✧˚₊‧ frat! steve and his undying need for morning head !
frat! steve harrington is the type of douche to act like he needs a blowjob every single morning to have a good day.
he acts like getting his dick sucked is the best feeling in the world— having you slobber all over his thick dick, your hair all messy in his big hands that he totally doesn’t pull when you suck particularly good, the morning haze of sleep slowly cracking itself off when your lips seal around him and you bop your head up and down.
first thing in the morning, you’ll hear his groggy voice in your ear, his hands running up and down your body, playing with the hem of your leg wear— be it just underwear, sweatpants, or pajama bottoms, he’s playing with it, whispering some needy words about “need your mouth” and “please just suck me off”— all in that tone that drives you up a wall because of how fucking pathetic he sounds.
he needlessly pushes your head down all the way without warning, making you smell his fuckass happy trail and fucking the back of your throat with no care in the world. he loves feeling your hands on his stomach, struggling to get a grounding point as his tip presses against the back of your throat, spit dripping onto his balls and the mattress.
this fucking asshole pouts when he doesn’t get a blowjob in the morning— but he won’t force you to do it, but he will mope.
and maybe get on his own knees and beg you to suck him off in return for whatever you desire that day.
he’ll let you rack up his credit card, he’ll let you doll him up, he’ll let you just laze around the house. he’ll do anything to get your lips on his dick first thing in the morning.
because why have wet dreams about it when he has the real thing right beside him in bed?
click here for main masterlist! 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃
AUTHOR'S NOTE: frat! steve is my favorite because he’s such a fucking asshole but he’s such a whimpering bitch at the same time— like he’s the definition of a switch and I love it. he’s such a little bitch. ALSO WE HIT 2K AS I FINISH THIS SO THANK U SOOOOO FUCKING MUCH. 2000 FOLLOWERS IS INSANE! (a separate post will be sure to come because holy shit!)
thank you for all the support in every way possible! all support is very much appreciated! all content created on this blog is mine, do not copy or sent it through ai!
summary :: due to a mix up— you get stuck Steve as your roommate, and nothing in your dorm survives intact. between stolen hoodies, loud music, and surprise parties, enemies slowly turn into friends…and maybe more. by the end of the semester, laughter, chaos, and jealousy leads to the most unexpected love story.
pairing :: frat/college! Steve harrington x reader
you absolutely do not want to see steve tonight, but your friends convince you to go to his frat’s big party anyway. this is definitely not going to end badly.
warnings:
smut (18+), p in v, rough sex, sort of mean!steve but also not at all, drinking, modern au
word count: 3.3k
a/n:
i’m interested in writing more about frat steve if y’all like this and want more! requests are open :)
“Oh, come on,” your friend, Kayla, said. “It’s going to be fun.”
You weren’t so sure. It’s not that you didn’t like going to college parties, because you definitely did, it’s just that this one was being thrown at a specific frat house. At his frat house.
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I just don’t know.”
Your other friend, Jenna, spoke up then. “There’s gonna be so many people there, you probably won’t even see him.” She attempted to reassure you. You didn’t really believe it, but you wanted to make your friends happy.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll go.”
Kayla and Jenna both began screaming then, both of them wrapping their arms around you which made you laugh.
“It’s going to be amazing,” Kayla said, absolutely beaming. “This is supposed to be, like, the party of the year.”
You, Kayla, and Jenna all crowded into your dorm room to get ready for the party that night. Your entire closet was on your bed by the time you were dressed, since your friends wanted to see every option possible before you decided on an outfit. You ended up in a cute new top you’d bought recently and a short skirt. You felt hot, at least.
Your friends looked equally hot. You all crowded into the mirror together as you pulled your cell phone out and took a photo, all three of you smiling. You posted it on your story before the three of you left.
Living on campus, the frat house wasn’t far away. You all decided to drive in Kayla’s car anyways because none of you wanted to walk blocks in your outfits.
The three of you sang along to music loudly as Kayla drove, the excitement for the party already high. You were the only one who couldn’t relax and just be happy, your mind racing about whether you’d see him there. You felt like you would - how could you not? He was president of the whole fraternity. You regretted letting your friends talk you into this, but at the same time, you didn’t want to let him ruin yet another night.
The party was already going strong when you pulled up to the house. The lawn was dotted with drunk college students, empty red cups all over. The three of you linked arms as you walked up to the front door, always a unit.
You had to separate as soon as you walked into the house, however, the crowd pushing in at you on all sides. You tried your best to form a hand holding train to the kitchen, which worked well enough.
You laughed as the three of you stumbled into the kitchen, and you grabbed three red solo cups, handing one to each of your friends. You made your drink strong, you knew you’d need it tonight.
You were pleasantly surprised at how well the night started. You didn’t see him, you didn’t run too close to any of his asshole friends. You started your night getting tipsy and dancing with Kayla and Jenna, but of course they each ended up being pulled off by some guy, and you were left alone. You’d had multiple guys approach you, but you weren’t interested. You had just wanted to hang out with your girls tonight.
You found yourself heading back into the kitchen for another drink refill. You would have to come up with a new plan for the night since your friends had been distracted.
You poured another strong drink in your cup, taking a big sip immediately. You were already feeling pretty loose and comfortable, after this drink you felt like you’d be having a really good time.
Tommy found you in the kitchen, which wasn’t ideal, but he had Carol with him so you weren’t too upset. The couple practically cornered you, and you ended up in a conversation with them as you finished your drink. By the time you were done you really were having an amazing time, laughing so hard your stomach hurt at some story Tommy was telling.
“I wanna go dance now,” Carol said, rubbing her hand over Tommy’s chest. He looked down at her hand before meeting her eyes again, giving her a smirk.
“You got it, baby,” he said, grabbing her hand. “See you around,” he said to you with a nod.
“You should come dance, too!” Carol called as her boyfriend dragged her off.
You didn’t think that sounded like a terrible idea. You tossed your cup in the trash can as you walked - you were plenty tipsy for now and you’d just get another one if you wanted another drink.
Back on the makeshift dance floor, you let yourself feel the music, dancing alone. Carol smiled at you from across the floor, and you giggled back at her. You were feeling incredible.
The feeling of large hands on your hips and someone’s body pressing up behind you took you by surprise, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You danced on this mystery guy, grinding your ass back against his hips. You thought maybe you’d found your entertainment for the evening, until you heard that voice in your ear.
“Hey, pretty lady,” Steve hummed in your ear as he danced against you, pushing the bulge in his jeans up against your ass. His fingertips teased up your bare thighs, slightly pushing up your already tiny skirt.
You had done so well avoiding him all night, and now here he was, as close to you as he could get, his hands trailing under your skirt. And you weren’t pushing him away. Your skin tingles everywhere he touches. It always went the same way with him.
“Steve…” you breathed out, continuing to dance slowly to the music. Steve’s grip tightened on your body.
“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me…” he said, his voice low and right in your ear. He caressed your thighs as he danced against you, pulling you tightly against his own hips.
“No,” you lied, a blush rising to your cheeks that you were glad he couldn’t see. “I just didn’t see you.”
“Well here I am,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. Yeah, here he was.
“I’ve missed you,” he continued to purr in your ear. “You haven’t been texting me back.”
You fought back the urge to sigh. “You know why, Steve.”
Steve laughed lowly against your neck, his hands moving up to grip your hips and guide you back against him. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous.”
Steve liked to play games. You swore to yourself and your friends that you were over him, and you weren’t going back to him again. He was no good for you, he only ever wanted to fuck and then act like he doesn’t even know you at school. Yet every time you came face to face with him, you fell back into him every time.
You didn’t respond to Steve. You kept dancing on him instead, grinding your ass back against him until you could feel just how hard he was through his jeans.
He wasn’t shy about moving his hands wherever he wanted to go, starting from your hips up and over your stomach and breasts, then back down to feel your bare thighs again, hands reaching beneath your skirt until fingertips traced lightly over your panties.
You gasped at the feeling. You were suddenly aware of how exposed you were.
“Not here…” you mumbled back to him, hoping he could hear you over the blaring music.
You felt him grin against your neck. “Wanna go up to my room, then?”
You should have said no. You were going to say no. At least that’s what you tell yourself. In reality, you didn’t hesitate before you were nodding your head, which only made Steve grin wider.
He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, before pulling you through the party and up the stairs. You caught Jenna’s attention for a moment as Steve dragged you off, and she gave you a wide eyed look that said, Really?, to which you could only shrug. She shook her head at you as you followed Steve upstairs.
You had been in his room many times before, so this was nothing new. He locked the door behind you, turning to you with that cocky smile on his face.
“Did you wear this tiny little thing for me?” he asked as he walked right up on you, his fingers toying with the hem of your mini skirt.
“No,” you responded with a scoff. “What, I can’t want to look cute without it being for you?”
“Who else do you wanna impress?” he asked, chuckling darkly. He slid his hands beneath your skirt, cupping your ass in his large hands and squeezing.
“I’m not trying to impress anyone,” you huffed, but then Steve was leaning down and before you knew it his lips were on yours. You hesitated for only a second before you kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck. He felt you up as he kissed you, his hands continuing to feel your ass and play with the hem of your panties.
He pushed your panties down your legs, and you stepped out of them and kicked them away when you felt them hit the ground. He groaned, his hands having full access to wherever he wanted now.
He felt around your smooth legs, one hand sliding around your front until he was slipping a finger between your folds, feeling how slick you were already.
“So wet for me,” he groaned against your lips. “You always act like you don’t want me anymore, but your pussy always begs for me.”
He circled around your clit with a single fingertip and you leaned your head back, letting out a sigh of pleasure. Steve took the opportunity to attack your neck, biting and sucking at your skin before soothing it with his kisses. You figured he’d be leaving marks again. You knew you’d regret letting him do it tomorrow, but for now it just felt so good.
Steve moved his hands back up to your hips, then slid them up your sides, feeling the skin beneath your shirt until he was pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. He undid your bra with expert fingers, then he cupped your breasts with his hands, thumbs rubbing over your hardening nipples.
You tangled your hands in his perfectly styled hair, messing it all up. He didn’t complain as he moved back up to kiss you again, his tongue tracing along your lips until you let him in. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue pressed against yours as he kissed you deeply, making him smile into the kiss.
He pulled away from you with a smack to your ass. “Get on your hands and knees for me, baby.”
You moved to push your skirt down your legs, but he stopped you.
“No. I think I like the skirt,” he said, a smirk on his lips.
You smiled to yourself as you climbed onto his bed on your hands and knees, lowering your upper half to lay on his soft sheets, the side of your face pressed into the mattress.
Steve groaned in approval, flipping your skirt up and rubbing a hand over your ass as he took in the view. He gave it another harsh slap, causing you to jerk forward and moan out at the feeling.
You heard him quickly undressing himself. His shirt hitting the floor, his belt unbuckling and zipper coming undone as he pushed his jeans and boxers down.
You felt his hands on your hips as he positioned himself behind you, his hard cock grazing against your thigh as he adjusted himself.
You closed your eyes in anticipation, subconsciously moving your hips back against him, wanting to feel him inside you immediately.
He smacked your ass again, and you let out a mix between a yell and a moan.
“Always so eager for me…” he mumbled, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock and giving himself a couple quick strokes. He rubbed his tip between your glistening folds, coating his dick in your wetness.
You gasped when you felt him against your entrance, but you barely had time to think about it before he was thrusting in without warning, filling you completely in a second.
You screamed his name, your fists balling into the sheets, looking for some kind of leverage over the intense pleasure and slight pain from the stretch of him. Steve had a big dick, and he knew it.
You could hear the smirk in his voice even as he praised you, setting a brutal pace as he thrusted into your pussy. “Taking me so well, baby. She’s so fucking tight, every time for me.”
You moaned as he fucked you mercilessly, your eyes rolling back in your head and you thought you might also be drooling. Your brain was already hazy from the pleasure, when Steve reached forward, grabbing onto your shoulder so he could pull you back on his cock harder and faster.
You didn’t know if you could take much more of this. You felt your orgasm building fast, just from the perfect way he was fucking you. You felt like you had lost your mind and the only thing that was left was Steve and the way he was making you feel.
Steve grunted as he thrusted into you harshly while also pulling your body against his hips with every movement. His head dropped forward, hair hanging in his face, as he groaned loudly.
“Fuck, baby…” he panted out. “You have the perfect fucking cunt. I’ve never fucked a pussy this good, I swear to god.”
You whined at the compliment, arching your back as he took everything he wanted from your body. And you were happy to let him do it.
Steve reached one hand around your body to rub quick circles against your clit. You were already close just from his dick, so when you felt his touch you cried out, eyes closing hard and desperate moans spilling from your lips as you came hard around his cock. You tensed around him, making him groan loudly as he only pounded into you faster, chasing his own release.
“Yeah…that’s it, good girl,” he grunted out as he leaned his whole body over you. He rutted into you nearly desperately at this point, his grip on your hip tightening until you were sure it would leave a bruise.
“Fuck…gonna cum,” he groaned, and you felt his thrusts becoming more frantic and sloppy. “Can I cum inside?”
“Yes,” you answered him immediately. “Please. I’m good. I want you to.” You were practically begging him, it was your favorite way for him to finish and you felt like you needed it desperately.
Steve moaned, moving his hand up to grab your hair as he buried his face in your neck, thrusting into your pussy from behind at that brutal pace until he pushed in one last time, moaning your name before he groaned as he filled you deeply. You felt the warmth of him deep inside you and you whined, pushing your hips back against him as if wanting more even though you were both now utterly spent.
Steve tried to catch his breath as he laid over you. Realizing you were probably uncomfortable with all his weight on you, he carefully pulled out, rolling onto his side next to you.
Your body felt used in the best way. You ached, both from and for him. You were always insatiable when it came to Steve, that was one of your many problems.
Steve stood, pulling his boxers and jeans back on. You still hadn’t even moved from your position on your stomach, feeling like your body was made of jelly.
“You should get cleaned up and get back out there,” he said, pulling his shirt on over his head. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to fix it.
You looked over at him. You always wished he’d stay, even just for a little while. Cuddle a little, maybe. But this was King Steve and he didn’t do things like that.
You lifted your aching body from the bed, feeling a little embarrassed as you had to nakedly hunt for your clothes on the floor. You found your top, but couldn’t find your panties anywhere until Steve tossed them to you with a smirk.
“I would have kept them, but with that little thing,” he eyed your skirt hungrily, like he wanted to get beneath it again, “I think you need ‘em more than I do.”
You blushed, sliding your panties back on. “You’re a pig.”
Steve laughed, leaning over to look at himself in the mirror attached to his dresser. He fixed his hair a little more, and then he was heading to the door.
“Take your time in here,” he said, unlocking and opening the door. He slipped through, careful not to expose your still topless form to anyone in the hallway. He looked back at you before he fully left. “I’ll text you,” he said, giving you a wink, and then he was gone.
You sighed as you pulled the rest of your clothes back on. You felt the same way you always did after you ended up sleeping with Steve again - guilty, angry at yourself. But also longing for more from him, which was probably the part of yourself you hated the most.
You slipped out of his bedroom, straightening your clothes and hair. You managed to get back to the party undetected.
You swore that you weren’t going to let Steve ruin your night, and you didn’t plan to let that change even though you’d fucked him again.
You went back into the kitchen, making yourself another drink. Steve was across the room, leaning against the wall and talking to a group of people hanging on his every word. This included at least three girls, one of which was literally hanging on his arm.
You rolled your eyes and walked into the living room, drinking from your cup as you walked. You wanted to get drunk now, forget all about Steve. Again.
Jenna caught your eye as you entered the room, and she left the guy she’d been with the whole night to run over and grab your arm.
“What the fuck was that?” she hissed at you, not wanting the whole party to hear. “Did you fuck him again?”
The look on your face was answer enough. Jenna sighed and looked at you like she was disappointed, which made you feel terrible.
“Come on, girl. I love you. You need to respect yourself more than that.”
You knew she was right, but you didn’t want to think about it anymore. You tugged on her hand. “I don’t want to talk about him. Come on, come dance with me.”
She looked at you strangely as she let you lead her to the dance floor. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, concerned.
“I’m great,” you assured her, a smile plastered to your lips. “I just want to have fun tonight, okay?”
She looked at you for a few seconds longer, but then she gave in, sighing and squeezing your hand. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s dance.”
You smiled gratefully at her, and the two of you started dancing along to the music. The current song ended, and the one that came on next happened to be your friend group’s favorite. You both laughed and began singing along, Kayla running from wherever she had been all night to join in dancing with you.
You didn’t need Steve or any guy to have a good time. Even though you let him in again, let yourself be let down by him again, you could push that out of your mind. Right?
He watched you from across the room as you danced with your friends. You could feel his eyes burning into you, but you only allowed yourself to look up once, only for a moment. He turned his attention back to the girl he was talking to the second your eyes met, but you saw him.
You were tired of stressing over Steve. Fuck Steve.
Whatever. You were going to have fun. The night was still young.
as always, comments and reblogs are so appreciated!
Thank you so much for these blurbs I’m eating each one up!! And congrats on your 1k you deserve it!!
Im requesting steve x reader W7 r4 s11 k22
okay i'm having a vision w/ this one...walk with me now...
contains: MDNI 18+ frat boy!steve, afab!reader, friend's w/ benefits, semi-public sex (party), oral (f receiving), degradation
emma's 1k celebration
Another weekend, another kegger. If you'd known this campus was just a party school masquerading as a liberal arts college, you would've never come. But this was the lifestyle here, and it was too late in the year to transfer now.
Your eyes scan the crowded frat house, dirty and congested. There was a particularly sweaty man with a chiseled set of abs doing a keg stand, the look on his face screaming I am about to projectile vomit, so you venture further into the kitchen in search of more alcohol.
You know Steve must be here somewhere, but you've managed to go the entire night without bumping into him. The lack of notes slid under your dorm room door and late-night fucks in the back of his bimmer would lead you to believe he's actually angry with you, which coaxes a dry scoff from your lips to even consider.
The entire freshman class was talking about it now: how you and Bryce Thompson had slept together after a night of particularly poor judgment calls. Not your finest moment, but nothing Steve fucking Harrington should have his stupid pastel polo in a twist over. It's not as if the two of you were exclusive.
As if you'd summoned him by thought alone, a rough hand is grasping your forearm and dragging you into the downstairs half-bath, locking the door behind you.
"What the fuck is your problem, Steve!?" You admonish, wrenching your arm from his grasp.
"No," he bites, "what the fuck is your problem." It's not a question.
Your eyes roll so hard you worry they might get stuck that way, "Don't tell me this is about--"
"Bryce Thompson? You slept with that fucking meathead? He wouldn't know how to fuck you right if it slapped him in the face."
"What does it matter to you, Steve?" You ask, incredulous, trying to move past him to the locked bathroom door. "You made it quite clear that you're not interested in being exclusive and-- you mean to tell me that you haven't slept with a single other girl since we started seeing each other?"
"No," he replies, jaw tight, "I haven't."
"Bullshit."
Steve grabs you by the chin then, forcing you to face him. Nose to nose, he all but whispers, "Did he fuck you like I do? Huh?" Then, when you don't answer: "Did he make you come like I do?"
And you'd never admit it aloud to Steve, probably not even yourself, but no, he didn't. No one's ever had you like Steve has you. That's the problem. That's why, in leu of a real response, you smash your lips against his; hoping to convey every ounce of frustration and pure, unadulterated need you have for him.
Steve drops to his knees then, pushing your denim skirt up with the palms of his hands to reveal a pair of lace panties. He mouths at your damp sex through the fabric, kissing the junction of your thigh and pelvis.
"Such a little slut," Steve's deft fingers push the lace to the side, allowing him to nose at your clit. "No one gets to have you like this-- you understand me?"
"Yes," you gasp, throwing your head back with a mewl where you're propped against the marble countertop.
"So fucking easy." He laments before laving at your bare pussy, making out with your folds like he has something to prove. One of your legs gets thrown over his shoulder, opening you up for him that much more.
He eats you out like he argues with you: passionate and angry, two fingers breaching your entrance without so much as a warning; pistoning into you repeatedly until you're falling apart at his whim.
"Fuck, Steve!" You cry; one hand white-knuckling the sink while the other fists in his chestnut hair, keeping him exactly where you want him.
He lets his thumb replace his tongue so he can run his mouth a little more, "That's right, baby. Let them all hear who's fucking you like this."
The room is filled with the sounds of Steve's deep, throaty groaning and your much higher pitched whining and breathy whimpers until you're coming undone hard on his mouth and fingers. Your stomach tenses and your torso contracts involuntarily, essentially cradling Steve against your body.
You relent after a few, blissful moments; Steve rising steadily from the floor and engulfing your mouth with his once more, a hand resting dangerously close to your throat. He tastes distinctly like you.
"Get in the car," he tells you, huffing into your temple but not quite pressing a kiss there, "I'm taking you home."
Def think frat!steve would see someone at the house party reading a book and after an internal what the fuck, he’d approach to ask:
“So is that any good?”
You lay a finger underneath your current sentence before looking up to find some guy wearing a backwards baseball cap and holding a red solo cup in the midst of a rager, but somehow, he’s singularly focused on you.
“Anna Karenina?”
He nods taking a sip from his drink, as someone passes him with a hearty clap to his shoulder.
“Oh, it’s uh, well,” You stammer, trying and failing to distill 864 pages of Russian literature into a coherent sentence.
And somehow he’s still there, through the whoops and shouts of the fraternity’s name as well as his own— Harrington, if the shouts are to be believed.
“She takes a very sad train,” is what you settle on.
“And you like it?” He sets his drink to the side, crossing his arms over this chest as his eyes flit over your features. “This sad stuff?”
You shrug, dog earning the page and setting the book beside you.
“All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life is made up of light and shadow. Anything is better than lies and deceit!”
He raises his brows, confused and more than a little intrigued by your answer.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I got your name—”
He’s cut off by someone shoulder-checking him on their way down the stairs.
“We’re leaving,” She says, sniffling all the while.
Your expression falls taking in your friend’s demeanor— red eyes, raw nose and bitten lips.
“Right, of course,” You say, scrambling for your purse. You give him a pained look, at a loss while trailing after your friend.
In all the commotion, you leave your book behind. Steve grabs it and hustles out the door, hoping to catch you before it’s too late.
But once he’s reached the front yard, crowded with people and beer cans that crunch under his feet, you’re already gone.
Eddie’s idling on the stoop as Steve takes a seat, letting out a long sigh.
“Hooked on phonics, aren’t we big guy?” He drawls, with a nod to the book at his feet.
Steve shrugs and looks longingly out into the night.
Eddie, curious, picks up the book and opens the front cover, more than prepared to read aloud the first sentence in a dramatic fashion just to clown on Steve. He stops, taking in the scrawl of a name, and reads that out instead.
“Shit, no way,” Steve says, snatching the book back and reading the name for himself.
Eddie barks a laugh, “Figure it out, man. But you heard it here first,” He lays a hand on Steve’s shoulder and pushed himself up. “Any chick reading Tolstoy is definitely out of your league.”
Steve smirks up at him, thumbing through the pages and wondering if you’re in that literature class of his. “Wanna bet?”
hello m, i hope u r well. it is my bday today so i wanted to request a blurb if that's cool :). maybe something fluffy about bug and steve celebrating his bday or if ur feeling it, another peek of frat!steve (cool if u want to keep that under wraps for now though). bye, have a nice day!
AH HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY DEAR !!!!! i can DEFINITELY provide more frat!steve, especially because i finally have a clear vision for him that i am absolutely dying to how yall once im done with come home <33
i introduce to yall vixen ;)
enjoy !
"what the hell are you doing here?"
steve looks up, surprised to hear your voice despite being the one in your room. his eyes are wide, his posture straightens, and you can practically hear his scared gulp when he realizes youre back far sooner than he thought youd be.
youve caught steve harrington sitting on your bed, next to your little brother who has only ever been shy around strangers. and yet, as you stand before them, your brother eyes steve with wonder with the remnants of laughter on his face at something hes said.
hearing your voice as well, dustin turns and his smile only brightens when he sees you. "oh, hey, y/n."
"what are you doing?" you storm into your room, throwing your backpack at steve. he lets out a grunt when the object collides roughly into his stomach, and dustin makes a surprised noise. "why are you with my brother?"
"woah, hey-" steve ducks as you go to hit him with the shoe youve kicked off with impressive speed. he jumps from your bed and runs to the other side of the room. "ow, you goddamn vixen!"
"dont call me that in front of my brother," youre seething. how fucking dare he. after everything hes done to you. the rules youve each agreed to. the lines neither one of you have dared to cross. and now here steve is, in the same room as your brother, far too close to the fire youve tried so desperately to keep at a low burn.
"im right here, you know." dustin finally says from the bed. he doesnt have any idea whats going on or why youre throwing shoes at his new friend. dustins train had gotten in earlier than expected and he called you to come get him, but you never answered his thirty calls.
you cast a quick glance towards your brother, feeling the sting in your eyes as tears threaten to come. you try to swallow them down as you press your cool palm against your overheated and flustered skin. "please, not now, dustin."
"vixen-i, uh. i mean henderson, no. shit-" steve stumbles over his words as he rubs his bruised arm. your aim is far too good. its frightening, actually. "y/n, look-"
he hasnt called you by your name ever since youve known him. ever since the agreement had been made. youve only ever been henderson to him, vixen, bitch, tease.
never your name.
"get. out." you dont want to see him. this is all too fucking much for you. dustin wasnt supposed to know about steve. they were never supposed to meet. steve is the type of person you guys make fun of. tease and make jokes about. dustin has always hated guys like steve, the overly charismatic and repugnant type who join frats and sleep with every warm body they meet.
the type who kiss girls and make them feel as if they mean anything to them.
the type tommy had been.
dustin hated tommy. he hated him the entire five years you were together.
and now here dustin is, laughing with steve only moments before you walked into the room. you dont understand how the hell you got here.
lost in your head, you dont notice that steve has stepped so close to you until his hand falls softly on your arm. the touch causes you to flinch away, it burns you. knowing hes gone too far, steve backs away from you and puts his hands in the air. "hey, its okay. im sorry, alright? i-i know things arent, uh..."
steve looks at dustin, who stares at the two of you with a knowing look on his face. hes already figured out more than you ever wanted him to. dustin has always been too fucking smart for his own good. steve seems to recognize this, too, and clears his throat. "look. i know youre angry with me. i dont blame you, alright? but the kid called nancy earlier, apparently you hadnt picked up, and he needed a ride here and she had her exam and i-i just... she called me. it was getting dark outside and nancy was frantic. thats it. thats why im here."
you refuse to look at steve. while youre still infuriated and hurt by what he did earlier, you cant help but admit that he did a good thing. he stepped up, even though he knew youd throw a shoe at him in the end. like the fucking prince charming that he is. always good, always kind to everyone around him. sickeningly sweet, yet you know what really lies beneath his charming persona.
instead of voicing any of this out loud, you sit next to dustin and gently run your fingers through his hair. hes getting too old for this, you know that, but still your fingers tangle in his curls anyways. "i thought your train arrived at seven tonight?"
"so did i. ended up stranded in the middle of nowhere for an hour." dustin responds, knowing you still need a few moments to collect yourself. he may not know who steve is to you, but he isnt blind. the guy has royally pissed you off, but still he had been kind to dustin. so clearly he wasnt too bad. "thanks for that, by the way."
"im sorry," you sigh out, remorseful. "i... i got caught up in something."
"something, or someone?"
you glare at steve. "i wasnt talking to you.
"no, but im sure you were talking to prescott."
dustins eyes widen. "youre talking to that dickhead tommy again?"
"oh, henderson, we have so much to talk about!" steve high fives your brother with glee. "tell me, when did you first realize your hatred for thomas prescott?"
"the moment i learned his last name was prescott."
"its a god awful last name, isnt it? makes the asshole even more pretentious, which shouldnt even be possible."
dustin and steve gravitate towards each other eagerly, ready to share insults about the boy you once loved so dearly, and youre sick of it all. your stomach twists, your skin crawls. its too much for you. after what youve learned tonight about tommy, hearing his name over and over again threatens to make you sick. on the verge of a nervous breakdown, you slam your shoulder against steves and run into the bathroom.
summary:: another groggy and unfamiliar waking, a cute date and you and steve finally letting go of everything that’s been pent up
18++ minors do not interact!!
masterlist chapt 1 prev chapt
word count :: 4.9k
pairings :: frat/college!Steve Harrington x reader
content warnings :: smut (finally), unprotected piv, semi public sex? car sex, oral m!recieving, brief handjob, fluff
note :: finally finished my first series!!! next is a halloween oneshot👀👀 i don’t have any uni for the next week so im just going to be writing and writing— requests are open! as always thanks for reading!!
i do not allow my content to be stolen, copied or reposted anywhere else. do not put my work through any ai tools or generators
(stop using ai for gods sake.)
⋆ ♱ ˚｡⋆
You wake up in Steve’s arms, the morning light bleeding through thin curtains and slicing across your face.
Your vision is still foggy, the kind of heavy blur that comes after too much drinking and not enough water.
When things finally sharpen, you realize immediately this isn’t your dorm.
There are band posters plastered haphazardly across the walls, names you’ve never even heard of. A half-torn Playboy centerfold hangs crooked near the nightstand.
The walls are dark red with a white trim, making the whole place feel like a teenage boy’s fever dream.
Your head throbs, every pulse echoing in your temples. The last clear thing you remember is the confession. The rest of the night dissolves into pieces.
Laughter, alcohol, maybe music. Everything else is a blur. Which, honestly, explains why you feel like death and why you’re currently wrapped up in Steve Harrington’s bare chest in someone else’s bed.
You shift slightly, careful not to wake him, but his arm tightens around you instinctively.
He groans, face buried in the pillow, hair a mess of curls, and you can’t help the grin that creeps up your face.
Perfect time to mess with him.
“Steve?”
You whisper it, feigning confusion.
“Mmm?”
His voice is rough, still half-asleep.
You pause dramatically.
“Why am I in bed with you?”
That gets him. His head shoots up, eyes immediately wide and guilty, like he’s just been caught committing a felony.
“Do you not remember last night?”
You tilt your head, frowning.
“Nope.”
“Wait— like none of it?”
He looks horrified. His voice cracks a little, and you swear for a second he’s about to cry.
You can’t hold it anymore. A laugh bursts out of you.
“I’m messing with you, babe— oh, no, don’t cry!”
You dissolve into laughter, burying your face in his shoulder. He groans, hiding in your hair to muffle his own laugh, shaking his head.
“Okay— okay, shoot the one who actually cares”
He says, voice warm against your ear.
You grin, still snickering.
“I actually don’t remember anything from after the confession though.”
“We kept drinking,”
Steve says immediately, like the memory suddenly snaps back into place.
“And now we’re in a stranger’s room.”
“And now we’re in a stranger’s room”
He echoes, mocking your tone, which only makes you laugh harder.
“Although— I think we’re at Gamma Zeta,”
He adds, sitting up slightly, scanning the room like an investigator.
You let out a strangled half-laugh, half-groan.
“The names keep getting stupider— what are you doing?”
He’s palming the burgundy walls now, squinting.
“it’s 100% GZ with these walls.”
“GZ”
You repeat, giggling, the room falls quiet for a beat, dust glinting lazily in the air.
Steve’s hand finds your waist again, tugging you closer until your back hits his chest. His skin is warm, the rise and fall of his breathing slow and steady against your spine.
“I don’t wanna get up yet”
He mutters into your hair, voice still rough from when he woke up.
“Steve—”
You groan, though it comes out softer than intended.
“-I’m not staying here.”
He yawns, the sound rumbling in your ear as his fingers start tracing idle lines up and down your arm.
“But I have a headache”
He complains, like a five year old trying to skip school.
“You’re not the only one with a headache— we need to go.”
He just hums, ignoring you entirely, his nose brushing the back of your neck.
“Just five more minutes.”
You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he only tightens his arms around you, the movement making you laugh despite yourself.
“Steve—”
“Nope”
He says, the word muffled as he buries his face in your shoulder.
“You’re stuck. I’m holding you hostage.”
“You’re impossible”
You say, turning your head slightly to look at him. His hair is sticking up, eyes half-open and glinting with that familiar, lazy grin that always seems to get its way.
“You’re still smiling.”
He murmurs
You roll your eyes, but your lips betray you.
“You’re ridiculous.”
He shrugs, still holding you tight.
“Maybe. But this is the nicest hangover I’ve ever had.”
You laugh quietly, head falling back against his shoulder.
“You’re gonna regret saying that when we have to explain why we’re in someone’s bed.”
He groans again, dramatic as ever.
“Fine. But if I die on the walk back, it’s on you.”
“Deal”
You say, untangling yourself from him and standing up. He stays lying there, watching you with that soft, sleepy look that makes your stomach twist in the best way.
“C’mon, Romeo”
You toss his shirt at him.
“We’ve got to make our escape before whoever actually sleeps here gets back.”
⋆ ♱ ˚｡⋆
28TH NOVEMBER
You and Steve had been unofficially - but officially- going out for three weeks now.
Everything felt lighter, easier. Like the air between you had finally stopped buzzing.
You were actually less stressed knowing you could come home to a boyfriend who would hold you in his sleep, murmur nonsense against your neck, or keep you laughing with his stupid jokes that were somehow always funny at 2 a.m.
The line of tape that once divided your room. The little cold war of space. Was now gone.
You’d fought to keep it, obviously. Called it ‘a necessary boundary.’ But Steve had given you that look, the one with the soft brown eyes and the faint smile that tilted like a promise. You didn’t stand a chance.
Now, his half of the room had started to creep into yours, his shirts draped over your chair, your hair ties on his bedside table, two toothbrushes in the same cup.
“You know”
Steve says, voice low and lazy from behind you.
“We haven’t gone on a date yet.”
You glance over your shoulder. He’s half-sitting, half-lying behind you, one arm slung loosely around your waist.
His hair, a little messy from where you’d been absentmindedly running your fingers through it.
The two of you had been watching The Princess Diaries— your pick, of course, because Steveneeded to be cultured.
The room glowed faintly from the laptop playing the film, the soft blues and pinks reflecting across his face.
You smile, leaning back into his chest.
“This is a date.”
He scoffs, breath warm against your ear.
“This is you forcing me to watch a movie about tiaras.”
You turn your head just enough to catch the edge of his grin.
“And you’re loving it.”
Steve hums, pretending to think.
“Hmm… I love you, not sure about the tiaras.”
You freeze for half a second— long enough that he notices. But then you’re both smiling like idiots, your heart tripping over itself.
“Nice save”
You say softly.
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Didn’t need saving.”
“So—”
He continues after a beat, voice casual.
“-About that date.”
You groan, throwing your head back against his shoulder.
“Steve, we live together. You literally see me brush my teeth. I think we’re past the first date stage.”
“Okay. Yeah, but I still want to take you out. Like, a proper dinner— candles, waiter, me in a shirt that doesn’t have stains on it.”
You twist around to look at him.
“I’m not doing the whole fake polite small talk thing. ‘So, what’s your major?’— Steve, you’ve seen me cry over a dead plant. I think we’re good.”
He blinks, pretending to be offended.
“Wow. Shooting down romance just like that.”
“I’m saving you from embarrassment.”
Steve huffs dramatically, reaching over to grab his phone from the nightstand.
“Alright, Miss too-cool-for-dates, let’s see what the internet says.”
You peek over as he opens his browser.
“Oh my god, you’re actually googling date ideas?”
He shoots you a mock glare.
“I’m trying to be romantic here!”
You laugh, watching him scroll.
“What’s next? A buzzfeed quiz on ‘what kind of boyfriend are you?’”
Steve ignores you, scrolling through the list like it’s the most serious thing in the world.
“Okay, dinner… picnic— boring… painting class— no chance in hell…”
Then he stops.
“drive-in movie.”
Your head perks up.
“Wait. Yes.”
He turns to you, eyebrows raised.
“Really?”
“Really. It’s perfect. Snacks, a blanket. You can even wear sweatpants.”
He grins, thumb already tapping through the link.
“You’re in luck, Harrington magic strikes again. There’s one like, forty minutes away. Starts in an hour.”
You sit up so fast the blanket slides off the bed.
“We can actually make that if we don’t waste time.”
Steve’s already moving, grabbing his jacket and keys like he’s on a mission.
“Okay, grab whatever you need— I’ll handle the car.”
You roll your eyes, grinning as you throw on a hoodie.
“Steve Harrington, planning a date in under 30 minutes. You’ve officially peaked.”
He flashes you that lopsided, too confident smile as he backs toward the door.
“Oh, baby, just wait till you see my trunk setup.”
You snort.
“That sounds weirder than you think it does”
He winks, disappearing into the hallway.
“Guess you’ll have to find out.”
You smile to yourself before collecting your things: reaching into the mini fridge for two bottles of Gatorade, stealing Steve’s half eaten sour patch bag, and, after a moment of hesitation, sliding a condom into your wallet… just in case.
When you step outside, the air’s cool, humming with the kind of excitement that only comes from spontaneous plans.
The car’s already running, headlights dim, music low. Steve’s drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, mouthing the lyrics to some beatles song.
“Ready?”
He grins, sunglasses on even though it’s dark out.
“You look ridiculous.”
“Hot”
He corrects, wiggling his brows.
You roll your eyes, tossing the snacks into his lap before buckling up.
“Drive, Harrington.”
The forty minutes fly by. The two of you sing off-key the entire way. Steve tries to hit the high notes multiple times, but fails horribly which makes you laugh so hard you can barely breathe.
Every time he glances over, you catch that soft, almost disbelieving smile that’s started to live on his face more often lately.
By the time you pull into the drive-in lot, your voice is half gone and your stomach hurts from laughing. There are only five or six other cars scattered around, their silhouettes glowing faintly under the big, white movie screen.
Steve parks slightly off center, far enough that you get your privacy, but close enough that you can still hear the faint chatter of other couples around.
“This is perfect”
You say, peering through the windshield.
“Of course it is”
He says, smug, climbing out of the car.
“Harrington magic, remember?”
You hop out after him and immediately notice he’s already halfway through pulling things from the trunk— blankets, pillows, even one of his hoodies.
“When did you become the perfect boyfriend?”
You tease, taking a blanket from him.
He smirks.
“Since I realized you like being impressed.”
“I don’t”
You shoot back, shaking out the blanket and tossing it dramatically into the seat of the car.
“Yes you do”
He says, stepping close enough that his breath warms your cheek.
“You get that little smug smile when I do something right.”
You pause, trying not to melt.
“You’re such a loser.”
“Yeah I know”
He says softly, leaning an elbow against the car beside you.
You shove him lightly, laughing to hide the way your stomach flips.
He grins and tosses a pillow into the back seat.
“Get in, princess. The movie’s starting soon.”
“You’re not calling me that.”
“Too late”
He says, sliding in next to you as the opening credits flicker onto the screen.
You shake your head but curl into him anyway.
The sour patch bag is open between you, Steve’s arm is snug around your waist. The world outside the car fades.
The static of the speakers, the glow of the screen. It’s just you and Steve, laughing at nothing, half-watching the movie, half getting lost in the warmth of each other.
When he looks down at you halfway through the film, eyes soft and stupidly full of adoration, you can’t help but whisper,
“Okay, fine. Maybe this is a good date idea.”
“Told you”
He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hairline.
“You just needed the right guy.”
You look up at him, smiling.
“Cocky”
He grins.
“Confident”
You kiss him quick, teasing, sugar-sweet from the candy and then settle back against him as the movie light washes over your faces.
The film feels like it goes ten times quicker with Harrington pressed so close to you.
One minute you’re sharing Sour Patch Kids and teasing him for tearing up at a rom com ending, and the next, the credits are rolling and the glow from the screen fades back into the night.
You didn’t want the night to end. Not yet.
The air feels too perfect, warm enough to stay out, and the world feels quieter than usual, like it’s giving you both permission to exist in this bubble a little longer.
Steve catches your expression and smiles knowingly.
“One more stop?”
You nod without thinking, and ten minutes later he’s driving again, the headlights slicing through the darkness until the road opens up to a hilltop overlooking the town.
The city below twinkles, clusters of yellow lights and winding streets. He parks, turns off the engine, and the silence that follows feels almost sacred.
You both climb onto the hood of the car, wrapped in a shared blanket. The metal’s still warm under you, the fabric smells faintly like his cologne and your shampoo tangled together.
“Not bad, Harrington”
You whisper.
He chuckles softly.
“I know. I’m full of surprises.”
The stars sprawl endlessly above you, but when you tilt your head toward Steve, you realize he’s not looking at them at all. His eyes are on you. Quiet and unreadable, but filled with that same awe you’d always dismissed as teasing.
“What?”
You ask, trying to play it off with a small laugh.
He shrugs lightly, eyes still fixed on you.
“Just thinking… if you told me a couple months ago that I’d be sitting here, doing this, with you I’d probably laugh in your face.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah”
He says, smiling faintly.
“Mostly because I thought you hated me.”
“I did.”
He laughs, that soft, boyish sound that still manages to knock the air out of your lungs.
“You’re supposed to deny that.”
“You were loud. And cocky. And impossible to ignore.”
You admit, voice quieter now.
He hums in response, leaning back on his hands.
“I guess it worked in my favour”
You roll your eyes, but he catches your hand, weaving his fingers through yours. The gesture feels so easy, so natural, that you almost forget this wasn’t your reality a month ago.
“So, future plans?”
He asks suddenly, eyes on the horizon.
“Like… where do you see yourself after this?”
You shrug, thinking.
“Hopefully somewhere warm. Somewhere quiet. With a place that actually has a working heater.”
“Ambitious”
He teases.
“I think I’d like to write—”
You start
“-Which sounds stupid, but I don’t know… I don’t want to sound like a freak.”
Steve turns his head toward you, the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly.
His hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair from your face, fingertips lingering before his palm settles against your cheek.
“It’s not stupid”
He says quietly, and the softness in his voice makes your chest ache in the best way.
“I just… love writing”
You admit.
“-And words. Maybe an English teacher?”
He hums in agreement, thumb stroking absent circles against your jaw.
“You’d be good at that.”
And when his hand finally slips away, you almost shiver at the loss, at how the air feels colder without him touching you.
“What about you?”
He’s quiet for a second, like he’s really thinking about it. Then, with that same casual sincerity that’s somehow become his trademark, he says,
“I just want a family. And a nice house, big enough for six kids.”
You whip your head around so fast you almost fall off the hood.
“Six kids?”
He nods, dead serious.
“Yeah. Three boys, three girls. Maybe a dog. Something fluffy and dumb. And we can build a treehouse for them in the backyard—”
“-Steve, we’ve been dating for two weeks.”
He laughs, eyes crinkling.
“Technically two months if you count the part where we were basically together but in denial.”
You can’t even argue with that. You smack his arm lightly instead.
“Six kids is insane. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”
“Yeah, I babysat these kids back in hawkins”
He says easily, smiling at the memory, eyes pointed towards the starry sky.
“It’s loud, messy, chaotic. But good. You know? The kind of chaos that makes everything feel full.”
Your lips curve upwards.
“Every only child’s dream, huh?”
“Exactly.”
You lean back beside him, letting the quiet stretch between you. The stars feel closer up here, the air softer. You glance over and find him watching you again instead of the sky, that half-smile tugging at his lips.
“What?”
You whisper, he shrugs.
“Just trying to picture you yelling at six mini Harringtons.”
“Oh god.”
He grins, leaning closer, voice dropping to a murmur.
“I think you’d be great at it.”
You roll your eyes, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck.
“You’re out of your mind.”
“Maybe”
He says, still smiling, still looking at you instead of the stars.
“But you love me anyway.”
A beat passes and you can still feel his gaze on you.
“You’re staring”
You whisper.
“Yeah”
He says, voice rough around the edges.
“You’re so beautiful, I can’t help it.”
You mean to say something back, something teasing, but all that comes out is a breath when his hand slides up the side of your neck. His thumb traces your jaw, and then finally his mouth finds yours.
It’s not soft this time. It’s months of everything you’ve both been holding back, heat and want and relief all tangled into one messy, perfect kiss.
His fingers twist in your hair and you clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer, desperate for more. The blanket slips from your shoulders and hits the ground, forgotten.
You feel him smile against your lips, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out between kisses, right before he deepens it again hungrier this time, more urgent.
The cold air bites at your skin, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except the way he’s kissing you like you’re oxygen.
“Car”
He murmurs
You nod without thinking. You’re already moving, hands tangled, tripping over the blanket and half-running back to the car.
The two of you slide into the backseat, faces still pressed against each other. Each lingering touch from Steve sending a buzz down your spine.
He pulls you on top of him and a noise exits your lips when you feel him— hard in his sweatpants.
“Already?”
You speak, muffled against his lips
“You just do that to me”
He replies, his mouth finding your jaw— lacing it with kisses before lowering down to your neck.
You let out a sigh that you didn’t know you were holding, moving your head to give him more access. You snake your hand down towards his stomach, slowly dipping your fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers.
His breath hitches when your fingers tap his head. His cock jumping with every shift of your hand
“Fuck— fuck wait”
He breathes out and you immediately go pink.
“Shit sorry—“
You say, pulling your hand back up to rest it against your thigh.
“No don’t apologise, it’s just—”
His eyes are now open, his expression turning almost shy but still boyish.
“I don’t think I’ll last long if you do that.”
That makes you laugh and then your lips are slamming back against his. His tongue grazes your lower lip before entering your mouth.
Time slows as the two of your faces stay pressed together. The car feels warmer, the only noises filling the tight space is the light panting when you or Steve gasp for air.
Before you can think, your hands are moving to pry off your own shirt. You groan in annoyance when one particular button isn’t budging.
Steve pulls away, lips wet and swollen. He lightly laughs before reaching to help.
“Here, let me”
The shirt is off you in seconds, leaving you in just a bra.
A noise leaves Steve at the sight of you, he’s immediately pressing his lips against your collarbone. Muttering hot praises against your skin, his hands quickly find the clasp of your bra. He unclips it, slowly sliding it off your arms before tossing it to the pit of the car.
“Your so fucking pretty”
Steve groans at your bare chest, his mouth moving towards your nipple, teasing as he rolls the other one between his fingers.
A trail of moans exits your lips as your hands move to pull off his shirt too.
The rest of your clothes are shortly removed after, leaving the two of you bare in Steve’s backseat.
He shifts your legs so that you’re fully straddling him, his puppy eyes looking at you with full awe from below.
“Not to be corny— but i’ve dreamt about shit like this.”
You smirk, placing a light kiss to the edge of his mouth.
“Am I living up to that standard?”
You say, your breath hot against his flushed cheeks.
“Your so much better— oh fuck”
He moans at the feeling of your fingers around the base of his cock, you stroke him slowly— almost teasing before sliding the flushed tip between your already soaked folds
“Fuck your so wet”
Steve groans, his hands reaching your hips, softly caressing and digging into the flesh.
“You just do that to me”
You echo his words from earlier before slowly sliding down onto his cock.
The condom you had brought, had unfortunately been solely forgotten in the moments of bliss leading up to this.
You let out a straight up pornographic moan at the feeling of Steve’s cock filling you, soft and light sounds following after at the feeling of pain mixed with pleasure.
You don’t move for a couple of seconds, your walls adjusting to the new breach.
“Your so tight fuck”
Steve babbles against your neck, his hot breath heating up your side. You can feel him twitching inside of you as you slowly start to slide up and down, your slick coating Steve’s cock.
The teasing part of Steve is immediately gone at the feeling of your hips bouncing, he’s fully putty underneath your body, letting out groans and noises you swear could pass off as moans.
It only turns you on more as your pace begins quickening, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter.
“Fuck Steve”
You moan out, your hands wrapping around his neck.
“You close baby?”
You nod, another noise exiting your lips as your pace became uneven. Every movement of your hips feeling heavier and heavier.
“Cmon— come for me, let it go”
You do as your told, your vision turns white and your gushing all over Steve. Your body shaking along with your release.
“Where do you want me pretty girl?”
Steve is a mess beneath you, his hands caressing your breasts as you come down from your high.
“In my— fuck.”
You lift your body up, stumbling slightly and sighing at the loss of his cock inside of you.
Another second passes and you’re on your knees, wrapping your lips around Steve’s head before sliding down lower.
“Oh my god you’re perfect.”
He groans as you bob up and down, gagging slightly at the feeling of him against your throat.
it’s not long before your met with the salty taste of his release, moaning as you swallow every last drop.
The two of you are left panting in the backseat of Steve’s car, the windows fogged, your breaths still uneven.
Your cheek rests against his thigh. It’s quiet except for the hum of the engine and both of your breathing finally starting to slow.
“I love you.”
His voice is barely above a whisper. Hoarse, certain, real.
You lift your head to look at him, his hair a mess, cheeks still flushed, and for a second all you can do is laugh. Not because it’s funny, but because it’s him, and somehow this boy who used to drive you insane now feels like the safest thing in the world.
“I love you too”
You mumble, moving up to press a tired kiss to the corner of his mouth. He grins into it, that stupid, perfect grin, and pulls you in closer until you’re practically tangled together.
“Remind me to clean my car tomorrow, there’s candy everywhere”
He murmurs against your hair.
“You won’t”
You say, smiling.
“Yeah”
He chuckles, tightening his hold
“you’re probably right.”
For a while, neither of you move. You just stay there— Steve tracing lazy circles on your arm, you listening to the slow beat of his heart. Both of you knowing that, somehow, this moment feels exactly like home.
