in his chest. He hadn’t seen you in a week, schedules clashing meanly, and he’s just about had enough. Enough of the turmoil that resides in his belly when he thinks of missing you.
His heart nearly bursts when you walk through the door.
He maneuvers around the counter swiftly, past Robins annoyance, past the girl with the Christmas movie, who he still hasn’t noticed. Scooping you up into a hug, he sighs into the crevice of your neck. The warm air tickles you and you giggle loudly. It’s the sweetest thing he’s heard in a week.
“Stevie, baby, it’s been a week.”
“Tell me about it.” Always with the dramatics. He gripes at the way you laugh. “You’re so mean to me.”
You gasp. “Get away you jerk.”
“Please don’t push me away, I love you.” His large hands fumble for your arms.
“Get away, I’m serious, you smell like VCR tapes.” You giggle again, palm to his cheek.
He stops, gaping. “I do not.”
Your chest aches in the most pleased way, thrilled to see him. “Yes, you do.”
Feeling sticky with love, you take a moment to look at Steve, brushing hair out of his pretty eyes. His face something funny. Pleased, but funny.
“They don’t even have a smell, dweeb” He flicks your shoulder.
“Oh, yes they do.” You nod solemnly, “and it’s all over you.”
“Shut up.” He laughs, pulling you in. His smile so close your head feels a little dizzy. “Gimme a kiss.”
“Ok, VCR boy.”
He ignores the nickname, the kiss too important to lose. You feel his grin against your lips.
Robin looks to the girl still standing hopelessly at the register. “Good choice.”
The girl deflates, walking out the door, indifferent to the movie she leaves on the counter.
Steve looks up for the first time. “What’s her problem?”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x y/n fluff#steve harrington x fem! reader#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington x gender neutral reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff
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Idea: bf!!stevie who’s lovesick and has to Jack off after every date, and you who somehow get that information out of him
Something silly but sweet! <3
omg i'm so sorry this took me so long, i've been hella busy. but i finally got around to writing it and it got away from me!!! i hope this is what you were looking for hehe | gn!reader, handjob, kind of slightly subby steve? idk. 1.4k. mdni!!! 18+ only!!!
happy to help
“What were you doing when I called last night?” Your question is totally innocent, completely curious as to why Steve didn’t answer when you called his house, and yet, he flushes, pink crawling up his neck to his cheeks. “Thought you would’ve been home by then.”
“Yeah, I-I was—“ Steve stutters, suddenly nervous as his mind flashes to the memories of what he’d actually been doing.
You pout so sweetly it kills Steve, your bottom lip pushing out, brows furrowing, “Well then why didn’t you answer?” He knows you’re not mad with the way your fingers play with his as you stare up at him.
“Uh…” he’s not sure how to answer without revealing that he’d dropped you off at home after your date, went back to his own house, and immediately had to jack off to the thought of you.
It’s not his fault, okay? You’re perfect in every way — funny, kind, smart, and yeah, so fucking beautiful. The relationship is still fairly new, so you haven’t had sex yet, which is totally okay, Steve would never pressure you to do anything you didn’t want to do, but he’s still a man. He has needs, alright? So, yeah, he has to jerk off as soon as he gets home every time he sees you.
And last night, he hadn’t been expecting you to call so soon after your date — not that he would ever mind — so he was a bit preoccupied, with his fist around his cock, filthy sounds echoing in his room as he fucked up into his hand, wishing it was you. And then you called, pretty voice crackling over the answering machine, and Steve was done for. He’d called you back, of course, just as soon as he’d cleaned up, so you were none the wiser.
When he doesn’t answer your question right away, you giggle and tease, “What, were you jerking off or something?”
Steve’s eyes go wide at that, cheeks impossibly pinker as he stumbles over his response, “Wh-what? No, I—“
You quickly sit up from where you’ve been laying in his lap, your own eyes going wide as you giggle again, “Oh my god! You totally were!”
Even though he doesn’t have any reason to be, Steve is thoroughly embarrassed, head tipping back onto the couch with a loud groan, hands pulling from your grasp to cover his face. He speaks from behind his hands, voice weak and muffled, “Shut up! So what if I was. I’m not saying I was, but if I was…”
“Stevie,” you coo softly, fingers wrapping delicately around his wrists, pulling them from his face, “there’s nothing wrong with that! Hell, I got myself off last night, too.”
Steve nearly chokes at that, shifting uncomfortably, “Oh my god, you can’t just say that shit, babe.”
“Why not?” you know you’re being a menace now, but you can’t help it.
“‘Cause I’m gonna have to do it again!”
“Well, what if I wanna help?” you ask coyly, pushing your lips out into another pout as you lean in closer to Steve.
“Christ, baby—“ Steve’s chest heaves, eyes darting almost frantically from your eyes to your lips, “I-I don’t… don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with yet, and—“
“Stevie, I just said I want to. If you want me to, that is…”
“Shit, of course I do, honey, I just—“
“So let me,” you huff, cutting Steve off with a kiss as you shift up onto your knees. The couch cushions dip as you throw one leg over Steve’s lap and settle against his thighs, mouth still on his.
Steve’s breath catches in his throat at your sudden movement, hands moving to your waist to hold you close as you kiss. It’s a bit messy, your lips sliding against his as your hands make their way down his torso, fingers playing with the string of his sweatpants. You can feel him hard against your thigh, and fuck, you want nothing more than to touch him. So you do, hand slipping under the band of his sweatpants and underwear.
This is not how you expected your first time doing this with Steve to go, but you can’t say you’re mad about it. He fucking full-body shudders as your thumb brushes over the tip of his cock, fingertips trailing down his length until you can wrap your hand around his cock near the base. You stroke up towards the tip, though it’s a bit difficult with his boxers still on.
“Can you… ’s hard to touch you like this, can you just—“ you’re not even finished with your question before Steve is shifting you off of his lap so he can shove his pants down his hips. You know Steve’s big, it’s not exactly a secret, but you’re more than a little distracted at the sight of him, “Fuck, Steve, you’re huge.“
He’s already flushed, but the color travels to the tips of his ears and down his neck. He opens his mouth to say something, or maybe laugh, but it gets cut off when you spit in your hand before curling your fingers around him again. You pump him slowly, nearly painfully so, and he groans, a sound that makes you feel hot all over, “Ah, baby, f-fuck—“
“Like that?” you ask, finally pulling your gaze away from your hand to glance up to his face, and find him with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, eyes fighting to stay open.
“Faster?” Steve pants, eyes meeting yours for only a moment. He’s mesmerized by the motion of your hand, how it looks around his cock. Your hand is so much prettier than his, and he wants to commit it to memory for when you’re not around.
You hum in acknowledgment under your breath and do as he asks, picking up the pace of your hand, twisting your wrist as you stroke up towards the head. Steve’s eyes squeeze shut, no matter how hard he’s trying to fight it, a stuttered breath escaping his lips as he presses his head to the couch cushions behind him.
The moles dotting his tanned skin that you love so much are on full display, and you can’t resist the urge to lean in and press wet kisses to the expanse of his neck, trailing them up towards his jaw. Steve whines as your hand tightens around him, thumb rubbing over the messy slit of his cock when your hand comes back up. He really is making a mess, precum dribbling from the tip and down the shaft, smearing across his tensed stomach, near his belly button.
You watch in awe as his tummy clenches, his cock twitching in your hand. It seems like he can’t help himself as his hips thrust up into your touch, another whiny moan escaping his lips, “Oh god, honey, you’re so— nngh— god, you’re so perfect, y’hand feels so good—“
“Y’gonna cum for me, Stevie?” you ask softly, nipping at his neck and his jaw, your hand trailing down to his balls to fondle them gently, “Gonna cum all over my hand?”
“Yes, oh fuck— fuckfuckfuck, baby, ‘m so—“ he’s babbling nonsense, you can only make out half of what he’s saying, and you have to admit you kind of like the way he’s at your mercy, whimpering and fucking himself into the tight grip of your fist.
“Please cum for me, wanna see you when you cum, baby,” you murmur, doubling down as you stroke his cock quickly.
When your thumb brushes over the tip again, Steve finally cums with a moan of your name, pearly white as it spills over your hand and onto his tummy. He looks so fucking pretty, too, eyes closed in bliss, cheeks pink and glowing, hair falling into his face as he chases his high. It makes your core burn with want, and you hope Steve’s up to the task after he comes back down.
You keep pumping him, a slow up and down, the wet, filthy sound of your hand on his cock filling the quiet of the room. Steve all but whimpers as his chest heaves, hand shooting down to wrap around your wrist in an effort to get you to stop, “Okay, okay, baby, christ, you’re gonna kill me.”
It makes you giggle and you finally pull your hand away, bringing your fingers to your lips. Steve swears he’s died and gone to heaven when he watches your pretty fingers slip into your mouth to lick them clean of his cum. You hum around them before pulling them from your lips with a small pop and give Steve a grin, “How was that?”
“A million times better than my own hand, honey, you don’t understand.”
“Well, I’m happy to help, Stevie.”
“Sooo… next time you call and I’m… busy, I can just answer anyway?”
“I’d prefer if you do.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve thots#kit writes#kit answers
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put away my pride / roommate!steve harrington x reader
contents: requested - mutual masturbation where reader’s vibrator dies so they get a helping hand. i changed up the ask a lil but hopefully this still works!
roommate steve finds you flustered and on the hunt for batteries and wants to help take care of your bad mood.
if you squint there’s a bit of perv!steve energy. female masturbation w/ toy, mutual masturbation, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, a hint of cum play. a lil praise kink for steve.
author’s note: this was meant to be pwp then steve harrington’s chokehold came back strong so SOME plot was made. no reader pronouns included nor body descriptors outside of fleshy/soft skin references.
word count: almost 4.6k
Steve would never tell you this to keep you from getting embarrassed - but the walls in your apartment are thin. And you? Well... You can be a little loud sometimes, much to his surprise.
Not just you, but late at night there’s this faint mechanical buzzing he can hear that keeps him up. He’s tried moving his bed to a different wall, tried asking if you could hear him rustling around at night, tried everything he could think of.
Alas.
You wait until it’s late enough that you’re sure he has to be asleep, pulling your heavy comforter over your naked body and getting yourself comfortable back on the bed. It’s been over a month since Robin had dragged you two towns over to go to some sex shop, getting the two of you matching vibrators because she was too embarrassing to get one by herself.
It sat in the box under your bed for over a week until one day you were so frustrated and needed an outlet.
You’d been on edge the whole day and didn’t have the energy to tease yourself tonight. The toy hums to life under the blanket and you quickly think up some plot to keep yourself entertained before bringing the toy towards your clit. If you had been more present you might have noticed that it sounded weaker than normal, but you weren’t.
The toy had, maybe, 3 minutes of life left. Even in your needy state, three minutes wasn’t nearly enough. You hear it start to slow down, muttering out a string of panicked profanities as the toy gives out on you.
You’re flabbergasted, pulling the blanket off your heated frame which sends the toy tumbling somewhere across the room. A problem for later. You had told yourself to pick up batteries on the way home but forgot and were now paying the price.
Stumbling around your dark room you pull a shirt from the pile of laundry in the corner and begin your hunt because surely there’s two batteries hiding somewhere in this apartment. You’d steal them from a different appliance if it came down to it. You’re turning the corner into the kitchen and letting out a small scream because -
“Holy fuck, you’re awake!”
Steve’s standing in front of the sink with a glass of water in his hands. Truthfully? He’s a vision. Shirtless with these light blue sweatpants sitting low on his hips, hair a crazy mess, and you refuse to let your eyes linger too long but you could swear there was a bit of a bulge under those damn sweats. “Couldn’t sleep.. What are you doing up?” You’re cursing yourself for not throwing on shorts or cleaning yourself up before heading this way because you’re pretty sure he could hear why you’re up if you take a step. Still on edge and wet and he looks so pretty that it’s not helping.
You’re walking over towards the sink, pulling out the junk drawer next to it and digging through on a mission. This night had already become significantly more frustrating than you anticipated and this wasn’t going to help. “Just uh, - Noticed my alarm clock was dead. Wanted to get new batteries in it so I don’t oversleep.” Steve’s chuckling into his water, giving the energy that he knows something you don’t. Normally it would annoy you but tonight you’re too focused.
Where are they?
Everything in the drawer is getting slammed on the counter. The batteries surely have to be rolling around somewhere in there. Steve’s leaning in closer to you, heat rolling off his body and the combination of everything is starting to make you dizzy. “What do you need? AA’s? Hate to break it to you but I took the last of ‘em for our TV remote.” Fuck. You’re gripping the edge of the drawer, leaning over it and trying to take a deep breath to calm yourself down.
Steve’s hand is on your lower back and he’s trying to reassure you with the touch yet little does he realize that it’s making your problem so much worse. “Wanna borrow my alarm? I don’t work until two tomorrow... Pretty sure I’ll be up before that.” You’re throwing everything back into the drawer, tears burning the edge of your eyes because you’re so frustrated. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight now. Won’t matter.”
Maybe you’re being a little dramatic but nothing’s worse than being so close and having it ripped away without a solution in sight. Yeah, you could use your fingers but it’s not the same. His hand’s giving your back a small squeeze while he sits his glass in the sink.
“What’s got you this worked up, huh? Anything I can do to help?”
It feels like there’s something laced in his words but you can’t decide if it’s actually there or your brain is imagining it due to your current state.
He’s turning to face you, bare chest pressed against the side of your arm. Your cheeks are burning up and you can’t believe how much you’re falling apart from not being able to finish. Between the vibrator dying and the way you can smell how minty Steve’s breath is from brushing his teeth and the way his chest hair is tickling you with each deep breath he takes...
“Robin convinced me I needed this stupid vibrator and I kept telling myself I needed to get batteries after work for it because I’m practically -” You toss your hands up in the air with a scoff and you know you need to shut up but you can’t help yourself, “I’m addicted to using it. Like, fully addicted, Steve. All I wanted to do after this long ass day is lay back and make myself cum but now I’m standing in the kitchen looking crazy. I can only imagine what you’re thinking of me right now.”
You can practically feel how entertained he is. Lopsided grin as his hand presses deeper into your back. The pressure brings out this small moan from you that Steve’s not quite sure he didn’t imagine.
“M’not judging you. Trust me.”
Your shirt’s getting pulled up ever so slightly by his motions and he’s trying so hard not to look down and take in each inch of exposed skin. “I uh, - I could help. If you want me to, yanno? Getting girls off is one of the few things I’m good at and I don’t want you to suffer like this when I could easily take the edge off.” Blame how late it was for, blame the countless nights he’s spent listening to you moan in the other room...
Steve’s now cupping the back of your thigh, sliding up until you feel his thumb brush across the bottom of your ass. His lips are ghosting over the shirt covering your shoulder and you can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like on your skin. You whimper out this pathetic sound as he begins to knead at your tender flesh, pushing your hips back into his touch. The past few years have toughened up his hands. His grip is stronger, the pads of his fingers and palms not nearly as soft as you were used to from the boys you’ve been with in the past.
Plus, not to mention, it felt different because this was Steve touching you, after all.
“Gotta give me something... Tell me to stop if this is too much and I will. We’ll get you the batteries out of the remote and never talk about this again.” You barely let him finish before you’re turning your head to finally face him, leaning in to brush your lips along his. “Need you to take care of me. Please.” He’s bumping his nose on yours, sliding his hand forward and giving you with a moan at the feeling of how slick your thighs were.
“Jesus Christ.”
You gasp as his fingers find their way between your folds, taking a small side step closer to him to give his wrist more space to move. The step has your thigh pressing along his crotch, now it’s both of you who are moaning at the sensation. Steve ruts his hips up towards you at the same time he push his hand forward to fully cup you, crooking his middle finger so it’s tracing the outer part of your folds. You finally lean in, connecting your lips in a kiss that’s messy and loud and so needy.
He adds his pointer finger to the mix, lightly applying pressure against your hole. You can feel yourself clenching at the touch, rocking your hips down on him. Pulling back from the kiss, lips glossy, you watch as the motion of your hips both works you up from the added pressure between your thighs and you can feel him getting harder on your side. The combination of all these sensations is making you lose all train of thought. This is crazy, isn’t it?
“Need to cum, Steve. Can you make me do that?”
“Yeah... Fuck, yeah, I can do that.” His hair is flopping down in his face as he nods his head along with his words, but that doesn’t stop him from watching your expression as he finally dips his index finger into you.
You’re gripping at his arm with one hand, his muscles flexing under your touch while the the other grips the counter for some sense of stability. Lips ghosting over each others as you gasp at the feeling. His thumb’s dragging along your clit at the same time he slips his middle finger inside of you too.
Steve’s finally kissing you and every nerve in your body instantly lights on fire. His lips are warm, more gentle than you expected. There’s a part of you that’s convinced you could cum from just his fingers and this kiss alone considering everything else that happened tonight. Both of you savor each time the other moans into the kiss.
You bring your hand to his chest, sliding it up through the patch hair then reaching down to toy with the waistband of his sweatpants. “Can I touch you?” He’s chuckling against your mouth, giving a small nod while reaching around to cup the back of your neck. In all honesty, Steve would let you do anything to him. Tilting your head just right so he can deepen the kiss at the same time your hand slips into his pants.
Running your fingers through the patch of hair, dragging your nails against the skin, the combination making him buck his hips up towards your touch. His hand starts picking up the pace, scissoring his fingers deep inside of you to stretch you out. Not that he’s expecting anything more than this… But just in case he wants you to be prepared.
Your hand goes lower, his length hard against your palm. He’s rocking himself towards your touch, lips parted against yours but there’s too much going on for him to be able to keep up with kissing for now. You wrap your hand around him, cursing yourself for not getting something to act like lube before you got this far. Nonetheless, Steve’s fucking himself into your fist, enjoying the drag and friction your dry hand provides.
The two of you work each other like that, a mess of needy touches and sloppy kissing. You’re pretty sure the both of you could finish like this if you gave it another five minutes.
Steve has other plans.
You feel the vibrations through his chest as he groans next to you, pulling your lip back gently with his teeth and slowing his motions between your thighs.
“So fucking wet. Let me clean you up... Gonna feel so much better.”
He’s fully pulling away from you, eyes hooded and his lips swollen. Falling to his knees in front of you and using a firm grip on your waist to turn your body so your back’s now against the counter.
Steve’s ducking his head under your shirt. You can feel him alternating between kissing your inner thigh and dragging his tongue over your heated skin as he gets closer to your core. He knows how badly you need him, a feeling that has his ego sent to the moon, but he’s not sure if this will happen again so he’s going to savor it while he can.
This damn drawer handle behind you continues to press into your hip. A stray thought passing through that holy shit you’re gonna be left with some insane bruises tomorrow. You barely have time to process that when Steve’s pulling all your attention back to him.
“You ever think about me when you fuck yourself?”
The question makes you gasp, throwing your head back as if not looking at him makes it better. How do you even answer this without sounding insane? His thumb is pressing firmly against your clit as if to punctuate his question before continuing when you don’t instantly answer, “Have you? Because I’ve thought about you. Know I shouldn’t but sometimes I can’t help myself.”
Your hips jolt back as his thumb now swirls your clit, “Yes. Sometimes you come home and I can tell your date didn’t go well... I’ll lay in bed and think about you using me instead of your fist.”
He doesn’t respond, instead rewarding you by finally leaning in and pressing a kiss to the left of your clit, the right, above it, then wrapping his lips around the nub while starting to move his fingers still buried inside of you.
You’re lacing your fingers in his hair, knees getting weaker by the second as you rock your hips towards his mouth. He’s lapping at your hole, letting his tongue just push in to tease you before showing your clit love too. You feel his fingers at your core now, one sliding inside of you once again while he sucks at your clit. He’s already worked you up, he knows one won’t do, so before you can even register there’s another finger being pushed in with the first one.
Steve’s fingers are dragging inside of you, a firm pressure along your walls, bending them to press down just right and - “Steve, fuck. Gonna cum if you keep that up.” That’s all the encouragement he needed to keep up that pace, continue tracing over your clit with his tongue at the same time. Flicking it against the nub, moaning into your sensitive skin.
There’s something about Steve Harrington kneeling on the kitchen floor, ignoring his own hard cock, and eating you out better than anyone else...
You’re tightening your grip on his hair, hips twitching as your orgasm builds deep in your stomach. He’s not backing off. Bottom lip dragging along your folds as he moves to suck your clit in between his lips now. You’re choking out his name, pressing your thighs tight around his head and throwing back your head as your climax hits.
Steve licks you through your orgasm, humming into your sensitive core as he works away. His grip on your waist is the only thing keeping you upright as your body starts to go limp, overwhelmed and exhausted from the night’s events. You can feel him sit your feet on the cold kitchen floor but you both know your thighs are shaking too bad for you to support yourself.
He’s chuckling to himself, admiring how much he was able to get you to fall apart before helping you jump backwards onto the counter. Maybe you shouldn’t be up there bare assed, neither of you particularly care at the moment.
As your body comes down from it’s high, you start to really notice how much Steve has given you without asking for a single thing in return. He’s straining against his sweats, shifting uncomfortably, cheeks turning rosy.
You wave him closer, giving him a sleepy and haphazard grin as he steps between your legs. He’s going to excuse himself to the bathroom or claim he needs to sleep... Make up something so he can go take care of himself.
Steve’s lost his train of thought as you brush your fingers alongside the top of his cock. You’re taking mental notes - slight curve, thick vein to the left of where you’re touching, his hips keep jerking when you gently rake your nails against his length. There’s a thick tension in the air that’s sending a shiver down your spine, the motion not going unnoticed. Both of you know you should probably go to bed, but Steve deserves more than a night of jacking off in his bed, right?
The question comes out before you can even register what you’re about to say.
“Do you wanna fuck me?”
Steve’s cock twitches beneath your fingers and you can hear his breath get stuck in his throat. He starts rocking himself into your hand and if you scoot up a little more - The head of his cock is now flush against your core. You watch as he grabs a hold of himself, dragging his tip through your folds and shuddering at how wet and warm and God he wants to sink into you so bad.
“Don’t know if I can fuck you just once. Think I’m gonna get addicted.”
Which makes you giggle. A lot.
You’ve seen him through all his phases, from King Steve to hopeless Steve, and you never once pictured that you would be his undoing. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in to press a kiss to his brow, his nose, his cheek, all the way until you’re kissing under his ear and -
“Make me yours then.”
Steve bites down on his bottom lip and has to take a moment or he’s running the risk of ruining this for both of you. He’s tapping himself on your clit one last time before lining himself up, meeting your eye and watching your expression as he starts to inch in. Your face scrunches up as you give Steve this gaspy moan that he’ll never forget. Once he’s fully buried inside of you, there’s a hand clutching at your hip while the other comes to cup the back of your neck.
“Feels good?” There’s more pressure on him to get this right with you. You’re nodding instantly, tightening your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Some of the tension in the air being replaced with nerves as it hits you both that holy shit you’re fucking on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, feels really good. Do you, Stevie? Feel good?”
He’s giving you this goofy little smile, giving an experimental rock of his hips. “Feels - shit... Feels amazing.” Stopping short of telling you that he’s already pretty sure you were the best thing he’s ever felt. That might be a little too much.
Steve’s lips drag across yours, moaning into your mouth as he starts to build up a rhythm. Slow, deep strokes. He’s a little caught up in his own thoughts - Trying to make sure he doesn’t do too much since you’re still sensitive, trying to show off for you after years of talking up how good he was, trying desperately not to make a fool of himself.
You stroke along his chin before letting your hands fall down his chest. “Too much going on in that pretty head of yours.” Tightening your legs around his waist and digging your heels into his ass so he’s bottoming out in you. He’s choking out a moan, hips instinctively rocking the best they can against the pressure you’re putting on his body.
“Wanna do a good job - Wanna impress you.”
His hips buck deeper, making the two of you moan in unison. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers lacing in his hair as you drag him into another kiss. The two of you haven’t learned the other yet, how you both like to kiss and be kissed, so it’s sloppier than you wanted but it gets the job done. Steve’s grabbing onto your hip with one hand, clutching the counter with the other for stability as he deepens his motions.
You whimper at the new sensation, thighs losing their hold on his frame as he fucks into you with a new passion. Muttering out a broken string of praises and pleas as he chases his own orgasm. Steve’s burying his face in your neck, all you can hear anymore is the sound of him moaning mixed with his shaky breathing right by your ear.
“Wanna impress me, Baby? Can you come for me? Know you want to so bad... Show me how good I feel.”
You’re not totally sure where this side of you is coming from, but you know you did something right when Steve brokenly grunts out your name and his hips start to lose their pace. You start clenching yourself around his length, sneaking a hand between your bodies to toy with your own clit. It’s rare you finish during sex, yet here Steve was making you think you could come twice.
He’s pulling away from your neck, lips finding yours with a feverish intensity you weren’t expecting. It’s needy, primal even. You’re whimpering into the kiss, dragging your nails along Steve’s back with the hand that’s not between your thighs. It hits you by surprise, that tension building up once again as you cry out Steve’s name.
It takes every ounce of strength for him to not finish deep inside of you as you come undone. Instead he’s pulling out once he feels you relax, choking out your name as he strokes himself through his orgasm, watching as each drop lands against your fucked out pussy. Admiring how pretty you look like this, how much he likes when you look like you belong to him. He’s unwrapping his fingers from his cock, reaching forward without thinking to collect the mixture of you both. Thick on his fingers, he’s making eye contact with you for a moment before looking pointedly down at your lips.
You part your lips, eyes focused on his as Steve’s fingers now weigh heavy against your tongue. Getting right to work cleaning him up, moaning at the way you two taste together. His eyes gloss over, pulling his fingers from your mouth then stealing one last kiss.
The two of you stay close for a few minutes, both trying to catch your breath and simultaneously letting the reality of the situation settle in. His forehead is pressed against yours. His hands lazily sliding along your thighs while yours are firm on his back.
Holy shit.
You just fucked Steve.
He silently gets to work cleaning the two of you up. Taking a moment to ponder between using a kitchen towel or a paper towel to wipe you down with - finally deciding that the paper towel was probably cleaner. He’s delicate with you. Catching your eye and waiting for the small nod of permission before reaching out to wipe your inner thighs. You grip his shoulder as he wipes at your core, heat rising to your cheeks before giggling out some apology about still being sensitive.
As if you need to apologize.
You watch, entranced by seeing him this up close, as he twists his head, pressing a small kiss to your fingers still resting on him, then stepping back and out of your touch. He toss the paper towels away before moving to grab the discarded cup of water from earlier. Filling it under the tap while he yanks up his pants much to your disappointment. It’s not an uncomfortable silence… Just the two of you trying to navigate what the hell comes next.
Steve takes a long drink of water and you let your eyes linger on the way a droplet finds its way down his adam’s apple before disappearing into the hair on his chest. Now that you’ve finally let yourself truly look at him, not just keep your guard up against admiring him... “You’re pretty, Steve Harrington.”
He’s blushing, choking a bit on his last sip of water. The half full glass is being offered your way and you use taking a drink of it to mask your entertainment at the sight of how flustered he got. Steve’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand then reaches over to squeeze your knee. “You’re not too bad on the eyes either.”
The glass is taken out of your hands once it’s empty, so you take that as your signal to hop off the counter. “We gotta deep clean this kitchen tomorrow. No way I’m gonna cook off these counters until I know we’re both off of them.” Now Steve would laugh, but you way overestimated how steady your legs were and land on the floor too unstable for your own good. You can hear him laughing behind you at the sight, reaching out to hold your waist and keep you steady.
You both start stumbling down the hallway, a mess of laughter and jokes and getting comfortable with each other once again. It’s not until you hit your bedroom door that you realize... What comes next? Is it bold of you to assume you two would sleep together? Does Steve even want to sleep next to you?
Glancing between the door, back at Steve, and towards his bedroom door - You decide to leave the decision up to him.
Easily navigating your dark room, you find your way to the bed and make a show of scooting all the way against the wall. Your door is still open, there’s plenty of space for Steve, it’s the best invite he could possibly get. So imagine your surprise when there’s nothing more than silence at the door before you hear him start to make his way towards his own room.
Not even a goodnight?
You sigh into the pillow, pulling your blanket tight around your body while squeezing your eyes shut. What the hell was that?
The fact that he didn’t even say goodnight was close to sending you into an overthinking spell - If it weren’t for the fact that seconds later you hear his bare feet padding down the hallway and Steve’s bursting into your room. “You always take up so much blanket I needed my own.”
“I do not! You always get hot while you sleep and kick it off, not my fault if I take advantage.”
He’s kicking something across the room, wincing in pain and stopping himself right before getting in bed. You can just make out him squinting and - “Holy shit, I think I just kicked your vibrator. Why was it so hard? I thought they would be like kinda squishy?” You’re squealing, pulling the blanket over your head to try and hide from the embarrassment.
“Steve Harrington! Shut up and get in bed or I’m going to lock you out!”
The bed dips besides you, Steve laughing while he wiggles his way under your blanket and draping his own across the two of you. “Fine, fine, Jesus Christ don’t lose your mind.” He’s pulling you into his chest, pressing a string of soft kisses against your shoulder. The two of you falling asleep easily.
Just know - Steve still wakes up with neither blanket in the morning.
#i'm back bb#steve harrington#s.h. ♡#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington pwp
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i am also sick and now dreaming of comfort from Steve :( hereby requesting a sick fic with Steve and gn!reader pls and thank you (when/if you feel like it!!)
Thanks for requesting babe <3
Steve Harrington x gn!reader ♡ 915 words
When Steve knocks for the third time, you relent.
You cover your mouth and nose with your blanket as you open the door and block the entrance with your arm. “Don’t come in here,” you warn.
Steve pushes past your arm easily. He’s carrying a small plastic bag. “How am I gonna make your soup from out there, genius?”
“Steve, I’m serious,” you say, though you close the door behind him before tailing him into the kitchen. “You don’t want to catch this.”
He sets his bag on the counter and turns on you. You’re not prepared for his hands on your face, cool and unbelievably soothing. He frowns. “I can tell," he says. "Has it been this bad all week?”
You’re so tempted to fall asleep in the safe haven of his palms that it takes you a second to answer.
“Pretty much,” you admit.
Steve hums and thumbs a line down your cheek. “I should have come sooner.”
“You shouldn’t be here now,” you say, but the fight is going out of you with every second of tenderness. You’ve been pathetically lonesome this last week, filling your home with tissues and discarded dishes while telling Steve over the phone that you weren’t that sick and then indulging in copious amounts of self-pity while walking to the store to restock on drugs and cough drops.
“You should’a had someone to take care of you,” Steve argues gently.
“I’m fine.”
His smile is wry. He lets his hand slip down to your shoulder, giving it a good squeeze before turning around. “Maybe I’ll start to believe you when you can say that without all your consonants sounding like bs and ds,” he says, rustling through his bag. “Deal?”
You sigh but follow him to the stove, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the counter. “What are you making?”
“Harrington family recipe.” Steve holds up a box of noodle soup mix. “Water and sodium.”
You start to laugh but it turns into coughing, horrific, racking coughs that you hide in your blanket. Steve’s hand lands on your back, tentative and then firm as he rubs between your shoulder blades.
“Jesus,” he says softly. “You okay?”
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak as the fit dies down.
“Why don’t you go lie down?” He sounds concerned. “I’ll meet you in there.”
You want to stay but your cough drops are in the bedroom, so you shoot your boyfriend a lame thumbs-up as you go. Every cough ignites a brood of aches, your throat and chest and temples each throbbing with their own special brand of hurt. The one in your temples sticks around the most. You grab a washcloth after popping a cough drop in your mouth, dampening it with warm water and laying it across your eyes while you lay down on the bed.
You’re still trying to suppress your cough despite the lozenge when Steve comes in. When you move the washcloth to see him, he looks upset.
“Your head hurts?” he asks, so concerned you really could cry.
“It’s just my sinuses,” you say, like that makes it better. “Is that my soup?”
“Yeah, but it’s too hot to eat.” He leans forward, setting the steaming bowl on your nightstand. “You wanna face massage for now?”
You blink. “Are you serious?”
Steve grins, suavish and yet sweet beneath that. “Yeah, honey. Close your eyes.”
You do. Steve’s hands on your face aren’t a surprise this time, but the effect is about the same. You relax, instinctively, before he’s even done anything, and when he starts pushing at the skin just above your eyebrows with his thumbs, you actually sigh.
He laughs. “Good?”
“Yeah.” Your voice is breathy and embarrassing, but at the moment you couldn’t care less. “Where did you learn how to do this?”
“Hey, I know things, okay?” Steve feigns offense, but he’s no good at hiding the pride in his tone. “I’ve been sick before, too.”
“Thank you. I owe you my life for this.”
His voice softens. “Don't sweat it. Just relax for a bit, yeah?”
It’s not a hard direction to follow. Steve’s thumbs are firm but kind as they press into your forehead and the areas around your eyes. You imagine your skin moldable as wax, his touch smoothing out the crackly lines of your sinuses until they’re soft and supple.
“Can I say something stupid?”
You crack an eyelid, sniffling. “Sure.”
“I’m feeling, like, weirdly protective of you right now.” Your surprised laughter launches you into another hacking fit, and Steve’s own smile is guilty as lets go of your face, rubbing your shoulder. “Seriously! I couldn’t give a shit if I’m going to get sick. You look all sad and vulnerable, I feel like a bear or something is going to come in here and you’re too weak to protect yourself, so now it’s my job.”
“You w—” You press a hand to your chest, tiny tears squeezing out of the corners of your eyes. “—wouldn’t have protected me from a bear before?”
Steve grins. “And your voice sounds hot like this, too.”
Your coughing worsens again. You shoot him a look to say Stop making me laugh, but you don’t really want him to.
“This is what does it for you?” you croak.
He shrugs. “I’m just saying, there are silver linings.”
You don’t argue as Steve unwraps another cough drop and passes it to you, placing it in your mouth as he resumes his work on your headache. You suppose there are.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x self insert#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington hurt/comfort#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington scenario#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington oneshot#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fandom#stranger things x reader
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Steve thought! I’ve thinking about steve lazily fucking you in spooning position 😇
yeah this has crossed my mind maybe several thousand times so hope u wanted some sweet sweet LOVIN anon cos that’s what i’ve GOT for u !! MDNI this entire blog is 18+, gn!reader, ooey-gooey loving, that’s all enjoy <3 this one goes out to @boyfriendstevie
Some mornings with Steve are just pure warmth. Sleepy cuddles, neither of you that awake, but still reaching out to one other. Love intertwines both of you easily, warming you as much as the pillowy duvet and when you kiss his skin, it’s with your eyes closed. You could find him in the dark.
Other mornings, there’s this sweet alluring lust that intermingles with the love. You love it — how you and Steve always seem to be on the same wavelength, how you both seem to know.
This morning, you know from when the first moments of consciousness trickle in. His lips scrape along the nape of your neck, pressing a soft kiss there. You can feel the shape of him up against you, his hairy chest scratching lightly at your shoulder blades, the two of you cuddled close together.
“Good mornin’.” Steve murmurs against your skin, his voice low and gravelly with sleep. You smile, eyes still closed and let yourself bask in the warmth as his hand sneaks over your waist.
“Mm, it is a good morning,” You says as you shimmy back into him, your ass pressing into his crotch purposefully. You hum, pleased when his hand on your middle tightens in response. You feel his lips against your skin quirk into a smile.
“Oh, is it that kind of morning?” He asks knowingly.
You cover his hand with your own and guide it, beginning to push the waist band of your pyjama shorts down an inch. You grin, eyes still closed as you hear his breath catch.
“I don’t know…” You tease. “Is it that kind of morning?”
Steve’s hand finishes what you started, pushing the fabric down your thighs until you’re wiggling to kick them down yourself, lost beneath the covers.
You finally peek your eyes open, just to close them again in a sigh when Steve soothes his hand up your thigh. He sweeps it back down and this time when he drags it up, his fingers slide eagerly closer to your inner thigh.
“Do you need…”
“Mmhm,” You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished his question. You twist to peer over your shoulder, relishing in the sight of his mussed hair and chocolate eyes. “Was already dreamin’ bout it, Stevie.”
It’s worth craning your neck to see the arousal flutter over his face as Steve groans, tucking his head against your neck. Head flopping back against the pillow, you can feel him shuffle behind you, his heat leaving you for a brief moment, to shed his sweatpants— and when it returns, your stomach blazes hotly at the skin-to-skin contact.
Another kiss to the back of your neck. Steve hums against your skin as his hand travels up, skimming your hip and trailing up your chest. His thumb brushes your peaking nipple and you gasp appreciatively as he pinches it, pairing his rubbing with sweet words. “Baby, my baby, so good f’me.”
You keen softly and your hips rock backwards. Steve gets the hint— another kiss on your neck, then your shoulder as he moves to touch your hip, drifting down to hold your thigh. He urges your legs apart.
The pillow crinkles as you push your face into it, capturing your sweet sigh as he eases himself into you, slow and gentle. It burns deliciously, his hard and achingly hot cock stretching you out just the way you like it. A dozen more kisses melt along your shoulders, like little lightning bolts, as he pushes in further, his breathing a little heavier. He stills to give you a moment.
You breathe in, feeling your tummy boil up with desire before eagerness takes over and you push back against him. Steve moans softly, his breath stuttering as he bottoms out inside you. You moan, clenching around him.
His hand slides off your thigh to wrap back around your middle, properly spooning you as he cuddles in closer. Your hand moves to clutch his, lust spiking as he starts to move, deep, lazy thrusts that force sweet little noises out your mouth that mix with Steve’s low moans.
“Fuck,” Steve curses breathily. He’s moving slow, rocking in and out, but it’s enough to have both of you unravelling into each other. Slick, wet sounds fill the bedroom. His kisses get a little sloppier, messy marks of love all up your neck. He squeezes your tummy. “Fuck, honey, y’feel so good, baby.”
You moan, your hips rolling back with a mind of their own, meeting him in the middle. It’s a perfect haze of lust and warmth and love and you shiver in his arms, already feeling the coil in the pit of your belly. It won’t take much for either of you this morning, you can tell.
“You feel so good,” You whisper back, words tainted with a moan. “You, fuck, Steve— ngh, you’re so deep, fucking me so good,”
Something close to a growl scrapes out Steve’s throat and he grapples you closer, his thrusts speeding up a fraction —but still deep and lazy, enough to make you want to squirm beneath him. You keen back into him, back arching to get the angle just right and Steve’s hand slithers out from under yours, reaching up to toy with your nipples again. You gasp loudly and Steve whines a little at your obvious arousal.
“Can I—” He starts, voice choppy from his pants. His cock is achingly hard inside you and when you clench down on him, you adore the twitch and resounding whimper it draws out of him. “Can you kiss me?”
Your heart burns for him and you don’t waste a single second to twist around, capturing his hungry lips with your own. Steve groans into the kiss, his fingers flexing on your skin. Heat flushes your body as the kiss breaks and his forehead presses to your own, his hazel eyes gazing into yours as he fucks into you. You moan brokenly, pleasure screwing the coil in your tummy tighter. It feels good, so fucking good, Steve always makes you feel fucking good.
“Steve,” you whine.
“Yeah,” He rasps back, voice all whimpery now. “Yeah, I know, baby. Me too— shit, me too.”
You want to stay like this, spread open on his cock while he holds you. While he takes and gives, kisses and moans and wraps the both of you in the warmth of the morning. You pant into his mouth and lean forward to kiss him again.
Steve hums and this time, when the kiss breaks, he nudges your head back forwards— his hips still for a moment as he rolls you both forward onto the mattress so you’re facedown.
“S’okay?” He checks, even though you can feel him still pulsing inside you. You nod, breathe jagged and try to raise your hips to signal him further. Steve needs no more invitation.
He settles down on you, his chest pressed against your back once against but this time when his thrusts start up again, you’re pushed downwards as he fucks you into the mattress. His arms bracket your body and one shifts, scooping around your torso to lift your hips higher. You cry out, the angle perfect as he finally picks up the pace, drilling into you, slick gathering at your thighs.
“Steve, ah! Steve, fuck, feels so..” Your words dribble off, muffled by the pillow as you bury your face in it. Heat flashes through you, fuelled by Steve’s whiny moans, all his fucked out rambles.
“F-Fucking love it when you moan my name,” He praises, barely speak coherently through his whispering panting. “So fucking good f’me, taking— ngh- shit, fuck, taking me so well.”
You wail, burning hot want crawling up your stomach so suddenly that you don’t even get a moment of warning before the heat explodes and your orgasm breaks— you cry out his name and clench down, hard, cumming on his cock.
Steve tucks his face in your shoulder and whimpers at the feeling, fucking the snugness fast and hard. It takes only a couple more thrusts til he feels himself fall apart with a strangled moan, burying his cock deep inside you. He milks it, fucking you gently both through the waves of pleasure, until tiredness saps his energy. He slumps, resting atop you for just a moment. You’ve never felt more safe, squished beneath him and filled completely.
He kisses behind your ear, then nuzzles it with his nose. Faintly, you think about how no one has ever kissed you there ever before — just Steve and the sun.
“I love you.” He says, nearly a whisper. Words just for you.
There’s not an ounce of a lie in your words when you cheekily say, voice still out of breath, “Hm, I think I love you more.”
#she writes! it’s a miracle! EVERYBODY CLAP#stayed up to finish this#i’ve just been so fixated w gooey love. like more than usual#i NEEEEED this. rn. u know?#jay writes#steve harrington x reader#steve x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington x gn reader
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club bang (18+)
(vampire boobs) (spider webs) (big dick steve)
“oh- oh fu- fuck me… ah- ah stevie.”
the loud bass and synth of the club music echoed through the cracks of the locked bathroom door. there was whooping and hollering, people talking loudly and screeching from intoxication just outside the door.
“you like that? my cock hitting you good?” steve’s left hand wrapped in your hair tight while his right held onto your hip as he snapped himself hard against your ass. stomach pressing into the cool countertop, left hand gripping onto the sink while you reached behind with your right to hold onto steve’s wrist.
you stared into yourself, mirrored reflection bathed in the seductive red glow of the club lighting. mouth hanging open, jaw dropping off its hinges while your eyes fluttered with each thrust and deep touch from steve’s tip. your moans started to sync in rhythm with the remixed version of a pop song, you started to whine more high pitched when steve picked up speed.
“ah ah ah ah- so- go- good- ah ah ah.” head tilting foreward, eyes catching the motion of your tits bouncing.
“atta girl. taking it like a champ, baby.” grip releases your hair, giving your scalp a moment to breath as you both catch your breath and feel steve adjust you into a new position.
his legs spreading a bit wider, palms manhandling your hands to push into the mirror then gripping at your hips again. harder this time, an excited gasp as the pressure to your skin.
“be a good girl and watch me fuck you good.” lips attacking your neck, then down to your shoulders before pulling away. you couldn’t contain the whine at the lack of kisses he’s given in the last thirty minutes. “kisses later, baby. need to fuck you badly.” a growl to steve’s words caused you to clench around his slick cock.
“oh, yeah. keep- keep doing that.” steve demanded as he bent his knees a bit and started to thrust at a different angle. tip ramming into that sweet spot steve can always find, the one that turns you into putty.
“stevie… fuck…” only able to get those two words about before more oohs and aahs dropped from your gaping mouth.
“going dumb on me? cat got your tongue, baby?” a condescending to steve’s taunt. you nodded, fully cock drunk with each thrust and grunt that followed.
changing positions again, steve dragged his left hand over your bouncing chest before letting his long, slim fingers wrap snugly along your throat. then moving his right over your exposed stomach, teasing fingers taking their time to reach your clit and starting to tease at the nub.
“ah ah, the- there, yes yes yes! oh, stevie!” using one hand to hold onto his forearm. your pussy sucked him in tighter, feeling yourself getting closer with each flick. “close- so close…” declaring to steve.
“me too, fuck. i’m gonna- gonna cum inside. it’ll stay there all night, our- our secret.” reaching to squeeze at a bouncing tit. “gonna eat you out when we go home.” purring into your ear.
“ah… stevie-“ “i know, me too. just let go.” teeth biting at your left ear lobe, lips wetting the skin as he pulled away. the action only spurred you on further, feeling your heart speeding up, legs getting shaky by the second and drool rolling from your lips.
“cum on my cock baby, you can do it. and i’ll cum in this pussy, claiming it as mine” and stars exploded behind your eyes. a loud, cracked moan flooded the tiny bathroom, steve’s low hums a second after and you could feel his warm cum mixing with your dripping arousal.
steve pressed a kiss onto the back of your neck, “that’s my baby. did so good for me.” and he slowly slid out your hole, both of you gasping at the sensation.
steve worked to slid your panties back on, making sure to give the band a snap to your hips then fixed your mini skirt into place. you worked to fix your hair and what was left of your makeup while steve tucked himself back into his levi’s.
wrapping his arms from behind, steve rested his chin onto your shoulder. love struck eyes watching your face as you smiled at him through the mirror.
“ready to go back?” he asked. you knew he meant the crowd but you shook your head and bit into your bottom lip before saying, “nah. let’s go home. wanna sixty-nine with you all night.” and who was steve to say no to you.
#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#stranger things imagine#stranger things smut
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losers and the supernatural | steve harrington x reader
summary Steve has a theory about Hawkins being divided into two subsets. You try to work out where you fit within that. [4.5k]
warnings fluff, getting together, confessions, first kiss, mutual pining, pre-s4, no major s4 plot spoilers, gn!reader, shy!reader
<3
Steve isn't how you remember.
In school you'd thought he was a bit of a jerk. A hot jerk with stupid nice hair, but a jerk. It's a surprise to see him uninjured for once, remembering the bruise that had covered his face during your last year of school, a bouquet of yellows and purples, and another surprise to see him at all behind the desk at Family Video.
"Hey," he says, at first sounding hesitant and then with a little more of his familiar bravado, "Y/N, how's it going?"
He leans over the desk on his elbows. You flounder – you hadn't expected to see him.
"Hi." You pull your strappy bag closer to your chest.
"What are you looking for?"
You can feel the heat rising in your cheek, distracted by him. He's more attractive than you remember, his big hand scrubbing over the bottom of his face as he waits patiently for your answer. You've never been good with people, with anyone housing a drop of popularity. You'd depended on weird Keith being here to get through a human interaction without sweating.
"Do you guys have Dressed to Kill?" you ask quietly.
"Sure thing. You want me to get it?"
You nod, chancing a glance at him. He's watching your hands where they abuse the hem of your shirt. You let them fall to your sides.
Steve rounds the desk and starts to where the tape must be hiding, stopping a foot away and making a small motion with his hand for you to follow so you do, the distance between you closing fast.
He smells of a musky cologne, bergamot and citrus hiding under a heavier smell, like sage or lavender, maybe both. It's distracting. You're still breathing him in when he pulls the movie down from its shelf and offers it to you.
The box has a pair of long legs and red heels. It looks pretty provocative. Your hands tremble as you take it from him, your embarrassment rising.
"That the one?"
"I- yeah. Thank you."
"You're welcome." A small silence. "You didn't start college in the fall?"
"No. S'expensive. I'm not, uh, scholarship smart."
He snorts. "Me neither. I haven't seen you around, I thought for sure you would've ditched Hawkins 'soon as school let up."
You tilt your head to the side and smile at him in reflex, confused. "Really?"
"Hundred percent. Are you kidding? Hawkins is full of losers." He shifts and you try desperately to maintain friendly eye contact, only he's crossed his arms and you can see the line of his forearm, the curve of muscle. "Losers and, like, the supernatural." He seems to have said something he didn't want to say, a nervous, lopsided small stretching over his lips. He scratches his cheek. "I'm pretty sure I saw a vampire last week but Robin won't hear it, she says it's just Keith lingering after his shift."
A laugh bubbles out of you, startled at his sense of humour. Keith does look like a vampire. Steve laughs too and smiles at you, something you don't know in the way his eyes darken and his lashes kiss in the corners.
"And Robin, is that your girlfriend?" you ask. Purely conversational, of course.
"No," he says quickly, taking a small step away from you as he shakes his head. "She's my best friend. She works here, when she's not sick."
"Oh. Sorry."
"C'mon, don't be. Do you have a boyfriend?" And, at your giggling, "What, is that funny?" His voice is warm with a light amusement.
"No, I’m not dating anyone."
"Thank god," he says.
You flush from head to toe.
He's smiling and suddenly not, hands flinching towards you. "Not like that- I mean, not not like that- what I meant was, uh, what I said. Losers and the supernatural, you know?"
You don't have a clue what he means and don't know if he's flirting or socially inept as you are, but you know what it's like to bumble around awkwardly and hope the other person will save you.
"Losers and the supernatural," you agree. "Which one are you?"
"A loser," he says, with a huge smile. "Definitely."
-
You'd paid for the movie and Steve had chatted with you a little bit more, kind and awkward but still undeniably Steve Harrington. He'd spoken offhandedly, said, "You'll have to tell me how the movie is," as you'd been leaving.
It followed you all week. You'd gone home and watched Dressed to Kill that night, then spent days agonising over how to summarise it in a way he would find cool. You knew it was stupid, it was literally his job to be friendly, but you really wanted to impress him.
That in itself felt weird to you. You never expected to feel like this but you knew the feelings you were experiencing marked the beginning of a crush. You couldn't help thinking about the sound of his voice, the earnestness of it. Worse, you were plagued with memories of his shirt sleeves, how they stretched over his bicep as he filled your details into the computer at the front desk, shifting muscle under tan skin.
You hesitated outside of Family Video to check your hair in the window. Through it, you could see that the desk was empty.
You edged open the door slowly and slipped inside making your way to the desk and peering around. Nobody was there, though you heard voices a second later.
Steve, undeniably. "If you could have, like, a modicum of compassion for me, that would be-"
"Modicum. What, have you been reading the fucking dictionary?"
"Says you! You realise normal people don't use the word capricious in everyday chitchat, right? Tell me you know that, Robs."
"And what use is compassion? You're a sinking ship. Crying about it doesn't unsink the Titanic."
"One, that was a tragedy, so get some class. Two, it's not sunk. I fumbled the ball a bit, but it's hardly time to call it quits." A crashing sound and a groan that sets you alight. "Oh, fuck."
Robin laughs very loudly. You could imagine her pointing at him as she does, the sound condescending. "Idiot."
"You're a bad friend."
"Steve," Robin sighs, "maybe the Titanic wasn't the best analogy. And I do feel sorry for you, you're pathetic-"
"Thanks so much."
"-but that doesn't mean it's over. They live in Hawkins. Their options are pretty limited."
"Thank you for your vote of confidence," he says, monotone.
You think maybe it's too late to pretend you aren't here and definitely too late to announce yourself so you don't do either. You pull your headphones from your bag and click play on your cassette and when the Family Video employees finally emerge you take them off like you've been listening to music the whole time.
"Y/N," Steve says, sounding antsy. "How long have you been waiting?"
"Not long," you say. You're being too quiet.
Steve doesn't seem to care. Robin smiles at you, looking almost as deer-in-the-headlights as her colleague but hiding it better.
"I'm gonna go… finish… that thing we were doing. Yep," she says, fleeing to the back room.
Your headphones around your neck, the metallic sounds of Tears for Fears' Songs from the Big Chair, you give the King of Hawkins High a cautious but honest smile. You worry you might pass out when he returns it.
"So? Did you like the movie?" he asks.
You turn to your bag and pull the tape out where it had fit rather snugly. "It was okay. I don't know, I-" you wince. "I wanted to say something cool but, I'm not very good with movies." Your voice rises in pitch as you go.
You hold the tape out. Steve takes it but doesn't take it, both of you with one hand on the box. You almost feel like you've been shocked, staring down at his fingers, his knuckles and his class ring.
"I'm not great with movies, either," he confides. "I know what you're thinking – this jagoff works at Family Video but doesn't know what makes a movie good? What are they paying him for?" he acts out dramatically, a smirk playing on his handsome features as he accepts your tape.
You laugh and he fails to hide a smile as he logs your return.
"What do they pay you for, then?" you ask.
"What do you think? My good looks and charm, duh."
"Here I thought it was for the hair."
His eyes light up. "They should be! You know how much hairspray it takes to style this thing?"
"I can't imagine," you joke with him.
"You don't want to. I'm gonna have to remortgage the house if this carries on."
You hum under your breath and lean across the desk just as the tape switches. Head over Heels plays loudly, your hands inching towards his unthinkingly.
"What are you listening to?" he asks, nodding his head to your headphones.
They're a cheap set with orange foam pads. You pull them over your head and offer them to him bashfully. He's much more confident as he accepts them, pushing them over his hair. You delight in his enthusiasm, at odds with Steve from three years ago, who would've died rather than ruin his immaculate updo, who might not have even looked your way.
He bobs his head along to the song, looking to you as the chorus builds. His lips form a satisfied 'o' and he leans backwards. "Hey," he says, too loud, "this is awesome. What's this song called?"
"Head over Heels," you say, hoping he can read your lips if he can't hear you.
He peels the headset from his ears and gives them back to you, fingertips brushing yours. Pinpricks of heat crawl over your skin.
"Head over Heels?" You nod. "You might not know movies but your music taste is pretty stellar."
"Thanks," you murmur, shy at his praise.
"You ever been upto Indianapolis? They have a lot of live music there."
You rush to answer. "Yes, yeah! Freshman year, AC/DC played the Market Square arena, it was amazing. I've never seen so many people in one place. It felt like all of Hawkins could've fit in there."
"AC/DC? You like rock music?"
If he'd asked a different way you might've lied. He didn't sound judgemental or surprised, only interested.
Your shoulders hike anyway as you answer. "Yeah, I do. More when I was in High School."
"You're cool, Y/N L/N," he says, palms braced on the desk.
You squeeze the headphones in your hands and try not to show how affected you are. "I'm not."
"You are. Too cool for Hawkins."
"Losers and the supernatural," you recall.
His grin is dizzying. "Exactly."
You can't take the intensity of it, of how bright his smile is and how it makes you nervous. You look away from him, eyes scanning the shelves, some half-stocked.
"You caught us on a Monday. Quietest day, so we're rearranging. Or, we should be."
"I'm sorry! Am I keeping you?" You turn back to him quickly.
Steve crosses his arms. "No way. Like I said, quietest day. You're the best part of my week."
He probably doesn't mean it the way you think he does, or if he does he's only joking, you argue with yourself.
He's watching you. "You want help finding another movie?"
He's around the desk and at your side before you can say yes, smelling strongly of that bergamot musk. You sink a little bit further, reckoning that Robin's Titanic analogy was spot on.
-
Six visits to Family Video later, you're thinking about returning a movie Steve has picked out for you – Sixteen Candles, which you've already seen but lied about so you can listen to him sell it – when you run into him at Bradley's Big Buy.
A cart full of groceries, you feel shocked and then silly. Of course he buys groceries. Everybody buys groceries, and it's imperative that you hide from him in your own grocery outfit - jeans and a paint speckled t-shirt from your Hawkins High days, a gym shirt with your name written across the front in teenage handwriting.
You're so busy hiding you don't hear him approach.
"Hey, Y/N," he says.
You bring your basket to your chest in hopes of hiding your shirt. It doesn't work.
"Nice shirt."
You grimace, about to explain how it's wash day and you don't always dress like an idiot, you swear, but he starts to pull up his hoodie.
You go a bit blind at first, eyes searching the expanse of midriff he exposes greedily moments before he finds the hem of his shirt and pulls it down for you to see. A Hawkins High gym shirt.
"Oh my god," you say.
"Funny coincidence," he says, dropping his hoodie back down. "It looks better on you."
You can't look at him, shy again from his flirting remarks. Your eyes are drawn to his groceries. It's funny how stereotypical it is, TV dinners and chips, ice cream, moon cakes. You raise your brows at him and laugh. His eyes go wide as saucers.
"We're having a movie night. Me and Robin. I swear, I eat like a normal dude. Mostly. Some of the time."
"No, I, I'm not judging. I'm not much better," you say, brandishing your basket at him. Slightly healthier but with a similar abundance of chips.
You go to talk at the same time, eager.
"What movie are you watching?"
"We're renting Alien."
He chuckles and you scratch at your collar.
"You ever seen it?" he asks.
"No, I can't watch scary movies by myself."
"It's… do you maybe wanna come?"
You end up in the passenger seat of Steve's 733i, abashed because you're badly dressed and because he invited you. Heart racing, you take the opportunity to admire his face when he can't see you, his eyes on the road as he drives from Bradley's. It's getting dark, the asphalt slowly blending with the sky as kilometres disappear under the BMW's tyres
"You're sure Robin won't mind?" you ask.
Steve glances at you. "Sure. She gets, like, acute verbal diarrhea around new people but she's the nicest girl I've ever met."
"She wasn't in our classes, was she?"
"No. Robin's still a senior. We met working at Starcourt."
Starcourt is a hard topic to navigate. People died. You decide to manoeuvre around it. "It's lucky you can work together again."
"It's not luck. She made me take a movie crash course before we applied, and when Keith didn't seem so taken with me she convinced him."
"She must really like you, Harrington."
He looks very thoughtful, inclining his head towards you though he doesn't turn, eyes on the road diligently. "She's a really good friend. I liked her…" he grasps for words, "as more than a friend. But she didn't like me back."
"I'm sorry," you say.
You can't mistake the look he gives you when he does turn, quick but undeniable. "Don't be," he says seriously, his eyes searching as they take in your face. "It never would've worked between us."
You smile at your knees. "No?"
"Nope," he confirms.
You infer something ridiculous; that it couldn't have worked because he seems to like you.
You pull up outside his house and find Robin waiting on the stoop.
"Where have you been? It's about two degrees from the ninth circle out here! I'm at risk of pneumonia."
"The ninth circle?" you ask Steve quietly, trudging down the driveway besides him.
"It's from that book, Dante's Inferno?" he tells you gently. "Slow your roll, Buckley! I was getting the goods."
Robin sees you, looks between you and Steve with wide eyes, and gifts you an uneasy smile, enigmatic in its awkwardness.
"Hi."
"Hi," you say back, wishing you'd worn a jacket.
"When you say goods, I trust you mean candy, right? Not just your- L/N," she finishes, cringing.
You don't know what she meant to say. Steve reaches between you in what you know is the first time he's ever touched you to squeeze your arm lightly before he pulls his keys from his pocket to unlock the door.
"Yeah, I got your candy. You're eating me out of house and home," he scolds.
Your ears are roaring so loud you almost miss her reply. "I'd need to eat more than a bowl of chips to do that, Steve. You live in a mansion, in case you forgot."
He scoffs. "Shut up."
The door opens. Steve dumps the bag of groceries swinging from the crook of his arm at the threshold to toe out of his shoes and jacket and you follow suit, embarrassed further by your mismatched ankle socks.
Robin gives you a look that says, get a load of this guy. "We're not all living it large. Some of us have, like, a wardrobe for a bedroom."
"Buckley."
She holds her hands up in surrender. "Just saying. I don't think your enabling of my sweet tooth is gonna put you out."
Steve gives you a look of his own as you follow Robin into the Harrington living room. He rolls his eyes good naturedly at her and you press your lips together to stop from laughing as he flicks on the lights and puts the tape in the TV. You stand awkwardly in the doorway as Robin throws herself down onto the sofa, a pint of melting ice cream in her hand.
"Steve, get the spoons?" she asks hopefully.
Steve sighs, a noise only the long-suffering can make.
"Hey," he says as he walks past, shoulder almost touching yours, the gap filled with a white hot electricity you're sure he must feel too. "Go sit down, make yourself comfortable."
You sit at the opposite end from Robin. She's already wriggling down onto her back, kicking her feet up onto the coffee table in a practised routine.
She turns her head slowly, like she can feel your gaze, and scrambles to fill the silence.
"Steve really likes you, you know?" she says, then something goes dead behind her eyes. She mumbles to herself, then grimaces at you with two rows of perfect teeth. "He thinks you're cool. I think you're cool too, obviously, too cool for Steve."
"Steve is cool," you deny without any real heat.
"Are you kidding? Steve is the opposite of cool. He cries at the end of every movie, he keeps his Scoops uniform at the bottom of his closet. He wears a shower cap."
You shake your head at her. Those are the kind of things that make him cool.
She rolls her head forward and shrugs, slinking down even further with the ice cream balanced on her chest. The movie previews can't be far from over as Steve returns with two spoons, passing one to Robin and one to you.
"It's your loss," Robin says as Steve sits in the middle of the couch and passes you the second pint of ice cream. She says it softly, like she knows it's not a loss at all.
"Steve, what about-" you, you try to say.
"You have it. I don't like rocky road," he interrupts encouragingly.
You peek at Robin and she's shaking her head vehemently, as if to say, that's not true. When Steve turns to her she acts as if nothing happened.
The movie plays. Robin makes quick work of her ice cream, an entire bag of chips and upwards of three moon cakes. You're in awe, your attention captured by her rather than the film. Steve has slowly deflated next to you, his arm brushing yours, the fabric of his hoodie soft against your bare skin.
You flinch as the alien baby bursts from Kane's chest on screen, edging closer to Steve without meaning to. He pushes his shoulder into yours, chin dipping back. "Oh, gross," he says excitedly.
"How do they make the corn syrup blood look so real?" you ask quietly.
"They must dye it with something. The chunks of his chest, that's disgusting."
Robin agrees, evidently, because she throws a hand over her mouth and leaps to her feet. You and Steve hear the firm click of the bathroom door and the awful echo of her retching as she loses her snack feast.
"Fuck, I'll go check on her. Pause the movie?" he asks. You nod. He clasps your shoulder thankfully and leaves the room.
Steve returns a little while later. You're ramrod straight on the edge of his couch, hand on your shoulder trying to feel where he'd just touched you, though you quickly stop. He throws himself down next to you roughly, his thigh to your thigh and sinking down. You lean over him.
"What happened?"
"She ate too much and Kane's explosion messed her up. Gonna sleep it off upstairs."
"But she's okay?" you ask, concerned.
He raises a hand like he's going to touch your face but thinks better of it. It falls to his chest. "She's fine. Don't worry, I set her up with a bucket and Rocky Horror."
"You have a TV in your room?"
Steve chuckles. "That's what you got from all that?"
"Robin's right. You're loaded."
"I'm not loaded. My dad's pretty comfortable." He pouts just slightly. "You wanna finish the movie?"
"Yeah."
You pass him the remote and he dutifully unpauses. It plays for only a few minutes before you want to talk to him again.
"Would you kill the baby alien?" you ask.
"Definitely."
"It's a baby." .
He looks at you skeptically. "A baby that's gonna grow up. Trust me, it might look cute when it's not eating through your diaphragm, but that's what it wants you to think. Soon enough it'll be the size of a city rat and murdering your house pets."
"You sound like you have experience with this."
You think it's cute, how passionate he sounds, his enthused hypothetical. Steve ruffles his hair, scratching at his scalp lightly, his watch strap tugging at soft strands. He hisses and you reach forward to untangle a piece of hair from the clasp, holding very still as you do, your fingers methodical. You flatten his hair, combing the mess back into place.
"Thanks," he says slowly, his eyes on your lips.
You lower your trembling hand. "Don't mention it."
The two of you turn resolutely to the TV. Your face burns, your chest burns worse, and you demean yourself for thinking that Steve might kiss you.
"Robin said-" you start.
"I was wondering-" Steve tries simultaneously.
"You go," you tell him.
He narrows his eyes.
"What did Robin tell you?" Steve asks. You bite your lips until he sighs, faux forlorn. "I was only wondering… I mean. This might be a bad time to ask, but I wanted to ask you out on a date."
"A date?" you repeat, looking for a response and coming up empty.
"Right, like. Dinner? Enzo's." Your eyes blow wide and he scrambles, "Or not! We can go anywhere. Fucking McDonald's, if you wanted."
"Robin said you liked me," you say, breathless.
"Yeah, well she's a snake," he says snarkily.
"You like me?" you ask. Maybe it's not tasteful to beg for a confession, but you need to know.
"I did just ask you on a date."
You sit back and Steve gets up from his slouching.
"You're, like, the coolest person I've ever met. You're adorable, and you have a killer taste in music."
You've forgotten how to speak. Steve takes this the wrong way, brown hair falling into his eyes, the light from the TV painting his skin a pale green, then blown white like a photograph with the exposure too high.
"I get it, if you don't want to. I work at Family Video, I flunked school. I couldn't get into community college, so I-" he presses his lips together, his tone light, "I'm a total loser," he says, "oh my god. And I'm still talking."
"Steve," you say, pressing your palm into his thigh to gather his attention. "You're not a loser."
"I'm not the supernatural," he says.
"I don't know. You could be a vampire," you tease. "And anyways, this mould you've built for Hawkins is insane. Loser, supernatural. Which one would I be?" you ask curiously, fingers flexing over his thigh.
He covers your hand with his. You both look down to watch as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles, then wraps his fingers around yours.
"Supernatural," he says, too smug, you know he's about to say something corny. "There's something supernatural about those eyes, baby."
You laugh so hard it catches you off guard, choking on them. "What! Steve, how long have you been holding onto that one?"
"I just thought of it," he says.
"I can tell! That was awful, you really-"
"Can I kiss you?"
Your giggles fade. Your heart rockets in your chest. Steve's free hand finds your arm, teasing the hem of your sleeve, his eyes watching you carefully. They're so brown his pupils melt into the irises.
"Please?" he asks.
You nod without saying anything.
His long fingers push under your sleeve, spread out across your skin. He warms where he touches, squeezing the dough of your arm gently as he pulls you closer. His now familiar cologne hits you all at once and you're filled with a want to be closer, ducking in as he closes the gap between you and kisses you sweetly.
You steal your hand from under his to reach for him, hands smoothing over the hill and curve of his shoulders to meet behind his neck, brushing through his downy soft hair.
Steve covets your face, lips lifting away to realign and reignite a wave of firecrackers under your skin, firm as his lips part ever so slightly. He tastes like soda. It makes you giggle, a huff against his smiling lips.
He pulls away, the bottom of his palm touching your jaw but his fingers hovering over your skin, stroking the skin under your eye with the tip of his index finger so lightly it tickles.
Your eyes drift closed as he brushes against your eyelashes.
"You're really pretty," he murmurs.
He takes your face in both hands and kisses the well under your eye. You hold your breath, tummy churning with butterflies at the feeling of his warm lips on your delicate skin.
When he pulls away you're quick to take back your hands. He's less so, one big palm cupping your neck and the other rubbing a line down your arm until he finds your fingers, twining them together with his as he gives you what must be a cheek-aching smile.
"I think I'd like to go to Enzo's," you say shyly.
"Yeah?" he asks, leaning back in.
"Yeah," you say, your response quickly smothered by his lips.
You can feel his smile.
You were right about Steve being a vampire – you find out soon enough that he likes to bite. Your lips, gently, and your neck, less so.
<3
thanks for reading! | my masterlist | my requests are open
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things x reader#steve harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x reader fanfic#steve and robin best duo
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♡ thinkin about how soft a creampie would be with steve ♡
maybe it’s late or maybe it’s early, but the sun is glowing orange where it sits low in the sky. the room is quiet, nothing but the soft sound of your shared breaths of exertion, euphoric sighs of pleasure falling past your lips, the quiet crinkle of bedsheets and the creak of the bed frame, the slick squelch of him fucking into you.
he’s propped up on his elbows, his chest and tummy pressing down against you, pinning you against the mattress with his weight. his hips rut into you with no real urgency, both of you are just enjoying the slow grind of his cock, the way the drag of it against the tightness of your walls sets off sparks of pleasure so intense your eyes roll back. it’s intoxicating. the smell of his cologne and your combined sweat. the slippery glide of his hairy thighs against the insides of your own, sweat and juices from your arousal mixing together and smearing between you with each slow roll of steve’s hips, wetness in the coarse hairs at the base of his cock and the crease of your ass where his heavy balls press in with each deep thrust. you’ve come twice already, and now you’re simply basking in the heady fog of constant pleasure as steve works his way toward his own end.
and when steve comes, it’s with a soft cry, a guttural sounding thing that has you bearing down on him further as his cock twitches and fills you with his release. through his high, you kiss him slow and messy, all tongue and breathy whimpers that you swallow down gratefully. the warmth of his come as it paints your walls has your brain going a little fuzzy.
as you both come back down to earth, you toy with the soft ends of his hair. your eyes drag slow over every pore and freckle on his cheeks, noting each one, memorizing how pretty the scattered beauty marks on his face look in the warm glow between day and night.
and when steve kisses down the side of your jaw and neck, finally letting his cock slip free, when he lets his body fall heavily to the mattress beside you with an exaggerated groan, you let out your own breathy little squeal of surprise. the springs beneath the bed make you both bounce a bit with the movement, and he huffs a soft chuckle against the curve of your shoulder. the combination of the warmth of his come dripping from your hole and his arms curled tight around you and his lips on your throat — it all ignites a sense of contented comfort inside of your exhausted brain that has your eyes beginning to flutter shut, slow and sleepy.
and when you fall asleep, you do so feeling warm and happy and loved.
#i’m sooooo fine rn why do you ask#steve harrington#txt#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington x gender neutral reader#*
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i love how it’s canon steve holds hands while fucking. there’s something so intimate and hot about holding hands while having sex. it doesn’t matter what position you’re in, he will grab ahold of your hand in some way.
#munsonify#steve harrington#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x y/n smut#steve harrington x reader smut
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hi rubes!!! i was curious on ur thoughts on what a lazy sunday with steve would look like? esp if its one that like both ur day off and its smth that hasnt happened in a long time
hi angel!! sorry i sat on this one for awhile, i hope i made up for it by making it sooooo lovey dovey <3 0.8k, gn!reader
By some miracle, you're the first awake.
Steve is like a kind of sheep dog— he requires frequent exercise and so, he usually slips a run in the morning before you're even close to awake.
And also because of the shaggy hair and the way he seems to wag an invisible tail when all his favourite people are gathered in the same room, even going around and rounding them up, checking on everyone— Okay, you get the point, analogy over.
Actually, point is, you getting up before Steve like never happens.
Scratch that, you and Steve getting a day off to sleep in on the same day never happens. And even more, Steve very rarely skips his morning run because, y'know, sheep dog and all.
Basically, you figure this whole morning is a wondrous crafted little miracle. You have no plans to waste it.
Peering across your pillow, you watch the rise and fall of Steve's chest as he sleeps, your softened gaze roaming over his face gently. He looks younger in his sleep, pillowy lips parted lightly. His moles beg to be kissed. His hair is a mess. It's lost all its volume, lying flat against the pillow and urging you to run your fingers through it.
You ignore the urge in favor of slipping out from under the comforter. quiet as you can.
Steve's annoyingly good at spoiling you and is less than receptive to letting you return the sentiment. With one last glance back at bed, you let out a soft sigh, a honeyed noise, and head to the kitchen.
Steve's favourite mug is this wonky one that Dustin made once upon a time, some pottery class at one of his camps. You stare at it, glazed eyes taking in an alarmingly amount of detail on the cup, as the coffee brews behind you. Its scent wafts through the room. You've woken a dozen times to it, when it's Steve up and about, fixing a beverage for you.
It's cute, you think, that he still uses Dustin's mug for his coffee. By cute you mean, you can't think about it for too long or you'll stamp back down to the bedroom and kiss your boyfriend til your lips are blue and—
"Ooh, coffee?" Steve announces his presence with his words, partially garbled by his loud yawn. He halfheartedly covers his mouth, the hoodie he's haphazardly chucked on misaligned enough that it hangs over his hand adorably. He shuffles into the kitchen tiredly and despite his introduction, he heads right to you.
You can't resist a pout. Steve takes a moment to notice it, too happily distracted sidling up and worming his arms around your middle.
When he does, he tilts his head to the side. "What?"
"You couldn't let me bring it to you in bed?"
He grins. "I'm sorry. Was that the plan?"
"You know it was." You mumble grouchily, not upset at all. You push a hand into his chest, giving him a little shove. "You're always doin' this stuff for me but you don't ever let me do it for you."
Steve softens unbearably, his grin getting all gooey at the sides. He looks a little lovestruck, messy hair and all. It takes immense will to continue your upset facade. You nudge his chest again, your head inclining towards the bedroom.
"What?" His eyebrows jump, expression a mixture of incredulity and affectionate. "Y'want me to get back in bed? So you can come bring it to me?"
You smile, nudging his chest again and grinning when he starts to take a couple steps back, heading towards the bedroom. "Yes. Exactly that."
"You're absurd."
You poke your tongue out him. "You love it."
Steve moves forward abruptly, his hands cradling your face gently as he leans and steals a kiss from you. He retracts just as fast, looking far too pleased with himself.
"Yes, I do," He agrees, still wandering backwards. He disappears into your bedroom and you're left standing there with your own lovesick grin. God, you love him. Your heart feels like spun sugar in your chest, airy and sweet beyond relief.
To which Steve is no help at all when you walk into the bedroom, carefully holding the mug so it doesn’t spill. He's tucked back in bed, pretending to be asleep, only to wake with the grace of a Disney princess at your footsteps.
He faux yawns and pretends to jump at your presence, scampering to sit up in bed so he can accept the coffee from you. "Oh wow, what a surprise this is!"
"Shut up. You think you're soo funny, huh?" you mumble, handing the coffee over. Your aching smile gives away just how funny you think he is.
"Mmhm," Steve hums as he takes a sip. You've made it just the way he likes it. He parrots your earlier words. "You love it."
You lean in, mindful of the mug, and kiss him sweetly. He tastes of coffee and cream and he chases your lips for a second kiss when you pull back. You aim for tiredly amused but the words come out devastatingly sincere anyway. "Yeah, I do."
#ruby writes steve#steve harrington#steve x reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x you#steve x you#i've recently learned that only the first 20 tags apply to the tags so im doing all my rambling at the end LMAO#im honestly treating these as writing exercises <3#where i just sit down and do them all in one go#perfect timing for the oscars party photo of jk to come out#Thats my vision of bf steve <3#enjoy!!!
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