Imagine current college AU Steve Harrington. Hair swept up all careless yet perfect, the few freckles on his face creating small constellations on his cheeks, and warm brown eyes. Fitted black t-shirt over wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants that all too easily show the outline of his cock. It’s debatable if he knows just how good it looks, but he’s got experience to back up the attention it gets, of course. He’s gorgeous, muscular, tall, and a total athlete, captain of your school’s basketball team and co-captain for swim. Yet he’s not quite too popular, liked enough and spends a generous amount of time with girls, but still only really hangs with his roommate bestie, Robin. Seems like a frat boy by all appearances, but isn’t one, really. He’s in the Gen Ed psych class you TA, pulling through somehow with a C since he’s always missing class and assignments for sports, but he’s hardly uninterested - he always asks questions, pays attention. You can tell by the way his brow furrows during lecture, or the intent stare he gives each exam, often the last person to finish, carefully scratching his pencil, praying the right answer will come the more he writes. He’s careful, but still doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but you appreciate him because he’s one of the only students who thanks you for your time, always. Sweet and insanely hot, a little dumb but so genuine and cares!! Steve cares, and that’s the most attractive part.
This is absolutely shamelessly just for me, and my writing can’t do this concept justice but I love it here 😩
Hiii, can I request 16 from the hugs list with Steve pls? Tysm!!! <3
Here you are my lovely!
Steve knew you were already awake when his alarm went off, because at the sounds of the annoying beeping, you immediately crawled over him, straddling his hips.
He grinned before he opened his eyes, sleeping clinging to him as you shuffled between the sheets and his chest, both you bed warm and lazy. The boy hummed, his arms circling your waist as you lay your chest to his, nose pushing impatiently at the line of his jaw until he tilted his head back for you and let you wriggle your way into him more.
“Mornin’,” he mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder, another two, three along the line of it when you sighed happily at his touch.
“Hi,” you whispered into his neck, voice soft and low from tiredness and the sound of it warmed Steve’s bones. “Don’t wanna get up.”
Steve made a sound of agreement, his hands wandering up and down your sides, only taking two passes across your ribs before he was sliding his palms up the inside of the shirt you wore, hands skating across bare skin.
“You get to stay here,” he told you, a pout on his lips, “I’m the one who has to go to work.”
He felt rather than saw you shake your head, apple shampoo and leftover perfume filling the air around you both. It was barely light out, the hazy morning sun only just starting to filter through the gap in the curtain.
“Stay here with me,” you mumbled, before the hot, wet press of your mouth started on his throat, the spot under his ear. Your hands snuck around his neck, holding him a little closer still. “Please?”
Steve groaned, ‘cause he realised before you were even dating that it was damn near impossible to say no to you.
“Baby,” he sighed.
You clung a little tighter, thighs pressed to his hips, your face hidden in the crook of his neck. You whined, a little unfairly, but you weren’t really caring when sleep still tugged at your body and Steve was so warm.
He smelled so nice, like fresh cotton and mint, something woodsy and the leftover scent of his cologne still clung to his skin.
“Baby.”
You pulled back just enough to look down at your boyfriend, lips twisted into a dramatic pout that Steve promptly kissed off of you. His hands found their way to your face, cheeks a little smushed in his hold and he grinned at you when you wrinkled your nose too.
“You’re cute,” he told you, pleased when you flushed in return. “Adorable, actually.”
“Shut up,” you admonished but there wasn’t any heat behind your words, there couldn’t be, not when Steve was looking at you like you were the reason the sun was coming up. “Don’t you wanna stay in bed with me?”
The boy scoffed out a laugh, allowing you to drop back into the cradle of his arms, head pressed to his chest now as you drew lines across bare skin, dipped your finger into the valleys of his collar bones.
“Is the Pope catholic?” He answered in response.
You grinned against him, kissing a smattering of freckles on his shoulder before you looked up at him from beneath your lashes.
“Yes.”
“Well then.”
“So stay,” you whispered again, hoping you could entice him more by dragging your thigh across his, hitching your knee to his hip. You felt like you were winning as he grew hard against you, an almost defeated sounding groan leaving his lips.
“You’re a demon,” he told you, protesting already despite the way his hand found your leg, palm smoothing up and across the curve of your ass. You wiggled against him, proud. “I’m gonna be late.”
“Pretend you’re sick.”
“Keith will have my head.”
“I’ll give you head.”
Another strangled moan, a cough that ended in a laugh.
“You’re impossible,” he whispered, but a grin was splitting his lips when you moved back over him, crawling across his still lazy frame, his chin tilted up as he asked for a kiss.
You granted him one, morning breath be damned, because it was Steve and god, his hands were doing wonderful things to the plush skin on the inside of your thighs.
“Stay.”
“Maybe.”
Keith didn’t sound like he believed him when the boy called twenty minutes later, voice feeble as you sucked a bruise onto his neck, telling his manager how unwell he was.
44 and 50 from the touches prompt list with steve? 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶❤️
Here’s 44 for you my lovely! 🧡
It wasn’t like you never showed Steve any overly affectionate displays in public, it was just that you always limited them, toned them down when you were with friends. A kiss to the cheek instead of his lips, holding hands when you lingered behind the group, a head on his shoulder when you watched movies late into the night.
It’s why he was so surprised when you walked back into the Wheeler’s basement, the television set playing Beetlejuice to the tangled mess of enraptured kids who were sprawled on the floor, and placed yourself onto his lap instead of beside him.
It was dark enough that you didn’t see the look of shock cross his face and none of the kids even bothered to turn around from where they lay in the mess of shared pillows. But Eddie caught Steve’s eye from the armchair across the room, grinning knowingly when the boy just blinked owlishly. Nancy didn’t care and Robin, who was leaning against her shoulder, was asleep.
He waited until you settled into him, your back cushioned against his chest and the curve of the old sofa, tucked into the corner of it with him. Your legs lay across his, Steve’s hand only dropping to your thigh when he realised it wasn’t a prank and you weren’t going anywhere.
When everyone’s attention was stolen back to the screen, he squeezed at your waist with his other arm, pulled you closer still and smiled when he saw you flush in the low light.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He made sure to whisper, lips at the shell of your ear and he grinned when you squirmed, embarrassed.
You tucked your face into his neck, smiling in a way that he knew you couldn’t help, your hands tangling into his own, his larger one between your two. You tugged at his fingers, thumb rolling over the balls of knuckles in a gesture he knew too well.
You were feeling a little shy, nervous around him still, even after four months together.
You shrugged, lips brushing the line of his throat in a way you didn’t even mean when you finally answered.
“Just missed you, that’s all.”
It was a silly thing to say, you felt. You’d been with the boy all day, traipsing around town fulfilling promises of arcade trips and ice cream for dinner, movies picked out at the rental store, the kids face’s alight with genuine joy for the first time in an age.
But you’d been surrounded by your friends all day and as much as you loved them, the constant company of others had left you aching for the touch and comfort of your boyfriend.
You missed him in a way you couldn’t really explain. But maybe, you thought - as you watched Steve’s eyes soften, his smile grow fond - you didn’t have to.
“Baby,” Steve’s voice was thick with affection as he pushed his face to yours, nose smushed to your cheek in an almost kiss and he grinned at the warmth he felt there. “Missed you too, shit.”
You didn’t object when he pulled you further into him, his arms wrapped around you to hold you close and he was a downright goner when you let out a little pleased hum, bringing one your hands to the nape of his neck to card your fingers through his hair.
The movie played out in a blur to him after that, Mike and Max’s commentary a dull fuzz of noise and he didn’t care in the slightest when Dustin looked back and caught sight of you both, screwing up his face in disgust.
You didn’t seem phased either, happy to just touch Steve and be touched in return, your hands constantly busy mapping out a different part of him in the most slow and fond way.
Fingers tracing the cuff of his sweater, a hand pushing underneath the fabric to trail down his ribs. Your nose pressed to his jaw, breath warm and soft over his neck, the palm of your hand curled into his collar, pushing over the muscle in his shoulder.
He felt a little dizzy from it, overwhelmed in the best way by your presence, like he was being rewarded for something he didn’t know. He felt sixteen again when the movie flickered into dark, shadows coating the room and you took the opportunity to press a fleeting kiss to his mouth.
Your lips caught his, his bottom sliding between yours, a quick press of warmth and cherry chapstick and god, fuck, Steve was overjoyed.
Okay Steve has the greatest mom energy but what he does NOT have is the executive functioning, prefrontal cortex planning component. This man is in no way prepared for the situations he faces and is amazing at rolling with the punches but you cannot tell me he has foresight to pack and prep things to ensure his kids are safe 😭 see flashlight scene from s4
Ughhh I so badly want in a relationship to be obnoxiously all over another person and always touching/be physically close bc I never had that at all…I want to feel wanted and reading about Steve having that kind of possessive closeness just HITS
the protective and a little bit possessive arm that goes around you when guys approach you/talk to you
the diner was toasty, especially up against steve. shrugging out of your jacket, you grab his firm shoulder and shove him away playfully.
“jesus, steve, you’re like ten thousand degrees.” you mumble quietly so as not to disrupt robin and steve’s conversation.
the corner booth was spacious, but steve always liked to be practically on top of you, the comfort of your frame against his own to ground him. your legs stuck slightly to the laminate of the booth cushion as you slide a fraction away from him.
“i’m just saying that if you’re gonna pick someone to have a crush on, you might as well pick someone who also plays the trombone. isn’t there like… fingering involved?”
“First of all, you’re sick. Second of all, I play the trumpet, Steven, we’ve been over this-“
“trumpet, trombone. tomayto, tomahto-“
“and third of all, vickie plays the clarinet. which also happens to involve fingering,” she mutters to herself quickly, “but that doesn’t even matter!” she’s closing her eyes and waving her hands, clearing the thought from the air.
the pink milkshake in front of you was abysmally melted, the condensation pooling up on the counter. you drag your finger through the puddle absentmindedly, not really sure what to add to the conversation.
you feel for robin, you really do. a crush on someone so close yet so far? never being able to summon the courage to confess? you were living that nightmare. and the culprit was sitting right next to you…
sure, steve definitely liked you. hell, you hang out almost everyday upon his request. and sure, he’s definitely touchy and flirty when he’s around you. but there was always that little voice in your head that prevented you from believing he may reciprocate your feelings. prolonged glances and warm smiles were just a part of being friends with steve.
“you good?” a gentle nudge to your shoulder brought you back to reality. steve was looking at you with an amused smirk, a hint of concern in his eyes as he looked between your finger on the table and your wide eyes.
“fine. just hot.” you shrug, scratching at your collarbone and swiping the hair off your shoulders.
concern crept a little further up his face, his brows furrowing as he peaked past you towards a waiter, a a hand frantically running through his hair.
“well, let’s get you a water, hmm?” he tried to hide his worry as he waved over the waiter, quickly putting on his faux customer service smile. “hey, hi! can we get an ice water here fo-“
“y/n?”
you glanced up to the waiter, the face eerily familiar.
“richie?” your legs lift you up slowly from the booth, instantly taking you into him for a hug.
he’s a tad taller than you and you have to get up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. he smells clean, like soap, maybe a hint of cigarette smoke.
“well, it’s ‘richard’ now, but… oh my god, i cant believe you’re here,” he chuckles incredulously, giving you a squeeze then holding you back at arms length to look at you. “geez, you got old.”
you smack him lightly on the arm, much to his amusement, before sitting back down in your booth with a cheesy grin.
“yeah? look in the mirror lately? last time i saw you, i had about a foot on you.”
his laugh is gravely and you can see him fussing with the notepad and pen in his hands before scuffing his shoe on the floor.
“yeah, well, it was bound to happen eventually.” his voice is fond, almost reminiscent, and there’s a brief moment shared between you.
richie was late night fires at summer camp and stargazing in the cool summers and stolen glances and shared ice cream on his front porch. you hadn’t seen him in about five years since he moved to boston, but you can tell he hasn’t changed a bit, besides his appearance. he’s taller now, and fuller. a toned build that showed he was busy while he was away.
steve cleared his throat bluntly, jarring you from your memory.
“oh! right, sorry. richie- er, richard, these are my friends. this is robin and this is steve.”
“hi,” robin looked a little awkward, but still gave him a beaming smile, which he gladly returned.
“how goes it?” steve was much more curt, and you kicked him lightly under the table, making him jump with a confused look shot your way.
“nice to meet you guys! um, was there something you needed?” he looked at you expectantly, but before you could get the words out, steve interrupted.
“could we have an ice water?” steve’s voice is devoid of his usual charm as his arm came up to wrap around your shoulders cooly. “and our check?”
you side-eyed him wearily before turning back to richard with a soft smile in confirmation.
“uh, yeah! of course, i’ll be right back with that!” he flashed you a wide grin before spinning on his heel to the back.
“what was that?” you instantly turn on steve accusingly, snorting humorlessly.
his arm falls off you, now fussing with the cold fries left on his plate.
“what?”
“well, i guess you could have been a little bit nicer to richie…”
steve stops his fidget and fixes you with an unreadable expression.
“i feel like we were perfectly civil, right robin?” he asks her without breaking eye-contact with you.
“yeah, sure, i guess s-“
“i mean we just met the guy. what do you want me to do? ask him his favorite color? invite him over for a drink or two?”
you scoff and roll your eyes, annoyed with his teasing. your finger returns to the cracks on the table in hopes of avoiding his gaze.
“i thought he was nice,” robin says timidly, giving you a sheepish smile.
you give her a thankful smile in return before looking back down. you can feel the silent conversation taking place next to you, but you don’t feel the need to interrupt, knowing they’ll probably feign ignorance if you catch them in the act.
steve snakes his arm back around your shoulders once again wordlessly, tugging you closer to him a fraction. richard’s back not a second later.
“here is an ice water, and here is your check.” he peaks up at you with a smile. “just let me know if you need anything else.”
“will do,” steve shoots him an overly fake smile, squeezing your shoulder a bit.
steve smells really good, like hot tea and clean cotton. his chest is solid against your side and his ankle hooks with yours a little under the table. you can feel his light breaths at your ear and the slight tension in the muscles of his arm. you thank richard one last time, promising to give him a call, before he’s gone once again.
steve’s arm stays put as he reaches across you for the check, grabbing the pen with his left hand when you know without a doubt he’s right handed. he’s squinting down at the check, furrowing his brows at the total as he nibbles slightly on the end of the pen. he peaks up for a split second and gestures the pen towards the cup in front of you.
“drink some of your water.”
he’s looking back down at the check and setting the pen down before he’s stretching a little, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.
the cup is cool in your palm and it’s helping to calm your nerves from being this close to him, feeling his touch on you for so long. you open the straw and stick it in, bending it to meet your lips and taking a long sip. your teeth hurt a bit from the chill, but it helps bring you back to yourself.
with a frown around your straw, you reach out to his wallet, stopping his hand and pushing it back towards his pocket.
you swallow roughly as you reach into your purse.
“let me. you paid last time,” you say as you rifle around, searching for some cash. the bills are shoved to the bottom of your purse, but you eventually fish them out, counting them under your breath until steve stops you.
“no, hey no no.” he’s shaking his head disapprovingly, plopping his own money onto the check and putting it out at the edge of the table. your original waiter is back in a second, grabbing it with a smile and rushing off herself.
you huff, placing a tip on the table and stuffing the rest back into your purse. “you’re a jackass, you know that.”
“right. you can thank me later.”
you two share a heated look before turning away; you can feel your cheeks heating up slightly.
you lean back in your seat with a sigh, and steve copies you, both of you looking back across the table at robin.
she can’t help but chuckle at the sight before her. her two closest friends, nestled up together, blushing at her from across the table.
for steve harrington requests! i think a slice of life fic about steve and reader doing their hair together or like a morning routine in general would be very cute :) (ur great ily)
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Word count: ~640
Warnings: Fluff and sleepy Steve :)
a/n: You are great and ily more <3
____________________________________________
Steve’s presence was warm and heavy at your back, his chin pressed into the juncture of your neck, his arms loose but unyielding around your waist. He was swaying as you brushed your teeth, barely even able to crack an eye open and catch your adoring gaze, and you had to take his weight with you every time you reached across the bathroom counter.
You didn’t mind.
His lips moved on your neck. A sound—incoherent, but purposeful—warmed your chest.
“What was that?” you asked, a soft echo against the mirrored wall.
Steve shifted, moving his hands along your waist. “Let's stay home.”
And you would. You would stay home with Steve every day if time allowed it. You’d sleep in until orange hues became yellow and soft air became hot and you would kiss him and kiss him and kiss him. His hair would be splayed out on your chest as he laid against you and the clock would be obsolete.
But time wasn’t that kind; you had to go to get to class and make that eight a.m., and Steve needed to get to work.
So, you leaned your head back against his chest and huffed. Steve pressed his lips to the side of your head, hummed at your proximity and tugged you closer even though you were already as close as you could get.
He thought you were giving in.
You wish you were.
“We have responsibilities, Steven,” you chided, but the bite was lost when he nudged his nose to your cheek. “We have to be adults and do adult things.”
“I’ll do adult things with you.”
You scoffed, whipping around in his hold to challenge his sleepy pride with your exasperation. Wrong thing to do; Steve had you backed up against the bathroom counter in a second, tender hands coaxing you until you were seated with his body between your knees. And then he kissed you—like he would if you were sleeping in and he wanted you pressed further into the mattress.
“I miss you,” he mumbled between touches of your lips. “I miss you, baby. Let’s stay home.”
“I’m literally with you right now.”
“Doesn’t count.”
You laughed. Steve smiled—tired. In love with you. Ten seconds away from quitting his damn job and never returning just so he could follow you around that college campus.
You cut through his thoughts and his obvious, hungry stare at your mouth with a few words. “Let me do your hair.”
You could try—Steve would let you. He’d redo once you left, but if he could steal kisses from your concentrated face and keep you in this apartment for just a little bit longer, he’d go through a lot more.
“Depends,” he hummed, pretending that he was going to tell you anything but yes. A useless act, really. “You gonna use up all my hairspray again?”
“Probably. Your hair is very hard to tame,” you giggled, looping your finger through a few strands that had fallen onto his forehead. His hair was always so endearing in the morning, volume created by pillows and dreaming making your heart soft.
Steve pulled back from you for a moment, hands on your shoulders as he took you in. He ignored the harsh glare from the bathroom lights… pretended they were the sun and you were there in the middle of the day instead of the real life alternative. The one where you left in a few minutes and he didn’t see you again until the moon was there instead.
Steve did miss you. He wasn’t lying.
He would always miss you when you weren’t there.
“Of course you can do my hair, honey.”
It took a shower and an extra thirty minutes to fix his hair later. He’d still let you do it again tomorrow, if you asked.
| précis: kissing ur best friend, friends 2 lovers, cursing, kissing
| word count: 1,079
| an: y’all this SONG
“You know what would be like so weird?” You wonder, training your gaze on Steve’s ceiling fan.
“Huh?” He wonders, shoulder nudging yours.
His duvet is familiar under your back, the scent of his sheets and blankets more comforting than your own room. The warmth from his body bleeds into your own, radiating from his shoulder and hip, where he’s touching you. There’s not a person in the world you feel more comfortable around, safer. And maybe that’s the reason you don’t hesitate to share your thoughts with him.
