Drabbles
8:10PM - Try as you may, you can't pick a fight with him
Satoru Gojo
Series Masterlist
No Strings Attached
The Gojo Clan has been trying to encourage Satoru to wed and have an heir for years, to no avail. After many failed plots, they've settled on hiring a matchmaker to find him a suitable woman. Much to everyone's dismay.
One Shots
Blurred Lines
You're his lunch.
Drabbles
9:12PM - He loves any gift you give him
Headcannons
Boyfriend!Satoru Gojo Headcannons
STRANGER THINGS
Steve Harrington
One Shots
All By Myself (Don't Wanna Be)
Steve gets nightmares, and the sleep deprivation has really been getting to him. So, Y/N takes care of him.
Are We Still Friends? (Can We Be Friends?)
Steve has a stupid crush on Dustin's older sister. And when he has to drop by the Henderson house to pick something up for the kid... Things take a turn for the better? Or maybe worse.
Cigarettes After Sex
Steve has only one vice: smoking. Y/N hates it and refuses to kiss him when he smokes. Naturally, Steve quits smoking.
Do I Wanna Know? (If This Feeling Flows Both Ways)
Steve's self-sacrificial behavior is causing issues as him and Dustin struggle to make amends. So, Y/N makes an effort to chat with him after a big fight.
I Wanna Know What Love Is (I Want You to Show Me)
The last time Steve's (now ex) girlfriend got drunk with him, she called their entire relationship bullshit and told him she didn't love him. Steve's current girlfriend now suffers the consequences because the man won't stop avoiding her when she get's drunk.
Sweater Weather
An ode to Steve Harrington's sweater. In which Steve thinks he's done something to piss off his girlfriend, and is ready to do anything to calm her rage. But in reality, she just wants to jump his bones because he looks absolutely delectable in that sweater of his. How could you do this to her during the end of the world, Stevie?
What Is Love? (Baby Don't Hurt Me)
Steve wants to feel needed. Y/N needs someone. So in an insomnia-induced stupor, she decides to call him in the middle of the night. And Steve is... a bit too ready to come over.
XOXO
Steve and Y/N's relationship is still kinda new, so she can't help but feel a bit shy about asking for affection. Steve loves to indulge her though
Drabbles
10:33PM - A man who yearns is a man who earns
links marked with * is a series masterlist
Joe Keery {Pt. Three} – @tbrafterdark
-Joe Keery
- The Way We Look at Each Other Now – @thelastcitysposts
-Steve Harrington
- Breakfast – @atropa-digitalis
- love language – @mcrdvcks
- steve harrington x freak!reader – @ithinkimagirlkisser
- 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. – @yikesdrama
- bf!steve harrington headcanons – @fawn-ism
- FUNNY MOUTH – @moonstoneandmoonlight
- so a few weeks ago in the car, ring by djo came up on my playlist and i immediately thought about steve jerking off to his... – @mcrdvcks
- 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧 – @biscuits-and-gracie*
- touch her and I’ll break your neck – @firelilyfox
- Crossing Paths – @thelastcitysposts
- ★ ◞ — HOW TO GET THE GIRL – @luvchall
- 10:33PM - A man who yearns is a man who earns – @cielasolana
- GAME NIGHT – @moonstoneandmoonlight
- love's steve harrington masterlist – @yeahiveheardofbears-fics
- 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒 – @supernovafics
- Valentine's Day – @troubleluli
- THE MOMENT I KNEW 𑣲 – @moonstoneandmoonlight
- Ruin the friendship - S.H – @forevermoreharrington
- steve has a love/hate relationship with snow days – @snoopyharrington
- steve harrington and his girls on valentine’s day! – @ponyosz
- LABYRINTH | steve harrington – @moonstoneandmoonlight
- 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 – @suprclark
- ✦ Summer Contact. – @certaimromance
- I Don't Want Distance... – @robinbuckleyloverrr
- . ˖ ꒰ ♡ something stupid – @dumbbandpoetic
- be my valentine – @snoopyharrington
- girls just want to have fun! – @snoopyharrington
- Proof of Life – @sweetlikenonsense
- Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby – @stevesgother
- જ⁀➴ the sick – @hearts4steve
- steve harrington is the kind of guy to take you to paris for your third anniversary – @moonstoneandmoonlight
- Messy - Steve Harrington x Reader – @cherrizbakery
- get ‘em to swap our places – @steveharringtonsbat
- touch you softly – @formallery
- DOMESTIC INTIMACY – @leithwrites
- mine, all mine – @colouredbyd
- roots – @tinkcantwrite
- Boyfriend? – @troubleluli
- practice makes perfect ! – @loserwheelers
- 𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓼𝔂 𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓽𝓸𝓷 – @cha0ticstranger
- sleepy sex with steve – @lipglossnkisses
- SWEET GIRL — S.H. – @tsukkiru
- 𝐤𝐞𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝: 𝐰𝐚𝐬 – @suprclark
links marked with * is a series masterlist
Joe Keery {Pt. Two} – @tbrafterdark
-Steve Harrington
- Midnight | Steve Harrington x Reader – @vamptales
- making you blush – @firelilyfox
- Baby Its Cold Outside – @honey-and-halos
- ~ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒍𝒆𝒔 ˎˊ˗ – @hrringtonlove on Tumblr
- practice child — steve harrington – @withloveiriss
- waking boyfriend!steve up in the middle of the night
- The monster’s gone – @stxrgirly
- makeup – @yaluficsaddict
- ₊˚⊹ come back to bed | steve harrington x reader – @earth2starkey
- Learning You – @moondustbaby
- @ THIN RED LINES ˎˊ˗ – @hrringtonlove
- Hair Pulling – @atropa-digitalis
- i love, i love, i love you – @heartybubs
- 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 – @levanswrites
- bf!steve and his innocent gf that’s obsessed w his cock – @o528s
- Upside Down – @st3velvr
- @ LET ME GIVE IT TO YOU ˎˊ˗ – @hrringtonlove
- Steve Harrington fucked you so hard that the bed broke. – @gardenias-on-the-tile
- ۶ৎ Husband!Steve fucking you in a mating press after you put the kids to bed – @iluvemobitches
- ~ The Way You Taste ˎˊ˗ – @hrringtonlove
- cheeky firsts – @allconsumingdesire-net
- A QUICK FIX. 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 – @nobodys-s0n
- @ DRUNK ON YOU ˎˊ˗ – @hrringtonlove
- @ INTERTWINED ˎˊ˗ – @hrringtonlove
- 20 MINUTES - STEVE HARRINGTON – @lcveblossm
- steve harrington x reader – @harringtonsdiary
- @ CLINGY ˎˊ˗ – @hrringtonlove
- 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 ( 𝐢 ) – @suprclark
- car ride with steve – @shawnxstyles
- Safe place - Steve Harrington – @mcsstydia
- You're So Gorgeous – @oohooheeheehaaheeheeh
- a brand new day — steve harrington – @withloveiriss
- All the quiet things – @tomsparkyr*
- Cigarettes After Sex – @cielasolana on Tumblr
- game night - steve harrington – @ashystaars
- Blast from the Past – @alcottsangel
- Baby Bomb – @alcottsangel
- ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SWEET AS CHERRY PIE – @barrettsangel
- Girl of the Week – @alcottsangel
- A boy in love – @frost-queen
- 𝓒𝓸𝔃𝔂 – @taylors--corner on
- Back to Friends – @catherinnn
- જ⁀➴ falling behind – @hearts4steve
- you can always reconsider – @snapesuntouchedshampoo
- spit (18+) – @honorschem
- Steve eating you out all night long when you have a headache because “having an orgasm helps with head pain, baby!” (18+) – @frostedpinkdoll
- Lost In Translation – @cielasolana
Summary: Nancy is sick of Steve's crush on her— and she's about to confront him over it when she realizes that maybe she's misunderstood the real reason he's acting weird recently.
Warnings: Use of Y/N, Fluff, Cursing, Minor Miscommunication
Word Count: 2K
Masterlist
Nancy is going to give Steve a piece of her mind.
He’s been acting so goddamn weird lately— honestly, she thought they were past this! Yes, they had a good thing, but the keyword was had, it was a thing of the past. Nancy thought she had been pretty clear about her solely platonic feelings for Steve, but he clearly wasn’t getting the message. Every time they spoke he’d clam up and act all awkward, evading her gaze and practically stumbling over his words. Somehow, his stupid crush on her had evidently prevailed.
So, she set her sights on cornering him after today’s crawl, when he dropped off the keys to the WSQK van. It takes her a second to find him, he’d run off the second he arrived at the station again, but eventually she hears his voice from inside one of the storage closets.
Huh?
“How was it today?”
The other voice, she quickly realizes, is Y/N. Though Nancy confirms this by peering around the edge of the doorway to see the two of them. Y/N had stayed behind from today’s crawl, instead opting to sort through the rather large shipment Murray had brought earlier that day. A small clipboard is in her hand, a pencil in the other as her gaze flicks back and forth between the shelves and the inventory sheet that had been carefully curated in the past few months of quarantine.
“Fine.” Steve responds, hand coming to rest on the top of the shelf as he gazes down at her. The type of thing he does to seem cool, Nancy is pretty familiar with the move herself. The action gives Y/N a reason to pause, she looks up at him. “Nothing of interest.” Steve adds, feeling almost scrutinized under the girl’s gaze as he swallows nervously.
Y/N only hums, gaze returning to her inventory sheet, an air of nonchalance she doesn’t often wear, the type that seems almost unnatural and forced. “Well, I’m glad you made it back alright.” The words are sincere yet stiff, maybe a bit awkward. Bashful might be the better term by the way she avoids Steve’s gaze.
Nancy blinks at the sight, once, twice. Trying to discern what it all means. She’s seen the two of them interact before, they’d all gone to high school together after all. For the past few months, he and Y/N had been working nights at WSQK to keep the midnight radio station going. Sure, they’d gotten closer, but Nancy had never thought it was anything more than two good friends.
Until now, that is.
Steve nods absently, leaning a little closer. Close enough that it borders on something a bit more than friendly as his head just barely ducks down in a subtle effort to be closer to Y/N. It makes Y/N pause again, looking up at him. Nancy can see the way her gaze flits to his lips for just a moment and—
Holy shit, are they flirting? Or, more accurately, failing at flirting? The tension between them is easily explained by some sort of awkward pining now that Nancy thinks about it.
“Steve.” The way Y/N speaks is almost in warning, back of her pen coming to his chest to gently push him away. “I told you—”
Instantly he’s shaking his head. His hand came to gently wrap around her wrist. “I know.” He acquiesces. “And I told you that you’ve got the wrong idea.” His voice is soft, almost pleading as his gaze darts over her face.
See, Nancy had it all wrong. Steve’s odd behavior and awkwardness had nothing to do with a crush on her, it had everything to do with his stupid crush on Y/N. Because after confessing to the girl, she had instantaneously shot him down.
“Everyone knows you’re still in love with Nancy.”
The words had been haunting him ever since. And Steve had made it his personal mission to prove her wrong. He wasn’t still in love with Nancy. Yes, there was a point in his life where he loved her deeply, but that felt so far away now. Nancy had moved on with Jonathan, and maybe Steve had been vying for her affection at some point, but he wasn’t stupid. Nancy didn’t want him anymore. After a bit of sulking and wallowing, he’d realized there were better things to do with his time.
Y/N wasn’t a rebound. She was, admittedly, an accident. Though Steve had been going on dates left and right, he hadn’t been looking for love per se, he’d been looking for some form of validation. Proof that he could be loved at all. With each failed date, the blows to his pride only grew. The dry spell was neverending, and eventually he’d all but given up. Perhaps Steve Harrington really was unlovable, meant to die alone.
She was around a lot. And with proximity comes talking, and with talking comes knowing. Steve has found that there is nothing more intimate than knowing. To know someone like the back of your own hand, it brings a warm feeling to his chest and a word he’s a bit scared to say to his mind. Because he knew her, he’d memorized the curves in her handwriting on that god forsaken inventory sheet, the glee of her laugh, the furrow of her brows when she was confused. He knew.
Worse, she knew. It was the little things, the way she arrived for the 6PM shift with an extra cup of coffee made to his taste. Or how she’d always started the late night radio off with one of his favorite songs. Even the way she knew his movements as they navigated the all too small radio booth. She knew who he was and she was still his friend. A fact that made Steve think, even if only for a moment, that maybe he is not unlovable.
Eventually he didn’t just know: he wanted, he yearned.
With each late night shift together, the desire to be closer, to know more only intensified. The simple routine they’d fallen into was something he relished in. The banter, the type of flirting that is hardly there. Or at least, he had thought it was flirting. Robin had too, having grown tired of Steve’s lengthy rants on their interactions. Up until he’d been dropping Y/N off at home and just confessed. Hearing her say no because she was under the impression he still wanted Nancy hurt. So, he simply had to show her how wrong she was.
“I don’t like Nancy anymore.” The words are insistent, maybe a bit desperate. Because he needs her to believe him, he really does. The mere thought that this was the only reason he’d been rejected physically pains him. She could be his if they just cleared this up and moved on!
Nancy suddenly feels like she’s intruding, quickly realizing that Steve hadn’t been treating her oddly because he had feelings for her. But rather, because he’d been trying to prove he didn’t have feelings for her.
Y/N clears her throat, pursing her lips and looking up at him. “Steve—”
He shakes his head again, giving her wrist a gentle squeeze. “Y’know, I’ve been avoiding her like the plague for the past two weeks.” Steve explains, gaze flickering over her face in search of some sort of approval. Avoiding Nancy was an easy solution, people would stop talking about his non-existent feelings for her. “Hardly even a conversation.” He breathes out.
“I didn’t ask you to do that.” She responds softly, brows furrowing a bit. “And I doubt Nancy will take too kindly to that.”
Steve laughs, “I don’t care.” A pause. “I mean— I do. I don’t wanna be rude but I—” He sighs, “I don’t care about Nancy like that, that’s what I need you to understand.” Yes, Nancy was his friend, a good friend. But now, that’s all there was to it.
She sighs, gently tugging her wrist free from his hold. She puts down the clipboard and pen before returning her attention to him. “Steve.” She talks with her hands, he knows that. It’s one of the many things he knows about her, it's probably why she put those things down first. Because now he’s watching her gesture a bit wildly with her hands, starting some rant that he’s not entirely paying attention to.
“Do you like me?” He cuts her off, it’s a simple question after all. One that has her pausing, blinking up at him, surprised and confused.
“Do I…” Her face warms as she registers the question, and she looks away with a huff. “That’s not what this is about.”
“That’s the only thing this is about.” Steve responds, “cause I really like you. A lot. Like, way too much. It’s embarrassing if I’m honest.” He brings a hand to hover over her face, hesitant for a moment before cupping her cheek. “It’s not about Nancy at all. Or about what everyone thinks I feel. It’s about you and me. That’s it.” He says softly.
She swallows, suddenly feeling nervous. Her gaze goes down, trying to avoid eye contact. Though his hand slides to her jaw, gently tipping it back up to make her meet his gaze. She looks up at him through her lashes, eyes flicking over his face. When she frowns a bit, his free hand comes to smooth the crease between her brows. “Everyone says you still like her.” She repeats quietly.
“But do you like me?” He asks again, leaning forwards to rest his forehead against hers. “Do you?” He somehow sounds both shy and eager, looking for clues on her face.
He really wants her to say yes. If nothing else, he just wants to try. He’ll kick himself for the rest of his life if they don’t at least try. It doesn’t have to be anything more than a single date, but Steve just needs a chance.
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and his gaze drops down to her lips at the sight of it. Oh god, she’s killing him. His thumb gently swipes over her bottom lip, tugging it free from between her teeth.
“I— I do.” She breathes out, hesitant. “But Steve—”
He’s already beaming, a dimpled smile on his face as both his hands cup her cheeks. A breathy laugh escapes him as he leans forward to nudge his nose against hers. “You do?” It’s endearing, how excited he sounds. “I like you too.” He repeats it, and she thinks she’s heard it a million times from him now but it still has the same effect. Her heart pounding a bit harder in her chest. “Like a lot.”
“I’m starting to think you don’t listen to the words I say.” She mumbles, a bit shy from the proximity.
Steve scoffs, nosing at her cheek now, she breathes out a little laugh. “I listen to everything you say.” He responds, almost offended she had even suggested otherwise. “Everything. All the time. I love your voice.”
A giggle escapes Y/N this time, though it’s quickly silenced when he pulls back to look at her, thumb smoothing over her cheek. “Hi.” Is all she can manage, and it has him laughing as well.
“Hi.” He murmurs back quietly.
It’s soft— he’s soft. Hushed whispers and laughs between the two even if things aren’t entirely resolved quite yet. Steve has always been a loverboy, but seeing him now, Nancy can’t help but feel a bit surprised. He’s gentle in a way she’d never really seen before. She finds herself stepping away from the small crack in the door, her own morbid curiosity is beat by the overwhelming feeling she’s invading on something deeply intimate.
Well, at least she didn’t have to yell at anyone today.
Note: laugh out loud!
feel free to tip ☕️ — always appreciated, never expected 💛
Summary: Nancy is sick of Steve's crush on her— and she's about to confront him over it when she realizes that maybe she's misunderstood the real reason he's acting weird recently.
Warnings: Use of Y/N, Fluff, Cursing, Minor Miscommunication
Word Count: 2K
Masterlist
Nancy is going to give Steve a piece of her mind.
He’s been acting so goddamn weird lately— honestly, she thought they were past this! Yes, they had a good thing, but the keyword was had, it was a thing of the past. Nancy thought she had been pretty clear about her solely platonic feelings for Steve, but he clearly wasn’t getting the message. Every time they spoke he’d clam up and act all awkward, evading her gaze and practically stumbling over his words. Somehow, his stupid crush on her had evidently prevailed.
So, she set her sights on cornering him after today’s crawl, when he dropped off the keys to the WSQK van. It takes her a second to find him, he’d run off the second he arrived at the station again, but eventually she hears his voice from inside one of the storage closets.
Huh?
“How was it today?”
The other voice, she quickly realizes, is Y/N. Though Nancy confirms this by peering around the edge of the doorway to see the two of them. Y/N had stayed behind from today’s crawl, instead opting to sort through the rather large shipment Murray had brought earlier that day. A small clipboard is in her hand, a pencil in the other as her gaze flicks back and forth between the shelves and the inventory sheet that had been carefully curated in the past few months of quarantine.
“Fine.” Steve responds, hand coming to rest on the top of the shelf as he gazes down at her. The type of thing he does to seem cool, Nancy is pretty familiar with the move herself. The action gives Y/N a reason to pause, she looks up at him. “Nothing of interest.” Steve adds, feeling almost scrutinized under the girl’s gaze as he swallows nervously.
Y/N only hums, gaze returning to her inventory sheet, an air of nonchalance she doesn’t often wear, the type that seems almost unnatural and forced. “Well, I’m glad you made it back alright.” The words are sincere yet stiff, maybe a bit awkward. Bashful might be the better term by the way she avoids Steve’s gaze.
Nancy blinks at the sight, once, twice. Trying to discern what it all means. She’s seen the two of them interact before, they’d all gone to high school together after all. For the past few months, he and Y/N had been working nights at WSQK to keep the midnight radio station going. Sure, they’d gotten closer, but Nancy had never thought it was anything more than two good friends.
Until now, that is.
Steve nods absently, leaning a little closer. Close enough that it borders on something a bit more than friendly as his head just barely ducks down in a subtle effort to be closer to Y/N. It makes Y/N pause again, looking up at him. Nancy can see the way her gaze flits to his lips for just a moment and—
Holy shit, are they flirting? Or, more accurately, failing at flirting? The tension between them is easily explained by some sort of awkward pining now that Nancy thinks about it.
“Steve.” The way Y/N speaks is almost in warning, back of her pen coming to his chest to gently push him away. “I told you—”
Instantly he’s shaking his head. His hand came to gently wrap around her wrist. “I know.” He acquiesces. “And I told you that you’ve got the wrong idea.” His voice is soft, almost pleading as his gaze darts over her face.
See, Nancy had it all wrong. Steve’s odd behavior and awkwardness had nothing to do with a crush on her, it had everything to do with his stupid crush on Y/N. Because after confessing to the girl, she had instantaneously shot him down.
“Everyone knows you’re still in love with Nancy.”
The words had been haunting him ever since. And Steve had made it his personal mission to prove her wrong. He wasn’t still in love with Nancy. Yes, there was a point in his life where he loved her deeply, but that felt so far away now. Nancy had moved on with Jonathan, and maybe Steve had been vying for her affection at some point, but he wasn’t stupid. Nancy didn’t want him anymore. After a bit of sulking and wallowing, he’d realized there were better things to do with his time.
Y/N wasn’t a rebound. She was, admittedly, an accident. Though Steve had been going on dates left and right, he hadn’t been looking for love per se, he’d been looking for some form of validation. Proof that he could be loved at all. With each failed date, the blows to his pride only grew. The dry spell was neverending, and eventually he’d all but given up. Perhaps Steve Harrington really was unlovable, meant to die alone.
She was around a lot. And with proximity comes talking, and with talking comes knowing. Steve has found that there is nothing more intimate than knowing. To know someone like the back of your own hand, it brings a warm feeling to his chest and a word he’s a bit scared to say to his mind. Because he knew her, he’d memorized the curves in her handwriting on that god forsaken inventory sheet, the glee of her laugh, the furrow of her brows when she was confused. He knew.
Worse, she knew. It was the little things, the way she arrived for the 6PM shift with an extra cup of coffee made to his taste. Or how she’d always started the late night radio off with one of his favorite songs. Even the way she knew his movements as they navigated the all too small radio booth. She knew who he was and she was still his friend. A fact that made Steve think, even if only for a moment, that maybe he is not unlovable.
Eventually he didn’t just know: he wanted, he yearned.
With each late night shift together, the desire to be closer, to know more only intensified. The simple routine they’d fallen into was something he relished in. The banter, the type of flirting that is hardly there. Or at least, he had thought it was flirting. Robin had too, having grown tired of Steve’s lengthy rants on their interactions. Up until he’d been dropping Y/N off at home and just confessed. Hearing her say no because she was under the impression he still wanted Nancy hurt. So, he simply had to show her how wrong she was.
“I don’t like Nancy anymore.” The words are insistent, maybe a bit desperate. Because he needs her to believe him, he really does. The mere thought that this was the only reason he’d been rejected physically pains him. She could be his if they just cleared this up and moved on!
Nancy suddenly feels like she’s intruding, quickly realizing that Steve hadn’t been treating her oddly because he had feelings for her. But rather, because he’d been trying to prove he didn’t have feelings for her.
Y/N clears her throat, pursing her lips and looking up at him. “Steve—”
He shakes his head again, giving her wrist a gentle squeeze. “Y’know, I’ve been avoiding her like the plague for the past two weeks.” Steve explains, gaze flickering over her face in search of some sort of approval. Avoiding Nancy was an easy solution, people would stop talking about his non-existent feelings for her. “Hardly even a conversation.” He breathes out.
“I didn’t ask you to do that.” She responds softly, brows furrowing a bit. “And I doubt Nancy will take too kindly to that.”
Steve laughs, “I don’t care.” A pause. “I mean— I do. I don’t wanna be rude but I—” He sighs, “I don’t care about Nancy like that, that’s what I need you to understand.” Yes, Nancy was his friend, a good friend. But now, that’s all there was to it.
She sighs, gently tugging her wrist free from his hold. She puts down the clipboard and pen before returning her attention to him. “Steve.” She talks with her hands, he knows that. It’s one of the many things he knows about her, it's probably why she put those things down first. Because now he’s watching her gesture a bit wildly with her hands, starting some rant that he’s not entirely paying attention to.
“Do you like me?” He cuts her off, it’s a simple question after all. One that has her pausing, blinking up at him, surprised and confused.
“Do I…” Her face warms as she registers the question, and she looks away with a huff. “That’s not what this is about.”
“That’s the only thing this is about.” Steve responds, “cause I really like you. A lot. Like, way too much. It’s embarrassing if I’m honest.” He brings a hand to hover over her face, hesitant for a moment before cupping her cheek. “It’s not about Nancy at all. Or about what everyone thinks I feel. It’s about you and me. That’s it.” He says softly.
She swallows, suddenly feeling nervous. Her gaze goes down, trying to avoid eye contact. Though his hand slides to her jaw, gently tipping it back up to make her meet his gaze. She looks up at him through her lashes, eyes flicking over his face. When she frowns a bit, his free hand comes to smooth the crease between her brows. “Everyone says you still like her.” She repeats quietly.
“But do you like me?” He asks again, leaning forwards to rest his forehead against hers. “Do you?” He somehow sounds both shy and eager, looking for clues on her face.
He really wants her to say yes. If nothing else, he just wants to try. He’ll kick himself for the rest of his life if they don’t at least try. It doesn’t have to be anything more than a single date, but Steve just needs a chance.
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and his gaze drops down to her lips at the sight of it. Oh god, she’s killing him. His thumb gently swipes over her bottom lip, tugging it free from between her teeth.
“I— I do.” She breathes out, hesitant. “But Steve—”
He’s already beaming, a dimpled smile on his face as both his hands cup her cheeks. A breathy laugh escapes him as he leans forward to nudge his nose against hers. “You do?” It’s endearing, how excited he sounds. “I like you too.” He repeats it, and she thinks she’s heard it a million times from him now but it still has the same effect. Her heart pounding a bit harder in her chest. “Like a lot.”
“I’m starting to think you don’t listen to the words I say.” She mumbles, a bit shy from the proximity.
Steve scoffs, nosing at her cheek now, she breathes out a little laugh. “I listen to everything you say.” He responds, almost offended she had even suggested otherwise. “Everything. All the time. I love your voice.”
A giggle escapes Y/N this time, though it’s quickly silenced when he pulls back to look at her, thumb smoothing over her cheek. “Hi.” Is all she can manage, and it has him laughing as well.
“Hi.” He murmurs back quietly.
It’s soft— he’s soft. Hushed whispers and laughs between the two even if things aren’t entirely resolved quite yet. Steve has always been a loverboy, but seeing him now, Nancy can’t help but feel a bit surprised. He’s gentle in a way she’d never really seen before. She finds herself stepping away from the small crack in the door, her own morbid curiosity is beat by the overwhelming feeling she’s invading on something deeply intimate.
Well, at least she didn’t have to yell at anyone today.
Note: laugh out loud!
feel free to tip ☕️ — always appreciated, never expected 💛
Summary: Nancy is sick of Steve's crush on her— and she's about to confront him over it when she realizes that maybe she's misunderstood the real reason he's acting weird recently.
Warnings: Use of Y/N, Fluff, Cursing, Minor Miscommunication
Word Count: 2K
Masterlist
Nancy is going to give Steve a piece of her mind.
He’s been acting so goddamn weird lately— honestly, she thought they were past this! Yes, they had a good thing, but the keyword was had, it was a thing of the past. Nancy thought she had been pretty clear about her solely platonic feelings for Steve, but he clearly wasn’t getting the message. Every time they spoke he’d clam up and act all awkward, evading her gaze and practically stumbling over his words. Somehow, his stupid crush on her had evidently prevailed.
So, she set her sights on cornering him after today’s crawl, when he dropped off the keys to the WSQK van. It takes her a second to find him, he’d run off the second he arrived at the station again, but eventually she hears his voice from inside one of the storage closets.
Huh?
“How was it today?”
The other voice, she quickly realizes, is Y/N. Though Nancy confirms this by peering around the edge of the doorway to see the two of them. Y/N had stayed behind from today’s crawl, instead opting to sort through the rather large shipment Murray had brought earlier that day. A small clipboard is in her hand, a pencil in the other as her gaze flicks back and forth between the shelves and the inventory sheet that had been carefully curated in the past few months of quarantine.
“Fine.” Steve responds, hand coming to rest on the top of the shelf as he gazes down at her. The type of thing he does to seem cool, Nancy is pretty familiar with the move herself. The action gives Y/N a reason to pause, she looks up at him. “Nothing of interest.” Steve adds, feeling almost scrutinized under the girl’s gaze as he swallows nervously.
Y/N only hums, gaze returning to her inventory sheet, an air of nonchalance she doesn’t often wear, the type that seems almost unnatural and forced. “Well, I’m glad you made it back alright.” The words are sincere yet stiff, maybe a bit awkward. Bashful might be the better term by the way she avoids Steve’s gaze.
Nancy blinks at the sight, once, twice. Trying to discern what it all means. She’s seen the two of them interact before, they’d all gone to high school together after all. For the past few months, he and Y/N had been working nights at WSQK to keep the midnight radio station going. Sure, they’d gotten closer, but Nancy had never thought it was anything more than two good friends.
Until now, that is.
Steve nods absently, leaning a little closer. Close enough that it borders on something a bit more than friendly as his head just barely ducks down in a subtle effort to be closer to Y/N. It makes Y/N pause again, looking up at him. Nancy can see the way her gaze flits to his lips for just a moment and—
Holy shit, are they flirting? Or, more accurately, failing at flirting? The tension between them is easily explained by some sort of awkward pining now that Nancy thinks about it.
“Steve.” The way Y/N speaks is almost in warning, back of her pen coming to his chest to gently push him away. “I told you—”
Instantly he’s shaking his head. His hand came to gently wrap around her wrist. “I know.” He acquiesces. “And I told you that you’ve got the wrong idea.” His voice is soft, almost pleading as his gaze darts over her face.
See, Nancy had it all wrong. Steve’s odd behavior and awkwardness had nothing to do with a crush on her, it had everything to do with his stupid crush on Y/N. Because after confessing to the girl, she had instantaneously shot him down.
“Everyone knows you’re still in love with Nancy.”
The words had been haunting him ever since. And Steve had made it his personal mission to prove her wrong. He wasn’t still in love with Nancy. Yes, there was a point in his life where he loved her deeply, but that felt so far away now. Nancy had moved on with Jonathan, and maybe Steve had been vying for her affection at some point, but he wasn’t stupid. Nancy didn’t want him anymore. After a bit of sulking and wallowing, he’d realized there were better things to do with his time.
Y/N wasn’t a rebound. She was, admittedly, an accident. Though Steve had been going on dates left and right, he hadn’t been looking for love per se, he’d been looking for some form of validation. Proof that he could be loved at all. With each failed date, the blows to his pride only grew. The dry spell was neverending, and eventually he’d all but given up. Perhaps Steve Harrington really was unlovable, meant to die alone.
She was around a lot. And with proximity comes talking, and with talking comes knowing. Steve has found that there is nothing more intimate than knowing. To know someone like the back of your own hand, it brings a warm feeling to his chest and a word he’s a bit scared to say to his mind. Because he knew her, he’d memorized the curves in her handwriting on that god forsaken inventory sheet, the glee of her laugh, the furrow of her brows when she was confused. He knew.
Worse, she knew. It was the little things, the way she arrived for the 6PM shift with an extra cup of coffee made to his taste. Or how she’d always started the late night radio off with one of his favorite songs. Even the way she knew his movements as they navigated the all too small radio booth. She knew who he was and she was still his friend. A fact that made Steve think, even if only for a moment, that maybe he is not unlovable.
Eventually he didn’t just know: he wanted, he yearned.
With each late night shift together, the desire to be closer, to know more only intensified. The simple routine they’d fallen into was something he relished in. The banter, the type of flirting that is hardly there. Or at least, he had thought it was flirting. Robin had too, having grown tired of Steve’s lengthy rants on their interactions. Up until he’d been dropping Y/N off at home and just confessed. Hearing her say no because she was under the impression he still wanted Nancy hurt. So, he simply had to show her how wrong she was.
“I don’t like Nancy anymore.” The words are insistent, maybe a bit desperate. Because he needs her to believe him, he really does. The mere thought that this was the only reason he’d been rejected physically pains him. She could be his if they just cleared this up and moved on!
Nancy suddenly feels like she’s intruding, quickly realizing that Steve hadn’t been treating her oddly because he had feelings for her. But rather, because he’d been trying to prove he didn’t have feelings for her.
Y/N clears her throat, pursing her lips and looking up at him. “Steve—”
He shakes his head again, giving her wrist a gentle squeeze. “Y’know, I’ve been avoiding her like the plague for the past two weeks.” Steve explains, gaze flickering over her face in search of some sort of approval. Avoiding Nancy was an easy solution, people would stop talking about his non-existent feelings for her. “Hardly even a conversation.” He breathes out.
“I didn’t ask you to do that.” She responds softly, brows furrowing a bit. “And I doubt Nancy will take too kindly to that.”
Steve laughs, “I don’t care.” A pause. “I mean— I do. I don’t wanna be rude but I—” He sighs, “I don’t care about Nancy like that, that’s what I need you to understand.” Yes, Nancy was his friend, a good friend. But now, that’s all there was to it.
She sighs, gently tugging her wrist free from his hold. She puts down the clipboard and pen before returning her attention to him. “Steve.” She talks with her hands, he knows that. It’s one of the many things he knows about her, it's probably why she put those things down first. Because now he’s watching her gesture a bit wildly with her hands, starting some rant that he’s not entirely paying attention to.
“Do you like me?” He cuts her off, it’s a simple question after all. One that has her pausing, blinking up at him, surprised and confused.
“Do I…” Her face warms as she registers the question, and she looks away with a huff. “That’s not what this is about.”
“That’s the only thing this is about.” Steve responds, “cause I really like you. A lot. Like, way too much. It’s embarrassing if I’m honest.” He brings a hand to hover over her face, hesitant for a moment before cupping her cheek. “It’s not about Nancy at all. Or about what everyone thinks I feel. It’s about you and me. That’s it.” He says softly.
She swallows, suddenly feeling nervous. Her gaze goes down, trying to avoid eye contact. Though his hand slides to her jaw, gently tipping it back up to make her meet his gaze. She looks up at him through her lashes, eyes flicking over his face. When she frowns a bit, his free hand comes to smooth the crease between her brows. “Everyone says you still like her.” She repeats quietly.
“But do you like me?” He asks again, leaning forwards to rest his forehead against hers. “Do you?” He somehow sounds both shy and eager, looking for clues on her face.
He really wants her to say yes. If nothing else, he just wants to try. He’ll kick himself for the rest of his life if they don’t at least try. It doesn’t have to be anything more than a single date, but Steve just needs a chance.
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and his gaze drops down to her lips at the sight of it. Oh god, she’s killing him. His thumb gently swipes over her bottom lip, tugging it free from between her teeth.
“I— I do.” She breathes out, hesitant. “But Steve—”
He’s already beaming, a dimpled smile on his face as both his hands cup her cheeks. A breathy laugh escapes him as he leans forward to nudge his nose against hers. “You do?” It’s endearing, how excited he sounds. “I like you too.” He repeats it, and she thinks she’s heard it a million times from him now but it still has the same effect. Her heart pounding a bit harder in her chest. “Like a lot.”
“I’m starting to think you don’t listen to the words I say.” She mumbles, a bit shy from the proximity.
Steve scoffs, nosing at her cheek now, she breathes out a little laugh. “I listen to everything you say.” He responds, almost offended she had even suggested otherwise. “Everything. All the time. I love your voice.”
A giggle escapes Y/N this time, though it’s quickly silenced when he pulls back to look at her, thumb smoothing over her cheek. “Hi.” Is all she can manage, and it has him laughing as well.
“Hi.” He murmurs back quietly.
It’s soft— he’s soft. Hushed whispers and laughs between the two even if things aren’t entirely resolved quite yet. Steve has always been a loverboy, but seeing him now, Nancy can’t help but feel a bit surprised. He’s gentle in a way she’d never really seen before. She finds herself stepping away from the small crack in the door, her own morbid curiosity is beat by the overwhelming feeling she’s invading on something deeply intimate.
Well, at least she didn’t have to yell at anyone today.
Note: laugh out loud!
feel free to tip ☕️ — always appreciated, never expected 💛
Summary: Steve has only one vice: smoking. Y/N hates it and refuses to kiss him when he smokes. Naturally, Steve quits smoking.
Warnings: Use of Y/N, Fluff, Cursing, (French) Kissing, Smoking lol, Making Out, the tiniest bit of second hand embarrassment
Word Count: 2.7K
Masterlist
Steve Harrington has few vices. Admittedly, that’s a more recent development. Since reforming his entire personality after many near-death experiences— he’s been forced to reflect on past behavior and change. Overall, a great experience but… it didn’t mean he had to give up all his vices.
He likes to smoke.
It’s a good stress reliever, simple and easy. All he needs is a pack of cigarettes and a light, and he’s good to go. Yeah, he’s heard it might not be the most healthy but it wouldn’t kill him. He’s encountered things that could kill him— a tiny cigarette wouldn’t be the thing to make him kick the bucket just yet.
Steve steps outside, away from the kids and everyone else. Reaching into his pocket to fish out the pack of cigarettes, he picks one from the box and brings it to his lips. Once he flicks open his lighter, he’s quick to light the bud. His eyes flutter shut as he inhales the smoke, taking the cigarette from his lips to puff it out with a sigh.
His smoke breaks are brief, and not too frequent. He stamps out the cigarette and tosses it in the small trash can at the entryway before stepping back inside. The kids don’t notice his brief absence, too absorbed in the movie he’d brought for them from Family Video.
Y/N notices though, she always does. She’s meandering in the kitchen of the Harrington House, unnecessarily large and needlessly empty, washing dishes from earlier this evening. Steve nods to her awkwardly, a small smile on his face. “I can do that.” He offers immediately, waving her off, his voice a bit hushed as he hears the kids roar in laughter in the other room.
She shakes her head. “You’re already hosting, I can wash the dishes. It’s the least I can do.”
He steps closer, reaching out to grab one of dishes she’d placed onto the rack to help with drying it at least. Though she pauses for a moment, only the sound of the water running in the kitchen, Y/N can’t help but scrunch her nose. “Did you smoke?” She asks.
Steve blinks, looking at her, he offers a bashful smile. “Ah, yes I did.”
She only hums, clearing her throat. “That stuff is bad for you.” Comes her quiet murmur as she resumes scrubbing the dishes.
He breathes out a laugh and nods along. “So I’ve heard.”
“Smells bad, too.” She adds quietly, looking up at him for a moment before averting her gaze back to the dishes. The comment has Steve’s smile fading a bit, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he hums in acknowledgement.
Y/N hates when Steve smokes.
For a lot of reasons. The smell being one of them. Typically, Steve smells… good. As embarrassing as it is for her to admit, he takes care of himself, he’s always been pretty hygienic. With all the products he uses and the time he spends making himself look good, he has a nice scent. But, the smoke clings to his clothes, to his skin, to his breath. It’s not a pleasant smell. It’s the type of thing that makes her wrinkle her nose and step the tiniest bit away.
It’s also unhealthy. All signs point to long term smoking as a factor in a myriad of health problems, yet Steve smokes anyways. She doesn’t ask him about it often, he’s only offhandedly mentioned it as something that relaxes him.
There’s the taste, too. Y/N had only tried smoking once, a social thing really. But the taste had been enough to throw her off and make it a one time thing. It lingers on your tongue, gross and pungent. There’s no appeal to it.
She pushes those thoughts away as she focuses her attention on the dishes and not the man next to her and his singular, awful vice.
The Harrington House, empty as ever, is home to the party’s more indulgent operations. Beyond movie nights, there are pool nights and study nights and board game nights. His house is perfect for sleepovers with the countless extra rooms and ridiculous amount of space. Hence the number of teenagers crowded into his living room as of right now, yelling out their reactions at the screen as they watch some new horror movie.
Y/N can count on one hand the number of times she’s been alone with Steve. It’s hard, the party has a bad habit of interrupting their solo time together, but she enjoys herself nonetheless. He’s pleasant, much sweeter than he was in high school. She can certainly see the… appeal of Steve Harrington. Especially ever since they’d started their relationship-thing. She didn’t really have a name for it quite yet, they’d gone on a couple dates on the down-low. It was private, quiet, just between them. But she likes it, likes him.
And right now, the party is… occupied.
Steve clears his throat as they wrap up the dishes, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms as he looks at Y/N. She’s pretty, he thinks. With a sort of elegance about her. He likes to look at her, to observe. She seems to notice this as she dries her hands off on a ridiculously soft dish towel, gazing up at him through her lashes.
“Thanks for coming.” He manages words, thankfully, a flush rising up his neck. He feels as though he’s been caught staring. “It’s nice to be around someone my age.”
She laughs softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it is nice.” She purses her lips.
Steve finds himself straightening his posture as he looks at her, a small grin on his face. “Right.” He shifts to face her. “You’re staying the night?”
“As if I’d leave you alone with all of them.” She smiles, “I’m not evil.”
He breathes out a laugh, nodding along with her words. “‘Course not.” He says. “Perhaps us adults can indulge once the children go to bed then? There is plenty of unloved vintage wine in this house.”
She hums in acknowledgement at the offer, and she swears her face warms a bit as she tilts her head at him. “That would be nice.” The words come out soft, maybe a bit shy. But it has Steve grinning like he’s won the lottery, his head ducking down a bit so he can be closer to her.
Y/N blinks at the proximity, her face warming again as her gaze flicks to his. She’s not blind, and she’s certainly not stupid. Steve has been actively pursuing her for a short while now and she’s been indulgent. Her tiny crush on Steve had imploded a bit once he started pursuing her.
So, she’s not opposed to this. She lets his hand come to her cheek, watches his gaze flit over her face. They’ve kissed before, a couple of times on the dates they’d been on. Yet it always flustered her without fail. But when Steve Harrington ducks to finally, finally kiss her, she tilts her head to the side and absolutely curves him.
Ouch.
He blinks, his face reddening in embarrassment, Steve is pulling back immediately. “Sorry— sorry I thought—”
“No I—” She shakes her head, grabbing his wrist to keep him from going too far. “I want— I mean—” She can’t help but stumble over her words, flustered now as she lets out a nervous laugh. “Sorry.” The words leave her lips once more.
Her nervousness is endearing, and it seems to relax Steve as he lets out a shaky laugh as well. “It’s fine.” He waves it off, shaking his head. “I should’ve asked or…” He nods, a bit awkward, pressing his lips together. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
She shakes her head again, the back of her hand coming to press against her mouth. “No I— I want to.” She admits quietly, almost shy. The words have his eyes widening a bit, lips forming an ‘o’ and then confusion washing over his face.
Steve tilts his head, like a lost puppy. “Then… why…” His voice trails off, awaiting an explanation.
She purses her lips, looking away, a touch embarrassed. “Just… you were smoking.” Comes her quiet mumble. “I don’t… the taste. I don’t like it.”
Oh.
It’s at this moment that Steve feels dirty. Smoking is something he does to relax, he’s never had a problem with it. Not with the smell or the taste. But, she does. Suffice to say, Steve Harrington runs up to his bathroom and washes out his mouth. He changes his clothes and sprays on some cologne before returning to her for his kiss.
Smoking becomes a frequent problem in the blossoming relationship. If he’s just smoked, she’ll never kiss him. Dodging his lips, letting him kiss her cheek instead, she’s found countless strategies to avoid it. He gets it, he does. She has a right to her opinions. He doesn’t complain, never complains. Just pecks her cheek and offers her a sweet smile because that's who he is.
But, Steve hates it.
Not being able to kiss her feels criminal, he can’t deal with it. He’ll be itching for it, staring her down, yearning for her lips on his. But the smoke he’d had earlier that day would hang over his head. And as they get deeper into their not-so-casual dating, his feelings only get worse. He’s aching for his girl and he just can’t have her.
Smoking wouldn’t kill him. But not kissing her? That would kill him. That would end him. So, Steve resolves to quit. He doesn’t mention it to her, just tosses out the pack he’d recently bought and stuffs his light in his glovebox as if that will prevent temptation.
Quitting sucks. He quickly realizes it’s nowhere near as easy as he’d anticipated, the urge to smoke washing over him frequently. The first week without smoking is by far the worse, he vaguely wonders if he has some sort of oral fixation and resolves to buying a jumbo pack of lollipops in an effort to simulate the feeling of a good smoke.
Y/N notices, of course she notices. They’re on the couch at his place, and his knee is bouncing, the lollipop between his lips as the movie plays on the screen. Her head is resting on his shoulder, his arm thrown over the back of the couch behind her. She shifts to look up at him, hand coming to his knee to cease the bouncing. “You good?” She asks, tilting her head at him.
He blinks, gaze flitting down to her hand on his knee, he hadn’t even noticed his own restlessness. Steve simply shoots her a smile and a shrug, “fine.”
She hums, gently squeezing his knee. “You sure?” She asks, voice gentle.
He nods, albeit a bit absently. She hums in acknowledgement, her brows a bit furrowed. When she sits up and straightens her posture a bit, he takes that as his cue to sit up as well— facing her on the couch now. “‘M good. Promise.” He says, shooting her a sweet smile.
She accepts his answer, her hand on his knee sliding up to his thigh as she looks at him through her lashes and— oh.
This. This makes it all worth it. She looks at him like she wants him, and suddenly he’s taking the lollipop from between his lips and letting it rest on the wrapper he’d left out on the coffee table. This time when he dips his head down to kiss her— she meets him halfway, her eyes fluttering shut. Eager and sweet, her lips press to his, her hand coming to his cheek while his goes to her nape. A content hum escapes her.
When Steve doesn’t smoke, she kisses him all the time. She’ll initiate affection left and right. He loves it. Adores it. Needs it. All thoughts of the smoke he’d been aching for are gone, replaced by her her her. All her. The only thing he aches for now is her. It’s silly how quickly she wipes his mind clean of all other thoughts, but Steve doesn’t mind at all. When she kisses him, he feels wanted, and that’s all that matters.
Steve pulls away to speak, but her lips are chasing his and god who is he to deny her? Immediately, he kisses back, just as eager as she is. The hand on her nape tightening just a bit. “C’mere.” He murmurs against her lips, hand finding her hip to tug her closer. A soft giggle escapes her and their lips finally break apart as she shifts, slipping into his lap easily. He hums contentedly, hands sliding to her hips, moving up and down absentmindedly. “Pretty girl.”
She smiles at his compliments, shifting a bit to get comfortable in his lap, her knees bracket his sides and dig into the couch cushions. Her hand slides to his hair, gently tugging at the strands in a way that has him letting out a sharp exhale. “You taste good.” She remarks softly, just a bit shy. “Sweet.”
Steve thinks he might die. He was wrong. She’s gonna kill him.
He leans forward to kiss her again, instantly deciding his lips are never touching another cigarette again, it’s an easy conclusion to reach when she feels like this. Steve swears he’s in heaven. He’s a simple guy after all, he likes kissing. It’s nice and intimate, offering a sense of closeness he yearns for.
This time, she pulls back, hands sliding to his shoulders, she tilts her head at him. “You sure you’re alright?” She dips her head down to nose at his jaw affectionately, his hand coming to scratch at her scalp in response.
“Yeah.” He breathes out, and Steve finds himself pursing his lips. When she pulls back to look at him, rather unconvinced, his hand comes up to rub his jaw. “Just… I just wanted to smoke.” He admits.
Y/N blinks. “Oh.” She sounds a bit disappointed, probably because smoking means no more indulging in him. “Do you… not have a light?”
He shakes his head, and he finds himself starting to feel antsy again. “Nah, I just— I’m not doing that anymore.”
“Not… smoking anymore?”
He nods in confirmation.
“Oh.” She says again, but this time she smiles a bit. “Why not?”
He shrugs, nonchalant, like it doesn’t matter at all. “You don’t like it.” And she blinks, staring at him for a moment, registering his words. He’s quitting smoking because she doesn’t like it?
Ah. She swears her face heats up at the thought, she flusters a bit, sitting up a tad straighter. “So, you quit?”
“So, I quit.” He lets his head fall back onto the couch with a sigh. “Or at least I’m trying.” He murmurs, lifting his head to look at her again.
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and his thumb immediately comes to gently pull it free. “That’s kinda romantic.” She remarks, gaze flitting back to his lips again.
At this, he grins, “is it?” Steve leans forward to peck her lips again, this kiss far more chaste than the previous one. The type of kiss he gives her just because he can. “Just wanna make sure I can kiss you all the time.”
She giggles, pleased. “Yeah?” She leans forward to knock her nose against his, eyes lidded.
“Yeah.” He breathes out.
She kisses him again, her hand sliding to his nape to hold him steady. Her head tilts to further deepen the kiss and— oh. That’s her tongue. He can feel her tongue on his lips, a silent request for them to part. Okay. Okay he can do that. Yes. Immediately, his lips part, letting her explore his mouth. Steve is pretty sure his brain starts to melt as he grips her hips to tug her closer. He tastes good. Better, knowing that the taste of smoke will soon be a distant memory. His recent lollipop addiction has him tasting like candy though, not that she minds.
When she finally pulls back, satisfied, Steve decides it’s his turn to have fun. His hand coming to her jaw to hold her firmly, a soft whine escapes her as he presses his tongue into her mouth this time. Though she’s happy to let him, reveling in his affections.
Yes. Quitting smoking is easily the best choice Steve Harrington has ever made.
Note: lowk my fave thing i have written also i yearn for requests lowk
note2: I FORGOT TO ADD TAGS THE FIRST TIME I POSTED
feel free to tip ☕️ — always appreciated, never expected 💛
Summary: Steve has only one vice: smoking. Y/N hates it and refuses to kiss him when he smokes. Naturally, Steve quits smoking.
Warnings: Use of Y/N, Fluff, Cursing, (French) Kissing, Smoking lol, Making Out, the tiniest bit of second hand embarrassment
Word Count: 2.7K
Masterlist
Steve Harrington has few vices. Admittedly, that’s a more recent development. Since reforming his entire personality after many near-death experiences— he’s been forced to reflect on past behavior and change. Overall, a great experience but… it didn’t mean he had to give up all his vices.
He likes to smoke.
It’s a good stress reliever, simple and easy. All he needs is a pack of cigarettes and a light, and he’s good to go. Yeah, he’s heard it might not be the most healthy but it wouldn’t kill him. He’s encountered things that could kill him— a tiny cigarette wouldn’t be the thing to make him kick the bucket just yet.
Steve steps outside, away from the kids and everyone else. Reaching into his pocket to fish out the pack of cigarettes, he picks one from the box and brings it to his lips. Once he flicks open his lighter, he’s quick to light the bud. His eyes flutter shut as he inhales the smoke, taking the cigarette from his lips to puff it out with a sigh.
His smoke breaks are brief, and not too frequent. He stamps out the cigarette and tosses it in the small trash can at the entryway before stepping back inside. The kids don’t notice his brief absence, too absorbed in the movie he’d brought for them from Family Video.
Y/N notices though, she always does. She’s meandering in the kitchen of the Harrington House, unnecessarily large and needlessly empty, washing dishes from earlier this evening. Steve nods to her awkwardly, a small smile on his face. “I can do that.” He offers immediately, waving her off, his voice a bit hushed as he hears the kids roar in laughter in the other room.
She shakes her head. “You’re already hosting, I can wash the dishes. It’s the least I can do.”
He steps closer, reaching out to grab one of dishes she’d placed onto the rack to help with drying it at least. Though she pauses for a moment, only the sound of the water running in the kitchen, Y/N can’t help but scrunch her nose. “Did you smoke?” She asks.
Steve blinks, looking at her, he offers a bashful smile. “Ah, yes I did.”
She only hums, clearing her throat. “That stuff is bad for you.” Comes her quiet murmur as she resumes scrubbing the dishes.
He breathes out a laugh and nods along. “So I’ve heard.”
“Smells bad, too.” She adds quietly, looking up at him for a moment before averting her gaze back to the dishes. The comment has Steve’s smile fading a bit, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he hums in acknowledgement.
Y/N hates when Steve smokes.
For a lot of reasons. The smell being one of them. Typically, Steve smells… good. As embarrassing as it is for her to admit, he takes care of himself, he’s always been pretty hygienic. With all the products he uses and the time he spends making himself look good, he has a nice scent. But, the smoke clings to his clothes, to his skin, to his breath. It’s not a pleasant smell. It’s the type of thing that makes her wrinkle her nose and step the tiniest bit away.
It’s also unhealthy. All signs point to long term smoking as a factor in a myriad of health problems, yet Steve smokes anyways. She doesn’t ask him about it often, he’s only offhandedly mentioned it as something that relaxes him.
There’s the taste, too. Y/N had only tried smoking once, a social thing really. But the taste had been enough to throw her off and make it a one time thing. It lingers on your tongue, gross and pungent. There’s no appeal to it.
She pushes those thoughts away as she focuses her attention on the dishes and not the man next to her and his singular, awful vice.
The Harrington House, empty as ever, is home to the party’s more indulgent operations. Beyond movie nights, there are pool nights and study nights and board game nights. His house is perfect for sleepovers with the countless extra rooms and ridiculous amount of space. Hence the number of teenagers crowded into his living room as of right now, yelling out their reactions at the screen as they watch some new horror movie.
Y/N can count on one hand the number of times she’s been alone with Steve. It’s hard, the party has a bad habit of interrupting their solo time together, but she enjoys herself nonetheless. He’s pleasant, much sweeter than he was in high school. She can certainly see the… appeal of Steve Harrington. Especially ever since they’d started their relationship-thing. She didn’t really have a name for it quite yet, they’d gone on a couple dates on the down-low. It was private, quiet, just between them. But she likes it, likes him.
And right now, the party is… occupied.
Steve clears his throat as they wrap up the dishes, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms as he looks at Y/N. She’s pretty, he thinks. With a sort of elegance about her. He likes to look at her, to observe. She seems to notice this as she dries her hands off on a ridiculously soft dish towel, gazing up at him through her lashes.
“Thanks for coming.” He manages words, thankfully, a flush rising up his neck. He feels as though he’s been caught staring. “It’s nice to be around someone my age.”
She laughs softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it is nice.” She purses her lips.
Steve finds himself straightening his posture as he looks at her, a small grin on his face. “Right.” He shifts to face her. “You’re staying the night?”
“As if I’d leave you alone with all of them.” She smiles, “I’m not evil.”
He breathes out a laugh, nodding along with her words. “‘Course not.” He says. “Perhaps us adults can indulge once the children go to bed then? There is plenty of unloved vintage wine in this house.”
She hums in acknowledgement at the offer, and she swears her face warms a bit as she tilts her head at him. “That would be nice.” The words come out soft, maybe a bit shy. But it has Steve grinning like he’s won the lottery, his head ducking down a bit so he can be closer to her.
Y/N blinks at the proximity, her face warming again as her gaze flicks to his. She’s not blind, and she’s certainly not stupid. Steve has been actively pursuing her for a short while now and she’s been indulgent. Her tiny crush on Steve had imploded a bit once he started pursuing her.
So, she’s not opposed to this. She lets his hand come to her cheek, watches his gaze flit over her face. They’ve kissed before, a couple of times on the dates they’d been on. Yet it always flustered her without fail. But when Steve Harrington ducks to finally, finally kiss her, she tilts her head to the side and absolutely curves him.
Ouch.
He blinks, his face reddening in embarrassment, Steve is pulling back immediately. “Sorry— sorry I thought—”
“No I—” She shakes her head, grabbing his wrist to keep him from going too far. “I want— I mean—” She can’t help but stumble over her words, flustered now as she lets out a nervous laugh. “Sorry.” The words leave her lips once more.
Her nervousness is endearing, and it seems to relax Steve as he lets out a shaky laugh as well. “It’s fine.” He waves it off, shaking his head. “I should’ve asked or…” He nods, a bit awkward, pressing his lips together. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
She shakes her head again, the back of her hand coming to press against her mouth. “No I— I want to.” She admits quietly, almost shy. The words have his eyes widening a bit, lips forming an ‘o’ and then confusion washing over his face.
Steve tilts his head, like a lost puppy. “Then… why…” His voice trails off, awaiting an explanation.
She purses her lips, looking away, a touch embarrassed. “Just… you were smoking.” Comes her quiet mumble. “I don’t… the taste. I don’t like it.”
Oh.
It’s at this moment that Steve feels dirty. Smoking is something he does to relax, he’s never had a problem with it. Not with the smell or the taste. But, she does. Suffice to say, Steve Harrington runs up to his bathroom and washes out his mouth. He changes his clothes and sprays on some cologne before returning to her for his kiss.
Smoking becomes a frequent problem in the blossoming relationship. If he’s just smoked, she’ll never kiss him. Dodging his lips, letting him kiss her cheek instead, she’s found countless strategies to avoid it. He gets it, he does. She has a right to her opinions. He doesn’t complain, never complains. Just pecks her cheek and offers her a sweet smile because that's who he is.
But, Steve hates it.
Not being able to kiss her feels criminal, he can’t deal with it. He’ll be itching for it, staring her down, yearning for her lips on his. But the smoke he’d had earlier that day would hang over his head. And as they get deeper into their not-so-casual dating, his feelings only get worse. He’s aching for his girl and he just can’t have her.
Smoking wouldn’t kill him. But not kissing her? That would kill him. That would end him. So, Steve resolves to quit. He doesn’t mention it to her, just tosses out the pack he’d recently bought and stuffs his light in his glovebox as if that will prevent temptation.
Quitting sucks. He quickly realizes it’s nowhere near as easy as he’d anticipated, the urge to smoke washing over him frequently. The first week without smoking is by far the worse, he vaguely wonders if he has some sort of oral fixation and resolves to buying a jumbo pack of lollipops in an effort to simulate the feeling of a good smoke.
Y/N notices, of course she notices. They’re on the couch at his place, and his knee is bouncing, the lollipop between his lips as the movie plays on the screen. Her head is resting on his shoulder, his arm thrown over the back of the couch behind her. She shifts to look up at him, hand coming to his knee to cease the bouncing. “You good?” She asks, tilting her head at him.
He blinks, gaze flitting down to her hand on his knee, he hadn’t even noticed his own restlessness. Steve simply shoots her a smile and a shrug, “fine.”
She hums, gently squeezing his knee. “You sure?” She asks, voice gentle.
He nods, albeit a bit absently. She hums in acknowledgement, her brows a bit furrowed. When she sits up and straightens her posture a bit, he takes that as his cue to sit up as well— facing her on the couch now. “‘M good. Promise.” He says, shooting her a sweet smile.
She accepts his answer, her hand on his knee sliding up to his thigh as she looks at him through her lashes and— oh.
This. This makes it all worth it. She looks at him like she wants him, and suddenly he’s taking the lollipop from between his lips and letting it rest on the wrapper he’d left out on the coffee table. This time when he dips his head down to kiss her— she meets him halfway, her eyes fluttering shut. Eager and sweet, her lips press to his, her hand coming to his cheek while his goes to her nape. A content hum escapes her.
When Steve doesn’t smoke, she kisses him all the time. She’ll initiate affection left and right. He loves it. Adores it. Needs it. All thoughts of the smoke he’d been aching for are gone, replaced by her her her. All her. The only thing he aches for now is her. It’s silly how quickly she wipes his mind clean of all other thoughts, but Steve doesn’t mind at all. When she kisses him, he feels wanted, and that’s all that matters.
Steve pulls away to speak, but her lips are chasing his and god who is he to deny her? Immediately, he kisses back, just as eager as she is. The hand on her nape tightening just a bit. “C’mere.” He murmurs against her lips, hand finding her hip to tug her closer. A soft giggle escapes her and their lips finally break apart as she shifts, slipping into his lap easily. He hums contentedly, hands sliding to her hips, moving up and down absentmindedly. “Pretty girl.”
She smiles at his compliments, shifting a bit to get comfortable in his lap, her knees bracket his sides and dig into the couch cushions. Her hand slides to his hair, gently tugging at the strands in a way that has him letting out a sharp exhale. “You taste good.” She remarks softly, just a bit shy. “Sweet.”
Steve thinks he might die. He was wrong. She’s gonna kill him.
He leans forward to kiss her again, instantly deciding his lips are never touching another cigarette again, it’s an easy conclusion to reach when she feels like this. Steve swears he’s in heaven. He’s a simple guy after all, he likes kissing. It’s nice and intimate, offering a sense of closeness he yearns for.
This time, she pulls back, hands sliding to his shoulders, she tilts her head at him. “You sure you’re alright?” She dips her head down to nose at his jaw affectionately, his hand coming to scratch at her scalp in response.
“Yeah.” He breathes out, and Steve finds himself pursing his lips. When she pulls back to look at him, rather unconvinced, his hand comes up to rub his jaw. “Just… I just wanted to smoke.” He admits.
Y/N blinks. “Oh.” She sounds a bit disappointed, probably because smoking means no more indulging in him. “Do you… not have a light?”
He shakes his head, and he finds himself starting to feel antsy again. “Nah, I just— I’m not doing that anymore.”
“Not… smoking anymore?”
He nods in confirmation.
“Oh.” She says again, but this time she smiles a bit. “Why not?”
He shrugs, nonchalant, like it doesn’t matter at all. “You don’t like it.” And she blinks, staring at him for a moment, registering his words. He’s quitting smoking because she doesn’t like it?
Ah. She swears her face heats up at the thought, she flusters a bit, sitting up a tad straighter. “So, you quit?”
“So, I quit.” He lets his head fall back onto the couch with a sigh. “Or at least I’m trying.” He murmurs, lifting his head to look at her again.
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and his thumb immediately comes to gently pull it free. “That’s kinda romantic.” She remarks, gaze flitting back to his lips again.
At this, he grins, “is it?” Steve leans forward to peck her lips again, this kiss far more chaste than the previous one. The type of kiss he gives her just because he can. “Just wanna make sure I can kiss you all the time.”
She giggles, pleased. “Yeah?” She leans forward to knock her nose against his, eyes lidded.
“Yeah.” He breathes out.
She kisses him again, her hand sliding to his nape to hold him steady. Her head tilts to further deepen the kiss and— oh. That’s her tongue. He can feel her tongue on his lips, a silent request for them to part. Okay. Okay he can do that. Yes. Immediately, his lips part, letting her explore his mouth. Steve is pretty sure his brain starts to melt as he grips her hips to tug her closer. He tastes good. Better, knowing that the taste of smoke will soon be a distant memory. His recent lollipop addiction has him tasting like candy though, not that she minds.
When she finally pulls back, satisfied, Steve decides it’s his turn to have fun. His hand coming to her jaw to hold her firmly, a soft whine escapes her as he presses his tongue into her mouth this time. Though she’s happy to let him, reveling in his affections.
Yes. Quitting smoking is easily the best choice Steve Harrington has ever made.
Note: lowk my fave thing i have written also i yearn for requests lowk
note2: I FORGOT TO ADD TAGS THE FIRST TIME I POSTED
feel free to tip ☕️ — always appreciated, never expected 💛
Summary: Steve has only one vice: smoking. Y/N hates it and refuses to kiss him when he smokes. Naturally, Steve quits smoking.
Warnings: Use of Y/N, Fluff, Cursing, (French) Kissing, Smoking lol, Making Out, the tiniest bit of second hand embarrassment
Word Count: 2.7K
Masterlist
Steve Harrington has few vices. Admittedly, that’s a more recent development. Since reforming his entire personality after many near-death experiences— he’s been forced to reflect on past behavior and change. Overall, a great experience but… it didn’t mean he had to give up all his vices.
He likes to smoke.
It’s a good stress reliever, simple and easy. All he needs is a pack of cigarettes and a light, and he’s good to go. Yeah, he’s heard it might not be the most healthy but it wouldn’t kill him. He’s encountered things that could kill him— a tiny cigarette wouldn’t be the thing to make him kick the bucket just yet.
Steve steps outside, away from the kids and everyone else. Reaching into his pocket to fish out the pack of cigarettes, he picks one from the box and brings it to his lips. Once he flicks open his lighter, he’s quick to light the bud. His eyes flutter shut as he inhales the smoke, taking the cigarette from his lips to puff it out with a sigh.
His smoke breaks are brief, and not too frequent. He stamps out the cigarette and tosses it in the small trash can at the entryway before stepping back inside. The kids don’t notice his brief absence, too absorbed in the movie he’d brought for them from Family Video.
Y/N notices though, she always does. She’s meandering in the kitchen of the Harrington House, unnecessarily large and needlessly empty, washing dishes from earlier this evening. Steve nods to her awkwardly, a small smile on his face. “I can do that.” He offers immediately, waving her off, his voice a bit hushed as he hears the kids roar in laughter in the other room.
She shakes her head. “You’re already hosting, I can wash the dishes. It’s the least I can do.”
He steps closer, reaching out to grab one of dishes she’d placed onto the rack to help with drying it at least. Though she pauses for a moment, only the sound of the water running in the kitchen, Y/N can’t help but scrunch her nose. “Did you smoke?” She asks.
Steve blinks, looking at her, he offers a bashful smile. “Ah, yes I did.”
She only hums, clearing her throat. “That stuff is bad for you.” Comes her quiet murmur as she resumes scrubbing the dishes.
He breathes out a laugh and nods along. “So I’ve heard.”
“Smells bad, too.” She adds quietly, looking up at him for a moment before averting her gaze back to the dishes. The comment has Steve’s smile fading a bit, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he hums in acknowledgement.
Y/N hates when Steve smokes.
For a lot of reasons. The smell being one of them. Typically, Steve smells… good. As embarrassing as it is for her to admit, he takes care of himself, he’s always been pretty hygienic. With all the products he uses and the time he spends making himself look good, he has a nice scent. But, the smoke clings to his clothes, to his skin, to his breath. It’s not a pleasant smell. It’s the type of thing that makes her wrinkle her nose and step the tiniest bit away.
It’s also unhealthy. All signs point to long term smoking as a factor in a myriad of health problems, yet Steve smokes anyways. She doesn’t ask him about it often, he’s only offhandedly mentioned it as something that relaxes him.
There’s the taste, too. Y/N had only tried smoking once, a social thing really. But the taste had been enough to throw her off and make it a one time thing. It lingers on your tongue, gross and pungent. There’s no appeal to it.
She pushes those thoughts away as she focuses her attention on the dishes and not the man next to her and his singular, awful vice.
The Harrington House, empty as ever, is home to the party’s more indulgent operations. Beyond movie nights, there are pool nights and study nights and board game nights. His house is perfect for sleepovers with the countless extra rooms and ridiculous amount of space. Hence the number of teenagers crowded into his living room as of right now, yelling out their reactions at the screen as they watch some new horror movie.
Y/N can count on one hand the number of times she’s been alone with Steve. It’s hard, the party has a bad habit of interrupting their solo time together, but she enjoys herself nonetheless. He’s pleasant, much sweeter than he was in high school. She can certainly see the… appeal of Steve Harrington. Especially ever since they’d started their relationship-thing. She didn’t really have a name for it quite yet, they’d gone on a couple dates on the down-low. It was private, quiet, just between them. But she likes it, likes him.
And right now, the party is… occupied.
Steve clears his throat as they wrap up the dishes, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms as he looks at Y/N. She’s pretty, he thinks. With a sort of elegance about her. He likes to look at her, to observe. She seems to notice this as she dries her hands off on a ridiculously soft dish towel, gazing up at him through her lashes.
“Thanks for coming.” He manages words, thankfully, a flush rising up his neck. He feels as though he’s been caught staring. “It’s nice to be around someone my age.”
She laughs softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it is nice.” She purses her lips.
Steve finds himself straightening his posture as he looks at her, a small grin on his face. “Right.” He shifts to face her. “You’re staying the night?”
“As if I’d leave you alone with all of them.” She smiles, “I’m not evil.”
He breathes out a laugh, nodding along with her words. “‘Course not.” He says. “Perhaps us adults can indulge once the children go to bed then? There is plenty of unloved vintage wine in this house.”
She hums in acknowledgement at the offer, and she swears her face warms a bit as she tilts her head at him. “That would be nice.” The words come out soft, maybe a bit shy. But it has Steve grinning like he’s won the lottery, his head ducking down a bit so he can be closer to her.
Y/N blinks at the proximity, her face warming again as her gaze flicks to his. She’s not blind, and she’s certainly not stupid. Steve has been actively pursuing her for a short while now and she’s been indulgent. Her tiny crush on Steve had imploded a bit once he started pursuing her.
So, she’s not opposed to this. She lets his hand come to her cheek, watches his gaze flit over her face. They’ve kissed before, a couple of times on the dates they’d been on. Yet it always flustered her without fail. But when Steve Harrington ducks to finally, finally kiss her, she tilts her head to the side and absolutely curves him.
Ouch.
He blinks, his face reddening in embarrassment, Steve is pulling back immediately. “Sorry— sorry I thought—”
“No I—” She shakes her head, grabbing his wrist to keep him from going too far. “I want— I mean—” She can’t help but stumble over her words, flustered now as she lets out a nervous laugh. “Sorry.” The words leave her lips once more.
Her nervousness is endearing, and it seems to relax Steve as he lets out a shaky laugh as well. “It’s fine.” He waves it off, shaking his head. “I should’ve asked or…” He nods, a bit awkward, pressing his lips together. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
She shakes her head again, the back of her hand coming to press against her mouth. “No I— I want to.” She admits quietly, almost shy. The words have his eyes widening a bit, lips forming an ‘o’ and then confusion washing over his face.
Steve tilts his head, like a lost puppy. “Then… why…” His voice trails off, awaiting an explanation.
She purses her lips, looking away, a touch embarrassed. “Just… you were smoking.” Comes her quiet mumble. “I don’t… the taste. I don’t like it.”
Oh.
It’s at this moment that Steve feels dirty. Smoking is something he does to relax, he’s never had a problem with it. Not with the smell or the taste. But, she does. Suffice to say, Steve Harrington runs up to his bathroom and washes out his mouth. He changes his clothes and sprays on some cologne before returning to her for his kiss.
Smoking becomes a frequent problem in the blossoming relationship. If he’s just smoked, she’ll never kiss him. Dodging his lips, letting him kiss her cheek instead, she’s found countless strategies to avoid it. He gets it, he does. She has a right to her opinions. He doesn’t complain, never complains. Just pecks her cheek and offers her a sweet smile because that's who he is.
But, Steve hates it.
Not being able to kiss her feels criminal, he can’t deal with it. He’ll be itching for it, staring her down, yearning for her lips on his. But the smoke he’d had earlier that day would hang over his head. And as they get deeper into their not-so-casual dating, his feelings only get worse. He’s aching for his girl and he just can’t have her.
Smoking wouldn’t kill him. But not kissing her? That would kill him. That would end him. So, Steve resolves to quit. He doesn’t mention it to her, just tosses out the pack he’d recently bought and stuffs his light in his glovebox as if that will prevent temptation.
Quitting sucks. He quickly realizes it’s nowhere near as easy as he’d anticipated, the urge to smoke washing over him frequently. The first week without smoking is by far the worse, he vaguely wonders if he has some sort of oral fixation and resolves to buying a jumbo pack of lollipops in an effort to simulate the feeling of a good smoke.
Y/N notices, of course she notices. They’re on the couch at his place, and his knee is bouncing, the lollipop between his lips as the movie plays on the screen. Her head is resting on his shoulder, his arm thrown over the back of the couch behind her. She shifts to look up at him, hand coming to his knee to cease the bouncing. “You good?” She asks, tilting her head at him.
He blinks, gaze flitting down to her hand on his knee, he hadn’t even noticed his own restlessness. Steve simply shoots her a smile and a shrug, “fine.”
She hums, gently squeezing his knee. “You sure?” She asks, voice gentle.
He nods, albeit a bit absently. She hums in acknowledgement, her brows a bit furrowed. When she sits up and straightens her posture a bit, he takes that as his cue to sit up as well— facing her on the couch now. “‘M good. Promise.” He says, shooting her a sweet smile.
She accepts his answer, her hand on his knee sliding up to his thigh as she looks at him through her lashes and— oh.
This. This makes it all worth it. She looks at him like she wants him, and suddenly he’s taking the lollipop from between his lips and letting it rest on the wrapper he’d left out on the coffee table. This time when he dips his head down to kiss her— she meets him halfway, her eyes fluttering shut. Eager and sweet, her lips press to his, her hand coming to his cheek while his goes to her nape. A content hum escapes her.
When Steve doesn’t smoke, she kisses him all the time. She’ll initiate affection left and right. He loves it. Adores it. Needs it. All thoughts of the smoke he’d been aching for are gone, replaced by her her her. All her. The only thing he aches for now is her. It’s silly how quickly she wipes his mind clean of all other thoughts, but Steve doesn’t mind at all. When she kisses him, he feels wanted, and that’s all that matters.
Steve pulls away to speak, but her lips are chasing his and god who is he to deny her? Immediately, he kisses back, just as eager as she is. The hand on her nape tightening just a bit. “C’mere.” He murmurs against her lips, hand finding her hip to tug her closer. A soft giggle escapes her and their lips finally break apart as she shifts, slipping into his lap easily. He hums contentedly, hands sliding to her hips, moving up and down absentmindedly. “Pretty girl.”
She smiles at his compliments, shifting a bit to get comfortable in his lap, her knees bracket his sides and dig into the couch cushions. Her hand slides to his hair, gently tugging at the strands in a way that has him letting out a sharp exhale. “You taste good.” She remarks softly, just a bit shy. “Sweet.”
Steve thinks he might die. He was wrong. She’s gonna kill him.
He leans forward to kiss her again, instantly deciding his lips are never touching another cigarette again, it’s an easy conclusion to reach when she feels like this. Steve swears he’s in heaven. He’s a simple guy after all, he likes kissing. It’s nice and intimate, offering a sense of closeness he yearns for.
This time, she pulls back, hands sliding to his shoulders, she tilts her head at him. “You sure you’re alright?” She dips her head down to nose at his jaw affectionately, his hand coming to scratch at her scalp in response.
“Yeah.” He breathes out, and Steve finds himself pursing his lips. When she pulls back to look at him, rather unconvinced, his hand comes up to rub his jaw. “Just… I just wanted to smoke.” He admits.
Y/N blinks. “Oh.” She sounds a bit disappointed, probably because smoking means no more indulging in him. “Do you… not have a light?”
He shakes his head, and he finds himself starting to feel antsy again. “Nah, I just— I’m not doing that anymore.”
“Not… smoking anymore?”
He nods in confirmation.
“Oh.” She says again, but this time she smiles a bit. “Why not?”
He shrugs, nonchalant, like it doesn’t matter at all. “You don’t like it.” And she blinks, staring at him for a moment, registering his words. He’s quitting smoking because she doesn’t like it?
Ah. She swears her face heats up at the thought, she flusters a bit, sitting up a tad straighter. “So, you quit?”
“So, I quit.” He lets his head fall back onto the couch with a sigh. “Or at least I’m trying.” He murmurs, lifting his head to look at her again.
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and his thumb immediately comes to gently pull it free. “That’s kinda romantic.” She remarks, gaze flitting back to his lips again.
At this, he grins, “is it?” Steve leans forward to peck her lips again, this kiss far more chaste than the previous one. The type of kiss he gives her just because he can. “Just wanna make sure I can kiss you all the time.”
She giggles, pleased. “Yeah?” She leans forward to knock her nose against his, eyes lidded.
“Yeah.” He breathes out.
She kisses him again, her hand sliding to his nape to hold him steady. Her head tilts to further deepen the kiss and— oh. That’s her tongue. He can feel her tongue on his lips, a silent request for them to part. Okay. Okay he can do that. Yes. Immediately, his lips part, letting her explore his mouth. Steve is pretty sure his brain starts to melt as he grips her hips to tug her closer. He tastes good. Better, knowing that the taste of smoke will soon be a distant memory. His recent lollipop addiction has him tasting like candy though, not that she minds.
When she finally pulls back, satisfied, Steve decides it’s his turn to have fun. His hand coming to her jaw to hold her firmly, a soft whine escapes her as he presses his tongue into her mouth this time. Though she’s happy to let him, reveling in his affections.
Yes. Quitting smoking is easily the best choice Steve Harrington has ever made.
Note: lowk my fave thing i have written also i yearn for requests lowk
note2: I FORGOT TO ADD TAGS THE FIRST TIME I POSTED
feel free to tip ☕️ — always appreciated, never expected 💛
Summary: Steve has only one vice: smoking. Y/N hates it and refuses to kiss him when he smokes. Naturally, Steve quits smoking.
Warnings: Use of Y/N, Fluff, Cursing, (French) Kissing, Smoking lol, Making Out, the tiniest bit of second hand embarrassment
Word Count: 2.7K
Masterlist
Steve Harrington has few vices. Admittedly, that’s a more recent development. Since reforming his entire personality after many near-death experiences— he’s been forced to reflect on past behavior and change. Overall, a great experience but… it didn’t mean he had to give up all his vices.
He likes to smoke.
It’s a good stress reliever, simple and easy. All he needs is a pack of cigarettes and a light, and he’s good to go. Yeah, he’s heard it might not be the most healthy but it wouldn’t kill him. He’s encountered things that could kill him— a tiny cigarette wouldn’t be the thing to make him kick the bucket just yet.
Steve steps outside, away from the kids and everyone else. Reaching into his pocket to fish out the pack of cigarettes, he picks one from the box and brings it to his lips. Once he flicks open his lighter, he’s quick to light the bud. His eyes flutter shut as he inhales the smoke, taking the cigarette from his lips to puff it out with a sigh.
His smoke breaks are brief, and not too frequent. He stamps out the cigarette and tosses it in the small trash can at the entryway before stepping back inside. The kids don’t notice his brief absence, too absorbed in the movie he’d brought for them from Family Video.
Y/N notices though, she always does. She’s meandering in the kitchen of the Harrington House, unnecessarily large and needlessly empty, washing dishes from earlier this evening. Steve nods to her awkwardly, a small smile on his face. “I can do that.” He offers immediately, waving her off, his voice a bit hushed as he hears the kids roar in laughter in the other room.
She shakes her head. “You’re already hosting, I can wash the dishes. It’s the least I can do.”
He steps closer, reaching out to grab one of dishes she’d placed onto the rack to help with drying it at least. Though she pauses for a moment, only the sound of the water running in the kitchen, Y/N can’t help but scrunch her nose. “Did you smoke?” She asks.
Steve blinks, looking at her, he offers a bashful smile. “Ah, yes I did.”
She only hums, clearing her throat. “That stuff is bad for you.” Comes her quiet murmur as she resumes scrubbing the dishes.
He breathes out a laugh and nods along. “So I’ve heard.”
“Smells bad, too.” She adds quietly, looking up at him for a moment before averting her gaze back to the dishes. The comment has Steve’s smile fading a bit, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he hums in acknowledgement.
Y/N hates when Steve smokes.
For a lot of reasons. The smell being one of them. Typically, Steve smells… good. As embarrassing as it is for her to admit, he takes care of himself, he’s always been pretty hygienic. With all the products he uses and the time he spends making himself look good, he has a nice scent. But, the smoke clings to his clothes, to his skin, to his breath. It’s not a pleasant smell. It’s the type of thing that makes her wrinkle her nose and step the tiniest bit away.
It’s also unhealthy. All signs point to long term smoking as a factor in a myriad of health problems, yet Steve smokes anyways. She doesn’t ask him about it often, he’s only offhandedly mentioned it as something that relaxes him.
There’s the taste, too. Y/N had only tried smoking once, a social thing really. But the taste had been enough to throw her off and make it a one time thing. It lingers on your tongue, gross and pungent. There’s no appeal to it.
She pushes those thoughts away as she focuses her attention on the dishes and not the man next to her and his singular, awful vice.
The Harrington House, empty as ever, is home to the party’s more indulgent operations. Beyond movie nights, there are pool nights and study nights and board game nights. His house is perfect for sleepovers with the countless extra rooms and ridiculous amount of space. Hence the number of teenagers crowded into his living room as of right now, yelling out their reactions at the screen as they watch some new horror movie.
Y/N can count on one hand the number of times she’s been alone with Steve. It’s hard, the party has a bad habit of interrupting their solo time together, but she enjoys herself nonetheless. He’s pleasant, much sweeter than he was in high school. She can certainly see the… appeal of Steve Harrington. Especially ever since they’d started their relationship-thing. She didn’t really have a name for it quite yet, they’d gone on a couple dates on the down-low. It was private, quiet, just between them. But she likes it, likes him.
And right now, the party is… occupied.
Steve clears his throat as they wrap up the dishes, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms as he looks at Y/N. She’s pretty, he thinks. With a sort of elegance about her. He likes to look at her, to observe. She seems to notice this as she dries her hands off on a ridiculously soft dish towel, gazing up at him through her lashes.
“Thanks for coming.” He manages words, thankfully, a flush rising up his neck. He feels as though he’s been caught staring. “It’s nice to be around someone my age.”
She laughs softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it is nice.” She purses her lips.
Steve finds himself straightening his posture as he looks at her, a small grin on his face. “Right.” He shifts to face her. “You’re staying the night?”
“As if I’d leave you alone with all of them.” She smiles, “I’m not evil.”
He breathes out a laugh, nodding along with her words. “‘Course not.” He says. “Perhaps us adults can indulge once the children go to bed then? There is plenty of unloved vintage wine in this house.”
She hums in acknowledgement at the offer, and she swears her face warms a bit as she tilts her head at him. “That would be nice.” The words come out soft, maybe a bit shy. But it has Steve grinning like he’s won the lottery, his head ducking down a bit so he can be closer to her.
Y/N blinks at the proximity, her face warming again as her gaze flicks to his. She’s not blind, and she’s certainly not stupid. Steve has been actively pursuing her for a short while now and she’s been indulgent. Her tiny crush on Steve had imploded a bit once he started pursuing her.
So, she’s not opposed to this. She lets his hand come to her cheek, watches his gaze flit over her face. They’ve kissed before, a couple of times on the dates they’d been on. Yet it always flustered her without fail. But when Steve Harrington ducks to finally, finally kiss her, she tilts her head to the side and absolutely curves him.
Ouch.
He blinks, his face reddening in embarrassment, Steve is pulling back immediately. “Sorry— sorry I thought—”
“No I—” She shakes her head, grabbing his wrist to keep him from going too far. “I want— I mean—” She can’t help but stumble over her words, flustered now as she lets out a nervous laugh. “Sorry.” The words leave her lips once more.
Her nervousness is endearing, and it seems to relax Steve as he lets out a shaky laugh as well. “It’s fine.” He waves it off, shaking his head. “I should’ve asked or…” He nods, a bit awkward, pressing his lips together. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
She shakes her head again, the back of her hand coming to press against her mouth. “No I— I want to.” She admits quietly, almost shy. The words have his eyes widening a bit, lips forming an ‘o’ and then confusion washing over his face.
Steve tilts his head, like a lost puppy. “Then… why…” His voice trails off, awaiting an explanation.
She purses her lips, looking away, a touch embarrassed. “Just… you were smoking.” Comes her quiet mumble. “I don’t… the taste. I don’t like it.”
Oh.
It’s at this moment that Steve feels dirty. Smoking is something he does to relax, he’s never had a problem with it. Not with the smell or the taste. But, she does. Suffice to say, Steve Harrington runs up to his bathroom and washes out his mouth. He changes his clothes and sprays on some cologne before returning to her for his kiss.
Smoking becomes a frequent problem in the blossoming relationship. If he’s just smoked, she’ll never kiss him. Dodging his lips, letting him kiss her cheek instead, she’s found countless strategies to avoid it. He gets it, he does. She has a right to her opinions. He doesn’t complain, never complains. Just pecks her cheek and offers her a sweet smile because that's who he is.
But, Steve hates it.
Not being able to kiss her feels criminal, he can’t deal with it. He’ll be itching for it, staring her down, yearning for her lips on his. But the smoke he’d had earlier that day would hang over his head. And as they get deeper into their not-so-casual dating, his feelings only get worse. He’s aching for his girl and he just can’t have her.
Smoking wouldn’t kill him. But not kissing her? That would kill him. That would end him. So, Steve resolves to quit. He doesn’t mention it to her, just tosses out the pack he’d recently bought and stuffs his light in his glovebox as if that will prevent temptation.
Quitting sucks. He quickly realizes it’s nowhere near as easy as he’d anticipated, the urge to smoke washing over him frequently. The first week without smoking is by far the worse, he vaguely wonders if he has some sort of oral fixation and resolves to buying a jumbo pack of lollipops in an effort to simulate the feeling of a good smoke.
Y/N notices, of course she notices. They’re on the couch at his place, and his knee is bouncing, the lollipop between his lips as the movie plays on the screen. Her head is resting on his shoulder, his arm thrown over the back of the couch behind her. She shifts to look up at him, hand coming to his knee to cease the bouncing. “You good?” She asks, tilting her head at him.
He blinks, gaze flitting down to her hand on his knee, he hadn’t even noticed his own restlessness. Steve simply shoots her a smile and a shrug, “fine.”
She hums, gently squeezing his knee. “You sure?” She asks, voice gentle.
He nods, albeit a bit absently. She hums in acknowledgement, her brows a bit furrowed. When she sits up and straightens her posture a bit, he takes that as his cue to sit up as well— facing her on the couch now. “‘M good. Promise.” He says, shooting her a sweet smile.
She accepts his answer, her hand on his knee sliding up to his thigh as she looks at him through her lashes and— oh.
This. This makes it all worth it. She looks at him like she wants him, and suddenly he’s taking the lollipop from between his lips and letting it rest on the wrapper he’d left out on the coffee table. This time when he dips his head down to kiss her— she meets him halfway, her eyes fluttering shut. Eager and sweet, her lips press to his, her hand coming to his cheek while his goes to her nape. A content hum escapes her.
When Steve doesn’t smoke, she kisses him all the time. She’ll initiate affection left and right. He loves it. Adores it. Needs it. All thoughts of the smoke he’d been aching for are gone, replaced by her her her. All her. The only thing he aches for now is her. It’s silly how quickly she wipes his mind clean of all other thoughts, but Steve doesn’t mind at all. When she kisses him, he feels wanted, and that’s all that matters.
Steve pulls away to speak, but her lips are chasing his and god who is he to deny her? Immediately, he kisses back, just as eager as she is. The hand on her nape tightening just a bit. “C’mere.” He murmurs against her lips, hand finding her hip to tug her closer. A soft giggle escapes her and their lips finally break apart as she shifts, slipping into his lap easily. He hums contentedly, hands sliding to her hips, moving up and down absentmindedly. “Pretty girl.”
She smiles at his compliments, shifting a bit to get comfortable in his lap, her knees bracket his sides and dig into the couch cushions. Her hand slides to his hair, gently tugging at the strands in a way that has him letting out a sharp exhale. “You taste good.” She remarks softly, just a bit shy. “Sweet.”
Steve thinks he might die. He was wrong. She’s gonna kill him.
He leans forward to kiss her again, instantly deciding his lips are never touching another cigarette again, it’s an easy conclusion to reach when she feels like this. Steve swears he’s in heaven. He’s a simple guy after all, he likes kissing. It’s nice and intimate, offering a sense of closeness he yearns for.
This time, she pulls back, hands sliding to his shoulders, she tilts her head at him. “You sure you’re alright?” She dips her head down to nose at his jaw affectionately, his hand coming to scratch at her scalp in response.
“Yeah.” He breathes out, and Steve finds himself pursing his lips. When she pulls back to look at him, rather unconvinced, his hand comes up to rub his jaw. “Just… I just wanted to smoke.” He admits.
Y/N blinks. “Oh.” She sounds a bit disappointed, probably because smoking means no more indulging in him. “Do you… not have a light?”
He shakes his head, and he finds himself starting to feel antsy again. “Nah, I just— I’m not doing that anymore.”
“Not… smoking anymore?”
He nods in confirmation.
“Oh.” She says again, but this time she smiles a bit. “Why not?”
He shrugs, nonchalant, like it doesn’t matter at all. “You don’t like it.” And she blinks, staring at him for a moment, registering his words. He’s quitting smoking because she doesn’t like it?
Ah. She swears her face heats up at the thought, she flusters a bit, sitting up a tad straighter. “So, you quit?”
“So, I quit.” He lets his head fall back onto the couch with a sigh. “Or at least I’m trying.” He murmurs, lifting his head to look at her again.
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and his thumb immediately comes to gently pull it free. “That’s kinda romantic.” She remarks, gaze flitting back to his lips again.
At this, he grins, “is it?” Steve leans forward to peck her lips again, this kiss far more chaste than the previous one. The type of kiss he gives her just because he can. “Just wanna make sure I can kiss you all the time.”
She giggles, pleased. “Yeah?” She leans forward to knock her nose against his, eyes lidded.
“Yeah.” He breathes out.
She kisses him again, her hand sliding to his nape to hold him steady. Her head tilts to further deepen the kiss and— oh. That’s her tongue. He can feel her tongue on his lips, a silent request for them to part. Okay. Okay he can do that. Yes. Immediately, his lips part, letting her explore his mouth. Steve is pretty sure his brain starts to melt as he grips her hips to tug her closer. He tastes good. Better, knowing that the taste of smoke will soon be a distant memory. His recent lollipop addiction has him tasting like candy though, not that she minds.
When she finally pulls back, satisfied, Steve decides it’s his turn to have fun. His hand coming to her jaw to hold her firmly, a soft whine escapes her as he presses his tongue into her mouth this time. Though she’s happy to let him, reveling in his affections.
Yes. Quitting smoking is easily the best choice Steve Harrington has ever made.
Note: lowk my fave thing i have written also i yearn for requests lowk
note2: I FORGOT TO ADD TAGS THE FIRST TIME I POSTED
feel free to tip ☕️ — always appreciated, never expected 💛
Summary: Steve has only one vice: smoking. Y/N hates it and refuses to kiss him when he smokes. Naturally, Steve quits smoking.
Warnings: Use of Y/N, Fluff, Cursing, (French) Kissing, Smoking lol, Making Out, the tiniest bit of second hand embarrassment
Word Count: 2.7K
Masterlist
Steve Harrington has few vices. Admittedly, that’s a more recent development. Since reforming his entire personality after many near-death experiences— he’s been forced to reflect on past behavior and change. Overall, a great experience but… it didn’t mean he had to give up all his vices.
He likes to smoke.
It’s a good stress reliever, simple and easy. All he needs is a pack of cigarettes and a light, and he’s good to go. Yeah, he’s heard it might not be the most healthy but it wouldn’t kill him. He’s encountered things that could kill him— a tiny cigarette wouldn’t be the thing to make him kick the bucket just yet.
Steve steps outside, away from the kids and everyone else. Reaching into his pocket to fish out the pack of cigarettes, he picks one from the box and brings it to his lips. Once he flicks open his lighter, he’s quick to light the bud. His eyes flutter shut as he inhales the smoke, taking the cigarette from his lips to puff it out with a sigh.
His smoke breaks are brief, and not too frequent. He stamps out the cigarette and tosses it in the small trash can at the entryway before stepping back inside. The kids don’t notice his brief absence, too absorbed in the movie he’d brought for them from Family Video.
Y/N notices though, she always does. She’s meandering in the kitchen of the Harrington House, unnecessarily large and needlessly empty, washing dishes from earlier this evening. Steve nods to her awkwardly, a small smile on his face. “I can do that.” He offers immediately, waving her off, his voice a bit hushed as he hears the kids roar in laughter in the other room.
She shakes her head. “You’re already hosting, I can wash the dishes. It’s the least I can do.”
He steps closer, reaching out to grab one of dishes she’d placed onto the rack to help with drying it at least. Though she pauses for a moment, only the sound of the water running in the kitchen, Y/N can’t help but scrunch her nose. “Did you smoke?” She asks.
Steve blinks, looking at her, he offers a bashful smile. “Ah, yes I did.”
She only hums, clearing her throat. “That stuff is bad for you.” Comes her quiet murmur as she resumes scrubbing the dishes.
He breathes out a laugh and nods along. “So I’ve heard.”
“Smells bad, too.” She adds quietly, looking up at him for a moment before averting her gaze back to the dishes. The comment has Steve’s smile fading a bit, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he hums in acknowledgement.
Y/N hates when Steve smokes.
For a lot of reasons. The smell being one of them. Typically, Steve smells… good. As embarrassing as it is for her to admit, he takes care of himself, he’s always been pretty hygienic. With all the products he uses and the time he spends making himself look good, he has a nice scent. But, the smoke clings to his clothes, to his skin, to his breath. It’s not a pleasant smell. It’s the type of thing that makes her wrinkle her nose and step the tiniest bit away.
It’s also unhealthy. All signs point to long term smoking as a factor in a myriad of health problems, yet Steve smokes anyways. She doesn’t ask him about it often, he’s only offhandedly mentioned it as something that relaxes him.
There’s the taste, too. Y/N had only tried smoking once, a social thing really. But the taste had been enough to throw her off and make it a one time thing. It lingers on your tongue, gross and pungent. There’s no appeal to it.
She pushes those thoughts away as she focuses her attention on the dishes and not the man next to her and his singular, awful vice.
The Harrington House, empty as ever, is home to the party’s more indulgent operations. Beyond movie nights, there are pool nights and study nights and board game nights. His house is perfect for sleepovers with the countless extra rooms and ridiculous amount of space. Hence the number of teenagers crowded into his living room as of right now, yelling out their reactions at the screen as they watch some new horror movie.
Y/N can count on one hand the number of times she’s been alone with Steve. It’s hard, the party has a bad habit of interrupting their solo time together, but she enjoys herself nonetheless. He’s pleasant, much sweeter than he was in high school. She can certainly see the… appeal of Steve Harrington. Especially ever since they’d started their relationship-thing. She didn’t really have a name for it quite yet, they’d gone on a couple dates on the down-low. It was private, quiet, just between them. But she likes it, likes him.
And right now, the party is… occupied.
Steve clears his throat as they wrap up the dishes, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms as he looks at Y/N. She’s pretty, he thinks. With a sort of elegance about her. He likes to look at her, to observe. She seems to notice this as she dries her hands off on a ridiculously soft dish towel, gazing up at him through her lashes.
“Thanks for coming.” He manages words, thankfully, a flush rising up his neck. He feels as though he’s been caught staring. “It’s nice to be around someone my age.”
She laughs softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it is nice.” She purses her lips.
Steve finds himself straightening his posture as he looks at her, a small grin on his face. “Right.” He shifts to face her. “You’re staying the night?”
“As if I’d leave you alone with all of them.” She smiles, “I’m not evil.”
He breathes out a laugh, nodding along with her words. “‘Course not.” He says. “Perhaps us adults can indulge once the children go to bed then? There is plenty of unloved vintage wine in this house.”
She hums in acknowledgement at the offer, and she swears her face warms a bit as she tilts her head at him. “That would be nice.” The words come out soft, maybe a bit shy. But it has Steve grinning like he’s won the lottery, his head ducking down a bit so he can be closer to her.
Y/N blinks at the proximity, her face warming again as her gaze flicks to his. She’s not blind, and she’s certainly not stupid. Steve has been actively pursuing her for a short while now and she’s been indulgent. Her tiny crush on Steve had imploded a bit once he started pursuing her.
So, she’s not opposed to this. She lets his hand come to her cheek, watches his gaze flit over her face. They’ve kissed before, a couple of times on the dates they’d been on. Yet it always flustered her without fail. But when Steve Harrington ducks to finally, finally kiss her, she tilts her head to the side and absolutely curves him.
Ouch.
He blinks, his face reddening in embarrassment, Steve is pulling back immediately. “Sorry— sorry I thought—”
“No I—” She shakes her head, grabbing his wrist to keep him from going too far. “I want— I mean—” She can’t help but stumble over her words, flustered now as she lets out a nervous laugh. “Sorry.” The words leave her lips once more.
Her nervousness is endearing, and it seems to relax Steve as he lets out a shaky laugh as well. “It’s fine.” He waves it off, shaking his head. “I should’ve asked or…” He nods, a bit awkward, pressing his lips together. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
She shakes her head again, the back of her hand coming to press against her mouth. “No I— I want to.” She admits quietly, almost shy. The words have his eyes widening a bit, lips forming an ‘o’ and then confusion washing over his face.
Steve tilts his head, like a lost puppy. “Then… why…” His voice trails off, awaiting an explanation.
She purses her lips, looking away, a touch embarrassed. “Just… you were smoking.” Comes her quiet mumble. “I don’t… the taste. I don’t like it.”
Oh.
It’s at this moment that Steve feels dirty. Smoking is something he does to relax, he’s never had a problem with it. Not with the smell or the taste. But, she does. Suffice to say, Steve Harrington runs up to his bathroom and washes out his mouth. He changes his clothes and sprays on some cologne before returning to her for his kiss.
Smoking becomes a frequent problem in the blossoming relationship. If he’s just smoked, she’ll never kiss him. Dodging his lips, letting him kiss her cheek instead, she’s found countless strategies to avoid it. He gets it, he does. She has a right to her opinions. He doesn’t complain, never complains. Just pecks her cheek and offers her a sweet smile because that's who he is.
But, Steve hates it.
Not being able to kiss her feels criminal, he can’t deal with it. He’ll be itching for it, staring her down, yearning for her lips on his. But the smoke he’d had earlier that day would hang over his head. And as they get deeper into their not-so-casual dating, his feelings only get worse. He’s aching for his girl and he just can’t have her.
Smoking wouldn’t kill him. But not kissing her? That would kill him. That would end him. So, Steve resolves to quit. He doesn’t mention it to her, just tosses out the pack he’d recently bought and stuffs his light in his glovebox as if that will prevent temptation.
Quitting sucks. He quickly realizes it’s nowhere near as easy as he’d anticipated, the urge to smoke washing over him frequently. The first week without smoking is by far the worse, he vaguely wonders if he has some sort of oral fixation and resolves to buying a jumbo pack of lollipops in an effort to simulate the feeling of a good smoke.
Y/N notices, of course she notices. They’re on the couch at his place, and his knee is bouncing, the lollipop between his lips as the movie plays on the screen. Her head is resting on his shoulder, his arm thrown over the back of the couch behind her. She shifts to look up at him, hand coming to his knee to cease the bouncing. “You good?” She asks, tilting her head at him.
He blinks, gaze flitting down to her hand on his knee, he hadn’t even noticed his own restlessness. Steve simply shoots her a smile and a shrug, “fine.”
She hums, gently squeezing his knee. “You sure?” She asks, voice gentle.
He nods, albeit a bit absently. She hums in acknowledgement, her brows a bit furrowed. When she sits up and straightens her posture a bit, he takes that as his cue to sit up as well— facing her on the couch now. “‘M good. Promise.” He says, shooting her a sweet smile.
She accepts his answer, her hand on his knee sliding up to his thigh as she looks at him through her lashes and— oh.
This. This makes it all worth it. She looks at him like she wants him, and suddenly he’s taking the lollipop from between his lips and letting it rest on the wrapper he’d left out on the coffee table. This time when he dips his head down to kiss her— she meets him halfway, her eyes fluttering shut. Eager and sweet, her lips press to his, her hand coming to his cheek while his goes to her nape. A content hum escapes her.
When Steve doesn’t smoke, she kisses him all the time. She’ll initiate affection left and right. He loves it. Adores it. Needs it. All thoughts of the smoke he’d been aching for are gone, replaced by her her her. All her. The only thing he aches for now is her. It’s silly how quickly she wipes his mind clean of all other thoughts, but Steve doesn’t mind at all. When she kisses him, he feels wanted, and that’s all that matters.
Steve pulls away to speak, but her lips are chasing his and god who is he to deny her? Immediately, he kisses back, just as eager as she is. The hand on her nape tightening just a bit. “C’mere.” He murmurs against her lips, hand finding her hip to tug her closer. A soft giggle escapes her and their lips finally break apart as she shifts, slipping into his lap easily. He hums contentedly, hands sliding to her hips, moving up and down absentmindedly. “Pretty girl.”
She smiles at his compliments, shifting a bit to get comfortable in his lap, her knees bracket his sides and dig into the couch cushions. Her hand slides to his hair, gently tugging at the strands in a way that has him letting out a sharp exhale. “You taste good.” She remarks softly, just a bit shy. “Sweet.”
Steve thinks he might die. He was wrong. She’s gonna kill him.
He leans forward to kiss her again, instantly deciding his lips are never touching another cigarette again, it’s an easy conclusion to reach when she feels like this. Steve swears he’s in heaven. He’s a simple guy after all, he likes kissing. It’s nice and intimate, offering a sense of closeness he yearns for.
This time, she pulls back, hands sliding to his shoulders, she tilts her head at him. “You sure you’re alright?” She dips her head down to nose at his jaw affectionately, his hand coming to scratch at her scalp in response.
“Yeah.” He breathes out, and Steve finds himself pursing his lips. When she pulls back to look at him, rather unconvinced, his hand comes up to rub his jaw. “Just… I just wanted to smoke.” He admits.
Y/N blinks. “Oh.” She sounds a bit disappointed, probably because smoking means no more indulging in him. “Do you… not have a light?”
He shakes his head, and he finds himself starting to feel antsy again. “Nah, I just— I’m not doing that anymore.”
“Not… smoking anymore?”
He nods in confirmation.
“Oh.” She says again, but this time she smiles a bit. “Why not?”
He shrugs, nonchalant, like it doesn’t matter at all. “You don’t like it.” And she blinks, staring at him for a moment, registering his words. He’s quitting smoking because she doesn’t like it?
Ah. She swears her face heats up at the thought, she flusters a bit, sitting up a tad straighter. “So, you quit?”
“So, I quit.” He lets his head fall back onto the couch with a sigh. “Or at least I’m trying.” He murmurs, lifting his head to look at her again.
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and his thumb immediately comes to gently pull it free. “That’s kinda romantic.” She remarks, gaze flitting back to his lips again.
At this, he grins, “is it?” Steve leans forward to peck her lips again, this kiss far more chaste than the previous one. The type of kiss he gives her just because he can. “Just wanna make sure I can kiss you all the time.”
She giggles, pleased. “Yeah?” She leans forward to knock her nose against his, eyes lidded.
“Yeah.” He breathes out.
She kisses him again, her hand sliding to his nape to hold him steady. Her head tilts to further deepen the kiss and— oh. That’s her tongue. He can feel her tongue on his lips, a silent request for them to part. Okay. Okay he can do that. Yes. Immediately, his lips part, letting her explore his mouth. Steve is pretty sure his brain starts to melt as he grips her hips to tug her closer. He tastes good. Better, knowing that the taste of smoke will soon be a distant memory. His recent lollipop addiction has him tasting like candy though, not that she minds.
When she finally pulls back, satisfied, Steve decides it’s his turn to have fun. His hand coming to her jaw to hold her firmly, a soft whine escapes her as he presses his tongue into her mouth this time. Though she’s happy to let him, reveling in his affections.
Yes. Quitting smoking is easily the best choice Steve Harrington has ever made.
Note: lowk my fave thing i have written also i yearn for requests lowk
note2: I FORGOT TO ADD TAGS THE FIRST TIME I POSTED
feel free to tip ☕️ — always appreciated, never expected 💛
Summary: Steve has only one vice: smoking. Y/N hates it and refuses to kiss him when he smokes. Naturally, Steve quits smoking.
Warnings: Use of Y/N, Fluff, Cursing, (French) Kissing, Smoking lol, Making Out, the tiniest bit of second hand embarrassment
Word Count: 2.7K
Masterlist
Steve Harrington has few vices. Admittedly, that’s a more recent development. Since reforming his entire personality after many near-death experiences— he’s been forced to reflect on past behavior and change. Overall, a great experience but… it didn’t mean he had to give up all his vices.
He likes to smoke.
It’s a good stress reliever, simple and easy. All he needs is a pack of cigarettes and a light, and he’s good to go. Yeah, he’s heard it might not be the most healthy but it wouldn’t kill him. He’s encountered things that could kill him— a tiny cigarette wouldn’t be the thing to make him kick the bucket just yet.
Steve steps outside, away from the kids and everyone else. Reaching into his pocket to fish out the pack of cigarettes, he picks one from the box and brings it to his lips. Once he flicks open his lighter, he’s quick to light the bud. His eyes flutter shut as he inhales the smoke, taking the cigarette from his lips to puff it out with a sigh.
His smoke breaks are brief, and not too frequent. He stamps out the cigarette and tosses it in the small trash can at the entryway before stepping back inside. The kids don’t notice his brief absence, too absorbed in the movie he’d brought for them from Family Video.
Y/N notices though, she always does. She’s meandering in the kitchen of the Harrington House, unnecessarily large and needlessly empty, washing dishes from earlier this evening. Steve nods to her awkwardly, a small smile on his face. “I can do that.” He offers immediately, waving her off, his voice a bit hushed as he hears the kids roar in laughter in the other room.
She shakes her head. “You’re already hosting, I can wash the dishes. It’s the least I can do.”
He steps closer, reaching out to grab one of dishes she’d placed onto the rack to help with drying it at least. Though she pauses for a moment, only the sound of the water running in the kitchen, Y/N can’t help but scrunch her nose. “Did you smoke?” She asks.
Steve blinks, looking at her, he offers a bashful smile. “Ah, yes I did.”
She only hums, clearing her throat. “That stuff is bad for you.” Comes her quiet murmur as she resumes scrubbing the dishes.
He breathes out a laugh and nods along. “So I’ve heard.”
“Smells bad, too.” She adds quietly, looking up at him for a moment before averting her gaze back to the dishes. The comment has Steve’s smile fading a bit, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he hums in acknowledgement.
Y/N hates when Steve smokes.
For a lot of reasons. The smell being one of them. Typically, Steve smells… good. As embarrassing as it is for her to admit, he takes care of himself, he’s always been pretty hygienic. With all the products he uses and the time he spends making himself look good, he has a nice scent. But, the smoke clings to his clothes, to his skin, to his breath. It’s not a pleasant smell. It’s the type of thing that makes her wrinkle her nose and step the tiniest bit away.
It’s also unhealthy. All signs point to long term smoking as a factor in a myriad of health problems, yet Steve smokes anyways. She doesn’t ask him about it often, he’s only offhandedly mentioned it as something that relaxes him.
There’s the taste, too. Y/N had only tried smoking once, a social thing really. But the taste had been enough to throw her off and make it a one time thing. It lingers on your tongue, gross and pungent. There’s no appeal to it.
She pushes those thoughts away as she focuses her attention on the dishes and not the man next to her and his singular, awful vice.
The Harrington House, empty as ever, is home to the party’s more indulgent operations. Beyond movie nights, there are pool nights and study nights and board game nights. His house is perfect for sleepovers with the countless extra rooms and ridiculous amount of space. Hence the number of teenagers crowded into his living room as of right now, yelling out their reactions at the screen as they watch some new horror movie.
Y/N can count on one hand the number of times she’s been alone with Steve. It’s hard, the party has a bad habit of interrupting their solo time together, but she enjoys herself nonetheless. He’s pleasant, much sweeter than he was in high school. She can certainly see the… appeal of Steve Harrington. Especially ever since they’d started their relationship-thing. She didn’t really have a name for it quite yet, they’d gone on a couple dates on the down-low. It was private, quiet, just between them. But she likes it, likes him.
And right now, the party is… occupied.
Steve clears his throat as they wrap up the dishes, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms as he looks at Y/N. She’s pretty, he thinks. With a sort of elegance about her. He likes to look at her, to observe. She seems to notice this as she dries her hands off on a ridiculously soft dish towel, gazing up at him through her lashes.
“Thanks for coming.” He manages words, thankfully, a flush rising up his neck. He feels as though he’s been caught staring. “It’s nice to be around someone my age.”
She laughs softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it is nice.” She purses her lips.
Steve finds himself straightening his posture as he looks at her, a small grin on his face. “Right.” He shifts to face her. “You’re staying the night?”
“As if I’d leave you alone with all of them.” She smiles, “I’m not evil.”
He breathes out a laugh, nodding along with her words. “‘Course not.” He says. “Perhaps us adults can indulge once the children go to bed then? There is plenty of unloved vintage wine in this house.”
She hums in acknowledgement at the offer, and she swears her face warms a bit as she tilts her head at him. “That would be nice.” The words come out soft, maybe a bit shy. But it has Steve grinning like he’s won the lottery, his head ducking down a bit so he can be closer to her.
Y/N blinks at the proximity, her face warming again as her gaze flicks to his. She’s not blind, and she’s certainly not stupid. Steve has been actively pursuing her for a short while now and she’s been indulgent. Her tiny crush on Steve had imploded a bit once he started pursuing her.
So, she’s not opposed to this. She lets his hand come to her cheek, watches his gaze flit over her face. They’ve kissed before, a couple of times on the dates they’d been on. Yet it always flustered her without fail. But when Steve Harrington ducks to finally, finally kiss her, she tilts her head to the side and absolutely curves him.
Ouch.
He blinks, his face reddening in embarrassment, Steve is pulling back immediately. “Sorry— sorry I thought—”
“No I—” She shakes her head, grabbing his wrist to keep him from going too far. “I want— I mean—” She can’t help but stumble over her words, flustered now as she lets out a nervous laugh. “Sorry.” The words leave her lips once more.
Her nervousness is endearing, and it seems to relax Steve as he lets out a shaky laugh as well. “It’s fine.” He waves it off, shaking his head. “I should’ve asked or…” He nods, a bit awkward, pressing his lips together. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
She shakes her head again, the back of her hand coming to press against her mouth. “No I— I want to.” She admits quietly, almost shy. The words have his eyes widening a bit, lips forming an ‘o’ and then confusion washing over his face.
Steve tilts his head, like a lost puppy. “Then… why…” His voice trails off, awaiting an explanation.
She purses her lips, looking away, a touch embarrassed. “Just… you were smoking.” Comes her quiet mumble. “I don’t… the taste. I don’t like it.”
Oh.
It’s at this moment that Steve feels dirty. Smoking is something he does to relax, he’s never had a problem with it. Not with the smell or the taste. But, she does. Suffice to say, Steve Harrington runs up to his bathroom and washes out his mouth. He changes his clothes and sprays on some cologne before returning to her for his kiss.
Smoking becomes a frequent problem in the blossoming relationship. If he’s just smoked, she’ll never kiss him. Dodging his lips, letting him kiss her cheek instead, she’s found countless strategies to avoid it. He gets it, he does. She has a right to her opinions. He doesn’t complain, never complains. Just pecks her cheek and offers her a sweet smile because that's who he is.
But, Steve hates it.
Not being able to kiss her feels criminal, he can’t deal with it. He’ll be itching for it, staring her down, yearning for her lips on his. But the smoke he’d had earlier that day would hang over his head. And as they get deeper into their not-so-casual dating, his feelings only get worse. He’s aching for his girl and he just can’t have her.
Smoking wouldn’t kill him. But not kissing her? That would kill him. That would end him. So, Steve resolves to quit. He doesn’t mention it to her, just tosses out the pack he’d recently bought and stuffs his light in his glovebox as if that will prevent temptation.
Quitting sucks. He quickly realizes it’s nowhere near as easy as he’d anticipated, the urge to smoke washing over him frequently. The first week without smoking is by far the worse, he vaguely wonders if he has some sort of oral fixation and resolves to buying a jumbo pack of lollipops in an effort to simulate the feeling of a good smoke.
Y/N notices, of course she notices. They’re on the couch at his place, and his knee is bouncing, the lollipop between his lips as the movie plays on the screen. Her head is resting on his shoulder, his arm thrown over the back of the couch behind her. She shifts to look up at him, hand coming to his knee to cease the bouncing. “You good?” She asks, tilting her head at him.
He blinks, gaze flitting down to her hand on his knee, he hadn’t even noticed his own restlessness. Steve simply shoots her a smile and a shrug, “fine.”
She hums, gently squeezing his knee. “You sure?” She asks, voice gentle.
He nods, albeit a bit absently. She hums in acknowledgement, her brows a bit furrowed. When she sits up and straightens her posture a bit, he takes that as his cue to sit up as well— facing her on the couch now. “‘M good. Promise.” He says, shooting her a sweet smile.
She accepts his answer, her hand on his knee sliding up to his thigh as she looks at him through her lashes and— oh.
This. This makes it all worth it. She looks at him like she wants him, and suddenly he’s taking the lollipop from between his lips and letting it rest on the wrapper he’d left out on the coffee table. This time when he dips his head down to kiss her— she meets him halfway, her eyes fluttering shut. Eager and sweet, her lips press to his, her hand coming to his cheek while his goes to her nape. A content hum escapes her.
When Steve doesn’t smoke, she kisses him all the time. She’ll initiate affection left and right. He loves it. Adores it. Needs it. All thoughts of the smoke he’d been aching for are gone, replaced by her her her. All her. The only thing he aches for now is her. It’s silly how quickly she wipes his mind clean of all other thoughts, but Steve doesn’t mind at all. When she kisses him, he feels wanted, and that’s all that matters.
Steve pulls away to speak, but her lips are chasing his and god who is he to deny her? Immediately, he kisses back, just as eager as she is. The hand on her nape tightening just a bit. “C’mere.” He murmurs against her lips, hand finding her hip to tug her closer. A soft giggle escapes her and their lips finally break apart as she shifts, slipping into his lap easily. He hums contentedly, hands sliding to her hips, moving up and down absentmindedly. “Pretty girl.”
She smiles at his compliments, shifting a bit to get comfortable in his lap, her knees bracket his sides and dig into the couch cushions. Her hand slides to his hair, gently tugging at the strands in a way that has him letting out a sharp exhale. “You taste good.” She remarks softly, just a bit shy. “Sweet.”
Steve thinks he might die. He was wrong. She’s gonna kill him.
He leans forward to kiss her again, instantly deciding his lips are never touching another cigarette again, it’s an easy conclusion to reach when she feels like this. Steve swears he’s in heaven. He’s a simple guy after all, he likes kissing. It’s nice and intimate, offering a sense of closeness he yearns for.
This time, she pulls back, hands sliding to his shoulders, she tilts her head at him. “You sure you’re alright?” She dips her head down to nose at his jaw affectionately, his hand coming to scratch at her scalp in response.
“Yeah.” He breathes out, and Steve finds himself pursing his lips. When she pulls back to look at him, rather unconvinced, his hand comes up to rub his jaw. “Just… I just wanted to smoke.” He admits.
Y/N blinks. “Oh.” She sounds a bit disappointed, probably because smoking means no more indulging in him. “Do you… not have a light?”
He shakes his head, and he finds himself starting to feel antsy again. “Nah, I just— I’m not doing that anymore.”
“Not… smoking anymore?”
He nods in confirmation.
“Oh.” She says again, but this time she smiles a bit. “Why not?”
He shrugs, nonchalant, like it doesn’t matter at all. “You don’t like it.” And she blinks, staring at him for a moment, registering his words. He’s quitting smoking because she doesn’t like it?
Ah. She swears her face heats up at the thought, she flusters a bit, sitting up a tad straighter. “So, you quit?”
“So, I quit.” He lets his head fall back onto the couch with a sigh. “Or at least I’m trying.” He murmurs, lifting his head to look at her again.
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and his thumb immediately comes to gently pull it free. “That’s kinda romantic.” She remarks, gaze flitting back to his lips again.
At this, he grins, “is it?” Steve leans forward to peck her lips again, this kiss far more chaste than the previous one. The type of kiss he gives her just because he can. “Just wanna make sure I can kiss you all the time.”
She giggles, pleased. “Yeah?” She leans forward to knock her nose against his, eyes lidded.
“Yeah.” He breathes out.
She kisses him again, her hand sliding to his nape to hold him steady. Her head tilts to further deepen the kiss and— oh. That’s her tongue. He can feel her tongue on his lips, a silent request for them to part. Okay. Okay he can do that. Yes. Immediately, his lips part, letting her explore his mouth. Steve is pretty sure his brain starts to melt as he grips her hips to tug her closer. He tastes good. Better, knowing that the taste of smoke will soon be a distant memory. His recent lollipop addiction has him tasting like candy though, not that she minds.
When she finally pulls back, satisfied, Steve decides it’s his turn to have fun. His hand coming to her jaw to hold her firmly, a soft whine escapes her as he presses his tongue into her mouth this time. Though she’s happy to let him, reveling in his affections.
Yes. Quitting smoking is easily the best choice Steve Harrington has ever made.
Note: lowk my fave thing i have written also i yearn for requests lowk
feel free to tip ☕️ — always appreciated, never expected 💛
Summary: Steve has only one vice: smoking. Y/N hates it and refuses to kiss him when he smokes. Naturally, Steve quits smoking.
Warnings: Use of Y/N, Fluff, Cursing, (French) Kissing, Smoking lol, Making Out, the tiniest bit of second hand embarrassment
Word Count: 2.7K
Masterlist
Steve Harrington has few vices. Admittedly, that’s a more recent development. Since reforming his entire personality after many near-death experiences— he’s been forced to reflect on past behavior and change. Overall, a great experience but… it didn’t mean he had to give up all his vices.
He likes to smoke.
It’s a good stress reliever, simple and easy. All he needs is a pack of cigarettes and a light, and he’s good to go. Yeah, he’s heard it might not be the most healthy but it wouldn’t kill him. He’s encountered things that could kill him— a tiny cigarette wouldn’t be the thing to make him kick the bucket just yet.
Steve steps outside, away from the kids and everyone else. Reaching into his pocket to fish out the pack of cigarettes, he picks one from the box and brings it to his lips. Once he flicks open his lighter, he’s quick to light the bud. His eyes flutter shut as he inhales the smoke, taking the cigarette from his lips to puff it out with a sigh.
His smoke breaks are brief, and not too frequent. He stamps out the cigarette and tosses it in the small trash can at the entryway before stepping back inside. The kids don’t notice his brief absence, too absorbed in the movie he’d brought for them from Family Video.
Y/N notices though, she always does. She’s meandering in the kitchen of the Harrington House, unnecessarily large and needlessly empty, washing dishes from earlier this evening. Steve nods to her awkwardly, a small smile on his face. “I can do that.” He offers immediately, waving her off, his voice a bit hushed as he hears the kids roar in laughter in the other room.
She shakes her head. “You’re already hosting, I can wash the dishes. It’s the least I can do.”
He steps closer, reaching out to grab one of dishes she’d placed onto the rack to help with drying it at least. Though she pauses for a moment, only the sound of the water running in the kitchen, Y/N can’t help but scrunch her nose. “Did you smoke?” She asks.
Steve blinks, looking at her, he offers a bashful smile. “Ah, yes I did.”
She only hums, clearing her throat. “That stuff is bad for you.” Comes her quiet murmur as she resumes scrubbing the dishes.
He breathes out a laugh and nods along. “So I’ve heard.”
“Smells bad, too.” She adds quietly, looking up at him for a moment before averting her gaze back to the dishes. The comment has Steve’s smile fading a bit, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he hums in acknowledgement.
Y/N hates when Steve smokes.
For a lot of reasons. The smell being one of them. Typically, Steve smells… good. As embarrassing as it is for her to admit, he takes care of himself, he’s always been pretty hygienic. With all the products he uses and the time he spends making himself look good, he has a nice scent. But, the smoke clings to his clothes, to his skin, to his breath. It’s not a pleasant smell. It’s the type of thing that makes her wrinkle her nose and step the tiniest bit away.
It’s also unhealthy. All signs point to long term smoking as a factor in a myriad of health problems, yet Steve smokes anyways. She doesn’t ask him about it often, he’s only offhandedly mentioned it as something that relaxes him.
There’s the taste, too. Y/N had only tried smoking once, a social thing really. But the taste had been enough to throw her off and make it a one time thing. It lingers on your tongue, gross and pungent. There’s no appeal to it.
She pushes those thoughts away as she focuses her attention on the dishes and not the man next to her and his singular, awful vice.
The Harrington House, empty as ever, is home to the party’s more indulgent operations. Beyond movie nights, there are pool nights and study nights and board game nights. His house is perfect for sleepovers with the countless extra rooms and ridiculous amount of space. Hence the number of teenagers crowded into his living room as of right now, yelling out their reactions at the screen as they watch some new horror movie.
Y/N can count on one hand the number of times she’s been alone with Steve. It’s hard, the party has a bad habit of interrupting their solo time together, but she enjoys herself nonetheless. He’s pleasant, much sweeter than he was in high school. She can certainly see the… appeal of Steve Harrington. Especially ever since they’d started their relationship-thing. She didn’t really have a name for it quite yet, they’d gone on a couple dates on the down-low. It was private, quiet, just between them. But she likes it, likes him.
And right now, the party is… occupied.
Steve clears his throat as they wrap up the dishes, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms as he looks at Y/N. She’s pretty, he thinks. With a sort of elegance about her. He likes to look at her, to observe. She seems to notice this as she dries her hands off on a ridiculously soft dish towel, gazing up at him through her lashes.
“Thanks for coming.” He manages words, thankfully, a flush rising up his neck. He feels as though he’s been caught staring. “It’s nice to be around someone my age.”
She laughs softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it is nice.” She purses her lips.
Steve finds himself straightening his posture as he looks at her, a small grin on his face. “Right.” He shifts to face her. “You’re staying the night?”
“As if I’d leave you alone with all of them.” She smiles, “I’m not evil.”
He breathes out a laugh, nodding along with her words. “‘Course not.” He says. “Perhaps us adults can indulge once the children go to bed then? There is plenty of unloved vintage wine in this house.”
She hums in acknowledgement at the offer, and she swears her face warms a bit as she tilts her head at him. “That would be nice.” The words come out soft, maybe a bit shy. But it has Steve grinning like he’s won the lottery, his head ducking down a bit so he can be closer to her.
Y/N blinks at the proximity, her face warming again as her gaze flicks to his. She’s not blind, and she’s certainly not stupid. Steve has been actively pursuing her for a short while now and she’s been indulgent. Her tiny crush on Steve had imploded a bit once he started pursuing her.
So, she’s not opposed to this. She lets his hand come to her cheek, watches his gaze flit over her face. They’ve kissed before, a couple of times on the dates they’d been on. Yet it always flustered her without fail. But when Steve Harrington ducks to finally, finally kiss her, she tilts her head to the side and absolutely curves him.
Ouch.
He blinks, his face reddening in embarrassment, Steve is pulling back immediately. “Sorry— sorry I thought—”
“No I—” She shakes her head, grabbing his wrist to keep him from going too far. “I want— I mean—” She can’t help but stumble over her words, flustered now as she lets out a nervous laugh. “Sorry.” The words leave her lips once more.
Her nervousness is endearing, and it seems to relax Steve as he lets out a shaky laugh as well. “It’s fine.” He waves it off, shaking his head. “I should’ve asked or…” He nods, a bit awkward, pressing his lips together. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
She shakes her head again, the back of her hand coming to press against her mouth. “No I— I want to.” She admits quietly, almost shy. The words have his eyes widening a bit, lips forming an ‘o’ and then confusion washing over his face.
Steve tilts his head, like a lost puppy. “Then… why…” His voice trails off, awaiting an explanation.
She purses her lips, looking away, a touch embarrassed. “Just… you were smoking.” Comes her quiet mumble. “I don’t… the taste. I don’t like it.”
Oh.
It’s at this moment that Steve feels dirty. Smoking is something he does to relax, he’s never had a problem with it. Not with the smell or the taste. But, she does. Suffice to say, Steve Harrington runs up to his bathroom and washes out his mouth. He changes his clothes and sprays on some cologne before returning to her for his kiss.
Smoking becomes a frequent problem in the blossoming relationship. If he’s just smoked, she’ll never kiss him. Dodging his lips, letting him kiss her cheek instead, she’s found countless strategies to avoid it. He gets it, he does. She has a right to her opinions. He doesn’t complain, never complains. Just pecks her cheek and offers her a sweet smile because that's who he is.
But, Steve hates it.
Not being able to kiss her feels criminal, he can’t deal with it. He’ll be itching for it, staring her down, yearning for her lips on his. But the smoke he’d had earlier that day would hang over his head. And as they get deeper into their not-so-casual dating, his feelings only get worse. He’s aching for his girl and he just can’t have her.
Smoking wouldn’t kill him. But not kissing her? That would kill him. That would end him. So, Steve resolves to quit. He doesn’t mention it to her, just tosses out the pack he’d recently bought and stuffs his light in his glovebox as if that will prevent temptation.
Quitting sucks. He quickly realizes it’s nowhere near as easy as he’d anticipated, the urge to smoke washing over him frequently. The first week without smoking is by far the worse, he vaguely wonders if he has some sort of oral fixation and resolves to buying a jumbo pack of lollipops in an effort to simulate the feeling of a good smoke.
Y/N notices, of course she notices. They’re on the couch at his place, and his knee is bouncing, the lollipop between his lips as the movie plays on the screen. Her head is resting on his shoulder, his arm thrown over the back of the couch behind her. She shifts to look up at him, hand coming to his knee to cease the bouncing. “You good?” She asks, tilting her head at him.
He blinks, gaze flitting down to her hand on his knee, he hadn’t even noticed his own restlessness. Steve simply shoots her a smile and a shrug, “fine.”
She hums, gently squeezing his knee. “You sure?” She asks, voice gentle.
He nods, albeit a bit absently. She hums in acknowledgement, her brows a bit furrowed. When she sits up and straightens her posture a bit, he takes that as his cue to sit up as well— facing her on the couch now. “‘M good. Promise.” He says, shooting her a sweet smile.
She accepts his answer, her hand on his knee sliding up to his thigh as she looks at him through her lashes and— oh.
This. This makes it all worth it. She looks at him like she wants him, and suddenly he’s taking the lollipop from between his lips and letting it rest on the wrapper he’d left out on the coffee table. This time when he dips his head down to kiss her— she meets him halfway, her eyes fluttering shut. Eager and sweet, her lips press to his, her hand coming to his cheek while his goes to her nape. A content hum escapes her.
When Steve doesn’t smoke, she kisses him all the time. She’ll initiate affection left and right. He loves it. Adores it. Needs it. All thoughts of the smoke he’d been aching for are gone, replaced by her her her. All her. The only thing he aches for now is her. It’s silly how quickly she wipes his mind clean of all other thoughts, but Steve doesn’t mind at all. When she kisses him, he feels wanted, and that’s all that matters.
Steve pulls away to speak, but her lips are chasing his and god who is he to deny her? Immediately, he kisses back, just as eager as she is. The hand on her nape tightening just a bit. “C’mere.” He murmurs against her lips, hand finding her hip to tug her closer. A soft giggle escapes her and their lips finally break apart as she shifts, slipping into his lap easily. He hums contentedly, hands sliding to her hips, moving up and down absentmindedly. “Pretty girl.”
She smiles at his compliments, shifting a bit to get comfortable in his lap, her knees bracket his sides and dig into the couch cushions. Her hand slides to his hair, gently tugging at the strands in a way that has him letting out a sharp exhale. “You taste good.” She remarks softly, just a bit shy. “Sweet.”
Steve thinks he might die. He was wrong. She’s gonna kill him.
He leans forward to kiss her again, instantly deciding his lips are never touching another cigarette again, it’s an easy conclusion to reach when she feels like this. Steve swears he’s in heaven. He’s a simple guy after all, he likes kissing. It’s nice and intimate, offering a sense of closeness he yearns for.
This time, she pulls back, hands sliding to his shoulders, she tilts her head at him. “You sure you’re alright?” She dips her head down to nose at his jaw affectionately, his hand coming to scratch at her scalp in response.
“Yeah.” He breathes out, and Steve finds himself pursing his lips. When she pulls back to look at him, rather unconvinced, his hand comes up to rub his jaw. “Just… I just wanted to smoke.” He admits.
Y/N blinks. “Oh.” She sounds a bit disappointed, probably because smoking means no more indulging in him. “Do you… not have a light?”
He shakes his head, and he finds himself starting to feel antsy again. “Nah, I just— I’m not doing that anymore.”
“Not… smoking anymore?”
He nods in confirmation.
“Oh.” She says again, but this time she smiles a bit. “Why not?”
He shrugs, nonchalant, like it doesn’t matter at all. “You don’t like it.” And she blinks, staring at him for a moment, registering his words. He’s quitting smoking because she doesn’t like it?
Ah. She swears her face heats up at the thought, she flusters a bit, sitting up a tad straighter. “So, you quit?”
“So, I quit.” He lets his head fall back onto the couch with a sigh. “Or at least I’m trying.” He murmurs, lifting his head to look at her again.
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and his thumb immediately comes to gently pull it free. “That’s kinda romantic.” She remarks, gaze flitting back to his lips again.
At this, he grins, “is it?” Steve leans forward to peck her lips again, this kiss far more chaste than the previous one. The type of kiss he gives her just because he can. “Just wanna make sure I can kiss you all the time.”
She giggles, pleased. “Yeah?” She leans forward to knock her nose against his, eyes lidded.
“Yeah.” He breathes out.
She kisses him again, her hand sliding to his nape to hold him steady. Her head tilts to further deepen the kiss and— oh. That’s her tongue. He can feel her tongue on his lips, a silent request for them to part. Okay. Okay he can do that. Yes. Immediately, his lips part, letting her explore his mouth. Steve is pretty sure his brain starts to melt as he grips her hips to tug her closer. He tastes good. Better, knowing that the taste of smoke will soon be a distant memory. His recent lollipop addiction has him tasting like candy though, not that she minds.
When she finally pulls back, satisfied, Steve decides it’s his turn to have fun. His hand coming to her jaw to hold her firmly, a soft whine escapes her as he presses his tongue into her mouth this time. Though she’s happy to let him, reveling in his affections.
Yes. Quitting smoking is easily the best choice Steve Harrington has ever made.
Note: lowk my fave thing i have written also i yearn for requests lowk
note2: I FORGOT TO ADD TAGS THE FIRST TIME I POSTED
feel free to tip ☕️ — always appreciated, never expected 💛
steve harrington but its a bridgerton au and steve is from a high title family and is set to inherit his father's estate as the only son. initially he was a bit of a player and he never set himself out on courting a single young lady. but naturally, times change and steve is ultimately a yearner at heart.
ugh he'd be so suited for that gentlemanly pride & prejudice level of yearning from a distance that comes from trying to court a lady without being too much and letting that mask of nonchalance fall. because he really really really wants you to be his and he goes about courting you so delicately! the whole 9 yards. everyone in the ton has the gossip mill running about how the harrington boy is finally settling down but you just aren't taking him seriously and its breaking his heart.
god forbid anyone else tries to court you, he's immediately trying to scare them off and claim all the lines on your dance card for himself. he just wants you to see he's serious about this! he'd been an excellent provider if you just let him prove it! eventually you relent and start taking his courting seriously and he's delighted! it's almost adorable how eager he is because he comes to see you all the time.
A man who yearns is a man who earns. And Steve Harrington is a yearner. In fact, he’s a bit embarrassed by how badly he yearns for you. The overwhelming desire to be in your presence. So, he tries to dial it back, he really does. Steve feels like nonchalance is key to keeping a girl, if he tries too hard, acts too into you— he’s gonna scare you off.
He tries, he really does.
But it never goes to plan. Because the way Steve looks at you makes it clear that he wants you, and much to his dismay, he really really really wants to be clingy.
Which is why, after your date, he meanders at your door. The poor boy is trying to get you to invite him in, it would be far too presumptuous of him to invite himself in, he’d never dare. Instead, he lurks, making small talk that you two haven’t engaged in since the very first time you met. It has you tilting your head at him, a bit confused, hand linked with his as you swing your arms back and forth lightly.
“So… you think the weather is gonna improve? It’s been snowing a lot.”
The unimpressed look you give him is enough for him to offer you a sheepish smile, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles in an attempt to distract you that almost works. “Steve, if you want to keep hanging out, you can just say that.”
And he blinks at you, owlish, as if that thought hadn’t occurred to him. His thumb rubs over your knuckles as he lowers your hand from his lips. “We don’t have to if you—”
“Did I say that?”
At this, his cheeks turn a delicious shade of pink, and he looks away for a moment. “If you wanna.” Is all he can manage, because who is he to impose? Steve has this constant worry of being too much, because if he’s too much you’ll grow tired of him. He can’t have that, he likes you after all, really likes you.
And you sigh, releasing his hand and waving him inside with a finger to your lips to signify the need to be quiet. It’s a tad late after all. He’s a bit anxious over it, awkward as he follows you up the stairs like a lost puppy as he makes his way into your bedroom. He sits on your bed, plopping down onto it unceremoniously, toying with the stuffed animal that rests at the center. He brings it to his lap.
You laugh softly at the sight, and he looks up at you, a bashful sort of look on his face as he puts the stuffed animal to the side, spreading his legs so you can stand between them. He sighs contentedly as your hands come to his cheeks— his eyes fluttering shut as he lets head lull a bit in your palms. Pliant to your touch, per usual. His own hands come to your hips.
“You can ask if you wanna hang out more.” Comes your soft murmur, thumbs smoothing over his cheeks. He sighs, his eyes fluttering open to look at you. Truly, he looks angelic, gazing up at you through his lashes as if you put the stars in the sky.
“I don't wanna be a bother.” Steve responds with a shrug, his attempt at maintaining nonchalance. But someone like Steve Harrington is simply not built for nonchalance.
And you hum, hand coming to his chin. Man, he really likes when you do that. “You aren’t, ever.”
Steve swears his heart melts, his hands sliding down, he brings a hand to your thigh to gently tug you into his lap. You go willingly, knees bracketing his sides, they press into the mattress as Steve’s hands slide to the backs of your thighs to support you. He revels in the affection, the closeness. “Yeah.”
“I’m serious.” You say, and he knows you are. Logically. But there’s a part of him that’s still nervous about being too much.
He presses his lips together into a thin line, hands absently sliding up and down your thighs. “I really like you, y’know?” He admits, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your chest.
“And I really like you.”
Steve can’t help but shake his head. “You don’t get it. I really like you.” He says it almost insistently, a bit pained. “Like I wanna be around you all the time.”
A grin washes over your face, your hand sliding to his hair to gently scratch his scalp. “Is there a reason I wouldn’t like that?”
And Steve gives you a look that says ‘you aren’t getting it.’ His brows furrowing, he almost pouts. “I’m not trying to act all clingy.” He says the word with such distaste and disgust, you’d think it personally offended him.
“I like clingy.” You gently tug his hair to make him tilt his head back, meeting his gaze. "You're my boyfriend. Being clingy is a part of the package."
He huffs, because he really thinks you're underestimating how much he likes you. How much he yearns for you. But you really seem sincere. "I guess."
"I know." Is your response, leaning down to kiss him. Slow, but also chaste. You pull back after a few moments and Steve looks like he could simply die if he doesn't get more of you. "I like clingy. It means you want me. I want you too." You tap his cheek gently.
Steve sighs, pouting a bit. "Alright. But don't come whining to me—"
You're swatting his chest in response, shaking your head.
"I just— I really like you." He breathes out, almost shy.
And you hum in acknowledgement, leaning forward to press your forehead against his. Your gaze darts over his face, analytical and contemplative, you consider him and his words. "I happen to like you quite a bit too."
And even if Steve does like you more, who doesn't want that?
So, yeah. Steve is pretty sure he likes you a lot more than you like him. But evidently, you're kinda into that.
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