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summary: Steve wants to prove he's manly enough for you to like him. But you like him sweet and gentle as he is.
words: 1.5k || masterlist
"So how are you adjusting to a new town? You got bored of it yet?" Robin asks you. You were in fact new in Hawkins. You moved here just two months ago, and luckily, quickly made friends with Nancy from work and she was kind enough to introduce you to her friend group since you were in need of new local friends.
"No, not at all." you laugh. "It's nice here, people are really friendly."
"That’s because you don't know them yet." Robin comments.
"Don't be so pessimistic." Nancy tells Robin. "And have you met anyone interesting yet? We can warn you about what they're known for here."
"Like romantically. No, gosh, no." you frown.
"Oh come on! What do you think of our boys?" she insists.
"Oh, well, they're all very nice, very friendly." you simply say, but notice in their faces that they want to know more. "Well, Eddie's very cool. Like he plays guitar and is in a band, and he totally owns who he is. Then, Jonathan is pretty artsy, he's interesting. And then Steve is... really really sweet."
That’s all you said. Harmless, right? Well, no.
There was a little mouse hearing what you had to say behind the door of the kitchen. This mouse is known for his amazing set of hair.
Steve was listening behind the door because since you joined their group he's been developing a crush on you. But he sent the girls first to ask what you thought of him. And he is not happy with what you said.
Sweet? He's sweet? Dogs are sweet! Babies are sweet! He's a grown man!
It's safe to say his ego is a bit bruised right now. Which wouldn't be so bad if he weren’t so dramatic. The last thing he could take right now is for you to start dating the weirdo that is Munson, or the awkward guy that is Byers (he loves them though, they're his friends).
And Steve had an odd thought process here, definitely not something a guy his age should be doing since it's more of a teen drama cliché. But he wants to prove how manly he can be.
So the next time you see him, his usual perfect floppy hair is no longer shiny and smooth. Instead, this time looks more low-maintenance, messy, like he just rolled out of bed and came here (he actually spent 35 minutes in front of the mirror for it to look like this). He changes his pastel polo shirts to a simple dark flannel.
Some of the guys came to your apartment to help you with some new furniture. You just got a new couch and some frames to hang on the wall.
Nancy was helping you choose pictures and deciding where each should go for them to look good. Robin was helping Eddie to move the table and the TV because she claims she's actually stronger than him.
That’s until Steve arrives, pushing them aside.
"Let me handle the heavy stuff." he says.
"Oh, thank god superman's here." Robin mocks him and he looks at her badly.
He starts moving the couch which wasn’t exactly heavy, letting out exaggerated grunts to help his image.
"You need help? You look like you're gonna get a hernia." Eddie jokes which earns him another bad look from Steve.
"Is that good?" he asks you.
"Yeah, I think it looks good there, right?" you ask Nancy and she nods.
"Great. You need help hanging those frames? I brought a hammer and nails just in case." he offers. "Actually, I always carry them in my car, you never know when you’re gonna need them" he lies, Robin actually cringes at that line.
"Uh... yeah, sure. We can hang them if you want." you agree.
"While I'm at it, you want me to take a look at that leaky faucet you've got?" he insists.
"Oh no, that's fine, I already called a guy to come check it out tomorrow."
"You sure? You don't need to pay some random guy. I know how to work those things." he claims.
"That is exactly what a man would say." Robin murmurs to Nance.
"No, please. Don't even worry about it." you quickly dismiss him.
The "manly" act keeps going for the second consecutive week now. His idea to shed his sweet image to prove he's rugged continues in a painfully obvious way. If only he noticed that instead of you being swooned it's actually weirding you out.
Like one afternoon you were hanging out at The Wheeler's household, everyone chatting like usual. But he was not chiming in with his normal personality. He was leaning against a wall, looking around like he was deep in thought, trying to look mysterious and troubled.
"What the fuck is he doing?" Dustin asks Robin.
"I don't even know anymore." she shrugs, rolling her eyes.
Later that same evening, Steve offers to drop you home when he's leaving.
In his car, the radio starts playing with the last cassette he left in once he starts the vehicle. A loud guitar riff scared you through the speakers. Since when does Steve listen to Metallica?
You remember one night talking to him about how you both liked Michael Jackson and The Police and he admitted he even sings along when Madonna plays on the radio. He even started bickering with Eddie once he started making fun of him for listening to pop music.
"Oh, sorry. I forgot that was playing." he acts.
"Steve, seriously, what's going on?" you frown.
"What do you mean, doll?" oh yeah, he calls you 'doll' now too.
"What are you doing? Why are you acting like this lately? Like a character from a bad western movie." you finally question him.
"I'm not acting like anything. I just like some metal music sometimes." he lies.
"Then why did you tell Eddie it sounds like a bunch of noise all put together?"
"Fine, I'm just... being a man, okay? I'm not some cute little puppy dog!"
"A puppy dog? What?" you frown, he's making no sense at all.
"I heard you saying Eddie was cool and metal, and that Jonathan was 'artsy' and that I'm just sweet!" he explains. "I'm not just a golden retriever, I can be a man!"
You stay staring at him surprised for a few more seconds, then you laugh softly.
"You started acting weirdly because of that?" you keep laughing. "Why did you think it was a bad thing? I meant it in a nice way."
"How can that be nice?" he complains.
“I meant that you really take care of people! You're attentive, you're brave, and you're sweet! That’s not a bad thing, it's like my favorite thing about you." you clarify.
"Really?" he looks caught off guard.
"Yes, really! Why would you think I want a crazy macho man?" you frown.
"I don't know... I guess I took it the wrong way." he's still surprised.
"Why did you care so much about how I saw you anyway?" you notice how he started changing everything because of that comment.
"Well... I thought you liked the other guys more than me." he starts. "I just... I think you're very pretty, and funny, and just pretty amazing. Ever since I saw you, but I wanted to know what you thought of me before I asked you out. And I thought you meant I was like... safe, or boring." he finally admits.
"I didn't think that at all. I thought you were also pretty funny and handsome before this whole act." you smile.
"Fuck... okay." he regrets everything now. "Could I still take you out? Next week maybe? I'll fix my hair like I always do and wear my normal clothes. I'll go back to being sweet and funny, I promise." he smiles too.
"Well, I'm actually not doing anything right now." you shrug with a smile. "We can go fix your hair and maybe I could style it in some fun ways..."
You're already picturing yourself braiding his hair, or trying some funny hairstyles just to mess with him.
"I don't just let anyone touch my hair." he warns you with a smirk.
"And what about me? Am I just anyone?" you play along.
"No, I guess you're not." he smiles. "And I guess it would be nice to have a pretty girl play with my hair."
"You're gonna be my barbie doll." you mock him.
"Hey! No."
"I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" you lie... he will be. You're already thinking of getting face masks as well.
You lean into him with a smirk. "So, can I? Please?"
"Yeah, you can." he smiles too, then leans in a little bit more and kisses you softly.
You smile into the kiss and bring him closer, his hands grab your waist, caressing your back over your top. He even moves your hair out your face, placing a strand behind your ear.
Yeah, he is sweet. He's the sweetest. And that might just be your favorite thing about him.
summary: Steve wants to prove he's manly enough for you to like him. But you like him sweet and gentle as he is.
words: 1.5k || masterlist
"So how are you adjusting to a new town? You got bored of it yet?" Robin asks you. You were in fact new in Hawkins. You moved here just two months ago, and luckily, quickly made friends with Nancy from work and she was kind enough to introduce you to her friend group since you were in need of new local friends.
"No, not at all." you laugh. "It's nice here, people are really friendly."
"That’s because you don't know them yet." Robin comments.
"Don't be so pessimistic." Nancy tells Robin. "And have you met anyone interesting yet? We can warn you about what they're known for here."
"Like romantically. No, gosh, no." you frown.
"Oh come on! What do you think of our boys?" she insists.
"Oh, well, they're all very nice, very friendly." you simply say, but notice in their faces that they want to know more. "Well, Eddie's very cool. Like he plays guitar and is in a band, and he totally owns who he is. Then, Jonathan is pretty artsy, he's interesting. And then Steve is... really really sweet."
That’s all you said. Harmless, right? Well, no.
There was a little mouse hearing what you had to say behind the door of the kitchen. This mouse is known for his amazing set of hair.
Steve was listening behind the door because since you joined their group he's been developing a crush on you. But he sent the girls first to ask what you thought of him. And he is not happy with what you said.
Sweet? He's sweet? Dogs are sweet! Babies are sweet! He's a grown man!
It's safe to say his ego is a bit bruised right now. Which wouldn't be so bad if he weren’t so dramatic. The last thing he could take right now is for you to start dating the weirdo that is Munson, or the awkward guy that is Byers (he loves them though, they're his friends).
And Steve had an odd thought process here, definitely not something a guy his age should be doing since it's more of a teen drama cliché. But he wants to prove how manly he can be.
So the next time you see him, his usual perfect floppy hair is no longer shiny and smooth. Instead, this time looks more low-maintenance, messy, like he just rolled out of bed and came here (he actually spent 35 minutes in front of the mirror for it to look like this). He changes his pastel polo shirts to a simple dark flannel.
Some of the guys came to your apartment to help you with some new furniture. You just got a new couch and some frames to hang on the wall.
Nancy was helping you choose pictures and deciding where each should go for them to look good. Robin was helping Eddie to move the table and the TV because she claims she's actually stronger than him.
That’s until Steve arrives, pushing them aside.
"Let me handle the heavy stuff." he says.
"Oh, thank god superman's here." Robin mocks him and he looks at her badly.
He starts moving the couch which wasn’t exactly heavy, letting out exaggerated grunts to help his image.
"You need help? You look like you're gonna get a hernia." Eddie jokes which earns him another bad look from Steve.
"Is that good?" he asks you.
"Yeah, I think it looks good there, right?" you ask Nancy and she nods.
"Great. You need help hanging those frames? I brought a hammer and nails just in case." he offers. "Actually, I always carry them in my car, you never know when you’re gonna need them" he lies, Robin actually cringes at that line.
"Uh... yeah, sure. We can hang them if you want." you agree.
"While I'm at it, you want me to take a look at that leaky faucet you've got?" he insists.
"Oh no, that's fine, I already called a guy to come check it out tomorrow."
"You sure? You don't need to pay some random guy. I know how to work those things." he claims.
"That is exactly what a man would say." Robin murmurs to Nance.
"No, please. Don't even worry about it." you quickly dismiss him.
The "manly" act keeps going for the second consecutive week now. His idea to shed his sweet image to prove he's rugged continues in a painfully obvious way. If only he noticed that instead of you being swooned it's actually weirding you out.
Like one afternoon you were hanging out at The Wheeler's household, everyone chatting like usual. But he was not chiming in with his normal personality. He was leaning against a wall, looking around like he was deep in thought, trying to look mysterious and troubled.
"What the fuck is he doing?" Dustin asks Robin.
"I don't even know anymore." she shrugs, rolling her eyes.
Later that same evening, Steve offers to drop you home when he's leaving.
In his car, the radio starts playing with the last cassette he left in once he starts the vehicle. A loud guitar riff scared you through the speakers. Since when does Steve listen to Metallica?
You remember one night talking to him about how you both liked Michael Jackson and The Police and he admitted he even sings along when Madonna plays on the radio. He even started bickering with Eddie once he started making fun of him for listening to pop music.
"Oh, sorry. I forgot that was playing." he acts.
"Steve, seriously, what's going on?" you frown.
"What do you mean, doll?" oh yeah, he calls you 'doll' now too.
"What are you doing? Why are you acting like this lately? Like a character from a bad western movie." you finally question him.
"I'm not acting like anything. I just like some metal music sometimes." he lies.
"Then why did you tell Eddie it sounds like a bunch of noise all put together?"
"Fine, I'm just... being a man, okay? I'm not some cute little puppy dog!"
"A puppy dog? What?" you frown, he's making no sense at all.
"I heard you saying Eddie was cool and metal, and that Jonathan was 'artsy' and that I'm just sweet!" he explains. "I'm not just a golden retriever, I can be a man!"
You stay staring at him surprised for a few more seconds, then you laugh softly.
"You started acting weirdly because of that?" you keep laughing. "Why did you think it was a bad thing? I meant it in a nice way."
"How can that be nice?" he complains.
“I meant that you really take care of people! You're attentive, you're brave, and you're sweet! That’s not a bad thing, it's like my favorite thing about you." you clarify.
"Really?" he looks caught off guard.
"Yes, really! Why would you think I want a crazy macho man?" you frown.
"I don't know... I guess I took it the wrong way." he's still surprised.
"Why did you care so much about how I saw you anyway?" you notice how he started changing everything because of that comment.
"Well... I thought you liked the other guys more than me." he starts. "I just... I think you're very pretty, and funny, and just pretty amazing. Ever since I saw you, but I wanted to know what you thought of me before I asked you out. And I thought you meant I was like... safe, or boring." he finally admits.
"I didn't think that at all. I thought you were also pretty funny and handsome before this whole act." you smile.
"Fuck... okay." he regrets everything now. "Could I still take you out? Next week maybe? I'll fix my hair like I always do and wear my normal clothes. I'll go back to being sweet and funny, I promise." he smiles too.
"Well, I'm actually not doing anything right now." you shrug with a smile. "We can go fix your hair and maybe I could style it in some fun ways..."
You're already picturing yourself braiding his hair, or trying some funny hairstyles just to mess with him.
"I don't just let anyone touch my hair." he warns you with a smirk.
"And what about me? Am I just anyone?" you play along.
"No, I guess you're not." he smiles. "And I guess it would be nice to have a pretty girl play with my hair."
"You're gonna be my barbie doll." you mock him.
"Hey! No."
"I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" you lie... he will be. You're already thinking of getting face masks as well.
You lean into him with a smirk. "So, can I? Please?"
"Yeah, you can." he smiles too, then leans in a little bit more and kisses you softly.
You smile into the kiss and bring him closer, his hands grab your waist, caressing your back over your top. He even moves your hair out your face, placing a strand behind your ear.
Yeah, he is sweet. He's the sweetest. And that might just be your favorite thing about him.
could i request a fluffy steve x gf! reader fic where the reader and steve accidentally eat edibles are they’re extremely high
(or sex chocolates by accident and it’s smutty)
⋆˙⟡ tastes like candy
ᯓ★ boyfriend!steve harrington x f!reader
⋆.𐙚 ̊ cw — mdni, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex, oral (m and f receiving), cum eating, masturbation (m and f), very heavy breeding kink, lactation kink..?, sex chocolates, pet names, praise kink, steve talks you through it, big dick steve obviously
⋆.𐙚 ̊ summary — after eddie convinces steve to buy these chocolates from his dealer, he thinks nothing of it. he even convinces you to try them because they’re really good. not even an hour later, the effects are kicking in.
⋆.𐙚 ̊ authors note — hi guys! i literally have nothing appropriate to say about this so… also please excuse the beginning, i lowk suck at writing build up so lets just look past that. please send in any smutty or fluffy requests you have :p
⋆.𐙚 ̊ wc — 3.31k
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ please do not copy, rewrite, or repost my works on any other platforms or pages.
you were sitting lazily on the couch in your bikini, watching some random movie you’d found lying around while you waited for your boyfriend to return when you heard the front door to your shared home open.
“babe!” steve called out, stepping inside and kicking the heavy wooden door shut behind him. “c’mere. i want you to try something.”
your brows furrowed in confusion as you got up, your socked feet padding along the wooden floor over to him. “hi, baby,” you smiled sweetly, pecking his lips and taking a seat at the high chair beside the marbled island. “what is it?”
he slid over a bag of colorful squares. “you look pretty,” he grinned, his hand lingering around your waist. “so i went with eddie this morning to run some errands and we stopped by that smoke shop he’s always talking about. he convinced me to get these little chocolates and they’re really good. you’ve gotta try ‘em,” he explained excitedly, taking one out and biting into it. he almost moaned at the taste. “so good. i thought it was kinda expensive for this little bag of candy though.”
you hummed as you picked one from the plastic, examining it with uncertainty etched in your features. hesitantly, you bit off one of the corners. it was delicious. “wow. oh my god. yeah, these are really good.”
steve nodded along with a proud grin. “told you,” he bragged, his fingers lightly digging into the bare skin of your waist while his free hand grabbed another piece. “you should come check it out with us next time. they had some other pretty cool flavors.”
you plucked another piece from the plastic and unwrapped it, popping it into your mouth. “mhm. i’d love to,” you said with a warm smile before gently poking at his side. “now hurry up and go change before the sun goes away and the water gets cold.”
he cupped the side of your head to bring it closer to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. “yes ma’am,” he quipped, grabbing a piece of chocolate for the road before jogging up the stairs to get changed into his swim trunks.
it had only taken an hour for the effects to start kicking in with him.
you’d been playing around, splashing in the water with him to cool off from the beaming sun, when something in his eyes shifted. the pretty brown was almost completely overshadowed by the black of his pupils.
steve was crossing the pool in a few, long strides. his hands were already sliding around your waist in the water, his chest pressing into your back as the pool lights rippled beneath the surface. you felt his breath hot against your neck before his mouth followed, open and wet, dragging slow kisses along your shoulder.
“stevie,” you giggled, twisting a little in his arms. “what are you doing?”
he didn’t answer right away. his lips kept moving, sucking lightly at your skin, teeth grazing just enough to make you shiver but not enough to leave a real mark. “just wanna hold you,” he mumbled against your collarbone, voice already rough. his fingers tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against him.
that’s when you felt it—thick, heavy, and unmistakably hard pressing against your ass through his trunks. your breath caught in your throat. steve let out a shaky exhale and curled tighter around you, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.
“mmph. fuck… i need to be inside you, honey,” he whispered, almost pleading. “please. right now. i can’t—fuck, i’m so hard it hurts.”
he was fully rolling his hips into you now, seeking any sort of temporary relief. you had to bite down on your bottom lip to suppress the whimper crawling up your throat. “stevie, baby,” you breathed, feeling a similar heat start to burn deep in your stomach. “what if someone sees?”
“fences,” was all he could whimper out as his hands kneaded at the soft skin of your bare waist. the bikini you were wearing wasn’t helping his little predicament either. you just looked so fucking sexy like this. “please. just need to feel you.”
before you could answer, his hand was already tugging at his waistband. he shoved his trunks down just enough to free his cock, the length of it springing free in the water. one quick motion and he hooked his fingers into your bikini bottoms, yanking them to the side. the head of his cock nudged against your entrance, hot and insistent.
steve pushed in with one desperate thrust. a loud, broken moan tore out of him the second he sank deep inside of you, his whole body shuddering behind you. “oh my god—fuck, you’re so warm. so fucking tight.” his arms locked around your middle, holding you still while he buried himself to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix.
a choked gasp left your lips at the sudden intrusion, your thighs squeezing together and your hand reaching back to claw at steve’s thigh. you were entirely too full. “mph! baby— holy shit! fuck!”
he didn’t wait. his hips started rocking immediately, short, needy thrusts that made the water softly splash around you. one hand slid up to cup your breast through your top, squeezing, thumb rubbing over your peaked nipple. the other stayed low, gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks as he fucked into you with frantic, hungry strokes.
“need you so bad, honey,” he panted against your ear, voice cracking with desire. “hmph! can’t stop. feels too good. you feel so fucking good around me.” his mouth found your neck again, sucking and biting between every thrust, completely lost in the sudden, overwhelming need to be buried inside you.
the chocolates have him wrecked—his cock buried deep inside your pussy, hips snapping forward in quick, desperate thrusts that send you jolting forward slightly each time. he’s moaning loud and completely carefree, whimpering your name like he’s losing his mind, every punch against your cervix harder than the last.
“fuck, baby— your pussy’s so fucking addictive,” he groans against your neck, voice trembling. “can’t stop— this pussy’s too good, shit, i need it, need you.” his hands are everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up to squeeze your tits, fingers digging into your ass as he pulls you down onto his cock over and over. “please—just fuckin’ take it, take all of me. just let me fuck this pretty pussy.”
he doesn’t wait for a response, not that you can really speak right now anyway. steve spins you around, lifts you easily, and carries you to the pool steps. he sits down on the lower step so the water laps at his waist, then pulls you onto his lap, settling your legs on either side of his thighs. his cock slides back inside your dripping cunt in one smooth thrust and he starts fucking up into you hard, hips driving upward while he drags you down to meet every stroke.
“oh!— yes! yes, yes, yes,” you cried out brokenly, clawing at his shoulders in a weak attempt to ground yourself. “feels so good, stevie. so— so big!”
his mouth finds yours in a sloppy, messy kiss—tongues sliding, spit mixing, both of you panting into each other. steve’s eyes are glassy, drunk on the feeling of your cunt squeezing him. “so fucking sexy,” he mumbles against your lips between thrusts. “can’t get enough of this pretty pussy. so warm and wet f’me. need to keep fucking you like this.”
every upward snap of his hips punches a moan out of both of you, his grip on your waist bruising as he uses your body to chase the overwhelming pleasure the chocolates have forced on him.
one of his hands slides down your body, fingers finding your clit under the water, rubbing tight circles as he keeps thrusting up into you on the pool steps.
“please, baby— cum for me, squeeze my fucking cock, i need it so bad,” he begs, voice hoarse and desperate, hips snapping faster. the pressure builds fast and you bite down hard on his shoulder when you finally cum, a muffled cry vibrating against his skin while your pussy clamps down around him.
he groans loud, holding you through it, but the need doesn’t fade. “there you go, baby. fuck— just fucking sucking me back in, huh?”
you’re practically limp in his arms now, choking out small gasps and whimpers each time he hit that gummy spot inside of you. you’ve completely lost the ability to speak as he fucks up into you forcefully.
“shit— holy shit, honey. i’m coming! fuck, i’m coming!” he pressed his hips up into you as tight as he could as his mouth came down on yours, hot and desperate, licking at your tongue and sucking on it hungrily.
soft whimpers spilled from deep in his throat, thick ropes of hot cum filling up your spent hole. you couldn’t help but moan into the wet cavern of his mouth when you felt just how much of the milky liquid was being pumped into you, absolutely filling you to the brim and beginning to leak out around him.
you pulled away for air, eyes blown wide and dazed as you looked at steve. he had the same look on his face with a lopsided grin to accompany it.
your skin began to felt too tight, your pulse pounding between your legs, and every brush of steve’s hand made you ache worse. you glanced at him again—his swim trunks still half down, his cock half-hard again already— and the words slipped out before you could stop them.
“stevie… shower with me?” you asked, voice small and shy even though your thighs were slick from the mess you two had created together.
he pressed a sweet kiss to your palm and tucked himself back into his swim trunks, nodding and taking deep breaths to get his composure back. “yeah. yeah, i’ll be up in a minute.”
you climbed off of him and slowly stepped out of the water on shaky legs, draping a towel around yourself. it was no match against the droplets of water running down your legs onto the polished floors. the second the cold air hit your sun-kissed skin, the desire sparked in the pit of your stomach again. only this time, it was so much worse.
it only took a few minutes for steve to join you in the bathroom. the second the door behind shut him and he stepped into the shower behind you, you turned to face him, pushing your dripping hair back away from your face and dropping to your knees. “woah, baby? what are you—“ his cock bobbed heavily in front of your face, already hardening fast. you wrapped your lips around the head and sucked him in deep, moaning at the taste of him mixed with pool water.
steve groaned loudly, one hand flying to the back of your head. “oh, fuck—baby, that’s it,” he gasped, hips twitching forward. you took him deeper, bobbing your head while your free hand slid between your own legs. two fingers pushed straight into your pussy, fucking yourself in time with the way you sucked him. he cried out when his gaze followed your hand down your body, watching the way it disappeared between your legs. “sucking my fat cock turns you on, honey? fuck! hmph! y’look so fucking pretty on your knees f’me.” wet, obscene sounds filled the shower as you fingered yourself harder, clit throbbing against your palm.
he was fully hard now, thick, warm, and heavy on your tongue. you slowly pulled off with a wet pop, spit connecting your lips to his cock, then stood and turned around. palms flat against the shower wall, you pushed your ass back. “need you so bad, stevie. please.”
he didn’t hesitate. he yanked your hips closer to his, lined up, and pushed into you in one devastating slow thrust.
“oh! yes, please! right there,” you cried out, forehead pressing to the tile as he started pounding. his hips snapped forward again and again, drilling deep, the wet slap of skin echoing off the walls. water streamed over both of you while he fucked you hard, one hand gripping your hip, the other reaching around to rub your clit in fast circles.
“god, you’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, voice completely wrecked. “pretty pussy’s taking me so deep— fuck, i can’t stop.” every thrust punched the air out of your lungs. he leaned over your back, biting at your shoulder, pounding into you with frantic, desperate strokes that made your legs shake. you kept fingering yourself even as he fucked you, two fingers buried inside alongside his cock, stretching you wider while he drilled harder and harder.
it was all too much. the stretch, the fullness, all of it. your hand moved instead to brace yourself against the wall. you clenched around him and his pace falters, his thrusts turning slower, deeper, each one dragging through your soaked pussy like he’s savoring every inch. water streams down his back while he presses his forehead to your shoulder, panting hard. “fuck… mhm, baby, i’m gonna cum again,” he mumbles against your wet skin, voice shaky and wrecked. his hips roll forward in a lazy grind, cock pulsing inside you as he fights to hold back. “feels too good—can’t stop, don’t wanna stop.”
he whimpers when you clench around him again, the sound raw and needy. “keep fucking yourself on your fingers, pretty girl,” he begs, one hand sliding down to guide your own fingers back to your puffy clit and pussy. “please, just like that— oh, wanna watch you stretch yourself while i’m inside you.”
you obey, sliding two fingers in alongside his cock once more, pumping them in time with his slow, deliberate thrusts. the stretch is filty and obscene, your walls straining around both him and your fingers, the burn sharp and perfect. steve groans loud, punching deeper on the next thrust, the head of his cock nudging right against your cervix. it still hurts—too much, too thick, too deep—but the ache only makes you hungrier. you can’t stop grinding back, chasing that painful fullness even as your body trembles from the intensity.
his thick, toned arms wrap tight around your waist, holding you flush against him like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “gonna fill you up so good, baby,” he whimpers, hips stuttering as he fights the edge. every slow thrust pushes his cock impossibly deeper, the stretch making your eyes roll back. you keep working your fingers in rhythm with him, the wet sounds of your pussy echoing off the tile.
his breathing turns ragged, his grip bruising. “can’t hold it—fuck, baby, need you to cum for me,” he mumbles desperately. the moment your orgasm hits, your whole body shakes, pussy fluttering and clamping hard around his cock and your fingers. steve cries out, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside you, hot pulses flooding deep while he holds you tight through every tremor.
the shower doesn’t last long against the burning desire within each of you. he’s quickly turning the stream off and guiding you onto the bed with shaky hands, still dripping, his eyes glassy with need. he drops between your spread thighs without a word, pressing his mouth straight to your cum-slick pussy. the first taste rips a broken moan from his throat—loud, desperate, almost pained. he licks at you broad and hungry, tongue pushing inside to scoop out the thick mess he left there earlier, groaning into your folds like he can’t get enough.
“o—oh! stevie, so good,” you babbled mindlessly, your hands making a home in his damp hair. “mmph! feels so fucking good, baby.”
his lips seal around your clit, sucking hard while two fingers slide back into your soaked heat, pumping slow and deep. every slurp is wet and filthy, his tongue lapping at your entrance, circling, then thrusting back in to chase more of his own cum. he strokes himself with his free hand, fist tight around his cock, hips jerking into his own grip as he makes out with your pussy like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.
“fuck, baby—your pussy tastes so fucking good with my cum inside her, could stay right here for hours,” he whines against your skin, voice muffled and broken. his tongue drags through your folds again, collecting every drop before pushing it back inside you with his fingers. he moans louder, the sound vibrating through your core, his nose bumping your clit while he sucks and licks like he’s starving.
you’re already shaking when he finally pulls back, chin shiny with your slick, breathing hard. steve crawls up over you, his cock heavy and leaking as he drags the head through your messy slit. the tip catches at your entrance every few passes, slipping in just enough to stretch you before he pulls back again. your eyes blur with hot tears, overwhelmed by how desperately turned on you feel, how your body clenches and weeps for more even though you can’t explain why.
“please,” you whisper, voice cracking.
steve’s forehead presses to yours, his breath shaky. “i know, baby. i got you.”
he finally pushes in, slow and thick, sinking all the way until his hips meet yours. the stretch punches a sob from your chest. he hooks your knees over his arms, folding you into a deep mating press, and starts rocking into you with long, deliberate thrusts. each one drags his thick cock almost all the way out before sinking back in, grinding deep against your cervix.
“holy shit. gonna get you pregnant,” he mumbles against your mouth, voice low and shaky. “wanna watch your belly grow with my kid. see these pretty tits get all big and full.” his hips roll slower, deeper, every thrust pushing his cum even deeper inside of you. “fuck—imagine how swollen you’ll look. how fucking tight this little pussy will get around me.”
you’re fully crying now, overwhelmed and so fucking full, tears slipping down your temples while he fucks you slow and steady. steve kisses them away, still whispering filthy promises between moans. “gonna fill you up every night until it takes, honey. keep you just like this forever—stuffed and leaking and mine.”
his pace stays deep and unhurried, the wet sound of his cock moving through the mess between your legs filling the room. every time he bottoms out you whimper, the pressure perfect and too much all at once. steve’s arms tighten around your thighs, holding you open as he grinds in slow rolls, savoring every flutter of your walls around him.
he leans down, sucking one peaked nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking while his hips keep that relentless, deep rhythm. “can’t fucking wait to see how these leak for me,” he groans, switching to the other side, completely enamored by you. “you gonna let me drink from you while i fuck another load into this pretty pussy? huh?”
your body trembles under him, brain completely mushy, tears still falling as the pleasure builds again, slow and devastating. steve’s cock drags along every sensitive spot inside you, the stretch constant and so perfect. he keeps mumbling between kisses, voice cracking with how much he wants it. “gonna breed you so good, baby. mmph. make you mine forever.”
he stays buried deep, hips rolling in tight, grinding circles, refusing to speed up even as both of you edge closer. the room is filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, wet and filthy, and steve’s broken whimpers every time your pussy clenches around him. he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking apart again, sobbing his name while he follows right after, pumping another hot load deep inside you with a long, wrecked groan.
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"King Steve" and reader based on 10 things I hate about you. Thank you @graywrenhart and @moonstoneandmoonlight for creating this event! This is my piece for The Steve Harrington Summer Sleepover! The plot has some changes from the movie, but I hope you enjoy! 💖
Steve Harrington. You hated Steve Harrington. The boy with the perfect hair. The boy who had a different girl every night. At least that's the rumors that spread around the school. The reason he was known as "king". You had so much hate for Steve Harrington that you even kept it in a journal. The journal was titled 10 things I hate about Steve Harrington.
Reason 1: I hate the way you talk to me
Steve likes Nancy Wheeler. Your best friend. But every time he tries to talk to Nancy, either you were around, or she would completely ignore him.
One day you and Nancy are in front of her locker before class starts. "He won't stop looking at you, it's so embarrassing." Nancy rolls her eyes. "He's trying to win me back, we kissed like one time and then the next day he was making out with Shelly from third period." "You can do way better than Steve Harrington." Steve heard you two talking and walked over to you two.
"Hey Nance. And..." You scoff as he acts like he's trying to remember your name. "You still don't remember my name?" "Sorry, I guess it's just not that memorable. He smirks. Tommy H. and Carol laugh in the distance.
Steve had a plan. Tommy H. suggested to Steve that he should pretend to date you to make Nancy jealous.
"There is no way that Y/N would agree to fake date me. She literally hates me."
"Of course she won't. But you don't have to tell her it's fake."
"I don't know Tommy, that could really hurt her."
"Since when do you care about sparing Y/N's feelings?"
"I don't. But Nancy may never forgive me if she finds out."
"Do you want the girl or not Harrington?"
Steve came up to you later in the library. "Hey Y/N." You looked up from your book, startled to see Steve Harrington of all people in the library. "You actually remembered my name for once. What are you doing in the library? I didn't think you could read." "Haha, very funny. I'm here to see you actually." "Me? Why?"
Reason 2: I hate your stupid hair
It's several weeks later, and Steve has still been trying to get your attention. You keep turning him down because you can't stand him, and you know that he can't actually like you. Eventually 3 weeks later you reluctantly agree to one date after he asks you for the hundred time, and Nancy told you to give him a chance.
He showed up to your house at 7 sharp, with flowers and his hair perfectly (annoyingly) styled like always. You had dressed casually because you weren't exactly looking forward to going out with Steve like any other girl at your school would be.
"Wow Harrington, you actually showed up on time. Shocker." "Well, this is a date, and I am a gentleman after all. And you can call me Steve you know, you don't have to call me by my last name tonight" "Let's just get this over with Harrington."
To your surprise you actually had a good time on the date. You wouldn't admit that to him, maybe not even to yourself. He wasn't "king Steve" he was just... Steve. You two actually talked and got to know each other better. You could tell he wasn't as stuck up as he acted at school. And you hated to admit that maybe you were wrong about Steve the whole time. And Steve, despite his original plan, was enjoying himself as well.
3. I hate it when you stare
A few days later, you were working on an assignment after school. You were supposed to be working on a project with Nancy, but she had to cancel to babysit Holly. But apparently Steve got the memo, because about 30 minutes into your assignment Steve was knocking at your window. You get up to open it, and Steve clumsily climbs in.
"Are you ever going to knock like a normal person?" "Where's the fun in that baby?" You looked at Steve surprised. You had only been with Steve for 3 days, and he called you baby so casually like he had been doing it for years.
"Why are you even here? Don't you have plans or something?" He plops down on your bed sitting beside you. "Wow, you really don't want to spend time with me? I thought you were starting to like me." You roll your eyes. "I only somewhat tolerate you Harrington." He puts his hand on his heart and gasps dramatically. "Wow, that hurts the ego"
10 minutes later, you were still working on your assignment and Steve was staring.
"What is that look?" "I'm not giving you a look" "You are too." "You're just... Really pretty."
Yep, I'm screwed. Steve thought to himself.
Reason 4: I hate it when you make me laugh
After you had finished your assignment (with several distractions from Steve) you agreed to let him take you to the arcade. You played several games together, and Steve even "let you win" at ski ball. You laughed harder than you had in years. You were starting to realize that you were falling for Steve, and you were falling hard.
Reason 5: I hate it when you lie
Of course you found out the truth from Carol. You were in the bathroom, and Carol walked in talking to someone. "Can you believe she actually thinks he likes her?" "I know, she's not even close to his type." "I'm surprised he's kept up the act this whole time, he must really be desperate to get Nancy back."
Reason 6. I hate that you make me cry
You waited in the stall until you heard Carol walk out. You didn't want to believe it. You knew Steve was a complete jerk before you started seeing each other, but he couldn't have been faking the whole relationship, could he? You had to confront him. You needed to know. So you had gone up to him when he was at his locker. "Is it true?" "Is what true?" "Steve I need you to tell me the truth. Did you start dating me to make Nancy jealous?"
Steve didn't say anything. He stayed silent, He just gave this guilty look, like you had caught him in the lie.
You didn't know what to think. The next thing you know, your hand collides with his face, and you slap him. You hear gasps and snickers in the hallway. " I should have known you'd never change Harrington."
You turned around and walked away, not wanting to cry in front of him. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. When you finally were outside, the tears started to fall.
Reason 7: I hate it when you're not around
You had avoided Steve since the day you confronted him. He tried several times to talk to you, but you stayed away.
Reason 8: I hate that you haven't called
It had been about 2 weeks when Steve finally got the courage to call you. He asked again to talk in person, even though you had denied talking to him several times before, but as much as you hated to admit, you missed Steve. So you agreed to hear him out.
He had showed up on your doorstep with your favorite flowers and your favorite book, that you had mentioned once when you were still talking.
"So the whole time you were just trying to make Nancy jealous?
"Yes..."
It was silent for a moment.
"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I swear, it may have started out fake, but none of my feelings for you were fake. I... I think I fell in love with you."
"And how do you expect me to believe you? You have lied to me the entire time." "I dont expect anything from you. But I would like to make it up to you, if you will let me. Even if it takes years."
" It won't be easy Harrington, it won't just take flowers and gifts you know. You will have to earn it."
"I expect nothing less, I will make this right."
Reason 9: I hate that I don't hate you, at all & Reason 10: I hate that you made me fall in love with you
Several years later you and Steve were married, and moving into your first place together. It wasn't a big house like Steve's parents had, but it was perfect for the two of you. It was a reminder of the ups and downs in your relationship with Steve, and how far you had come since high school. You and Steve hadn't gotten together right away, there were still some trust issues you had to work through first. But eventually you had slowly started working on the trust that was broken, and ended up happier and stronger as a couple then before.
Steve was helping you pack up the rest of your things from your place. And on your floor, was the journal. Steve picked it up and smiled to himself.
summary: Days of petty vacation bickering take an unexpected turn when Steve accidentally walks in on you naked. Now you're icing him out entirely, and he would do anything for you to talk to him again... literally anything.
warnings: accidental nudity (no descriptions of reader's body apart from being afab), SMUT (+18), oral (f), fingering, soft dom! steve, p i v, unprotected sex.
words: 3.8k || masterlist
August finally rolls around, and with it? The long awaited time off work you managed to get.
But it wasn’t just the time off that exited you. You were now finally in the cabin near the lake you've rented with your friends to get out of town for a week.
So these were exciting times. Sunbathing in front of a lovely lake with your best friends. Playing volleyball, chicken, and dumb drinking games. Having sleepovers every night for a whole week. Tripping over big Nikes thrown in the middle of the kitchen floor... Wait what?
Yes. It wasn’t all fun and games the living-together situation. Who in their right mind takes off their shoes in the kitchen and just leaves them there? Well, from the size of the shoe and the fact that they're white and red Nikes... It’s easy to take a guess.
"Steve!" you scream, holding the Nikes in your hand.
"Yeah, sup?" he comes out of the bathroom.
"Why are your shoes in the middle of the kitchen floor?"
"Oh, sorry. I just took them off before I took a shower." he says, grabbing them.
"In the kitchen? And you just left them here?" you question.
"I said sorry!" he looks at you like you're crazy.
"You're leaving your entire wardrobe laying around the house instead of your own room!" you start. "Just yesterday you had two hoodies on the couch. Not one, two! And, oh look at that! They're still laying there!" you glance at the couch.
"Jeez! Sorry, mom!" he chuckles sarcastically.
"Oh, shut up!"
"Well, what about you taking over the bathroom?" he complains.
"What?" you ask, confused at the accusation.
"You're taking up 80% of the sink with your hair products, and make up, and body creams." he lists. "I can't even find a square inch to put down my toothbrush!"
"Hair products that you are also using! Don't think I didn't notice!" you respond.
"Oh, please! That’s so dumb." he rolls his eyes.
And unfortunately, it doesn't stop there. Even though these are things that could annoy anyone also living in this house, it only seems to fire you two up.
"You still haven't done the dishes?" Steve comes into the kitchen already seeking troubles.
"What?" you frown.
"It was your turn! Robin did them yesterday."
"I thought it was your turn! I did them two days ago already."
"No, I already cooked today. So it's your turn to do them." he argues.
"Well, I cooked yesterday. What does that have to do with anything?" you say back.
"I can do the dishes." Jonathan offers.
"Yeah, but it was the princess's turn to do them. But it seems she thinks she's too good for that!" he smiles sarcastically.
"No, but I do think you're way too obsessed with me." you say final, and walk away. Leaving Steve with the next sentence in his mouth.
"Can you believe her?" he asks Jonathan.
"Dude, it's not that big of a deal." he says and starts with the dishes.
But to be fair, Steve is not the only one acting crazy.
"Give me the blanket." you say once you can lie down on the couch to watch a movie with the group.
"What? No, I grabbed it first." Steve says.
"Well, I called dibs on the blanket earlier when we were picking the movie." you explain.
"That’s insane! You can't call dibs on a blanket!" he laughs.
"I already did and nobody complained, so give it to me."
"That’s true, she did." Robin agrees.
"I don't care. You didn't call dibs while I was present, so it doesn't count for me." he argues.
"Oh, now you're just making shit up." you complain.
"Can’t you just share the blanket?" Eddie steps in, tired of the stupid bickering.
"It's not as comfortable!" you insist.
"It's even more comfortable! You can also cuddle while you're at it!" Eddie claims. "Maybe that's best for everyone so you two quit fighting over everything."
"He wishes." you comment.
"No, you wish." Steve responds.
"You both wish! You're acting like toddlers tugging on each other's hair because you like each other!" Eddie shouts and Robin chuckles loudly.
"That’s so true!" she says.
But the big problem comes the day after. You were alone in the cabin while the rest of the group was down by the lake. The sun was setting and you went inside to take a shower now before everyone here starts making a line in front of the bathroom to do the same.
You had everything set in the bathroom. Underwear, pajamas, skin care, hair products. Everything but the towel, you had left it in your room.
You were already butt naked about to run the water when you noticed. But since everyone is still at the lake and you're alone in here, what's the issue?
So you opened the door and walked quickly towards your room, when suddenly-
"Oh, shit!" Steve freezes when he sees you like that. It takes him three whole seconds to take his hands to his eyes.
"WHA- DON'T LOOK!" you try to cover yourself but you have nothing. You run to grab the first shirt you find laying around... his, of course. But you grab it either way and cover yourself up. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"
"I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T THINK YOU'D COME OUT NAKED!" he's still covering his eyes.
"I WAS ABOUT TO SHOWER BUT I FORGOT MY TOWEL!" you complain. "I THOUGHT I WAS ALONE HERE!"
"I JUST CAME TO GRAB THE CAMERA TO TAKE A PICTURE OF THE SUNSET!" he explains. "I SWEAR I'M NOT A CREEP!"
"GOD! JUST GET OUT!" you scream and he does so.
Not only did that leave you staring at the wall, still covering yourself with his shirt, when you should be taking your shower. But also, you couldn't even look at him that same night when everyone came back inside.
He saw you fully naked... not just half naked. Everything. And the fact that it has to be him out everyone here with you made it ten times worse.
If it were to be Robin or Nancy you'd just apologize and even laugh about it. Hell, even if it were Eddie or Jonathan it would be embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as it was with Steve fucking Harrington!
You've been arguing with him since you got here practically! You were at each other's throats all the time. It was humiliating.
So, no. For the next two days you don't even look at him, let alone speak. It’s not like he didn't apologize ten times more after the first one. He did.
"I'm so fucking sorry, okay? But it doesn't have to be a big deal. I swear I didn't tell anyone, and I barely even saw anything." he tries to comfort you.
But you know he's lying. He saw plenty. Three whole seconds actually.
"Come on, talk to me, scream at me, tell me I'm a fucking idiot." he insists, but no words leave your mouth still. You just leave the room like you didn’t listen.
But it's not like the rest of the group didn't notice something was wrong. The only one who knew was Robin, you told her that same night before going to sleep. She obviously tried to comfort you telling you it didn't have to be so embarrassing. And she even gave you the idea that maybe getting even would solve it. Maybe walking in on him in the shower would work. Kind of an "eye for an eye" situation. But you weren’t going to do that.
You didn't know what you were going to do, actually. You couldn’t ignore him forever, but maybe just enough time until you didn't blush at even the thought of it.
But the gang had a different opinion. Robin didn't snitch, but as I said, they're not stupid, they know for some reason you're not talking to him. So they decide to help by giving you privacy.
One afternoon you notice how empty the cabin is when you get back from a walk around the lake. You thought you were alone until you saw Steve coming down the stairs.
He freezes again for a second when he sees it's just the two of you here.
"Hey," he tries again. "I think they went for a hike."
You just nod slightly, letting him know you heard him, but still didn't feel like hanging out with him.
"Honey, I'm sorry. I don’t know how to keep apologizing. And I don’t entirely know what's the problem because you won't even look at me." he explains. "Please, just give me a hint."
"If I look at you, I’m reminded of why I want to pack my bags and take the next bus home." you finally say to him.
"But why? It was an accident, I didn't plan it like some freak." he explains for the millionth time.
"But you saw." you explain. "You stood there, Steve. For three whole seconds just looking at me, bare. I feel so exposed around you."
"Can you look at me?" he asks and you finally do. "I froze because my brain short-circuited. I walked inside the cabin and you just... took the air right out of my lungs."
You stay looking at him, listening. He's talking like he's admitting, confessing to something.
"I didn't mean to disrespect you, I am so sorry." he continues. "But if you're embarrassed around me because of what I saw... then that's just stupid."
You frown, still listening but ready to get offended if he's not careful.
"You should not feel embarrassed at all for the body you have. You are stunning. There's not a single bad thought about what I saw when I saw you. I'm just blown away by how beautiful you looked."
"Steve, It's fine-" he cuts you off.
"Don't tell me I'm just saying things to make you feel better. I'm telling the truth. I just saw how gorgeous and sexy you are and that’s all I can think about now. For two days straight, the only thing running through my brain is the image of your beautiful body." he says, almost whispering. "And I'm really sorry for embarrassing you, but you shouldn't be!"
You stay silent, not expecting this confession at all.
"And this is hell, to be honest too. Because at the same time, you're not speaking to me. You won't even look at me when the only thing on my mind is just you."
"You're not just saying things?" you double-check.
"I almost cut my finger off earlier when I was chopping the onions because I had my mind on you." he chuckles, showing you the bandaid on his finger as proof.
You laugh softly. "What were you thinking about exactly?" you ask, ever so innocently.
"I don't wanna say." he smiles, looking down. Shy all of the sudden.
"Come on. You have to now." you smile too.
"You are gonna think I'm a creep." he insists.
"Try me." you shrug.
"I was thinking about how soft your skin must feel." he admits. "Your chest, stomach... thighs."
Your breath hitches. And as he says the word 'thighs' you suddenly feel the need to rub them together. "What else?"
"It only gets worse from here." he warns you. "I can't quite leave the image of your tits off my head."
"Steve!" you close your eyes and cover your face at his words.
"I'm sorry, I just- it's true... they're even better than what I imagined."
"You... what?" you laugh.
"I've wanted you for months. Even more now that I see you every second of the day." he confesses. "And I may or may not have... imagined what's under the swimsuits you've been wearing."
"These are some... serious confessions." you say.
"They're not really helping my case of me not being a creep, are they?" he realizes.
"I know you didn't do it on purpose. You couldn’t have known I'd come out naked to look for my towel... Right?" you smirk.
"Right, obviously!" he nods.
"You know, um... Robin gave me the idea that, maybe, if I saw you naked I'd stop feeling so embarrassed."
"Did she now?" he smiles. "Is that something you wanna try?"
"... Maybe." you shrug again.
Without another word, he takes off his shirt first, showing his glorious chest and arms that you've already been eyeing way too much when he’s in his truck suits. Then comes off the sneakers and the pants. He looks over at you to check you still want this before lowering his boxers until they reach the ground.
And there he stands. A naked Steve in all his glory. And boy, does it help your case. He's... there's no way to put it lightly, big. Probably the biggest you've seen.
You've heard the rumours. You were friends with some girls who hooked up with him in high-school. Also, Nancy has told you how difficult and painful her first time was... you just had to do the math.
But this was more than you expected. He even looks pretty too. As well as the rest of his body that just seems like a museum sculpture in the flesh.
"You can say something..." he reminds you with a smile.
"It's not very comfortable, is it?" you chuckle and he nods. "This is just not fair, you look like a model." you say, smirking.
"Not fair?" he frowns. "You literally have the body I couldn't get out of my head for two days now."
"I think we could do something about that." you comment.
"And what could that be? Care to share?" he smiles.
"I can show you better than I can tell you." you say, and you start walking upstairs as you take your clothes off slowly.
Steve almost trips over his own clothes on the floor as he hurries after you.
When he reaches the room, he sees you standing bare in front of him once again. But this time, you're not trying to cover or hide yourself. You stand looking at him, waiting for him to walk over to you.
And he does so, only two big steps and his hands are on your waist. He pulls you closer slowly, your hands go to his chest.
"You sure you want to do this?" he murmurs.
"I think we've waited long enough. Drove each other pretty crazy already." you smirk.
"Yeah, you do drive me crazy." he whispers and finally leans in to kiss you.
Your hands go up to his hair and pull him closer. Just by a kiss you can already feel yourself getting more wet.
It's no coincidence, he is a great kisser. His tongue moves slowly against your lips and against your own tongue. One of his hands grabs your jaw to deepen the kiss.
It's a rather sweet and slow kiss, in contrast to you two standing bare naked already. But something about that tells you he's going to take his time with you tonight. And you already can't wait.
He walks you both towards the bed until you fall onto it. He takes another second to just stare at you like that, and then moves to kneel on the bed in front of you.
He starts kissing you everywhere, from your neck, down to your stomach, taking his sweet time with every new inch of skin.
"You're so beautiful." he murmurs. "Open these legs for me."
"You don't have to-" you tried to tell him you were wet enough already, but he interrupts.
"I fucking want to." he looks at your pussy, nothing else. Firstly, he opens it up with his fingers. He teases your clit just lightly, to make you squirm.
He leans over and plants kisses there, some licks just to mess with you. You go to grab his hair, move it away from his face. He looks at your eyes as you're looking at him, and he dives in. He sucks and then licks it over, alternating between those two.
His fingers also start teasing. His other hand grabs your thigh harder and harder and opens you up more.
He spits on your clit and then licks firmly. Your moans only working for him to work more fiercely.
"Such a sweet pussy." he murmurs almost against your skin. "This all for me? So wet for me?"
"Yes, Steve. For you." you nod and keep tugging on his hair.
"So pretty, and-" one big kiss. "mine, right?" another kiss. His eyes locked on your.
"Yours, baby." you nod again.
His fingers that were teasing your entrance finally start pushing in. You moan louder once he finds that one spot and curls his fingers towards it.
The combination of those thrusts inside you, right where you needed them, plus his mouth doing everything but stopping on your clit, is making a tight knot on your stomach.
"Don't stop." you exhale. He wasn't planning on stopping either way, but he takes that as fuel to move faster.
"God! Steve!" Your screams work like warning bells to let him know you're about to come, and he wants nothing more.
A strong feeling washes over you, hitting you like a wave in the sea. He still moves only to stimulate you more and drag it out. He loves the way your breath got messier and your hands grabbed him with all their force. He then moves back to let you catch your breath.
"Good girl." he praises you and keeps caressing your legs. After a minute, he speaks again to check on you. "You wanna keep going? Wanna go to sleep?"
"No, we can keep going." you shake your head.
"Alright. Stay like this, but wrap your legs around me." he guides you. Then grabs his big and now almost red cock and lines it with your entrance. "Tell me if it hurts."
"Keep going." you nod to let him know you'll be just fine.
He pushes in, first his red tip inside you, then keeps pushing until he's halfway in. He waits a second and starts thrusting back and forth, letting you get used to that. And with each thrust he lets just a little more in each time.
"That’s almost all of it. Think you can take it, pretty girl?" he teases you.
It's a new stretch that definitely feels different, but it feels so good at the same time. You know the pleasure will beat the pain in no time. "Yes, more."
"Atta girl." he praises you and pushes all of it in. He lets a loud moan out at the feeling of your tight walls wrapping around him completely. "Feels so good, insanely good."
"You're so big, Steve." you moan, what's the harm in stroking his ego while you're at it?
He keeps thrusting in and out at a steady pace, still slow to let you get used to it.
Then a few minutes later, he grabs your legs to pull them higher on his waist and starts going faster and faster.
"Oh, yes!" you let out as you hug him, pulling his body closer.
"You like that? How does my cock feel inside this sweet pussy?" he murmurs. His mouth goes to your neck while one hand is on the bed to keep himself from crushing you, and the other grips on your thigh almost definitely leaving marks.
"So good, Steve. The best."
"Yeah? That's right. Fucking made for my cock."
You don't know nor care if you're still alone in the cabin. Your friends could already be back for wherever it was they went to. And if they were, they would probably be able to hear you two. But that thought didn't even cross your mind right now. The only important thing was the feeling of Steve on top and inside of you.
He puts one of your legs on his shoulder and thrusts slower, this feels so much deeper he wants to feel every second of it. Your moans get higher and pitchier, letting him know it is definitely working wonders for you too.
He enjoys seeing you like this, totally ruined on his cock while he moves how he wants. You look beautiful and fucked out.
His thumb travels up to your mouth and you suck on it. This shouldn't make his cock twitch like it does, but he almost has to take a second to calm down.
With a pop, it leaves your mouth and attacks your puffy clit again. Not roughly, quite the opposite actually. A high contrast to his thrusts that are now going hard again.
One of your hands lets go of the sheets to grip on his arm, putting your nails into the skin. "Too much." you whine.
"Oh, it's too much?" he mocks you. "Poor baby, too bad you're just gonna have to take it."
"Fuck, Steve!"
"You're being so good at taking it, you can do it." The back and forth of his praises and mocks are making you feel dizzy in the best way.
"I'm gonna come." you moan, still digging your nails into his arm, but the movements of his thumb don't seem to miss even a little bit.
"Gonna come on my cock and make a mess?" he moves even faster. Talking to you like this, and knowing it's working for you too makes him feel just as close. "That’s it, come around me. Come on, baby, I want it."
"Steve, oh my god." broken moans that almost sound like cries leave your mouth. You arch back and let yourself be taken away by the pleasure once more.
"Yeah, yeah, just like that. Look how fucking pretty you look coming for me." he whines as well now. He was holding it until you finished first, and now seeing you come undone because of him is enough to drive a man crazy. "Where, baby? Where do you want it?"
"Inside, all inside." you pull him closer and he lets out big and loud breaths mixed with moans as he paints your walls.
His arms give up and he just lets himself rest on top of you. Careful not to hurt you, but definitely crushing you a little with his weight.
You both wait like that for your breaths to even out. A couple of minutes later, his face is nuzzling into your neck.
"You're fucking perfect." he smiles.
"So clingy." your turn to mock him now.
"Yeah, and you'll have to get used to it." he jokes.
"I can live with that."
"You sure? I'm gonna leave my clothes all around the house." he reminds you.
"Yeah, well, I'm gonna fill your bathroom with my things... and your bedroom." you add.
"Sounds great." he whispers.
"The clothes aren't so bad. But finders keepers." you warn him.
summary: When your ex-friends-with-benefits proves he's incapable of keeping his mouth shut even while jerking off alone in his tent, you're forced to intervene. God, do you have to do everything yourself?
tags: MDNI, [SMUT] [ex-friends-with-benefits to lovers] [camp counselors][summer rivalry] [heavy mutual pining] [angst] [steve & reader are both college age] [fourth of july] [semi-public sex] [handjob] [tent sex] [trying to be quiet and failing miserably] [discussions of canon stranger things events] [oral sex f receiving] [talking about trauma/therapy] [fingering] [steve calls reader sweetheart, brat, bitch (once) and baby] [one thigh spank] [unprotected creampie] 5k words
a/n: saw this post from @s3xytosomeone and got inspired. let’s all just pretend i actually posted this on the 4th, okay? okay thanks!!!!
There are noises coming from Steve’s tent.
You lie completely still under your own tent’s ceiling, breath caught in your chest.
There it is again. Another soft grunt, but this one is deeper, almost desperate.
You’ve heard these sounds before. Your mouth goes dry as the reality of what he’s doing settles in your gut, a sharp ache building low between your hips.
Thank God you’re all the way out instead of back at camp where your middle school-age campers are tucked away, sleeping in their cabins on the hill.
At Camp Woodwick, the last night of their month-long summer session always ends on the Fourth of July. Which is tonight. And on the last night, the counselors don’t have a curfew, so the whole lot of you can pitch tents down by the lake and watch the fireworks show.
It was fun for awhile, but after a handful of lackluster campfire stories and couple burnt marshmallows, Steve announced he was going to bed. The guys complained, begging him to light some fireworks with them, but he said he was going to turn in anyway.
Right after his eyes caught yours.
You excused yourself shortly after him, not even really sure why. And as you changed into your sleep shorts and a t-shirt, and settled into your sleeping bag, you blamed your sour mood on the heat and the bugs.
Assuring yourself that it had nothing to do with the fact that you and Steve Harrington have been at each other’s throats for weeks.
Tonight is is counselor’s night out! It’s supposed to be a fun end-of-the-summer bash for all the adults who were paid a few grand to babysit. It’s the night everyone looks forward to the most.
You should be having fun—being young. Whatever that means.
At some point between the whole saving-the-world-and-barely-escaping-with-your-life-thing, you became somewhat of a stranger to that idea. Your life had been, for lack of a better term, flipped upside down.
Steve groans again. Hot embers flare to life in your core, stirred up by the sound of his thready voice. So low and breathless.
He has to shut up. What is he thinking, jerking off like this with people nearby?
Granted, your tents are the furthest away from everyone else’s, and no one has really gone to bed yet. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. But between the sticky humid air clinging to your skin, and the sharp whistles from exploding fireworks, when Steve moans softly again you finally just…snap.
Ripping the blankets off yourself, you rustle around your tent for your flashlight, grumbling and muttering in the dark.
God, you have to do everything yourself, don’t you?
You wince as your tent opens with a loud zip that punctuates the darkness surrounding you. Peeking over your shoulder, you can see the smoke from the campfire in the distance, curling up towards the stars. A few of your fellow counselors are still lounging around the fire, but most of them are small shadows dotting the lake’s edge.
Steve pitched his orange tent under a tree.
Stupid.
Doesn’t he know that the roots will mess the tent stakes up? You’re surprised he could even get them in the ground. Honestly, it will probably fall down on him tonight.
You hope it does.
His tent is dark and quiet, but you march over anyway, flashlight raised so the beam falls straight on him when you turn it on.
You yank on his tent’s zipper. It gives easily. A muffled curse comes from inside, and you click on the flashlight to reveal Steve lying on his side, bare chest rising and falling as he squints into the bright beam.
“God, you never could stay quiet, could you?” You say, bullying your way through the tent flap and zipping it back up behind you.
Steve scrambles to throw his sleeping bag over himself, but it does practically nothing to hide his raging boner underneath.
“What the fuck do you want?” He snaps, glaring up at you.
Despite yourself, your eyes catch on a delicious bicep, and his muscled shoulder in the shine of your flashlight. That chest hair has taunted you all summer long. It’s been torturous pretending you didn’t know what it felt like against your bare breasts, against your back...
You clear your throat. “I just thought I’d let you know the whole camp can hear you jerking off.”
“What? I’m not—Jesus.” His big hand drags down his face, even as he pulls the sleeping bag up higher. “Get out.”
Whoops, there you go again, getting distracted by his hands.
Maybe you should close your eyes, or turn around—something—because looking at him stretched out in the dark like this is making you think wicked things.
Your lips twist in a mocking smirk, and you gesture down to the sleeping bag. “Oh, c’mon, Steve. Why are you so embarrassed? It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”
Lots of times, actually.
Through the years, you’d been there for everything—watched him get captured, tortured, and sacrificed for others. But after it was all over, and the dust settled, you fell into each other a different way.
Because it wasn’t the days plagued with Demogorgons, evil Russians, or even Vecna that were the worst.
It was the days that followed.
The hollow darkness you experienced as the world kept moving on, oblivious to the memories that plagued you both. You had to learn how to live normally again, and something about that was both relieving and excruciatingly lonely at the same time.
The nightmares had a way of sticking to you like blood you couldn’t get off no matter how many times you scrubbed yourself raw in the shower.
It was in those shaky, sweaty, middle-of-the-night fever dreams that you and Steve found solace in each other. Because when it all became a bit too much, you could dig your nails into someone else’s skin, feel a slick, hot mouth against yours—ground yourself in something intrinsically human just to prove that after everything, you still are.
But all that came to a screeching halt last summer.
“Okay,” Steve sighs, shifting a little and squinting up at you. “Let’s say that I was. You wanted to come over and…cockblock me? From myself? And turn that thing off unless you want everyone to see two silhouettes in here.”
You click the flashlight off immediately, plunging you both into darkness.
Maybe you should rescind your previous statement. Because now, without being able to see him, his proximity is somehow affecting you even more.
You can hear his soft breaths, smell the lake water on his skin. And underneath it all, the familiar sounds and scents of him that opens a gaping hole of nostalgia in the pit of your stomach.
You try to laugh, but it comes out cold. “You think I give a fuck if you’re rubbing one out, Harrington? No. I came over here because you’re fucking whimpering and moaning—”
“—I was not whimpering.”
“—and you’re incapable of keeping quiet—yes, you were, and I was getting sick of hearing it. So, either do it quieter, or find someone to cover your fucking mouth.”
As you were talking, your vision adjusted to the darkness. Which is a very bad thing, because now you can see him again. Specifically the outline of his mussed hair as he lifts his chin to meet your gaze.
“You offering?”
Your breath catches.
You should say no. You should tell him to go fuck himself—literally— and leave right now. He can let the whole camp hear him for all you care.
But instead, you hesitate.
Now, Steve is smart. Smarter than he gives himself credit for, that’s for sure. And there are certain patterns he’s picked up on with you over the years. Like, when you pause like that, the answer is almost always a yes.
Which is why the second you go quiet, and the distant laughter of the other counselors fills the space between you, he’s already batting the sleeping bag off his lap.
“I knew it,” he says. The fabric slips off him just as a firework bursts overhead, and your eyes drag over his body. The lean, tan muscle from all his time outside this summer, down to his long, hard cock jerking against his happy trail. “You’re so busy acting like you hate me, wanting to play this game where we bitch at each other all summer, and now you’re making up excuses to come into my tent—”
“Oh, trust me,” you scoff, tearing your eyes away to meet his again. “It’s not an excuse.”
“No?” he says softly, leaning back on one arm and gesturing at his body with the other. “Then, prove it.”
“Fine, but I’m only staying to keep you quiet,” you warn him, pinning him with a harsh look.
“Sure. Whatever,” Steve rasps, watching as you drop to your knees beside him.
Your fingers curl into his sleeping bag beside his shoulder, but you’re careful not to touch him.
He wishes you would.
You gesture impatiently at him, your hand a shadowy blur in the dark. “Go ahead and get it over with. I’m not sitting here all night. God.”
Steve rushes to obey, and when wraps his hand around his cock again, the rush is so intense it’s almost painful. The way you’re sitting there just watching him is making his head feel fuzzy, and his dick swell.
And look at you—pretending to not be affected in the slightest watching the flushed head poke out of his fist over and over as he jerks off in front of you. God, you turn him on so fucking much.
Steve heaves a stuttering breath, and his head drops back onto the ground as the pleasure pools in his gut. He thinks he’s doing a good job being quiet. But he can’t smother the moan that escapes him the second your warm hand brushes his shoulder.
“Steve,” you hiss, warning lacing your voice.
“Shut me up, then. Goddamn.” He groans, his cock twitching in his palm. “What are you even here for? I could do this myself—” At that moment, your hand finds his chest and, well, your fingers might as well be a defibrillator. His hips jerk, mouth dropping open in pleasure. “—oh, fuck yeah.”
Your touch is heaven. His eyelids threaten to shut as your fingers brush through his chest hair, over his ribs— so sure, and steady, soothing and warm. Like his flesh and bone is a map you know by heart.
He’s panting, desperate not to make a sound and give you a reason to take your hand away while your palm trails lower.
He raises his chin to catch a glimpse of your profile as the fireworks crack in the sky, raining down in bright fizzling pops that he feels in his chest.
Honestly, he should’ve known this is how the summer would end with you.
He’s known it, and yet, he’s run from it.
Because the last time he had you…God, he’s been such an idiot.
Last summer, when you came home from college for break, he’d been sitting on your doorstep. A silent understanding passed between you two, and then you’d grabbed his hand and taken him up to your room.
Afterwards, you were laying under him, sweaty and warm, eyes glowing with…with something that made his heart tug painfully. And suddenly, it all got to be too much.
He’d been craving you all semester. As if you were a long drag from a cigarette. And that gnawing ache didn’t surface with anyone else. Only you.
His chest swelled up tight, and the bridge of his nose started to burn, and he realized… he was scared.
Terrified, actually.
Because what if the both of you reaching out for each other was nothing but a trained response, like Pavlov’s dogs or some shit? What if you had built this trauma bond…thing? He wasn’t entirely sure what that even meant, but he knew that no one could know him so intrinsically, so deeply, so invasively and still want him anyway.
So, Steve proceeded to do the stupidest thing possible by dropping a kiss to your forehead, pulling his clothes back on, and walking out the door.
He told himself it was for the best. Months after, even though he thought of you constantly, and still woke up slicked in sweat, hands flying to his wounds in the dark, he never called you.
But when you showed up at Camp Woodwick, looking to earn some cash over the summer, same as him, all the walls he’d built up between him and his past came crashing down.
So, he pushed you away. For weeks. It was worse than he thought it would be, though. Because when he pushed, you pushed back harder.
His head swims with the knowledge that after a whole year without you, you’re here. You’re the same. Familiar. The smell of your hair, down to the soft breaths escaping to ur lips.
He’s still hard as a rock, but his hand isn’t cutting it. Not when what he really wants is right here in front of him.
Steve curses under his breath. “You wanna help me out, sweetheart? Give me that mouth?”
“W-what?” You snort. “You can hardly be quiet with your own hand, Harrington. You think you’re going to survive that?”
“Please? Just lick it. Just the tip.”
“Stop begging. Also, be qu—“
“Right. Right, I’ll be quiet,” Steve grumbles. “Just—if you’re gonna fucking march in here and tell me to do it faster, then the least you could do is help me out.” Another firework squeals, then pops, showering you in gold as you blink down at him.
Boisterous laughs drift over the water, and your eyes flick up instinctively to meet the tent wall before your bottom lip disappears between your teeth. His stomach flips in anticipation. He knows that look.
“C’mon,” he urges, fighting back a smirk. “You know how I like it, baby.”
Shit.
Steve knows that pet name has always been your weakness. You’re not sure exactly why. Maybe it’s because it reminded you that on the outside, you were just friends. But in bed…you were his.
You shouldn’t fall for a cheap trick like that. Look at him, biting the corner of his mouth like he’s trying not to smirk. Cocky bastard.
But, even so, you make the mistake of glancing down his body.
His hand slips away in a silent invitation, revealing his heavy cock jutting out from his soft tummy and you lose the war.
Rocks dig into your knees under the tent floor but you hardly pay them any mind, your clit already throbbing in anticipation of touching him.
“Fine. But only because it’s faster.” You say.
Your hand curls around him, reveling in the hot, velvety feel of him in your palm. A sound slips from his throat, sudden and unbidden.
You jerk your head up, and he can’t see your face clearly in the dark, but he knows your body language. The message is solidified when you bring your other hand up to rake through the hair on his chest, digging into his pec in warning.
Steve’s hand lands on yours, and the warmth seeping through his fingers doesn’t just make your pussy clench, it also makes your nose burn.
You turn your attention back to stroking him, ignoring the tightness in your lungs. Ignoring the way you’re practically holding hands across his chest.
“God, you’ve been kind of a bitch to me all summer,” Steve grunts, thrusting up into your touch. “You know that?”
You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you. “Steve, you can’t call me a bitch at the same time you’re fucking my hand. Either we’re fighting or we’re fucking. Pick one. Jesus.”
“I don’t know.” His head falls back against the ground with a heavy thud. “We’re pretty good at both, apparently. God, your hand feel so g—”
“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss.
“Sorry! Sorry.”
Another firework shrieks into the sky, exploding in a loud pop, and showering you both in a flash of red. It lights up Steve’s body, illuminating the scars along his side. Long jagged things, carved deep under his ribs.
You can’t help but remember the panic that seized you when the Demobats descended on him. You’ll never forget the sickening horror that coursed through your body when you looked over to see him pale and shaking, dripping in blood.
You swallow hard. Then, as if pulled by some invisible string, you lower your head and brush your mouth against his skin. His core muscles flex at the soft glide of your tongue on his belly, but he tenses as your lips trace his scar line.
“Don’t—” he rasps. Suddenly, his hand flies down and tugs your chin away.
“What?” You whisper against his skin, a little teasing. But when you flick your eyes up to his, he looks away, raking a hand through his hair. Your hand slows around his cock and you frown. A thread of anxiety coils in your gut.
“What?” you repeat. “I was there, too, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.” He lets out a short laugh, but the warmth is gone from his voice. “I just—really don’t want to be reminded of that right now.”
You pull back, hands falling away from him instantly.
Another bottle rocket screams, punctuating the heavy beat of silence that follows. Steve notices the shift in you, the way your body locks up in hesitation.
Sighing heavily, he raises his palms to his face and digs them into his eyes.
“Sorry, I’m—that was fucked up. I’m sorry.”
You sit back on your heels, suddenly unsure, and your eyes drop to the ground.
He combs through his hair again roughly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I was just…there’s a kid here that reminds me of a little Eddie, and the scars—”
You smile softly. “Reed, right? I’ve been thinking the same thing all summer.”
“Every time I see those scars, I think about the bats, and then I think about losing Eddie, and then with you here—” He gestures towards you and he trails off.
You don’t need him to finish the thought, though. You can see it in the way his chest heaves, and the slight crack in his voice.
With a sigh, you settle down onto the ground beside him. He shuffles wordlessly, giving you room to lay on the other half of his sleeping bag.
“It’s okay, Steve. This is how it always was for us. Just—two people trying to get through it, you know? To feel something again.”
“Oh yeah? Is that all were?” His voice is deeper now. Huskier. It makes a lump build in your throat. “Was that all it was for you?”
You watch the light show fall across the tent ceiling together, muted little orbs glowing through the fabric.
“No,” you say softly. “But everything hits me at once sometimes, too, you know. And when that happens...fuck, I just need you. And that feeling…” The words fizzle out and fall like the embers in the sky, and your hand reaches up to clutch at your chest—like it would be easier just to rip out your heart and show him.
Steve hesitates, swallowing hard. “It’s not…bad, right? That feeling?”
“No, Steve. It’s not bad.”
A quiet moment passes, then he blows out a breath. “At college, they have these therapists. Robin dragged me to a session once, so I went.” You turn your head to look at him, but he keeps his eyes above. “I was scared, like, what if they didn’t believe me, you know? And, well, I’m not sure if Dr. Treya really believes me, but that doesn’t seem to matter much. She treats it all like it’s true, anyway.”
There’s a loud squeal of a bottle rocket, then laughter somewhere in the distance.
“I’m sorry we fought the last few weeks,” you whisper. “I was angry. But mostly just hurt. By last summer.”
Steve sits up a little at that, his strong arm bracing his torso as he looks down at you. “And you had every right to be,” he says. “I was a coward for leaving like I did. I got scared, I think. But, I’m getting better. At least, Robin says I am.”
You chuckle. “I’m sure she’s right.”
“But I am sorry, too. For that, and for…just for everything.”
You gaze up at him, and the urge to cup his face and bring his lips down to yours grips you by the spine. But Steve lays back down next to you before you can say anything.
“I’m proud of you for going to see a counselor,” you say into the dark after a long moment. “Does it help?”
“Yeah.” He swallows. “But I wish there was something I could do, too, you know? Other than just talk about it.”
He takes the world upon his shoulders, this boy.
He deserves to know that, at the end of the day, someone has him. Someone wants him. Not just for what he can give, but for who he is. He’s been pushing you away because you had that for him, and he didn’t know how to accept it. Until recently.
You see that now.
His bare arm is so warm against yours. You follow it down with your fingers until you find his hand, threading your fingers through his.
“Steve, you’ve already done so much. For everyone.”
His hand practically swallows yours. Long fingers, with blunt tips. They just remind you of all the ways he’s used them to pull orgasms from your body, one after the other.
All he does is give, give, give. Even when you give him hell all summer, fuck, he gives that right back.
Your hair whispers against the sleeping bag as you turn to look at him. His brown eyes meet yours, and his soft exhale ghosts across your cheek.
You search his face for permission, because he already knows what you’re asking. When his expression softens, just enough, you don’t hesitate. Hooking your leg around his waist, you roll on top of him and sit up.
“Let me take care of you,” you say.
He sucks in a breath at the sight of you rising above him, his hand coming to land hot and heavy on your thigh.
Scooting backwards, you lower your mouth to his torso. He hisses, his other hand flying to tangle in your hair. His cock has softened slightly against his hip, but you can fix that with your mouth in no time.
His chest heaves with a shaky breath. “Wait, no. No, baby.”
You suck a soft love bite on his hip before raising your eyes to his. “You don’t want it anymore?”
“No—shit, of course I want it, but—” He snorts, but his hand finds yours and he tries to pull you up. “If we’re going to do this, I want to do it for real. Not to distract each other. Not like we used to. Can…can you do that?”
You nod once. Then again. “Yes. Yes, of course, Steve. I wasn’t—I was just—” your heart slams into your throat. “I still love you.”
A slow, sweet smile spreads across Steve’s face. Your cheeks flush, and you try to squirm away, but Steve squeezes your thigh, urging you to find his eyes again. And when you do, you see that familiar heat is back.
“Good,” he says. “Now we can get down to the real question of what the fuck do you think you’re doing barging into my tent when I’m masturbating, you little brat?”
Heat licks up your spine, and you bite back a grin. “I told you! You were being loud.”
“Yeah, sure, now tell me the real reason.”
“That is the real reason!”
“Don’t lie to me.”
You open your mouth to argue, but his hands clamp down on your hips before you can, and in one smooth motion, he flips you so you’re on your back. Your heart slams against your ribs as he pulls you down under him, his chest rising and falling against yours.
“Just admit it,” he says, a cocky grin twisting his lips right over yours. “You wanted me to lick that pretty pussy for you, didn’t you?”
Your panties dampen instantly, pulsing in anticipation of feeling his mouth on you after so long.
You might have been at each other’s throats for weeks, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t like it. You saw it in his eyes by the campfire and by every rough two-hand touch football game. Every time your face went red and you mouthed off at him he’d just smile and lift his eyebrows as if to say, ‘is that all you got?’ Maybe crook two fingers at you with a cocky tilt of his head, urging you to ‘give me more.’
Well, you could definitely give him more.
“I don’t know, Harrington,” you sigh, tilt your head against the tent floor in mock confusion. “I hardly remember what getting head from you is like.”
His grin turns wicked. Then suddenly, he’s moving—greedy hands tugging at your shorts.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, voice dripping in that mocking tone that always makes you wet. “I thought maybe you’d want me to do that thing my tongue that always—” A whimper escapes your throat and he breaks off mid-sentence with an openmouthed laugh. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
He crawls down your body, taking your shorts and underwear with him, and you gasp when something hard and hot brushes your thigh. Glad to see he’s sporting that erection again. You feel a fleeting disappointment at the fact you haven’t gotten to suck him off yet, but it’s probably better this way, to be honest.
It’s literally impossible to make Steve Harrington be quiet while getting a blowjob—
Without warning, he plunges two fingers deep into your slick channel. Your breath stutters, hips bucking into his palm on instinct. He groans out loud, but you’re too blissed out by the stretch that you can’t even get onto him for it.
Lungs seizing, heart pounding, you squirm on the slippery fabric of his sleeping bag, trying to get even closer. Your nipples harden against your T-shirt, begging for his touch. For more of him.
You peek down your body just in time to see his head disappear between your thighs, and then his mouth is on you. God, his tongue is so warm and wet against your clit, and his skillful fingers stroke you just right. In and out, then curling into the spongey spot inside that has your mouth dropping open.
“Missed those sounds you make,” he says, voice muffled against your pussy.
Shit.
You hadn’t even realized you were making noise. You dig your knee into his side in retaliation and he chuckles, squirming away before diving in again.
He licks messy, broad strokes, tasting you on purpose, getting you all over his tongue. When you grind up into his face he grabs you by the hips and moves with you, following your every wriggle and writhe.
Yep, his mouth still makes the world feel dull, reducing your hearing to the whoosh of your heartbeat in your ears as everything else just fades away into mind numbing bliss—
“Shut up,” Steve says, pulls back from you with a wicked grin. His face is covered in your arousal, glinting in the firework light, and the sight makes you clench around his fingers. “Seriously, shut up if you don’t want them to hear you.”
“Wha—Steve!” You whine, canting your hips up into his mouth again as he lowers himself back down to you. “H-help.”
He shrugs. “I’m not the one who gives a shit if they hear.”
The vibrations of his voice against your clit rips a moan from your throat, unbidden, and your lips cinch together. Your hand flies to your hip, finding his fingers there. You try to pull his hand up but he shakes off your touch, holding onto your waist and puling you roughly against his tongue.
You whine in protest, and go to pull on his hand again, but that’s a mistake.
He brings his palm down to your inner thigh with a sharp smack that has your back arching off the ground, your eyes narrowing in warning.
“Cover your own mouth, sweetheart, fuck,” he chuckles, giving your clit a soothing series of licks. “I’m busy.”
“Fuck you,” you whisper, but it quickly turns into a needy whine when he sucks the swollen nub into his mouth.
Steve continues to stretch you out on his fingers, murmuring dirty things into your pussy as he does. How sweet you taste. How tightly you’re squeezing his fingers. But you barely hear any of it.
You’re so wet—both from his mouth and your arousal—that your inner thighs slick together when you try to squeeze them. He yanks your legs apart again, and you’re powerless to stop him because the pads of his fingers are dragging out tendrils of pleasure from your spine you haven’t felt in a year.
Thankfully, the fireworks seem to be reaching a peak outside— loud bangs and pops going off every few seconds help drown out the sounds of your needy pussy and blissed-out sighs. Because frankly, you don’t have the brain power to think about anything except how desperately you need him inside you.
You whimper again accidentally. “Steve—”
“Okay, baby,” he replies instantly, knowing what you need by the tone in your voice alone. His fingers slip out and he rises up over you, your knees falling open eagerly as he lines himself up.
When he notches the tip of his cock at your entrance, your cunt greedily sucks him in. He gasps, hips bucking forward instinctively, and neither one of you are able to stop the mixed groans that ensue from finally, finally being connected like this again after so long.
Big hands scramble for a hold on your waist, blunt nails pinching your skin as he drags himself back, then forth, slamming up into you with a depth that makes you sob.
“Still fuckin’ made for me,” he groans. “Goddamnit.”
You’re panting, arms wrapped around his shoulders, biting the skin of your forearm to keep from moaning as his hips roll slow and deliberate.
“Good girl,” he praises, and you shudder, feeling the ache grow sharper. “Staying so quiet, look at you. You can’t ask me to be silent when you come around me, okay? Fuck—that’s like being tortured all over again.”
You shoot him a withering look even as you writhe underneath him. “That’s not funny.”
He laughs, and his silhouette shifts over you, his cock driving deeper and hitting that spot inside you that makes you see sparks that aren’t there. “Sorry, sweetheart. I just—oh yeah, grind that clit into me. That’s it.”
Your hands rake through his hair, desperately trying to hold onto something. But the force behind his thrusts causes you to pull on the strands, and, well, that was a mistake.
His teeth sink into the skin of your shoulder in order to stay somewhat quiet, and oh—fuck. How could you have forgotten what pulling his hair does to him? Stars burst behind your eyes as the fireworks crackle overhead, and the tension between your hips coils tighter.
“Fuck—Steve,” you gush. “Please.”
“What do you need?” He rasps against your throat, sucking and biting. “I’m all yours.”
Little tremors course though your legs as your orgasm builds, the swollen head of his cock nudging those spots deep inside that ache for him.
Only him.
“You need me to kiss you?” he says, breath hot in your ear. “Need me to shut you up?”
You nod frantically.
“Go on, ask me for it.”
You whimper, too far gone to play the game anymore. “Kiss me, Stevie. Please, please—”
“Fuck,” Steve groans at the nickname he hasn’t heard in so long, and instantly lowers his mouth to yours.
The first brush of his lips against yours makes you want to cry.
“Missed you, baby,” he says, then kisses you deeper, his tongue dipping into your mouth and swirling with yours. “So much. Missed kissing you. Missed talking with you.” He hesitates, pulling back slightly before planting one soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Missed loving you. But I guess I never really stopped, did I?”
Your eyes connect for one heartbreaking, devestatingly sweet second before you pull him back down, pouring your love for him into the gentle, yet desperate stroke of your tongue against his.
Feeling you kiss him like that snaps something deep inside him.
Your inner muscles clamps down around him as his thrusts turn messy and hard, and his hands run over your shoulders, your breasts, your hips, pulling your body back down to meet his every thrust.
The pleasure builds to an insurmountable level as he rips your shirt up to capture your nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and making you want to scream.
You flatten your palm over your lips, whimpering through the gaps in your fingers over and over, squeezing your eyes shut as Steve pushes you higher and higher until finally—you’re falling.
Your teeth bite into your fingers hard to muffle your moans as your pussy clenches down like a vice on Steve’s cock rhythmically, your orgasm rushing through you.
He lets out a choked sound above you, and with the way his chest falls in a sequence of familiar pants, you know he’s close. Through the pleasured haze, your other hand flies to cover his mouth just in time for his orgasm to hit.
“Mmhmm, mhhhmm.” Steve whines loudly, as his body tenses, and his cock twitches inside you. And you have no choice but to shove your fingers inside his lips, forcing him to suck on them as he reaches his peak. His eyes roll back as he bullies his cock against your cervix, painting your walls with his come, even as his tongue strokes your knuckles tenderly and reverently.
It takes awhile for the both of you to come back down to earth, but eventually, you let your fingers fall from his mouth and he laughs breathlessly, dipping to give you one last slow kiss before slipping out of you.
He fumbles around for his T-shirt in the darkness and then cleans you up with care, which makes your heart twist. Once he’s done, he settles on his side, and pulls you into him, your back pressed to his chest. You burrow into him, his arm settling around you, and it’s amazing how quickly your lashes start to fall, wrapped up in this familiar comfort.
“So…truce?” Steve whispers into the crook of your shoulder. You laugh softly.
Even under a hazardously leaning tent, and a sky littered with mini explosions, the world seems a little less dark right now. The past, a little less heavy.
Maybe it’s because neither of you are running away from it, anymore. But rather, facing it. Together.
And because you know, without a shadow of a doubt, Steve Harrington’s heartbeat will always be in your future.
“Truce.”
a/n: the tent definitely collapses on top of them five minutes later, by the way. also, my idea originally was not nearly as angsty, but don’t you just love it when characters highjack your story? god, the fics always turn out so much better that way.
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thinking about being steve’s coworker who he thinks is all innocent because you’re so damn sweet and completely oblivious to his flirting.
but he truly gets the shock of his life as he walks through the mall before his shift one morning and sees you through the window of the damn lingerie store next to scoops. his throat feels impossibly tight, his palms beginning to sweat at the thought of you—sweet, seemingly innocent you—buying anything from that store.
people barge into him as he completely freezes—borderline ogling you as you pick up a baby blue set and consider it carefully, a gentle finger running over the lace. steve’s cock thickens in his shorts at the thought you wearing that and he has to pull himself together before he truly embarrasses himself.
of course, he thinks about it all day. of course his eyes flicker to your bag hanging up in the staff room and wonders if you had bought the set. of course, his stomach bubbles with jealousy at the thought of you wearing the racy number for anybody who wasn’t him.
so yeah—steve thought about that little lingerie store next to scoops an awful lot.
Summary: After a foolish act of bravery nearly gets you killed, you and Steve have the argument of a lifetime. Unfortunately, (or maybe fortunately) your boyfriend happens to be ridiculously hot when he’s angry, and the line between fury and passion has a tendency to stretch very thin when it comes to the two of you.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI; Smut!, Unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it, friends), Angry sex, My hand slipped and Steve is dominant as fuck, Dirty talk, Please let me know if I forgot anything!!
Author's Note: We all knew this day would come, and now it’s finally here. In honor of Steve Harrington’s Canonically Huge Dick, I present to you my first full-on smut drabble. Special thanks to @flowersforbucky for proofreading! And as usual, please let me know what you think! If you guys like this, there’s a pretty big chance you can expect more like it in the future!!
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Steve Harrington, your boyfriend and the absolute love of your life, drives you fucking crazy.
He’s overprotective, bossy, always ready with a sarcastic comment, and so fucking cocky sometimes that you want to wring his gorgeous neck.
Perhaps luckily for both of you, you drive him crazy right back.
You’ve spent the last half hour or so shouting at each other. In his car. In his front yard. Through the halls of his empty house. And now in his bedroom, where he’s running a frustrated hand through his hair and pacing back and forth and still just as absolutely furious with you as he was since the fight began.
“What’s the point of a plan if you’re never going to stick to it?! What the fuck did you think was going to-“
“I didn’t think! I didn’t need to think! If I hadn’t gone in there, those fucking monsters would have-“
“They would have ripped you apart if I hadn’t gotten there in time!”
“But they didn’t.”
“But they would have!”
You swear you mean to leave. You mean to turn on your heel and storm out, to shake off the anger and stomp home and wait for the adrenaline and fury and…everything else to wear off on its own.
But Steve catches your wrist, and spins you back toward him, and his face is flushed and his jaw is clenched and his eyes are on fire and…well, he must be having a similar thought process about your current state, because suddenly his mouth is crushed to yours and his hands are moving up to tangle in your hair with a ferocity that steals the breath from your lungs. He backs you into the door of his bedroom, slamming you against it and caging you in with his body so hard that the impact might hurt if it weren’t for his hand catching the back of your head to shield you from the blow.
“You drive me insane.” He growls, low, as his furious hands tug your shirt over your head like the garment is the most offensive thing he’s ever seen. “Never fucking listen. Always talking back.”
“Take this off.” You tug at his own shirt, breathless and growing increasingly more desperate with each layer of clothing remaining between you.
“And bossy.” But he pulls his shirt over his head, ducking back down to bite at your neck hard enough to make your knees buckle.
“Oh, I’m the bossy one now-“ he cuts you off with another bite, hands sliding over your waist as he presses you tighter against the door until there doesn’t seem to be a millimeter of space left between you.
“Do you have any idea what could have happened if I hadn’t been there in time?” His words are dangerously quiet against your jaw, and you think he might be shaking. You pull back, catching his lips with your own as you begin to fumble with his belt. He responds faster than the crack of a whip, snatching your wrists with one hand and pinning them to the wall above your head without once breaking the kiss.
“Never sticking to the fucking plan.” He continues between demanding kisses, the fingers of his free hand working expertly at the button of your jeans. “Never. Fucking. Listen.”
“We didn’t have time to- oh God.” Your defense is cut off with a gasp as his hand dives beneath your waistband, and you hear his breath catch as his skilled fingers find just how desperate you are for him.
“Fuck-“ for just a moment, his composure breaks. You whimper, the sound leaving you before you can remember that you’re trying to sass him, and he crushes his lips to yours again as he begins to work you like a well-loved instrument. Despite his words, and the gravel still lacing his tone, his movements aren’t rough. He holds you still against the wall, completely in control, but his kiss is loving and his fingers are deft as they move in the exact way he knows will make you fall apart faster than you can think.
“Almost lost you, because you can’t stop throwing yourself into danger.” He murmurs, crooking his finger and adding a second in a single smooth movement that makes your toes curl.
“We didn’t have…t-time, fuck. Steve.”
“Still arguing with me.” He almost grumbles, but his voice is so raw and his fingers are speeding up inside of you and his thumb is working in small circles and you’re having trouble remembering to be pissy with him. That’s probably his fucking intention, but you definitely can’t complain right now. “You almost die, and two seconds later you’re arguing with me.” He pulls back, just far enough to let his nose bump against yours, eyes locked on your face like he’s trying to memorize every expression that crosses it.
He’s losing his grip on his anger, too. You can see the fury in his eyes replace itself with something like reverence as they look into yours, as he crooks his fingers again and swallows your gasp of helpless pleasure like it’s a drug. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. Hold onto me.”
He releases your wrists, and pulls his fingers back so quickly that you nearly sob from the sudden loss. Your arms move to lock around his broad shoulders before you can think, and his hands come down to the backs of your thighs so he can lift you against the wall and kiss you so hard and rough that you forget how to breathe right. His hips rock against yours, and when your nails dig into the warm skin of his back he groans low enough for the sound to vibrate through you.
“Want you.” You murmur, and he moans again as he pulls you back from the door and lowers you onto the bed, still so careful despite his anger.
Once again, your hands move down to tug at his belt, desperate for more of him, and once again, he bats them away.
“Not yet.” He murmurs into the hollow of your throat, trailing searing kisses over your collarbone as he crawls lower. Lower. You whine, arching your back in frustration as your fingers curl against his shoulders in a stubborn attempt to pull him back to you.
“Steve, just-“
He interrupts you with a sharp bite to your hip, hands already working to pull you out of your jeans.
“Do you really think,” his voice is even lower now, dark eyes still burning as he turns them up to you, “that after the shit you pulled tonight, you get to tell me how to fuck you?”
You do your best to glare, even as his words send molten heat through your already burning bloodstream. You can’t find it in yourself to answer, and his satisfied hum only makes you burn hotter. Cocky bastard.
“That’s what I thought.” He murmurs, thumbs hooking in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down as you squirm with a desperation that makes frustration ignite in your core all over again.
He lifts your knee over his shoulder, ducking back down to drag his blunt teeth along the inside of your thigh, and you try so, so hard not to give in. To stay mad at him. To find the words to tell him that he was being overprotective and you had everything under control and just because you’re about to lose your mind with lust and need doesn’t mean you’re done yelling at him.
And then his mouth is on you, hot and skilled and overwhelming, and anything you might have said is cut off by a near-sob of pleasure.
“That’s it.” He murmurs, the words vibrating through you as your fingers tangle helplessly in his hair. “Lemme hear you.”
The way Steve Harrington can take you apart with his mouth should be studied by science. The way you see stars as he writes sonnets into your body with his tongue, the way his fingers join the machinations of his mouth to make you cry out so loudly you’re worried you might wake half the fucking neighborhood. Your thighs threaten to close around his head, and his hand moves up to push your knee back down onto the bed, moaning into you like he’s getting off on this just as much as you are and it’s so fucking hot you might die.
Your high approaches like a fucking freight train, barreling towards you almost alarmingly fast. It’s overwhelming to the point of near-pain, but Steve doesn’t stop. Not for a second. His hand leaves your thigh, sliding up your stomach and your ribs until you’re almost mindlessly clawing at the muscled bicep before you, desperate to anchor yourself to anything solid.
His hand catches your fingers instead, threading them through his own, and when you look down, his eyes are dark and starved and possessive and locked right the fuck onto yours, and you fall over the edge with a scream of his name.
When you come to, still struggling to catch your breath, it’s to your boyfriend climbing up your body like a panther poising to attack, lips brushing over any exposed skin he can reach like he’s trying to inhale you into his very lungs.
“So good. You did so good for me…” he murmurs as he reaches the hollow of your throat, and you can only raise a hand to comb your fingers weakly through his hair. Your grip tightens, however, when you feel his own fingers return to where they were aiding his tongue moments ago, making you gasp and squirm beneath him, still oversensitive.
“S-Steve.” You start, only to be cut off by another sharp gasp as he slips two digits inside of you without so much as a warning.
“Shoulda tied you to the fuckin’ headboard.” He growls, breath warm against the shell of your ear. The words make you arch beneath him, and it takes a lot more focus than you would like to admit for you to smirk.
“Still mad, huh?”
He catches the lobe of your ear between his teeth, and speeds up the movement of his hand until you’re writhing.
And once again, his fingers move and curl inside of you, relentlessly massaging your sweet spot until you’re shaking beneath him.
He kisses you, slow and hungry and deep, and whispers soft praise against your lips until he finally builds you slowly back up to the precipice. Works you open until you’re moaning and gasping shamelessly into his mouth.
Just as you’re about to combust, clinging to him like a lifeline, he pulls back.
“No no no-“ you gasp, mindlessly, and almost reach down between you before his hand flies up to catch yours, pressing it back against the sheets by your head.
“Shhh.” He coos, nuzzling into your cheek with a cocky smirk. “Not so quick to talk back now, are ya?”
“Asshole.” You wish you meant it. He laughs, kissing your cheek, and finally reaches down to tug his jeans over his hips.
He’s big. Almost too big. Even with all of the preparation, all of the time he took to work you open for him, the stretch makes you whimper as he pushes in, slow and careful and shaking with restraint.
“You can take it, baby.” He half-whispers, more than a little breathless himself, and squeezes your hand a little tighter as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. “I’ve got you. My girl. So fucking tight. Made for me, yeah? You were fucking made for me…”
He kisses you again, groaning as he sinks all the way into you, and begins to move in a slow, steady rhythm. Like he’s savoring every thrust. Like he’s taking his sweet time making sure each movement hits the deepest, warmest parts of you.
“S-Steve.” His name leaves your lips in a desperate gasp, and the fingers of the hand not holding your own tighten behind your knee as he pulls it up a little higher around his hip.
“What is it, baby?” He asks, teasing and soft as you writhe beneath him. His lips glide over the line of your jaw, and his next thrust is just a little rougher. A little more intense. It sends a shot of pleasure through you, but it’s not enough. Not nearly. You whimper, the fingers of your free hand digging deep into his bicep as you try to match his movements with your own. Try to create just a little bit more friction.
He tsks at you, holding you still as he presses his lips to yours.
“Mm, always such a firecracker.” He purrs, another slow roll of his hips making you keen. “But you get so sweet like this, don’t you?”
“Steve.” You nearly sob his name now, and he still doesn’t pick up speed, but he does slide his tongue between your lips with a rock of his hips that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“Shh,” he coos again , and you can see the restraint in his shoulders. See how difficult it is to keep his slow rhythm in the way sweat beads on his brow. “Be good, and I’ll give you what you want.”
“Y-you…ngh.” The insult dies on your tongue.
“I what?” He whispers, breath warm against your cheek. His hand tightens in yours, still teasing, and your toes curl as your head falls back against the pillows with frustration. More more more. You need more so badly you can’t think straight. You know he does too. You’re going to kill him. “You know what I wanna hear, sweetheart.”
He wants you to beg. You’re definitely gonna kill him.
“This is…you’re…” words are not your friend, it seems.
He thrusts a little harder, just once, and you whine. “C’mon, be sweet for me.”
“Please.” You nearly sob, and he grins as his free hand comes up to smooth over your hair. “Please, please please.”
“Good girl.” He purrs, and finally starts to speed up. Finally angles himself to hit that spot inside of you that has you moaning into his shoulder. “Was that so hard?”
“Steve.”
And even with the way his fingers tangle in your hair, tilting your head back so he can kiss you so roughly you wonder if your lips might bruise, and the way he snaps his hips so hard against yours you wonder if the headboard is going to dent the wall, his fingers are still tangled in yours by your head. His eyes are still locked on your own, and there’s so much love in his gaze that you think you might drown in it.
You’re drowning in him, and you never want to come up for air.
“I love you.” He whispers, hoarse and hungry and raw. “I love you so much. Doing so good for me. Fuck.” He kisses you again, and you can do nothing but sob out more pleas and broken forms of his name.
You feel like you’re on fire. It’s so good it hurts. You can’t think. You can’t speak. You wonder for a moment if he’s somehow broken your brain, mind almost too empty to even register the sweet words he’s whispering against your skin.
You try to tell him so. Try to express the intensity of what’s building inside of you. The words fail, and you just choke on a whimper of “S’ t-too…”
“I’ve got you.” He kisses your cheek. Your nose. Your lips. “I’ve got you. Let go for me. Wanna feel it.”
And you do. You’re too far gone to even scream anymore, biting down so hard on his shoulder that you’re positive it’s going to leave a bruise and clinging to him with everything you’ve got as your vision goes completely white for the second time tonight.
“So good... Fuck, fuck baby.” His breath is warm against your throat as you slowly fall back to earth. He follows you over the edge, pulling back to press his lips to yours in a surprisingly gentle kiss as he comes apart with a guttural moan of your name.
You’re boneless. Exhausted. Damp with sweat and still trying to remember how to form coherent thought.
Steve seems to be in the same boat, collapsing on top of you and taking a moment to catch his breath. His nose nuzzles into the skin beneath your jaw, hand releasing your leg to slide lovingly up over your waist.
“You okay?” He murmurs, and you can only nod, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders with an exhausted hum.
“Still mad?” You ask, and he finally pulls back to look down at you again, fingers tracing over your still-flushed cheek.
“You can’t do that.” He says, soft and just a little rasped. “You can’t…you have to be more careful. I almost lost you.”
“Well, if that’s how you’re gonna show me that you’re mad-“
“I’m serious.” He turns your face towards him, and his eyes are soft. Vulnerable. The fire and fury from before is gone. “I almost lost you tonight. You almost…” his breath stutters a little, “I can’t lose you. Don’t you get that?”
His thumb smooths over your cheek, like he’s savoring the feeling of your skin, and you can’t blame your exhaustion for the way your heart melts.
“Okay.” You turn your face, kiss the skin of his palm. “Okay, I’m sorry.”
He nods, and leans down to kiss you, slow and sweet and soft.
And as he gathers you into his arms, lips barely leaving your skin for more than a second as he shifts to wiggle you both beneath the covers, you completely forget that you were ever upset with him in the first place. Something about him being overprotective. Or bossy. Or both.
You’ll try to remember that you’re mad in the morning. Or not. Or you’ll just hold him, and remind him how much you love him in the dim light of his bedroom, and wait until you can feel your legs again.
Steve Harrington, the love of your life, drives you absolutely fucking crazy.
Carve your name into my bedpost
'Cause I don't want you like a best friend
Only bought this dress so you could take it off
You and Steve Harrington have been dancing around your feelings for each other for months. You finally decide enough is enough at his birthday party.
pairing: steve harrington x reader
words: 9.5k
contains: (18+ smut!! minors dni) porn with a plot, slight dry humping, fingering, oral (fem receiving), finger sucking, steve is packing, p in v, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweet girl, pretty girl), friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, idiots in love, mutual yearning, men being awful (not steve though!!), humiliation and embarrassment, female reader, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns for reader.
author's note: back at it again with another taylor swift songfic! i've had this one planned for a long time so i was really glad it won the 3k special songfic poll. hope you guys enjoy this one! also the fact i wrote a filthy smut while on my period too? maybe my biggest achievement
to be added to my 18+ taglist | masterlist | requests page
Robin Buckley was losing the will to live.
She didn’t know why she had agreed to go dress shopping with you. Perhaps it was your promise of a greasy hot dog after or perhaps she just wanted to be a good friend. Either way, she wished she hadn’t been so charitable and that she was anywhere in the world that wasn’t the GAP dressing room.
“You know, I think I’m starting to warm to the last dress,” Robin calls out to you through the curtain in the hopes that it would help end the shopping trip. Because after nearly two hours, Robin was beginning to wish she was back in the secret Soviet military base beneath Starcourt being interrogated by evil Russians.
“You said the dress made me look like I was going to church!” You call back, shuffling around in the changing room as you tug off a lime yellow chiffon dress that Robin said made you look like a lemon drop over your head. “I don’t want to look like that!”
Robin is thankful you’re still getting changed behind the curtain so that you don’t see her roll her eyes in exasperation.
“Then what do you want?” Robin asks with an air of impatience. “Because I’m hungry and you promised me hot dogs!”
You sigh and glance at the dresses you still had yet to try on and can’t help but feel a little dejected. Steve’s birthday party was on Saturday and you were struggling to find a dress that felt good enough for the party. If it was anyone else’s party, you would have just worn a nice top and either jeans or a denim skirt. But this was Steve Harrington’s party and you wanted to look good. Really good. Because after months of you and Steve dancing around your feelings for each other, you had finally had enough.
And so, you had come up with a little plan to show up to Steve’s party in a nice dress and hope that he would finally take a hint.
The only problem being—is that you were struggling to find said nice dress. And now you were starting to wonder if it was a stupid plan.
“I don’t know,” you tell Robin miserably, deciding to abandon the dresses you had left to try on in favour of pulling back on your jeans and t-shirt. “I just want something that makes me, you know, stand out to Steve.”
“You always stand out to him,” Robin tells you gently, softening a little at your slightly dejected tone. “But he’s also a guy so he’s also an idiot.”
You laugh a little but your stomach turns a little as you wonder—not for the first time—if Steve really did like you the way everyone told you he did. Robin insisted that Steve liked you, so did Dustin, Max, Lucas and even Nancy. Everyone told you Steve was crazy about you. So why hadn’t he made a move? Why hadn’t he been honest with you about his feelings? What if everyone was wrong? What if he didn’t actually like you and you were making a fool of yourself?
“Are you overthinking again?” Robin asks you when you say nothing.
“No,” you say, the uncertainty in your voice evident as you pull back the curtain to see Robin sitting in the armchair outside of the dressing room. “Maybe? I dunno Robin, I’m starting to doubt the plan.”
Robin sighs, glancing over at the dresses you still had to try on before looking back at you. “You know what I think the problem is?”
“What?”
“I think you’ve been trying to find the wrong type of dress.”
You blink, a little confused by Robin’s words. “What's wrong with the dresses?”
“Nothing! Not really they just—they don’t scream ‘fuck me’, you know?”
“Robin!”
“What?” Robin asks, holding her hands up in surrender. “Do you or do you not want Steve Harrington—christ, I can’t believe I’m saying this—want Steve to fuck you?”
You were aghast, your mouth hanging open in shock at her words. But you don’t deny it because yeah—you did want to him to fuck you.
“I—I um, I mean—”
“—see? You need a ‘fuck me’ dress not a ‘take me to church’ dress,” Robin tells you, stepping into the dressing room to grab the pile of dresses resting on the bench. “Stay right there. I’ll find a dress for you and it’ll make Steve want to fuck your brains out—”
“—Robin!—”
“—kidding! Mostly.”
But the thing is—Robin hadn’t been kidding.
Because the dress she had picked for you was one that didn’t just say ‘fuck me’—it screamed it.
“Are you sure it isn’t too booby?” You ask Robin for perhaps the millionth time as you adjust the strap: of your dress. It was the night of the party and you were getting ready at Robin’s before Steve came to pick you both up and it was only natural that your nervous system was a mess.
“I highly doubt Steve Harrington of all people would think a dress was ‘too booby’,” Robin says with a slight roll of her eyes. “He’ll just see that hint of your cleavage and forget what year it is.”
You smile a little but still, you weren’t entirely convinced. Because now that you were wearing the dress—which was beautiful, the glittering material a mix of black and a deep red that couldn’t help but catch the eye—you were wondering if it was too late to just wear some of Robin’s clothes instead.
But before you could suggest such a thing, the familiar sound of Steve’s car horn came from outside and the words die on your tongue.
“C’mon,” Robin tells you, seeing the slightly panicked look on your face. She gently fixes a piece of stray hair and smiles at you. “You look incredible. Don’t overthink it, okay?”
“Easier said than done,” you mutter as you grab the gift bag with Steve’s present—a watch you knew he had his eye on—in and following Robin out of her bedroom.
You vaguely hear Steve talking animatedly to Robin’s parents in her living room as you make your way down the stairs. Your heart was beating so fast that it felt as though it was attempting to beat its way out of your chest. You felt hot all over, clammy even and you didn’t quite know what to do with your hands because this dress was so far out of your comfort zone that you had the urge to run upstairs and take it off.
As if she had a sixth sense for any thoughts you had of fleeing—Robin grabbed your arm and gave you an encouraging smile when you reached the bottom of the staircase.
“You look great. Stop doubting yourself or I swear to god, I’ll slap you. That four hour shopping trip wasn’t for nothing, you know.”
You blink before a small laugh leaves your lips. “Four hours is an exaggera—”
It was the sound of Steve saying yours and Robin’s name that cuts you off. Your body stills and you turn around and—
Your breath hitches in your throat when you finally see Steve. He looked devastatingly handsome—he always did—but especially in those jeans that hugged his thighs and ass so well that it made your throat feel a little dry. He was also wearing that sage green shirt that you had told him looked nice the other week and you wonder for a moment if he was wearing it for that reason. But before you could think too deeply about it, you finally look at his face and Steve—he was just staring at you, lips parted and seemingly speechless.
Your face feels so hot that you were sure it was noticeable. You could barely hear Robin’s mom gushing about your dress, about how grown up and beautiful you looked because all you could focus on was Steve’s eyes slowly travelling up your body.
It was as though everything else around you had ceased to exist all because Steve Harrington was looking at you.
“Happy Birthday, Steve,” you say finally, your voice higher than usual due to the almost crippling nerves you were feeling.
Steve doesn’t say anything to that and you weren’t sure whether that made you feel better or worse.
“Cleans up well, doesn’t she?” Robin asks Steve with a somewhat smug smile and plainly ignoring the flustered look on your face.
Steve blinks, licking his lips as he tries to formulate a response whilst still looking at you, completely unable to look away.
“I, um—yeah, I mean—she—looks—”
Steve couldn’t string a sentence together and everyone in the room could see it—you, Robin and even her parents.
“She looks—yeah—she looks beautiful.”
Beautiful.
Steve had called you beautiful.
That word now lived somewhere deep in your ribcage and didn’t want to leave.
It was all you could think about as you sat in the passenger seat of Steve’s Beamer. Robin’s voice was almost completely drowned out as you repeated the way he had said it over and over again in your head. The way he had looked at you—
But arriving at Steve’s party felt like a bucket of ice cold water being poured over you.
Because you were painfully overdressed.
And that warmth that the word beautiful had given you almost entirely disappeared.
You felt as though everyone’s eyes were on you, wondering why the fuck you had turned up to Steve’s birthday party in a dress like that. And honestly—you were beginning to wonder the exact same thing.
“C’mon,” Steve says to you and Robin, his hand finding your lower back—just that little bit lower than he usually would—while the other gently pries the gift bag from your hand. “Let’s get you both a drink.”
You let Steve guide you into the kitchen because it was a welcome distraction from the people who were looking at you. Because having one of Steve’s large hands resting on the small of your back meant that you weren’t thinking of anything else.
But he doesn’t keep it there for long, much to your dismay. Steve withdraws his hand as he busies himself with making both you and Robin a vodka cranberry. You don’t even notice how he spills a little bit of the cranberry juice when he chances another glance at you because you were too busy trying to pull down the hem of your dress.
Once Steve had made your drinks, you wasted absolutely no time in taking a generous swig as some sort of liquid confidence.
Steve raises a brow but says nothing.
“I’ll just take this up to my room,” Steve says, holding up your gift bag with a small smile. “Thank you. I’ll open it later when things aren’t so—crazy.”
You nod and force a smile, the uncomfortableness you were beginning to feel seeping into your gut as you watch Steve head upstairs.
“Why the fuck did I do this?” You ask Robin almost as soon as Steve disappears, your knuckles turning wet as you grip the edge of the countertop. “What possessed me to do this, Robin? I look so fucking stupid—”
Robin’s eyes widen as she sees the genuine panic in your eyes—the embarrassment, the worry reflected there. She puts her solo cup down and steps toward you, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“You don’t look stupid, okay? I promise—”
“—everyone else is wearing jeans, Robin. I look so out of place—”
“—so? Did you or did you not see Steve’s reaction to the dress? He nearly crashed into like ten cars on the way here because he kept looking over at you.”
“It wasn’t ten cars—” Your face feels hot as you say it, something tightening in your gut as you remember feeling Steve’s eyes on you in the car, the way Robin had kept yelling at him to keep his eyes on the road.
“—stop deflecting or I will drag you upstairs and lock both you and Steve in his bedroom until you both stop being idiots.”
No matter how much the thought of being locked in a bedroom with Steve Harrington made your core ache with need, you knew it wasn’t the grand declaration of feelings that you had always envisioned for you and Steve.
And so, you try to enjoy yourself despite how uncomfortable you feel. It seems to work—at least for a little while.
You dance with Robin, laugh with a few of Steve’s friends and all the while, you keep catching Steve looking at you. But still—he doesn’t make a move. He doesn’t even ask you to dance when Heaven Is A Place On Earth starts to play like he usually would at a party. You tried not to let doubt creep in, tried not to listen to the small voice in the back of your head telling you that Steve clearly didn’t feel the same. That the months and months of flirting, of lingering touches and almost something moments were simply figments of your imagination. That buying a dress to try and encourage Steve to finally make a move was an act of desperation that Steve—another everyone else around him—pitied.
You were trying not to listen to those voices, instead remembering the way Steve had looked at you, the fact he had called you beautiful and meant it.
But it all came crashing down when you left Steve and Robin to grab yourself a drink.
You still feel eyes on you as you walk into the kitchen. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that you just needed to wait it out until the party died down a little. You just needed to wait until then to—
You don’t register the sound of shouting right away. In fact, you were so in your own head that you barely hear it at all.
But you certainly register the warm, sticky liquid suddenly drenching the front of your dress.
“Oh shit,” the guy who had spilled his beer all over you laughs as embarrassment and humiliation stir so deep in your gut that it makes you feel physically sick. “Sorry about that babe, want me to help you clean up?”
The way his friends laugh loudly at the suggestion makes you suspect that the beer spilling had been anything but accidental and that this guy was anything but sorry.
You try to conjure up a quick, self-assured response. Try to conjure up the nerve to call these guys—who you were sure had just stumbled into the party without invitation—a bunch of assholes. But all you could focus on was trying not to burst into tears as shame, embarrassment and humiliation all swirled sickeningly in your gut. You felt it turn into something so all consuming that for a moment, you couldn’t move—didn’t want to move. All you could hear was the guys’ laughter, the beer that soaked your dress beginning to drip down your thigh and a faint ringing in your ears—
“Hey, hey, what happened here?”
You didn’t think that there would ever be a time that your stomach would turn horribly at the sound of Steve’s voice—at his hand on the small of your back, at the concern in his eyes as he looked at you.
You open your mouth to reply but no words come out—because your eyes became glassy and panic began to rise in your chest.
“Little black dress over here spilled her drink,” one of the guys lie easily to Steve as a smug smile tugs on the corner of his lips.
“That—that’s not what h-happened,” you say finally in a shaky voice. “I-I didn’t spill anything, that guy—”
“—clearly she’s had one too many,” the guy who had spilled his drink over you interrupts. “Should probably take that dress off, sweetheart. You’re pretty wet”
You don’t hear Steve’s pissed off response. In fact, you don’t hear anything at all—just the ringing in your ears as you finally look down at the front of your dress. You see how it was soaked through almost entirely, the wet fabric clinging to your skin and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.
And that was the moment that the dam finally broke.
You don’t think as you push Steve aside, your body in autopilot as you rush out of the kitchen where you collide into Robin. You barely hear her as she asks you what had happened, why your dress was drenched and stank of beer and why you were crying. You don’t say anything, not even glancing her way as you slip into the crowd gathered in the living room, slipping through the mass of bodies before heading up the stairs. Your hands don’t stop shaking until you stumble into Steve’s large, family bathroom.
You slam the door shut behind you as sobs wracked through your body. Hot tears of shame and embarrassment spill down your cheeks as you sink down to the floor. Your back against the freestanding bath as you tug your knees close to your chest to try and find some semblance of comfort. But none came—all that lived inside you was humiliation and shame.
You wondered why you had even bothered. It was so clear to you now—because if Steve hadn’t made a move on you after months of flirting back and forth, months of touches and glances that felt anything but friendly—then maybe you and everyone else around you had been wrong. That sure—maybe Steve was attracted to you but not enough to risk your friendship, not enough to want you the way you wanted him.
You felt so stupid for hoping that he wanted more and you felt even more stupid for coming up with this plan that was dripping with desperation. Everyone at the party could see it—the way you had dressed up specifically for Steve. They also probably saw the way he had kept you at arms length all evening too and the shame returned in a fresh wave of sobs that you couldn’t hold back even if you had tried.
The sound of a gentle knock on the bathroom door makes you look up just in time to see Steve slipping into the bathroom.
You had the urge to yell at him to leave but instead, you let out another small sob before burying your face into your knees.
“Oh, please don’t cry,” Steve soothes you gently, sinking down onto the bathroom floor beside you and placing a cautious hand on your arm, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin. “Please don’t cry because of those assholes.”
You wish you were simply crying because of those assholes and not the mix of emotions you were feeling. The humiliation of the past three minutes, the embarrassment of being the girl so desperate for Steve Harrington’s attention that she wore a dress that she could barely afford and the almost crippling fear that Steve didn’t actually feel the same way, that you had made a fool out of yourself for being so certain that he had.
“It—it’s not j-just ab-about those a-assholes, Steve,” you tell him, hiccuping slightly as you force yourself to look at him. You almost wish you hadn’t because those big hazel eyes of his were looking at you with such kindness and concern that it very nearly split you open.
Steve blinks, brows pulled together in slight confusion as he looks back at you, his other hand finding home on your shoulder and squeezing reassuringly.
“What do you mean? What else is this about?”
You knew you should lie. You knew it wasn’t the time nor the place. It was his birthday party and his bathroom should be the very last place to have this conversation. Not only that but you stank of beer, you were incredibly upset and tethering on the edge of tipsy.
But that was also why you couldn’t stop yourself.
“This stupid f-fucking dr-dress,” you sob out, feeling utterly pathetic as tears keep falling down your cheeks with no sign of stopping.
Steve looks perhaps even more confused, eyes shifting down to your dress and the way the glittering material was almost a second skin, the way he had a clear view down your cleavage and the way the tops of your thighs were exposed. Steve swallows, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before he looks back at your face.
“Why?” He asks you gently. “You look fucking beautiful, even if you’re covered in beer.”
It was supposed to make you laugh, you know it from the way the corners of his lips curl upwards in amusement.
But you don’t laugh, instead you shake your head and let out another loud sob.
“Be-because I-I wore it for you and y-you don’t e-even care,” you stutter out, the words falling from your lips before you could even think about stopping them. “I-I feel s-so stupid and n-now it-it’s ruined and—”
“Wait, wait, wait—” Steve hushes you, his fingertips pressing into skin before one hand lifts to gently cup your jaw. “You—you wore it…for me?”
It was only then that you realised what you had told him, that you realised just how honest you had been. You think briefly about lying right to his face, telling him that you were joking and to forget all about it. But it was Steve’s thumb gently rubbing along your jaw that had you nodding before you could stop yourself.
“Yeah,” you admit quietly with a small sniffle. “To—I-I don’t know, impress you or m-make you s-see me di-differently. I told you—it was stupid—”
“Not stupid,” Steve assures with a gentle smile, another gentle caress of your skin that left you feeling a little lightheaded and your stomach tightening in a way you didn’t want to think about. “You just—you don’t need a dress like that to impress me or for me to see you. I already do.”
You blink, tears sticking to your lashes as you look back at Steve with your lips parted.
“B-but—but you’ve never—”
“—I know,” Steve says quickly, his other hand resting on your knee as he shifts that little bit closer to you. “Trust me, I know. I was—I was waiting for the right moment, I guess. Well, that’s what I told myself anyway because there were so many right moments where I should have told but you didn’t because I was—scared, honestly. Scared that I had just imagined that you liked me back, scared that I wouldn’t do it right and then you’d want nothing to do with me.”
You laugh a little at that because the notion of not wanting anything to do with Steve was so ridiculous that you couldn’t help but laugh.
“That’s almost as stupid as me b-buying a dress just for your attention,” you say with a small smile and a quiet sniffle.
Steve smiles and then his eyes shift back down to your dress and you watch as he swallows, his hand on your knee squeezing gently before he seems to force himself to look back at your face.
“Then we can be stupid together,” Steve murmurs affectionately and the way he says it, you can’t help but smile right along with him. There was a moment where you just look at each other. His big, hazel eyes keep yours hostage before they flit down to glance at your lips for a brief, barely there moment.
Steve clears his throat, looking away as he asks, “you uh, you want me to grab you something to wear while you have a shower so you don’t smell like a brewery all night?”
You nod, looking down at your dress and grimacing before looking back up at Steve with a small, grateful smile. “Please.”
Steve smiles back at you before he gives your knee a little final squeeze before getting to his feet and holding out his hand for you to take.
You try not to think about how his hand feels against yours as he pulls you up to your feet. You notice immediately how Steve doesn’t let go of your hand. Instead, he pulls you just that little bit closer and leans down to whisper in your ear. “The dress is incredible by the way, truly. You look so fucking good. I almost got hard right in the middle of Robin’s living room when I first saw you.”
You hadn’t been expecting it, not at all and the words go straight to your core. A current as strong as electricity flowing through you and making your cunt pulse with need for the man in front of you as he pulls away from you with a slightly smug smile.
“Steve!” You choke out, half laughing, half flustered, your face so hot that you wouldn’t be surprised to find steam rising from your skin.
“What?” Steve asks you with an innocent smile. “You said that you wanted my attention and you certainly got it. Why do you think I’ve tried to keep a respectable distance all night? Because I’m trying my best not to embarrass myself at my own party.”
You try to laugh but you’re too busy trying to not think about Steve and what was hiding beneath those fucking jeans. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t allowed yourself a good look at the crotch of his jeans from time to time. Mostly because the imprint of his cock against the denim was near impossible to ignore.
“Couldn’t be more embarrassing than me showing up to your party in a ‘fuck me’ dress when literally everyone else is dressed normal.”
The words came out before you could really think of what you were saying.
Steve chokes out a laugh, the tips of his ears reddening in a way that gives you a fluttery feeling in your stomach and makes you feel warm inside.
“A ‘fuck me’ dress?” Steve repeats with another quick glance down at the dress, at the way the damp fabric was clinging to your breasts. “Pretty accurate description.”
You swallow thickly and you weren’t sure if you could take anymore of his teasing, your panties were dampening at an alarming rate and your heart was surely beating its way out of your chest.
“Let me grab you those clothes, yeah?” Steve suggests before you could embarrass yourself any further. “And I’ll wash that ‘fuck me’ dress for you too.”
Your face warms but you manage to crack a smile.
“That’s funny,” you mutter as you watch him step away from you, your body still thrumming from the proximity to him. You register the distant sounds of the party on the floor beneath you and guilty twists in your gut. You wanted to tell him you were sorry for pulling him away from his own birthday party, sorry for potentially ruining his evening but Steve slips out of the bathroom before you could do so.
Now that you are alone, you try to comprehend the last ten minutes. But it was proven difficult when your heart was beating so fast, when your hands shook as you tried to unzip your beer soaked dress and when there was an intense ache between your legs that made everything else around you feel fuzzy.
You manage to peel off your dress, letting it pool around you at your feet before you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror—at the dark lace panties you had put on in the hopes that Steve would be the one undressing you. You took those off too in case the beer scent also lingered on them, noticing the way your panties stick momentarily to your puffy lips due to how wet you were and something hot pulses through your body at the sight of your slick coating your panties.
A sharp knock on the bathroom door pulls you back into reality.
“You decent?” Steve calls to you through the door as you scramble to find a towel to cover yourself with.
“Yep!” You shout back after wrapping the towel around your bare body, kicking your soaked panties beneath the vanity unit as the bathroom door opens.
Steve walks in with a small pile of clothes in arms but he very nearly drops them at the sight of you wrapped in one of his soft cotton towels.
You watch as for the second time that night, his eyes travel up and down the length of your body, his lips parted and wet as he looks as though he wanted nothing more than to gently tug the towel from your body. There was a large part of you that would have gladly let him do so.
“Here,” Steve finally says, placing the clothes onto the countertop and forcing his eyes to remain on your face. “I got you a t-shirt and those shorts you left here the other week.”
“Thank you,” you say with a small, grateful smile. You can’t help but notice the way Steve’s cheeks had turned red and you find your own face warming.
Steve clears his throat, eyes flickering away from you to your dress and your bra laying on the tiled floor. “I’ll um, wash these in the basement,” Steve tells you, bending down to pick up the discarded clothes and determinedly not looking at your legs as he does so.
You nod, feeling too breathless, too aroused to even form a thought as you watch Steve’s knuckles turn white when he grips the fabric of your dress tightly in his hands.
You look at each other again, Steve looking at you in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to do before he clenches his jaw and he turns to leave.
You nearly stop him. You nearly reach out to grab his arm so he wouldn’t leave you, nearly call out his name and ask him to stay. But you don’t—instead you watch him leave the bathroom with your clothes and you let the ache he leaves behind fill you.
You take your time in the shower, lathering the vanillary body wash that smelt like Steve over you and as the smell of beer washes down the drain. Your muscles relax beneath the hot water and you have to ignore the urge to let your fingers trail between your legs to ease the ache there.
You step out of the shower, water dripping from your body before you glance over at the clothes Steve had brought you. You feel that warmth in your stomach heat up when you imagine yourself wearing Steve’s t-shirt. When you eventually do pull it on over your head after gently drying your body, you’re hit with the smell of him that seems to linger on the material.
It made you feel dizzy with want, the tension that had been building between you and Steve all evening not lessening even in Steve’s absence.
You retrieve your soaked panties from beneath the vanity unit and pull them on, along with your shorts before stepping out of the bathroom.
The party downstairs continues and you find that there wasn’t a part of you that wanted to go and rejoin the party. And so, you head towards Steve’s bedroom, figuring you could just wait out the rest of the party in there.
But as you push open Steve’s bedroom door, you’re greeted by a truly heavenly sight.
Steve was standing near the end of his bed, in the middle of peeling off his shirt. You got a glimpse of his soft stomach, of his happy trail that kept you up at night, of various moles and freckles that were scattered over his skin and—finally the sight of the dark, coarse hair that covered his chest. He was fucking beautiful and you barely register him turning around to look at you.
“Hi,” he says by way of greeting, making zero attempt to cover up but you notice the way his cheeks flush slightly pink.
“Hey,” you say, hating how breathless you already sound.
Steve’s eyes shift down your body again, his gaze washing you in a rush of heat and want that you couldn’t control. You see the way his eyes linger for a moment too long on your hardened nipples that could be seen through the fabric of his t-shirt and you watch as he licks his lips slowly before looking back at your face.
“Good shower?”
You laugh because the tension between you was palpable. You could see the way Steve was trying to be normal and the way he was failing miserably.
“Great shower,” you tell him. “Incredible water pressure.”
Steve snorts lightly with laughter and you take a tentative step closer to him, closing his bedroom door behind you while your heart pounds in your chest.
“Robin kicked those guys out by the way,” he tells you, watching you carefully as you move towards him. “I would have done it but I needed to see if you were okay.”
You smile a little, pausing a foot away from him. “Glad you did.”
“Me too,” Steve says softly. “Made me realise how much of an idiot with the whole—you know, been waiting for the perfect moment to be honest with you when I should have just—I should have just told you.”
Your breath hitches, your eyes flickering over his face so that you didn’t miss a single facial expression. “Told me what?” You ask quietly.
Steve takes a deep breath before he closes the distance between you, lifting both of his large hands to cup your jaw gently between his palms, holding you like you were made of something more precious than gold.
“Told you that—that you’re not only my best friend but you’re my favourite person in the world. The one who I can’t go a day without seeing smile or hearing you laugh. The person who thinks I’m funny when I’m clearly not and the one who seems to know exactly what to say when things get too loud. The one who doesn’t just make me want to be a better man but the person who makes me a better man. The one who has seen my best times and my worst times and still—still sees the best in me even when I don’t. The person who I—who I love. Who I love whether you’re wearing a ‘fuck me’ dress or one of my old t-shirts. The person who I really hope isn’t too mad at me for making you wait while I tried to find a perfect moment.”
You were rendered speechless, words completely failing you as you stare back at Steve with wide eyes, trying to process every word he had just said.
“Was that too much or—”
You don’t let Steve finish his sentence because you decide that you couldn’t wait even a second longer. Because he loved you. He loved you, he loved you, he loved you—
“I love you too,” you tell him breathlessly as your hands plant themselves on his chest before you lean in and finally press your lips against his.
For a moment, Steve does nothing at all. He seems to freeze entirely, his brain short circuiting at the fact you were kissing him. But as your fingers gently brush through the hair that covered his chest, he seemed to finally come to his senses.
Steve groaned—actually groaned—against your lips as one of the hands still cupping your jaw gently threaded into your hair, his fingers curling at the back of your neck as he kisses you back with a sense of urgency he couldn’t seem to control.
The kiss was messy, spit-slick and desparate—months and months of tension finally snapping as Steve used his other hand to tug you closer by your waist, his mouth still moving against yours as though he wouldn’t ever be able to get enough.
Neither of you pulled away—the kiss moving from messy to slow and reverent, your lips gliding wetly against each other in a way that had your pussy throbbing. A small whimper escapes you before you could stop it because your body was thrumming with want.
Steve pulls away only to whisper your name before he dives back in. His hand in your hair titling your head back so that he could deepen the kiss, his tongue gently coaxing your lips apart in a way that had your stomach tightening deliciously as he licks into the wet heat of your mouth.
“Fuck,” Steve murmurs against your lips as his hand in your hair finds home on your waist. The other moves to rest on your hips where Steve squeezes the flesh before tugging you closer until you are flush against him.
You gasp against his lips when you feel just how fucking hard he was through the denim of his jeans and any intelligent thought left you as you moaned against his mouth.
“Shit, baby,” Steve practically whimpers as he pulls away to press a trail of wet kisses down your neck. “You’ve fucking ruining me already.”
You let out a breathless laugh that turns into a moan, your head tilting back as Steve’s tongue glides over the skin of your neck, still a little damp from the shower.
“Did you use my body wash, pretty girl?” Steve whispers against your skin, his hands sliding down to grip the globes of your ass and failing to suppress a groan. “Cause I can smell it on you.”
“Maybe,” you gasp out, your chest heaving as your eyelids flutter shut at Steve’s touch.
Steve hums against your skin before gently sucking on a spot on your neck that had you squirming against him.
“So fucking sensitive,” he murmurs, squeezing your ass again before one hand moves to the hem of his t-shirt that you were wearing—fingers just brushing the skin beneath in a silent question.
You lift your arms in response and Steve waits no time in peeling off the t-shirt.
But the moment he sees the sight of your bare breasts, all bravado he had possessed moments ago seems to leave him.
“Holy fuck—” he breathes out, his own chest heaving as his eyes feast on you. “You’re so—fuck—I can’t believe we’re finally doing this. We’re finally—holy shit—”
“—Steve,” you interrupt him with a faint smile and a finger over his lips. “It’s just me.”
Steve smiles back at you, pressing a kiss to your finger before you pull it away from him. “That’s exactly why this is—why I’m losing my shit right now I mean—fuck, look at you.”
The words go straight through your body like molten lava and you have to squeeze your thighs together to try and ease the tension between your legs.
And Steve—he fucking notices.
“Fuck it—”
Steve’s lips were back on yours and you could barely think straight as the kiss became almost frantic, his hands roaming your body greedily as he sank down onto the bed, pulling you down with him. His hands find your hips before he tugs you down onto his lap, your thighs bracketing his as you straddle him.
The position presses your clothed core against the bulge in his jeans and neither of you could suppress a moan at the contact.
“Please,” Steve asks, eyes half lidded and glazed over with want as he looks up at you. “Please, pretty girl. I need—”
You knew what he needed without him even needing to finish his sentence. You press yourself more firmly against his bulge and you swear you could feel every hard ridge of him through his jeans. The friction was dizzying and you could barely stop yourself from rolling your hips against him. Steve lets out a whimper, fingers squeezing the flesh of your hips before his lips find yours again.
The kiss was messy, little wet sounds filling the space between you as Steve’s hips bucked up instinctively, grinding his hard cock against your core. You were embarrassingly wet at this point as Steve encouraged the movement of your hips with his hands, the wet patch in your panties seeping through your shorts. You were almost sure that Steve could practically smell how aroused you were at this point, but you found that you didn’t care.
You could have come from the friction alone, but both you and Steve knew that wasn’t what you wanted.
“Steve,” you gasp, heat burning through your body as you look down at him. “Touch me, please.”
Who was he to deny you such a request?
You let out a small squeal as Steve wraps his arms around your waist, standing up for a brief moment before he lowers you back down onto his bed.
“Anything for you, baby,” Steve tells you before he tugs both your shorts and your panties down your legs.
“Fuck, baby—”
It was the only intelligent thing Steve could think to say when you were finally laid bare for him. You look back at him and you find that there wasn’t a part of you that felt nervous or self conscious with the confidence his gaze gave you. In fact, you found your thighs widening instinctively as he could see the mess he had caused between your legs—the way your folds were coated with arousal, slick dripping down onto his bedsheets beneath you and how swollen and desperate for attention your clit was.
“—you’re fucking beautiful,” Steve finally tells you as his fingers brush over the skin of your inner thigh, watching in awe as goosebumps erupt over the skin at his touch. “S’fucking beautiful. I could fucking cum just by looking at you, pretty girl.”
Your cunt pulses with need and you swear you see Steve’s cock twitch beneath his jeans.
“But I’m gonna take care of you first, yeah?” Steve murmurs, his fingers ghosting over the skin of your thighs before they glide through your wetness.
That first, direct touch of his fingertips against your slick folds made you whimper from relief.
“S’fucking wet,” Steve murmurs, his lips parting as his eyes filt down to watch how your wetness now coats his fingers. “Drenched for me already, aren’t you sweet girl?”
You nod frantically, eyes squeezing shut as two of Steve’s thick fingers glide through your slick, gathering it and then smearing it over your clit in a circular motion that had your back bowing off his mattress.
“I got you, baby,” Steve murmurs and you jolt as you suddenly feel his breath hot against your inner thigh. “Don’t worry, baby. I got you.”
You nod, parting your lips as you begin to take a deep breath—but you are cut off by your own, loud moan as he dips one thick finger inside of you.
“That’s it,” Steve murmurs, pressing another kiss to your inner thigh as he begins to pump his finger in and out of you, watching every trace of pleasure flit across your face as he adds a second finger. “That’s it, pretty girl. Look at you, soaking my fingers so well.”
You were a mess already and he had barely even begun. You were so fucking wet that the pump of his fingers in and out of your soaked pussy were causing a schlick-schlick-schlick sound to fill the room, mixing with your moans as liquid heat coursed throughout your entire body.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty like this,” Steve tells you, curling his fingers against your front wall as he watched you in utter awe. “S’fucking pretty, baby. I swear.”
Your fingers curled into the sheets beneath you, a pleasure so intense coursing through your body that you were surely soon to forget your own damn name. Your slick was dripping down his wrist, onto his sheets and Steve couldn’t help but breathe in your heady scent, his nose nudging against your clit as he did so.
“Fucking hell,” he groans out, scissoring his fingers gently inside of you. “Sweet girl, you smell so fucking good. I need to taste you, I need to—”
He doesn’t finish his sentence because one buck upwards of your hips and Steve finally takes the hint. His lips seal themselves over your aching clit while he continues to fuck two of his fingers into your needy hole. And the moan he lets out at that very first taste of you? It was divine.
Steve Harrington wasted no time in giving you exactly what he knew you needed. His lips began to suck your clit gently, his thick fingers continuing to fuck you even as your one of your hands found its way into his hair and tugged at it harshly. If anything, the mix of pain and pleasure spurred Steve on, his fingers curling inside of you again as he started to alternate between giving soft licks to your clit and sucking it between his lips.
It was almost overwhelming, the deep penetration on his fingers and stimulation on your clit was making pleasure build up so intensely you were close to tears.
“C’mon, baby,” Steve murmurs against yours, his own hips rutting against the mattress but his focus remains on you and your pleasure and nothing else. “I got you. I got you.”
Your thighs tremble around his head, your head thrown back against his mattress as you let out a moan so loud that the partygoers downstairs were sure to hear it. Your orgasm was so intense that your entire body seemed to be overtaken by a white hot pleasure that you felt in every damn nerve, your vision whiting out briefly all because Steve Harrington sent you to another universe with his fingers and tongue.
He doesn’t let up, only withdrawing his fingers so he could replace them with his tongue, slurping up every last drop of your arousal and groaning against you as he does so.
You were still shaking, still sensitive and still coming down from the most intense orgasm that a man had ever given you and yet—there wasn’t a part of you that wanted to stop.
The fingers that were still in his hair gently tug him away from your cunt that was dripping with a mix of his saliva and your essence. He groans as you pull him away, eyes half lidded with need as he looks at you. Steve’s lips are swollen, wet and he had never looked so fucking handsome.
“That was—”
You silence him by grabbing his fingers—the ones that had just been inside of you, the ones still glistening with your slick—and raise them to your lips. Steve realises what you were about to do a millisecond before it happens and he could not contain the groan that leaves his lips as you take his fingers into your mouth and suck.
Steve had surely died and gone to heaven. That could be the only explanation as he watches you lick his fingers clean, your eyes not leaving his for even a second until you release them with a wet pop.
“Take your jeans off and fuck me, Harrington,” you tell him.
Steve Harrington did not need telling twice. In his haste to peel off his jeans, he stumbles but manages to catch himself at the edge of the bed.
He turns around when he hears you stifle a laugh.
“Don’t you dare laugh at me, baby,” Steve tells you with flushed cheeks. “That was completely purposeful.”
But you don’t respond, because you were too busy staring at the outline of his hard cock through his boxers. Even though the dark material, you could see how fucking big he was and it made your mouth water.
Steve notices—because of course he was—and he wastes no time in pulling down his boxers to free his cock.
“Oh my—”
You had heard rumours before that Steve was big, that his size sometimes intimated the women he had slept with in the past. But nothing could have prepared you for just how big and how beautiful his cock was. It was so big and heavy that it made a loud, audible slapping sound against his soft stomach as he freed himself. It wasn’t just long but it was thick and slightly curved in a way that made your cunt clench around nothing. The ruddy tip was glistening and already leaking with precum and you watch as a dribble of it slips over his veiny shaft.
Steve, seemingly taking you openly staring at his cock as worry, hesitates before joining you back on the bed, bracing his body over yours with his elbows as he looks carefully at your face. “We can do just the tip if you—”
“—what?” You ask him, slightly confused as you look back up at him, your hands gently rest on his shoulders. “No, no, no—I want all of you, Steve. I was just…looking.”
Steve blinks, his cheeks reddening before he smiles down at you. “Impressed?”
You smile and your heart feels warm at the way, even now, Steve was able to make you laugh. Because no matter how much your relationship had changed over the past twenty minutes and how much it would change after, the foundation of your friendship would always remain standing. That Steve loved and respected you as a person first, that he always would and that intimacy wouldn’t change that.
“Depends if you know what to do with it,” you tell him with a teasing smile.
Steve rolls his eyes a little but you see the way the corners of his mouth twitch as he tries not to smile.
“We’ll see about that,” Steve murmurs, wrapping a hand around his length and stroking himself once before he guides the bulbous head of his cock to your entrance. “You sure?” He asks, despite the fact he was so hard that it was nearly painful, despite the fact his dick was pulsing in his hand from need—he needed one last bit of reassurance that he wouldn’t be too much for you.
You nod, your eyes softening as you look up at him, one of your hands lifting to cup his cheek gently. Steve leans into your touch instinctively and the way he sought out your touch makes you feel almost invincible.
“I’m sure,” you whisper back. “I trust you, I love you and I’m sure.”
Steve’s resolve seemed to crumble at that, his eyes shining as he tells you, “I love you too.”
His lips found yours in a kiss that was surprisingly soft given the position you were in, given what you were about to do. You melt into it, your fingers gliding into his hair as Steve groans against your lips, carefully positioning himself back at your entrance. Your legs widen to accommodate him as you continue to kiss him as though he was your only source of oxygen. Steve’s brows are furrowed as he kisses you back, making sure to go slow as he finally—finally—pushes the fat head of his cock inside of you, slipping into your tight heat inch by inch.
The stretch was overwhelming—it almost felt as though he was splitting you open with his cock but fuck, it was incredible. You couldn’t pull but pull away from Steve’s lips so that you could look at where look your bodies were now joined, the way you were stretched obscenely around him.
“You okay?” Steve asks when he was almost buried to the hilt, his eyes not leaving your face as he searches for even a hint of pain. “Baby, please say you’re—”
“—I’m good,” you say breathlessly, your eyes flickering upwards to meet his. “Really, Steve. I’m good.”
Steve nods and then swallows before he presses forward, until his hips are flush against yours and you feel the tip of his cock hit your cervix.
“Fuuuccck,” Steve exhales, pressing his forehead against yours as the arm that was propping himself over you shakes with the effort of holding himself back. “You feel—fuck—you feel incredible. I swear, you were made for my cock, sweet girl.”
The words make you feel warm and your cunt flutters around his cock, making Steve groan out. You hook one of your legs over his hip and arch your back, trying to encourage him to move.
“Steve, please.”
It was exactly the encouragement he needed. With a groan of your name and sweet kiss to your forehead, Steve starts to move. He moves his hips back until only the bulbous tip of his cock remains inside of you before he pushes himself back home, setting a deep rhythm that has your nails biting into the skin of his shoulders.
The wet sounds from the mix of your juices quickly fill the room, along with both yours and Steve’s moans as Steve grabs your other thigh to hook it over hip. You whimper out his name as his cock nuzzles against your cervix and Steve couldn’t help himself anymore. He pulls out almost entirely before slamming back into you. And again. And again and again and again until his cock was continuously slamming in and out of you, the sound of skin slapping against skin so obscene it made your head spin.
“Fuck, Steve!” You mewl, your breasts bouncing with every deep thrust of Steve’s cock. “You feel so—”
“—I know, baby. I know,” Steve grunts as his balls slap against your skin from the force of his thrusts. “You trust me, yeah?”
You nod frantically, pleasure coursing through every damn nerve in your body as Steve shifts his position. You whimper out in protest before you watch as he gently lifts your thighs to rest over his shoulders.
“Feel good?” Steve asks as he leans over you, his cock now hitting so deep inside of you that you swear you saw stars.
You nod because no words could come out as you felt him in every damn pore in your body. Your body buzzes with anticipation as you expect him to move, but he doesn’t. Not yet.
“Words, pretty girl,” he tells you, two fingers gently gripping your chin. “I need words.”
You whimper out because you were throbbing with need and could barely think straight, let alone form a sentence.
“Steve, please—”
“Baby, no,” Steve murmurs, dipping his head down to brush his lips across your cheek. “Need you to feel me if it’s good. C’mon, sweet girl.”
“Yes,” you manage to gasp. “I feel—I feel really good.”
“Good,” Steve smiles before he rolls his hips forward. The tip of his cock hits that spot inside of you that had you squirming beneath him, clenching around him so hard that Steve’s fingers grips into the flesh of your thigh before he pulls out of you just to slam back in all over again.
“I love you,” Steve tells you as he sets a rhythm that has your toes curling. “I love you so fucking much, baby. I’m so fucking lucky.”
He was babbling nonsense as his cock drilled into you like it was the last time, not the first. You were a mess of moans and whimpers beneath him, your sobbing cunt convulsing around him with each and every thrust. You could hardly think straight because nothing existed beside Steve and the way his cock was pumping in and out of you.
“You look so fucking beautiful,” Steve tells you, eyes heavy from the intense pleasure he was feeling, from the effort of holding back his own release so it wasn’t over before you finished. “Taking my cock so well, baby. Look at you fucking taking it.”
And you do—your eyes shifting down to watch as Steve’s thick cock disappears inside of you, watch the way you suck him back in like you never wanted him to leave.
It was almost too much, every part of your body was singing with pleasure and all you could moan out was Steve’s name and the fact you loved him and—
Your second orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. It was somehow more intense than the first, nearly earth shattering in the way it left you clinging to Steve as though he was the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth. You clenched tightly around his cock and it was all Steve needed, his release following yours only seconds later. He slams into you a final time and you swear you feel his heavy cock pulsing inside of you before he comes hard. Ropes of thick, hot cum flood your spent pussy, painting your walls with his release as your name fell from his lips like it was the only word he knew.
He doesn’t pull out right away and you don’t want him to, instead—your lips find each other's and the kiss was sweet and tender and everything you had ever wanted and more.
Steve eventually pulls out of you after a few moments to clean the mess between your legs with his boxers. You were tender but he was so gentle and loving that it made your heart thump loud in your chest.
When he returns to the bed, his arms wrap themselves around you and you waste no time in melting into him, the party downstairs entirely forgotten as you lay in Steve’s arms.
“I take it we’re a little more than best friends now?” He asks you quietly with a trace of amusement in his voice.
“I think we’ve always been more than best friends, Steve.”
Steve smiles at that before pressing a gentle but firm to your forehead because you were right—you had always been more than best friends and you always would be.
You're posting another pic in clothes that I know are his
Well, here's a map of the lines I drew
And some girl steps over and the girl is you
words: 1.6k || masterlist
warnings: jealousy, pure fluff, hurt/comfort.
Steve was nervous. Maybe not nervous, but anxious. Eddie’s birthday was tonight.
Why is that a problem? You may ask. Let’s back up.
Steve and you started dating recently. You’ve been in an official and exclusive relationship for a couple of months now.
But there was one tiny detail. See, Steve used to date this girl, Stacy, who’s good friends with Eddie right before he started dating you. So she’ll probably be there tonight. It’s not a huge problem, but he still wanted to let you know in order to not hide anything.
“Why are you so fidgety?” you ask him.
“I’m not fidgety.” he says quickly. “But I do need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“Stacy’s gonna be there.” he lets out.
“Okay… Who’s Stacy?”
“Uh, she’s the girl I was seeing before I started dating you.”
“You’re kidding, right?” you chuckle dryly.
“What?”
“So, Eddie’s birthday is basically becoming a reunion of your girlfriends.”
“What do you mean?” he frowns.
“Well, we’ve got me: the current girlfriend. Then, Nancy: your ex-girlfriend. And Now Stacy! Some fling you had before me.” you list sarcastically.
“Nancy is literally one of our best friends.”
“Yeah, I know-”
“And Stacy is Eddie’s friend.”
“But how many girls have you dated, Steve?”
He freezes. Was this a trick question? “What?”
“Half of Hawkins? Did everyone get a turn?” you continue with the sarcastic tone.
“What are you saying? That I’m some kind of… slut?!”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’re implying it.”
“I just don’t love constantly meeting girls who have a history with you.”
“You know I don’t care about them, right?”
“I know.”
“No, I mean it.” he steps closer. “Babe, I’m with you. I don’t care if Nancy, or Stacy, or whoever is there tonight too. I just want to hold your hand and then take you home.”
“Okay.” that softens you, you give him a smile. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re allowed to be uncomfortable.”
“Fine, I’ll survive Stacy.”
“Thank you.”
“But if she says anything like ‘Steve used to do this thing when we dated’... I’m leaving.” you warn him.
“You’re not leaving.” he laughs.
“Watch me.”
He grins. “Come on, trouble.”
But little did you know she’d do something way worse than that…
When you got to the bar it was all fun and games, until she walked in.
Steve didn't notice her at first. But you caught her immediately.
She walked in, pretty, confident, and wearing something very familiar. A blue polo shirt that looked a little big on her.
And by the way Steve chokes on his drink when he sees her in that? You confirm it… it was his.
“Honey-” he starts.
“Is that your shirt?” you interrupt.
“...Yeah.” he looks down.
“She keeps your clothes.” you nod, trying to gain some patience.
But she sees you, and she’s walking over, smiling, like nothing’s wrong.
“Hey, Steve!” she greets him with a big smile. “Oh my god, It’s been forever!”
“Hey, Stacy.” he gives her a polite smile.
“Oh, and you must be the Mrs. Harrington.” she addresses you, trying to be cute and funny. Like she’s not wearing your boyfriend’s fucking shirt right in front of you.
“Yeah.” you simply say.
“Wow, you two are cute.” she comments. “And I love what you’re wearing!” she tells you.
Your jaw tightens. Steve notices.
“Stacy, uh…” he looks at her. “Is that mine?”
She looks down, like she was just noticing. “Oh my god! I forgot it was yours! I just grabbed the first thing I saw.” she laughs.
“You just found it…” he asks, incredulously.
“Yeah, how funny is that?” she just laughs and walks over to the bar.
Your eyes stay on her. You were really trying to convince yourself you were not gonna be that girlfriend. You were not gonna get jealous, or let Steve’s past bother you. But she’s stepping over the line.
“Tell me you’re seeing this.” you tell Steve.
“I am seeing this.”
“She’s doing this on purpose.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?!”
“Okay, probably.”
“Steve-”
“But, I don’t care. And you shouldn’t either. She’s being petty.”
“She knows you’re with me.” like obviously. “And she wore it on purpose. Aren’t you mad?”
“At her? A little.” he shrugs. “But mostly because she made my girlfriend upset.”
You don’t say anything else. You just look at him, serious face, clearly upset.
“Come on, baby. Don’t give her what she wants, just ignore her.” he takes your hand. “I love you.”
“...Okay.”
“There she is.” he smiles at you and kisses your forehead.
For about twenty minutes, Steve thought he had fixed it.
Until Dustin noticed too.
“Dude, does Stacy have one of your shirts?” he asks. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together for him. Stacy’s wearing a big polo shirt + Steve loves polo shirts + Stacy and Steve used to date = that’s his shirt!
You stop listening to Eddie’s story.
“It’s nothing, dude. Not important.” Steve tries to dismiss it.
“What? I’m just asking. You never let me have your shirts-” Dustin starts complaining.
“Oh, that’s because you never dated him.” you step in. “If you want his clothes you just have to go on a date with him apparently!”
“No, no, no. Babe-”
Dustin looks between you. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Steve throws him a bad look.
“Sorry.” Dustin tries to smile and soften the moment. “I’m- I’m gonna go now.”
“Honey, it’s just a stupid shirt.” he explains again.
“It’s not just about the shirt. It’sfucking weird, Steve!”
“I know, I know.”
But Steve was beginning to regret thinking the situation was over. Because even his friends started to notice.
More and more.
Robin walks over and drops on an empty chair beside you.
“Steve, don’t you have a shirt just like that one?” she asks.
“Robin, don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“No more questions.”
“That’s your solution?” you step in, looking at him.
“That’s yours!” Robin tells him in case he didn’t know.
“Yeah! It is! Go ahead, tell her.” you snap. “They used to date for like a month before me, and now she’s trying to… I’m not sure. Make me jealous? Seduce him?”
“And what? She just kept one of your shirts?” Robin frowns.
“Apparently.” you say.
“That’s crazy.”
“Or we can just ignore her and she loses.” Steve comments.
“No, but still. She found an old shirt from the guy she used to see, knew he had a girlfriend now, and decided to wear it either way.” you list.
“She has a point.” Robin agrees.
“I don’t think we should start anything.” he says.
“She’s making a statement.” Robin says.
“Do not encourage this.” he leans closer to you. “Hey.”
You just look at him.
“I know you’re mad.”
“I’m annoyed.”
“But you know I’m not looking at her, right?”
“I know.” your expression changes.
“And you know I’m here because I want to be with you.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t let her get this much space in your head.” he keeps thinking about it. “Do you want me to talk to her?”
“What?”
“I can just tell her. Make it clear that I'm not interested, that I'm happy with you, and that whatever she thinks she's doing isn't going to work.”
You shake your head. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” you sigh. “Because she wins. If you go over there because of this, then she gets exactly what she wanted.”
“She just wanted to annoy you.” he whispers.
“Exactly.” you say. “I know it’s stupid.”
“It’s not.” he kisses your cheek.
“I hate that she makes me feel like this.”
“You know she doesn’t get anything, right? She wanted a reaction but you didn’t give her one.” he explains, but since you don’t respond, he talks again. “I don't care about the shirt. I don't care that she kept it. I don't care about a girl I dated for a few weeks before I even knew what I wanted.”
That makes you smile a little. “You’re cute.”
“You know what we can do?” he states, giddy. “I’ll just have to be extra clingy with you so she takes the hint.”
You start laughing.
But the rest of the night moves like this. Not a big statement, he just stayed close.
If you moved to get a drink, his hand would find yours before you even walked away.
If you’re standing with the group, his arm would settle around you.
He didn’t want to be performative, he was just being Steve.
“You okay?” he checks.
You nod. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
“You know, you don’t have to make sure everyone knows.”
“I’m not. I’m holding your hand because I like holding your hand.” he hugs you. “And I love being all over you.”
You laugh at that.
“You’re actually having fun again.” he whispers in your ear.
“You’re making it sound like I was some sad little puppy ten minutes ago.” you smile.
“I was going to say grumpy.” he says and you shove him playfully, but he pulls you closer again.
You hated that there was a whole other version of Steve before you had been there for it. But it’s easy to get out of your own intrusive thoughts when he looks at you like that.
You may have not had him before. But he does a great job reminding you he’s here to stay.
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Warnings: 18+, FWB to..?, stuck in an elevator trope, feelings talk, making out, heavy petting, grinding, unfinished business ;)
A/N: This one is so special to me. It came to me suddenly, and I had to stop what I was doing to write it. Let me know if you guys like it. I want to keep writing--thinking about making a masterlist soon. Enjoy!!! xoxo
“I don’t trust this thing,” Steve huffs, the crumpled box in his arms wavering as he presses the elevator button. “You know how I feel about elevators.”
“Yes, I know. But it’s faster, and we have to bring this whole stack down.” You gesture to the pile of boxes filled with various old tapes.
Old tapes don’t sell enough to keep on the shelves, so they have to go downstairs until the end-of-year sale. You and Steve have been tasked with the job of transporting the tapes to the glorious, cobweb-filled basement while Robin runs the counter.
Together, you heave the boxes into the elevator one by one. When Steve lifts the last box, you catch the way his biceps flex, a concentrated look plastered on his face.
The last time you saw that face was when he had you pinned against his bed, whining under him. Just thinking about it turns you on.
“C’mon.” He motions for you to step in, snapping you out of your trance.
“Sorry,” you murmur. “Distracted.”
His lips turn up in a smug expression as he pushes the button for the basement.
The doors close slowly, a dramatic creak echoing as you stand there in silence.
When the doors finally shut and the elevator rumbles to a start, he turns to you. “Thinking about last night?”
“No,” you respond quickly. “Don’t flirt with me. I told you–”
“Yeah, yeah. Last night was the last time. You say that every time. What’s so wrong about us hooking up, anyway?”
You don’t have a chance to answer his question. The elevator comes to a stop abruptly, thudding against the cables. The yellow light flickers and dies before your eyes, leaving the two of you in complete darkness and silence as the hum of the elevator stops.
“We must’ve lost power.” You break the silence but get no response from Steve. “Steve? Are you okay?” You reach out for him blindly, making contact with his shoulder.
“Yeah, I- I’m fine. Totally chill with… this.” He manages, but his voice is an octave higher than usual.
“It’s okay. We’re probably only a few feet from the ground, anyway. Robin will reset the breaker, and we’ll be fine.” You assure, giving his shoulder a squeeze.
He nods, then realizes you can’t see him. “I’m nodding.”
You smile. “Okay. C’mere.” You slide your hand down his arm, grabbing his hand to pull him closer.
He settles against you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Y’so confusing,” he murmurs into your hair.
Your stomach twists with guilt. “I know. I’m sorry.” You lay your cheek against his chest. “It’s not that I don’t wanna keep sleeping with you. I do. It’s just…” You can’t finish the sentence.
“Is it not good?”
“No! It’s good. Really good. Too good. I don’t know.” You sigh. “When we first hooked up, we established that it was just that. Hooking up, no strings attached.”
“Yeah..?”
“Well, I can’t do that anymore. It’s… more for me, now. Strings are attached.” You clear your throat. “I’m sorry.”
You expect him to pull away from you, to push you away, even. Instead, you feel his hand roam up your side and cup your jaw.
He whispers your name. “What if I told you… that I’ve had strings attached for months? Since you first started working here.”
“Really? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I thought you wouldn’t want to be with me,” he responds quickly, showing you how much he’s thought about this. “Thought you just wanted to fuck.”
“That’s not what I want.” You angle your head up toward him, fingers threading into the hair on the back of his head.
You pull each other in, lips finding one another’s despite the darkness. The kiss is soft and sweet, in contrast with the hungry way he usually kisses you.
He kisses you again, deeper this time, then pulls away just enough to whisper against your lips. “Good. Because I want more.”
He kisses your forehead, your cheek, your nose, murmuring sweet nothings before each kiss.
“Wanna take you out to dinner.”
“Wanna hold your hand when we’re with our friends.”
“Want you to be my girl.”
You melt into him, grabbing the collar of his polo and parting your lips to let him in.
He backs you up against the stack of boxes, sliding his tongue against yours. The elevator is hot and dark and musty, but you need him closer.
He lifts your leg, pulling it against his hip and pressing himself against you. You moan softly into his mouth when he grabs your ass and grinds into you.
Suddenly, the light flickers back on as the elevator hums to life. You and Steve let out a collective groan, wishing Robin had taken a little longer to fix the breaker.
You pull away to look at each other. Your face is flushed, and Steve’s hair sticks up fourteen different ways. He beams at you.
You and Steve Harrington have been trying to keep your relationship secret. But it turns out, Lucas Sinclair can't keep his mouth shut.
pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader
words: 2.7k
contains: fluff, establish relationship, secret relationship, pet names (baby), female reader, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns for reader.
author's note: request by @softstaticclub | this was yet another one that was meant to be a blurb but i wrote too much. i think i have a problem
taglist | masterlist | 3k special masterlist | requests page
“Steve, what if someone comes down the—”
“—shh. Be quiet, baby,” Steve murmurs before pressing his lips to yours and smiling when he feels you melt into him.
There was a very small part of you that wanted to roll your eyes but you were too busy kissing him back to think of much else.
For the past three months, you and Steve Harrington had been sneaking around like a pair of lovesick teenagers after years of unspoken feelings between the two of you. The reason for sneaking around wasn’t because you or Steve didn’t want to tell people about your relationship, it was more to do with the fact that Steve had made a promise to your brother a few years ago that he would stay away from you. Dustin hadn’t wanted his best friend and his sister to be involved with each other and Steve had only agreed because he thought that he never stood a chance with you.
Of course, that promise was shattered that night in the back of the SQWK van when you had finally had enough of the back and forth between you and Steve and you had kissed him until you both ran out of air.
You hadn’t initially set out to hide your relationship, it just happened as you both agreed to wait until you figured out a way to tell Dustin. But it was difficult to navigate when Dustin was in throes of grief from losing Eddie almost six months ago now. He had grown a little distant from Steve, purposefully trying to push him away and you had a feeling that Dustin learning that Steve had been secretly seeing his older sister for the past three months might drive even more of a wedge between them.
And so, you were sneaking around for the time being and you couldn’t deny it was a little bit fun to do so.
Just as Steve deepens the kiss—his large hands on either side of your neck gently titling your head back to coax your lips apart with his tongue—the sound of someone gasping in surprise rips the two of you apart.
Please don’t let it be Dustin. Please don’t let it be Dustin.
But as you pull away from Steve, your face burning and Steve looking a little dazed, you quickly realise that it wasn’t Dustin who had caught you—it was Lucas.
“Um, hi Sinclair,” Steve says by way of greeting, trying to act casual and as though you hadn’t been making out merely seconds ago.
Lucas’ eyes dart from Steve, to you and back again.
“Oh, Dustin is gonna flip—”
“—you can’t tell Henderson!” Steve insists, eyes widening in slight panic. “He’ll kill me—”
“—maybe you should have thought about it before you started making out with his sister—”
“—it was just a kiss—”
“—that’s a bunch of bull—”
“—Lucas, please don’t tell Dustin,” you plead with Lucas, cutting him off mid sentence so you didn’t have to hear him and Steve bicker back and forth a moment longer.
“Why not?” Lucas asks. “He deserves to know, this isn’t fair on him, you know? Besides, the party doesn’t keep secrets from each other. I have to tell him.”
The guilt stirs in your gut because you knew Lucas was right. You knew not being honest with Dustin wasn’t fair on him but you were trying to be sensitive around your brother’s current state.
Steve glances at you, seeing the torn expression on your face and his hand twitches, as though he was desperate to reach for yours.
“Just give us a few days, yeah?” Steve asks Lucas. “We’ll tell him. We just need to figure out how to do it gently.”
Lucas looks unconvinced and you decide to plead with him instead.
“Please Lucas?” You press him gently before he could open his mouth to tell you no. “Th—this isn’t a bit of fun for us and we want to tell Dustin properly.”
Your eyes are on Lucas but you could feel Steve looking at you at your words. You try not to think too much about it.
“Wait—you guys are like…serious?” Lucas asks.
You feel your face warming and you force yourself not to look at Steve at that moment.
“Yeah,” Steve says, his hand finding yours, thumb gently rubbing over your skin and making it hard for you to hold back a smile. “We are.”
Lucas looks at Steve for a long moment before finally, he nods. “Okay,” he says, somewhat reluctantly. “Okay, okay. I won’t tell him. But you two should probably stop making out in the basement if you don’t want him to catch you.”
You learned a day later that Lucas Sinclair could not keep a secret.
You were back in the basement of the radio station, planning the next crawl. The basement was full with the entirety of the party present as well as the older kids, Joyce and Hooper. You stand beside Steve, trying to keep a straight face as you listen to Nancy but it was proving difficult when Steve kept nudging his foot against yours.
You hear your name being said and you look up to see Nancy looking at you expectantly.
“What?” You ask, your mind half on the conversation and half on Steve’s arm that was brushing against yours. “Sorry. What did you say, Nance?”
Nancy looks at you, slightly suspicious of the distracted look on your face before she glances back down at the map. “I asked if you and Steve were okay to take the van tonight? We need Dustin to stay here to cover—”
Lucas snorts with laughter and you don’t even have time to send him a warning look before he bursts out, “Oh, they’ll be just fine. They’re just gonna make out the whole time.”
His words were met with complete and utter silence.
Your face was burning and Steve was almost completely lost for words. Lucas seems to realise two seconds too late what he had just let slip and attempts to laugh it off.
“I was kidding! It was just a—”
But nothing gets past Dustin Henderson.
“What are you talking about?” Dustin asks, brows furrowed in confusion as he looks from you to Steve and back again. “Is there something I don’t know about going here or?”
“I um,” Steve begins, looking at you while Robin—who was the only person who knew about you and Steve—struggles to keep a straight face. “I mean he was probably jo—”
“—no, don’t try and bullshit me man, what is Lucas talking about?”
You look up your brother then and you almost see the way he’s putting two and two together. At the way Steve’s body was turned towards yours, how he was looking at you with a soft look of concern on his face.
“Dustin, I swear we were going to tell you—” You begin but Dustin is quick to cut you off.
“—we?” Dustin asks, nostrils flaring as he looks at Steve. “There’s a we?”
“Can we please focus?” Hopper’s gruff voice cuts in before you or Steve could respond. “There’s more important things that we need to—”
“—you can’t be serious,” Dustin interrupts, clearly no longer caring about the crawl as he glares at both you and Steve. “You and Steve? Seriously?”
“Dustin, could you just—”
But Dustin is already shaking his head, curls bouncing as he walks away from the table without another word to either you or Steve.
Everyone in the room seems to hold their breath as Dustin practically stomps up the basement stairs while you and Steve look at each other. You vaguely register Lucas profusely apologising for running his mouth but you weren’t listening.
“I’ll go after him,” you say to Steve. “I can talk to him and—”
“—no, I’ll go,” Steve insists with a shake of his head. You open your mouth to protest but Steve is already leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek before he follows Dustin up the basement stairs.
“So you and Steve, huh?” Robin asks, trying and failing to seem surprised. “I had no idea! That’s such a surprise!”
Both Nancy and Jonathan laugh in a disbelieving sort of way and even you manage to crack a smile, despite the way your heart was pounding in your chest as you can’t help but imagine the conversation that Steve and your brother were having.
“Alright! Can we focus up now, please?” Hopper calls out, trying to wrangle everyone’s attention back to the mission at hand. “Alright—Wheeler—no Mike, not you—I need you and Buckley to—”
“—I’m just gonna go and check Steve and Dustin are okay,” you interrupt Hopper, ignoring the audible groan of frustration from him as you slip past the group and race up the basement stairs.
You follow the sound of Steve and Dustin’s voices, all the way up the basement stairs and out of the maintenance room where the entrance to the basement was hidden. You’re about to round the corner to head into the kitchen when the sound of Steve’s voices stops you.
“—I promise you man, I’m not just fooling around with her. I wouldn’t do that, especially not to her.”
“Then why would you not tell me? If you were that serious about her—”
“—I was scared, okay? I was—I was scared you wouldn’t handle it well and honestly? I was scared because I hadn’t felt this way about anyone before.”
Your breath hitches and even Dustin is taken aback by Steve’s words.
“Not even Nancy?”
A beat and then—
“Yeah. Not even Nance. With Nance it was—it was constantly worrying if I was doing the right thing, if I was enough. But with your sister—” Steve begins and though you can’t see him, you can hear the smile in his voice. “—she’s the real deal. She’s my favourite person and I was scared that telling everyone about our relationship would burst that bubble or something.”
You bit back a smile as you lean against the wall, your heart feeling fuller at Steve’s admission.
“She’s your favourite person?” Dustin repeats, his voice a little softer now.
“Yeah,” Steve says quietly. “She is.”
You almost step out and into the kitchen but what Dustin asks Steve next keeps you rooted to the spot.
“Do you love her?”
You swallow because three months together meant that you hadn’t yet breached the L word yet with Steve. You knew you loved him—you had known since the very first kiss if you were honest with yourself. But you had never told him that and you couldn’t be sure that Steve was actually in love with you too.
You almost leave, so that you don’t have to hear Steve’s response. In fact, you started to do just that—stepping back towards the stairs that lead back down to the basement when—
“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “I do. I love her.”
Your heart was doing funny things in your chest, things that surely defied science and all because Steve Harrington admitted that he loved you. He loved you, he loved you, he loved you.
“Wow,” you hear Dustin say a few seconds later, after he had digested Steve’s words. “Love. That’s um, that’s big, Steve.”
“It’s kind of hard not to fall in love with her.”
The smile that was beginning to tug on your lips almost hurt at Steve’s words. You had to fight the urge to run toward your boyfriend and kiss him stupid.
“You know if you break her heart that I’ll get Jonathan to beat you up again—”
“—oh c’mon, that was one time, I could totally take Byers again if I—”
“—so as long as you don’t do anything too stupid then—then I guess…I guess I forgive you for keeping it from me.”
“I promise you I won’t,” Steve reassures Dustin. “I’m gonna keep her for as long as she’ll have me. You never know, I might be your brother in law one day—”
“—nevermind, take everything I said back—”
“—too late, I can already see it now. A spring wedding, you can be the ring bearer and—”
You don’t see it but you hear a thumping sound which could only mean Dustin had smacked your boyfriend’s arm to shut him up. And you can’t help yourself, you let out a laugh.
There was silence from the kitchen and your heart thumps as you realise that both Steve and Dustin had heard you.
Dustin calls out your name and asks, “is that you?”
You squeeze your eyes shut, silently cursing yourself before you respond. “Yeah. It’s me.”
You step out then, heading towards the kitchen where Dustin and Steve were watching you step over the threshold. Dustin looked incredibly amused while Steve had a look of apprehension on his face, likely worried about just how much you had overheard.
“You’re so like mom, you know that? She’s always eavesdropping on my conversations—”
Your face burns at that and you glance quickly at Steve before looking away, “—I wasn’t eavesdropping, Dustin—”
“—you totally were. But whatever, I’m glad you two are happy. Just don’t make out in front of me. I don’t want anymore reasons to go to therapy at my age.”
You let out a choked out sound while the tips of Steve’s ears turn red. Dustin pays no mind to it, slipping past you as he heads towards the basement door with a slight spring in his step.
You don’t speak and neither does Steve. You begin to fiddle with a button on your cardigan while Steve seems suddenly interested in looking out of the kitchen window.
“So, do you wanna head back down before Hoppers kills us or—”
“—how much did you hear?”
You flex your fingers, the button slipping from your hand as you look over at Steve. He has a carefully measured expression on his face, as though he was bracing himself for the worst.
For a moment, you debate whether or not to lie to him. Whether you should tell him you hadn’t heard much at all but one look in those big, hazel eyes that you loved so much and you couldn’t find it in yourself to lie to him.
“You said I’m your favourite person,” you say finally with a faint smile. “That was sweet.”
Steve swallows nervously, a pink flush creeping up his neck as he looks back at you. “It’s true, you are.” He takes a tentative step closer, his eyes not leaving yours as he asks, “what else did you hear?”
You pretend to think, finding it near impossible to not smile as Steve stands right in front of you, his hands planting themselves on your waist and squeezing affectionately.
“I heard you say that you love me,” you say softly, your eyes flickering over his face.
“Yeah?” Steve murmurs, leaning in until his lips ghosted over your cheek, his breath hot against your skin. “And what did you think about that, baby?”
You exhale a shuddering breath, Steve’s lips placing a tender kiss to your cheek, then another to your forehead, then your nose and finally the very corner of your mouth. The contact makes your entire body shudder.
“I think,” you breathe out, head tilting back instinctively so as to look back at him. “I think it’s a good thing that I love you too.”
You feel Steve’s breathing slow, his hands grip you that little bit tighter and there was a look in his face that you hadn’t seen before.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, barely able to contain the smile on his face, “I love you. I love you so much. I can’t believe—”
He doesn’t even finish his own sentence, his lips sealing over yours in a kiss that leaves you breathless. Your hands find their way into his hair and his pull you flush against him, your mouths moving against each other as though you had all the time in the world.
It was you who had the sense to pull away first—Steve chasing your lips and pressing kiss after kiss there until you were laughing against him.
“Later,” you promise him, placing a finger to his lips to stop him. “We’ve got a crawl to plan.”
