ugh your writing :( i cant even put into words how much i enjoy reading everything and anything you publish !! you are srsly one of my favorite writers on here and everytime you post something i just fall more and more in love with your work !!!!! you capture every emotion perfectly and even your side characters are so so well written and i just love you sososo much and thank you for feeding us with this amazing content mwah mwah mwah i hope all your writing gets the recognition it deserves bc you are soo talented and dont let anyone tell you otherwise <3
ALSO
“you’re doing that thing again.” you murmur.
“what thing?”
“looking at me like that.”
steve goes quiet for a second.
“i’ve always looked at you like this.” steve simply says.
right okay just kill me right now actually...i lovedddd this line girl omfg just
omg i wish i knew who you areeeee, so so so sweet 🥹🥹🥹 ughhh this just made me emotional
thank u so much babe, im so glad you enjoy reading everything 💗💗💗💗 you made my whole day, really !! tysm 🫶🏻
crossing lines pt.2 - best friend!steve harrington
pairing: best friend!steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve can’t stand your dumbass boyfriend so he takes matters into his own hands.
warnings: smut with plot, mentions of cheating, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, reader has a vagina, kitchen sex, not proofread.
note: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH EVERYONE 🤍🤍🤍
part 1 | part 2
don’t repost or translate my work.
“tyler?”
his name barely leaves your mouth before the entire atmosphere shifts.
your boyfriend’s eyes snap to you immediately, confusion flickering across his face for half a second before irritation settles back in.
but then he really looks at you and suddenly, he goes still. completely still.
his gaze drags slowly over your face, narrowing slightly, and your stomach drops because you already know what he’s seeing.
the flushed cheeks, your messy hair, your swollen lips.
and then his eyes flick to steve, and god, he looks just as bad.
hair completely messed up from your hands, breathing still uneven, lips red like he’d just been kissing someone.
like he’d just been kissing you.
the silence stretches for one horrible second too long. then tyler lets out this short laugh, except there’s nothing funny about it.
“wow...”
“tyler, what are you-” your chest tightens painfully.
“no.” he holds a hand up immediately, eyes still locked on your face. “no, wait a second.”
steve’s shoulders tense beside the door.
you can practically feel the anger rolling off him already.
but tyler keeps staring at you, specifically at your mouth.
and the longer he looks, the uglier his expression gets.
“are you serious right now?” he asks quietly.
you open your mouth but nothing comes out. because what can you even say at this point?
tyler notices that immediately too. his jaw tightens hard.
“wow.” he repeats, quieter this time. “we have a bad argument and stop talking for like one week and this is what happens?”
“it’s not-” you start before he cuts you off.
“don’t.” his voice sharpens instantly, getting closer to you. “don’t lie to me right now.”
steve steps in before you can answer.
“alright tyler, watch your tone.”
tyler’s head snaps toward him so fast it almost makes you flinch. “excuse me?”
“you heard me.” steve says coldly.
and there it is, that immediate tension between them. that thing that’s always existed every single time they’re in the same room together.
tyler’s always hated how close you and steve are.
and steve’s always hated the way tyler treats you.
but now? now there’s proof. at least for tyler.
he laughs again, but this time it sounds genuinely angry.
“this shit is unbelievable.” he points between you two. “seriously? him?”
“tyler let’s just talk first-” you whisper.
“no, i wanna hear this.” his eyes go back to you immediately. “i wanna hear you explain why your best friend opens the door looking like that, and you’re standing behind him looking like you just got done making out.”
your face burns.
steve’s jaw clenches so hard you can see the muscle tick. “that’s enough, tyler.”
“stay out of it.”
“not happening.”
tyler scoffs. “of course not. captain fucking harrington to the rescue, right?”
“tyler, stop…” you say quickly, panic rising in your chest. “please. let’s talk in private.”
but now both of them are too worked up.
steve takes one step forward instinctively, putting himself slightly between you and tyler without even realizing it.
“you really don’t even try to hide it, huh?” tyler asks slowly.
“hide what?” steve snaps.
“the fact that you’ve been waiting for this.”
silence.
steve freezes only for half a second but it’s enough, because tyler catches it immediately and suddenly the anger on his face shifts into something worse. something almost bitter.
“holy shit…” he laughs quietly. “you have.”
“please-”
“how long?” he asks, eyes darting between both of you. “huh? how long has this been going on?”
“it hasn’t, ty.” you say immediately.
“bullshit.”
“i’m serious!”
“then why does he look at you like that?” tyler asks.
the room goes dead silent.
your breath catches.
tyler says it so fast. so honestly. like he’s noticed it for longer than either of you realized.
you glance at steve automatically.
big mistake.
the second your eyes meet everything becomes obvious, all over again.
the tension.
the guilt.
the feelings sitting way too close to the surface now.
tyler notices the look. his expression crumples for the briefest second before anger covers it again.
“oh my god,” he mutters. “i was so fucking stupid for trusting you. you’re in love with him.”
“tyler, stop-”
“are you?”
you can’t answer.
that silence destroys him.
“wow.” his voice cracks slightly around the word.
in the middle of the tension, steve’s world stopped as soon as you didn’t answer tyler’s question. you were in love with him. and suddenly some of the anger leaves his face too, replaced by guilt. real guilt. because despite everything, despite how much he loved you, he never actually wanted to hurt you. or even tyler, really.
he just wanted you.
tyler shakes his head slowly, laughing again like he can’t believe this is happening.
“you know what’s crazy?” he says quietly. “i used to think i was insane.”
nobody says anything.
his eyes stay on you.
“every time i brought him up, you defended him.” he points at steve without looking away from you. “every single time.”
your throat tightens.
“and every time we fought, where’d you go?” he asks. “him. always.”
steve looks away briefly at that, because he knows it’s true.
“i thought i was just jealous.” tyler continues bitterly. “but i’m not crazy, am i?”
more silence.
“god, you kissed him fast.”
“tyler, you don’t know that.” you whisper sharply.
“what?” he snaps. “am i wrong?”
steve steps forward immediately. “okay, that’s enough.”
“or what?”
“or you leave.”
“you are in her house telling me to leave?” tyler stares at him in disbelief.
“yeah.” steve says coldly. “because you have no place to talk and you’re upsetting her.”
his eyes flick between both of you again before settling on you and suddenly he looks tired.
“did you even feel bad?” he asks quietly.
the question hits like a punch because the answer is horrible.
you do feel bad. but not bad enough to regret kissing steve.
that realization makes you feel even worse.
your silence says everything.
tyler looks at you for a long second, then nods slowly like he understands. like he hates that he understands.
“right.” tyler says quietly.
steve glances back at you immediately, concern flashing across his face at how overwhelmed you suddenly look.
“you are literally exactly the kind of guy i thought you were.” tyler turns to steve.
“and what kind is that?” steve says coldly.
“the guy waiting around for someone else’s girlfriend.”
“okay.” steve takes a step forward instantly.
“steve, don’t.” you warn quickly.
but tyler’s already spiraling now. he points at you suddenly.
“and you.” he laughs again, completely disbelieving. “you make me sick.”
your stomach twists.
“i didn’t mean for this to happen, tyler.”
“bullshit.”
“tyler-”
“you expect me to believe this just magically happened tonight?” he asks loudly. “look at you two.”
you probably look exactly like what just happened.
your lipstick’s ruined.
and the tension between you and steve is still practically visible in the room.
tyler notices everything and it’s making him angrier by the second.
“fucking hell.” he mutters, dragging his hands over his face. “i knew it. i fucking knew it.”
“knew what?” you snap suddenly, frustration finally boiling over too.
“that he wanted you!”
“and you know what?” your voice shakes but still raises. “maybe i liked having somebody around who actually acted like they gave a shit about me!”
the room goes dead silent.
tyler stares at you.
steve looks at you too now, his expression softening instantly despite the disaster unfolding around him.
“there it is,” he says quietly, chuckling sarcastically. “look at him.”
you wish he’d stop saying things out loud, because every time he does, it makes everything more real.
“he looks at you like you hung the fucking moon.” tyler says, voice dripping with frustration. “and you, you eat that shit up.”
“please, tyler…” your head starts to spin.
“no, seriously, this is pathetic.”
steve steps forward again. “don’t call her pathetic.”
“i wasn’t talking about her.” tyler shoots back instantly. “i’m talking about you.”
steve goes still.
tyler laughs harshly.
“you think this means something?” he asks him. “you think you won because she kissed you?”
“nobody’s trying to win anything.”
“please.” tyler rolls his eyes. “you’ve been circling her like a fucking vulture since day one.”
that one actually pisses steve off.
“careful.”
“or what?” tyler steps closer too now. “you gonna hit me? weren’t you the one who got beaten up by jonathan byers?”
“stop acting like you ever treated her right enough to claim territory here.” steve snaps.
tyler’s entire expression changes.
“claim territory?” he repeats slowly.
“that’s not what i-” steve immediately realizes that came out wrong.
“no, no, say it again.” tyler says, laughing angrily now. “go ahead.”
but he’s locked onto steve now. ego bruised beyond repair.
“you can have her.” tyler says.
your face falls instantly. “excuse me?”
“yeah.” he gestures toward you carelessly, anger making him cruel now. “if she folds this easily for her guy best friend, then maybe she was never worth keeping in the first place.”
his words hit like a slap.
silence crashes through the room.
steve moves before you even process it. “watch your fucking mouth. get the fuck out, man.” his voice is terrifyingly cold now.
tyler scoffs. “this is her house, man. don’t get to boss me around.”
“get out.” you say now.
tyler laughs in disbelief. “wow. look at you.”
he points between both of you again.
“this is gonna be so funny in like three months.”
your stomach twists. “what?”
“when you realize this whole thing is built on sneaking around and emotional cheating and whatever the hell this was.” he gestures wildly. “and he realizes you’re not some perfect little dream girl.”
“stop, leave.” you whisper.
but tyler keeps going.
because he’s angry.
embarrassed.
his ego is hurt.
and he wants to hurt you back now.
“you know what your problem is, babe?” he says. “you like attention. always have. and little king steve over here does exactly that, every single fucking time.”
steve immediately steps between you both.
“okay, you heard her, go.”
“there he is!” tyler laughs loudly. “god, this is embarrassing for you, man.”
steve’s jaw clenches hard. “you’re pushing it. leave.”
“you really think he’s different?” tyler asks you suddenly, eyes locking onto yours around steve’s shoulder. “he’s obsessed with you right now because he couldn’t have you.”
your throat tightens painfully.
“but eventually?” tyler shrugs mockingly. “you’ll just become another girl he got bored of.”
steve looks genuinely furious. hurt too, weirdly enough. but he’s holding back for you, he knows that what tyler saw is already enough.
“you don’t know a damn thing about me.” he says coldly. “and you clearly don’t know a thing about the kind of girl she is.”
“i know your type.”
“and i know yours.” steve fires back. “guys who make girls feel hard to love until they finally run to somebody who doesn’t.”
tyler stares at him.
then at you.
and suddenly he laughs again, except this time it’s quieter. meaner.
“wow.” he shakes his head slowly. “you deserve each other. really.”
your chest aches instantly. somehow that embarrasses you more than yelling would’ve. the disgust in his voice. the judgment, like you and steve are some cliché waiting to implode.
tyler backs toward the door slowly still staring at both of you.
“have fun with this.” he says bitterly.
then his eyes lock onto yours one final time.
and the last thing he says is quiet enough to hurt the most.
“just remember you destroyed a whole relationship for a guy who was waiting around for his turn.”
you physically freeze.
he nods once slowly like that was exactly what he wanted. then he walks out.
the door slams behind him so hard the walls shake slightly.
either way you know that your relationship with tyler was over long before you and steve kissed.
the silence after the door slams is horrible. thick and ringing.
you just stand there staring at the door, heart pounding so hard it almost hurts, tyler’s last words still echoing around your head.
waiting around for his turn.
your stomach twists violently.
suddenly everything feels disgusting. the kiss, the tension, your feelings. all of it.
you wrap your arms around yourself tighter like it’ll somehow hold you together, breathing unevenly while humiliation crawls hot beneath your skin.
behind you, steve is quiet for a second.
then softly. “hey.”
his voice is careful now. he already knows you’re seconds away from falling apart.
you close your eyes briefly because hearing him right now only makes everything worse.
you can still feel his lips on yours.
and tyler’s words keep replaying over them like poison.
waiting around for his turn.
you hear steve take one small step closer. hesitant this time. which almost never happens with you. but now he’s careful like he doesn’t know if he’s still allowed to.
“baby...” he says softly.
your chest tightens painfully. “don’t, steve.”
your tone comes out sharper than you mean it to.
steve immediately stops moving.
you stare hard at the floor, blinking rapidly because tears are starting to burn behind your eyes and you absolutely refuse to cry right now.
“don’t what?” he asks quietly.
you laugh once under your breath.
except it sounds awful.
“don’t call me that right now.”
steve goes still. completely still.
and immediately guilt crashes into you for that too.
because his face, jesus...
“yeah... okay.” he says softly after a second.
no attitude. no defensiveness. just immediate understanding.
which somehow makes you feel even worse.
you shake your head hard, frustrated tears finally slipping down your cheeks.
“this is so messed up.”
“it´s not-”
“no!” you spin around suddenly, emotions spilling over too fast now. “you heard what he said!”
steve’s expression tightens immediately. “yeah, and he was being an asshole.”
“but he’s not completely wrong!”
the second the words leave your mouth, steve freezes.
silence crashes between you both instantly.
that one hurt him. his eyes watch you up and down.
you see it happen.
his jaw tightens slightly.
his eyes flick away for half a second before returning to you carefully.
“you think i was waiting around?” he asks quietly.
and suddenly you realize what you just implied.
waiting around for his turn.
your anger disappears instantly, replaced by horror.
“steve, i didn´t mean it like that.”
“no, it’s okay.” he nods once quickly, even though it clearly isn’t. “i get it.”
“that’s not what i meant.”
“you’re upset.” he says.
his voice stays soft. he’s still trying to take care of you while looking visibly hurt himself. “i know you didn’t mean it like that.”
but you did, a little.
not truly.
not fairly.
but enough for it to sting.
you drag your hands over your face roughly, completely overwhelmed now.
“i’m sorry.” you whisper shakily. “i’m sorry.”
steve’s entire expression softens immediately.
“hey,” he says quietly. “look at me.”
he takes another careful step closer this time.
slow enough to give you room to stop him.
you don’t want to, because your chest feels too heavy and your face is burning and suddenly you feel like the worst person alive.
but eventually your eyes lift to his.
and steve just melts. completely melts the second he sees you crying.
“oh, baby.” he murmurs the nickname softly, completly ignoring your request earlier.
there’s no hesitation in his voice anymore, just concern.
he reaches toward you instinctively before stopping himself halfway.
asking silently this time.
your throat tightens painfully at that.
“i didn’t mean that.” you whisper quickly. “i swear i didn’t.”
steve nods immediately. “i know.”
“no, i really-”
“i know.” he repeats softer.
his eyes don’t leave yours, completely patient.
“you’re overwhelmed right now.”
another tear slips down your cheek. you wipe at it angrily.
“i just feel horrible.”
steve’s face softens so much it almost hurts to look at him. “c’mere.”
his voice is quiet.
you shake your head automatically, not because you don’t want him. because you want him too much.
“baby,” he says again softly. “please.”
your breath catches. you look down at the floor again, shoulders trembling slightly, and after a second, very slowly, you nod.
that’s all it takes.
steve crosses the room immediately, careful but fast, like he’s been restraining himself this entire time. his arms wrap around you gently at first, giving you room to pull away, but the second you melt against him with this shaky little breath, he tightens his hold instantly.
one hand sliding up into your hair while the other presses firmly against your back, pulling you completely against his chest.
“you´re okay.” he whispers softly.
you bury your face into his chest finally, fingers gripping weakly at the back of his shirt while the crying you’ve been trying to hold back starts spilling out properly.
steve just holds you tighter.
“i know.” he murmurs into your hair. “i know, baby.”
his hand keeps moving slowly through your hair, soothing and repetitive and impossibly gentle.
“you’re okay.”
you shake your head against him. “i hurt him.”
“yeah...” steve says quietly, always honest with you. “but that relationship was hurting you too.”
your grip tightens on his shirt.
“still doesn’t make this okay.”
steve exhales softly above you, his cheek resting lightly against the top of your head now.
“maybe not.” he murmurs. “but i’m not gonna stand here and pretend what he did this whole time didn´t hurt you first.”
you close your eyes tightly, letting him hold you, letting yourself sink into the warmth of him despite everything.
steve keeps his arms around you for another few seconds.
just enough for your breathing to calm a little. just enough for the crying to stop feeling so uncontrollable.
then slowly, carefully, he pulls back.
not far, just enough to look at you properly.
his hands slide from your back to your arms briefly before dropping completely, like he’s trying not to overwhelm you now. trying not to push.
you wipe quickly under your eyes, embarrassed immediately, but steve pretends not to notice, or maybe he notices and chooses not to make you feel worse about it.
he stays close though, standing right in front of you in the quiet hallway, watching you carefully like he’s trying to figure out the exact right thing to say.
normally words come easy but not today. today everything feels fragile.
you stare at the floor.
“don’t try to make me feel better about this.” you say.
steve’s face softens immediately. “little late for that.”
you let out this weak, miserable laugh through your nose.
he takes that as a good sign.
“baby,” he says carefully, “you’re acting like you murdered somebody.”
your head snaps up immediately. “steve.”
“i’m serious.”
“i cheated on my boyfriend.” you sigh.
“your ex-boyfriend.” he corrects gently.
you groan softly, dragging your hands over your face again “that does not help.”
“i’m trying here.”
despite everything, there’s something so familiar about the way he says it that your chest aches.
this banter, this rhythm between you it’s always been easy. even now. especially now, maybe.
steve leans lightly back against the wall beside the doorway, giving you space while still staying close enough that you can feel his presence.
“look,” he says quietly. “was tonight messy? yeah.”
you look at him tiredly. “messy.”
“trying to soften the blow.” he smiles softly.
“steve.”
“okay, fine.” he sighs dramatically. “disastrous. catastrophic. emotionally horrifying.”
another tiny laugh almost escapes you before you stop it.
his eyes catch it immediately and soften. god, they soften so easily for you.
you shake your head quickly. “don’t do that.”
his brows furrow. “do what?”
“make me laugh like everything’s okay.”
steve goes quiet for a second at that.
“i don’t think everything’s okay.” he says softly. “really.”
the sincerity in his voice makes your stomach twist.
he continues before you can spiral again.
“i just don’t think you’re some terrible person because of what happened tonight.”
“how can you possibly not?” you stare at him.
“because i was there.”
the answer comes instantly.
“i know what happened.” steve continues.
you cross your arms tightly over yourself. “yeah. we kissed.”
his eyes flick briefly to your mouth again, instinctive. then he looks away almost immediately.
“yeah. we did.” he says quietly.
the silence after that feels warm in the worst way, despite all this guilt, neither of you regrets the kiss itself. and that’s the problem.
steve exhales softly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.
“he made it sound like we planned this or something.” he mumbles.
“didn’t we?” you ask weakly. “in some subconscious horrible way?”
steve’s head lifts immediately. “hey. no.”
“but maybe he’s right.” you whisper. “maybe i checked out a long time ago and just…” you laugh shakily. “waited until i had someone else.”
steve’s face tightens instantly. “you didn’t use me.”
“i didn’t say that.”
“you implied it.” steve says.
you go quiet, because maybe you did.
steve shakes his head slightly, looking frustrated now, not at you. at the situation.
“you wanna know what i think?” he says finally.
you look up reluctantly.
“i think you spent a really long time trying to force a relationship to work because you didn’t wanna hurt somebody no matter how much he hurt you.” his voice stays calm. “and i think eventually you got exhausted.”
your throat tightens.
“and yeah,” he continues softly. “i think somewhere along the line, feelings got involved between us.”
his eyes flick to yours carefully then, vulnerable and honest.
“but that doesn’t automatically make you manipulative or cruel, or desperate for attention. you needed someone who understood you and i was there.”
you blink rapidly. hearing him say feelings out loud makes everything feel terrifyingly real again.
“steve…”
“what?” he asks quietly. “you want me to lie?”
you don’t.
he sighs softly, looking down for a second before speaking again. “look, if tonight never happened…” he pauses. “if we never kissed, i still would’ve wanted you to leave him.”
your eyes lift to his immediately.
his expression doesn’t change.
“not because i thought i’d get something out of it,” he says quickly. “before you say it.”
he pushes off the wall slightly.
“i wanted you to leave him because of all the times you came crying to me after he made you feel awful. and maybe because i actually am in love with you.”
‘and maybe because i actually am in love with you.’
the words hang in the room heavily, completely changing it.
you just stare at steve for a second, blinking slowly like your brain physically cannot catch up fast enough.
steve looks like he regrets saying it out loud immediately after. not because it isn’t true, because now it’s real, between both of you.
he lets out a quiet breath through his nose, glancing away briefly before looking back at you.
“well,” he mutters awkwardly. “that kinda slipped out.”
your mouth opens slightly. closes again.
“slipped out?” you repeat incredulously. “you don’t accidentally tell someone you’re in love with them, steve.”
“i know that.” he says quickly. “i’m aware.”
“then why do you sound so calm?!”
that actually makes him laugh softly.
not because it’s funny, he’s just nervous.
you can tell.
“trust me.” he says, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “i am very much not calm right now.”
you stare at him. “you just confessed to me after i cheated on my boyfriend with you.”
“ex-boyfriend.” he corrects you again.
“steve.”
“sorry.”
you look away first, arms crossing tightly over yourself while your thoughts spin violently.
all those moments you ignored, all those looks, all the tension, all the almosts, suddenly they mean something completely different.
you laugh once quietly under your breath. “oh my god.”
steve watches you carefully. “that reaction doesn’t feel super promising.”
your eyes snap back to his immediately. “i’m not reacting badly!”
“okay.”
“i’m not!”
“you just said ‘oh my god’ like i told you i committed tax fraud.” he holds back a giggle.
despite yourself, you huff out a tiny laugh.
steve’s face softens instantly at the sound. it’s subtle but it’s there, that stupid softness he only seems to have with you and that makes your chest ache even worse.
“how long?” you ask quietly.
steve’s smile fades slightly. “seriously?”
“yeah.”
“i don’t know.” he hesitates.
“that’s such a cop-out answer.” you roll your eyes.
“it’s not!” he argues immediately. “i genuinely don’t know.”
“steve.” you whine.
“what do you want me to say?” he asks, throwing his hands up slightly. “that i saw you one day and suddenly violins started playing?”
“you are so annoying.”
“and yet,” he says softly. “you still kissed me.”
“can you stop bringing that up?” your face heats immediately.
his eyebrows lift. “you want me to stop bringing up the life-changing kiss that happened like ten minutes ago?”
“yes, i do.”
“kinda hard, sweetheart.”
you look away from him again quickly.
bad idea. because it gives him time to really look at you and you can feel it, the weight of his eyes moving across your face carefully.
now that everything’s out in the open, he’s allowing himself to look at you differently.
“you’re doing that thing again.” you murmur.
“what thing?”
“looking at me like that.”
steve goes quiet for a second.
“i’ve always looked at you like this.” steve simply says.
your heart almost stops.
the honesty in his voice is devastating.
you blink rapidly, trying to steady yourself. “that’s not helping.”
“i’m not trying to help anymore.”
your eyes snap back to his immediately. steve’s expression shifts slightly then.
“i spent months trying to convince myself this was just me being protective,” he confesses. “or jealous because your boyfriend sucked.”
“he did suck.” you agree.
“thank you!” steve says immediately, pointing at you. “see? that’s all i’m saying.”
despite everything, you laugh softly again.
his mouth twitches slightly like he’s trying not to smile too hard.
“but then it got worse.” he continues.
“worse?”
“way worse.” steve admits.
“how?” you ask.
steve looks at you for a long second before answering. “you’d touch me and i’d think about it for, like, three business days.”
your eyes widen instantly.
he laughs quietly at your reaction, leaning back against the wall again.
“okay, you tell me something now.” he mumbles through a soft smile.
“what?” you ask.
“you seriously never noticed?”
your stomach drops slightly.
you noticed things. you noticed everything. you noticed the way steve always moved closer to you unconsciously. the way his hand always found your back in crowded places. the way he looked at your boyfriends like they personally offended him. the way he remembered every tiny thing about you without trying.
you noticed.
you avoid his eyes immediately which is answer enough.
“you did notice.” he says quietly.
“not fully!” you defend yourself.
“baby.” he groans.
“i thought maybe you were just-”
“hopelessly devoted to you?” he offers.
you groan loudly, covering your face with your hands. “stop talking.”
he laughs softly again.
“you know what the worst part is?” he says.
you peek at him through your fingers suspiciously. “what?”
“robin used to make fun of me for it constantly.”
“what? really?” your hands slowly lower.
“yeah.” he nods once. “apparently i’m not subtle.”
“robin knew you were in love with me?”
“robin knew before i did.”
you stare at him in horror.
“she used to literally kick me under tables whenever i stared at you too long.” steve laughs at your expression.
your jaw drops. “how have i never noticed this?!”
“because you trusted me.” his voice softens slightly after saying it.
and suddenly the mood shifts again.
steve looks at you for a second before speaking again. “i never wanted you uncomfortable around me.”
“you never did." you admit.
“good.”
he means that. seriously.
you shake your head slowly, overwhelmed all over again.
“i just…” you laugh weakly. “i can’t believe this is real.”
“yeah,” steve murmurs softly. “me neither.”
you study him carefully for a second.
“were you really okay never saying anything?” you ask softly.
steve immediately gives you a look. “absolutely not.”
“then why didn’t you?” you laugh softly.
his expression changes slightly, a bit more serious now.
“because you loved somebody else.” he says without bitterness. “and because i knew if i told you, i’d mean it.”
your throat tightens painfully.
steve looks down briefly before continuing quieter. “i didn’t wanna be some guy waiting around hoping your relationship failed.”
tyler’s words flash through your head immediately for the millionth time.
waiting around for his turn.
your expression changes slightly.
steve notices instantly. “don´t look guilty because of what he said.”
you swallow hard. “but what if he’s right about everything?”
“he’s not.” steve’s jaw tightens slightly.
“steve-”
“i didn’t sit around hoping he’d hurt you.” his voice stays calm. “i hoped you’d realize you deserved better.”
your eyes lock onto his and suddenly the tension between you shifts again.
steve takes one slow step closer, not enough to crowd you, just enough that your breath catches.
“and yeah,” he says quietly, eyes flicking briefly to your mouth before returning to your eyes. “a part of me wanted that better to be me.”
your heartbeat stutters violently.
his eyes flick briefly across your face again.
jesus, you do feel awful about tyler.
about how things ended, the humiliation on his face when he left was unbearable… but standing here with steve now, with all this honesty finally sitting out in the open between you, you can’t pretend your feelings disappeared just because the situation hurts.
you swallow hard.
“you make this really difficult…” you whisper.
steve’s expression softens immediately. “i know.”
“no, seriously.” you laugh weakly, shaking your head. “i should probably want space from you right now, steve.”
“do you?” his eyes stay on yours.
the question lands directly in your chest. the answer comes fast, too fast.
no.
not even a little.
you look away from him first.
“that’s the problem.” you say.
steve goes quiet after that.
you can practically see him thinking and holding himself back, trying so hard not to push you when emotions are already everywhere.
even now, even after confessing he’s in love with you, he’s still more worried about overwhelming you than getting what he wants.
your eyes lift back to his slowly.
“say something.” you murmur.
steve lets out the smallest breath through his nose. “dangerous request.”
“why?”
his mouth twitches faintly.
“because i’m trying very hard to behave right now.” he admits, eyes turning dark.
“steve…”
“i’m serious, baby.” his voice lowers slightly. “you’re standing there looking at me like that after kissing me half to death ten minutes ago, and i’m trying not to make this worse for you.”
your breath catches immediately.
the memory hits all over again at the way he says it. the wall against your back while his hands rest on your waist. the way he kissed you like he’d been holding it in forever.
you close your eyes briefly. big mistake.
suddenly you can feel it again.
and when you open them, steve’s already looking at you differently.
his voice softens instantly. “hey.”
“i know i should stop this.” you shake your head weakly.
steve’s jaw tightens slightly at the word should.
“but you don’t want to…” he says quietly.
not a question.
you hate how easily he reads you.
your eyes flick down briefly to his mouth.
steve’s breathing changes immediately. small and subtle.
the tension shifts all over again.
“this feels horrible, steve.” you admit softly.
“kissing me feels horrible?” steve’s brows pull together instantly.
“no.” the answer comes too fast.
your face burns immediately and suddenly steve looks dangerously pleased for half a second before softening again.
“okay.” he murmurs.
you groan softly, embarrassed. “stop looking at me like that.”
all the softness in his face comes rushing back.
“baby,” he says quietly. “i just want you.”
the sincerity in his voice hits hard.
your breath catches painfully because he says it so simply.
and suddenly the space between you and steve feels impossible.
you stare at him for one long second. then another.
and neither of you moves but the air changes anyway.
his eyes flick slowly between yours like he’s trying to decide whether he should stop this before it starts again.
he gives you every opportunity to pull away. every. single. one.
“tell me to back off.” he says softly.
like he’s hanging onto self-control by a thread.
you stare at him, breathing unevenly, because the worst part is that you know he means it. if you asked him to leave right now, he would. no matter how much it hurt him.
somehow that makes this harder.
tyler’s gone. your relationship is over.
you should be crying more than this. you should be devastated. guilty. disgusted with yourself.
instead you’re standing in your hallway staring at steve’s mouth while he looks at you like he’s trying not to cave.
“i hate this…” you whisper suddenly.
steve’s brows pull together instantly. “hate what?”
you laugh softly, but it comes out shaky. frustrated. “the fact that i know i should ask you to leave.”
his expression changes at that, he looks hurt.
he nods once slowly. “okay...”
and he actually starts stepping back.
he just accepts it immediately even though you can physically see how badly he doesn’t want to.
“wait.” you blurt out.
steve stops instantly.
you drag your hands over your face hard enough to make your skin burn. “god, this is so messed up.”
“yeah, i know… no need to tell me that.” he says quietly.
“and you standing there being all understanding is making it worse, steve.”
“what do you want me to do?” he asks softly. “be an asshole?”
“maybe a little.” you confess.
“not really my style with you.” he says.
he says it so naturally, him being gentle with you is instinct.
“you can’t just…” you shake your head helplessly. “you can’t just tell me you’re in love with me and then look at me like that.”
“how am i looking at you?”
you stare at him incredulously. “seriously?”
“i’m asking.” steve says.
“you already know what i’m thinking.” you reply.
steve goes quiet.
“do i?” he breaks silence.
you lean back against the wall with a tired exhale, eyes fixed on the floor. “i feel like such a bad person right now.”
“hey.” the firmness in his voice makes you look up immediately.
steve’s expression has hardened slightly.
“you are not a bad person.” steve says softly.
“steve, i cheated on somebody.”
“after spending months getting treated like shit.”
“that doesn’t excuse it.” you groan.
“i didn’t say it did.” his voice stays calm.
he takes one careful step closer again.
you cross your arms tighter over yourself. “you don’t get it, steve.”
“then explain it to me.” he says.
the answer comes so fast it catches you off guard. he sounds serious, completely open like he genuinely wants to understand every ugly thought in your head right now.
you stare at him for a second, then laugh weakly. “i don’t know how to explain it.”
“try.”
“i just…” your voice cracks slightly. “i feel awful because i hurt him.”
steve nods immediately. “okay...”
“but then i kiss you and i don’t regret it, and that makes me feel worse.” you admit, your voice low to hide the shame.
his eyes flick down to your mouth unconsciously.
you notice.
“you really don’t regret it?” he asks quietly.
“don’t ask me that, steve.” you sigh.
“i wanna hear you say it.” steve whispers.
the tension shifts instantly, your heartbeat stutters.
“steve…”
his eyes stay locked on yours. “come on.”
the softness in his voice makes it worse somehow. less pressure and more intimacy.
you swallow hard.
“no, steve.” you whisper finally. “i don’t regret kissing you.”
steve actually closes his eyes for a second after hearing that like the words physically hit him.
“you have any idea what that does to me?” he murmurs.
“i’m already barely holding it together.” you say.
“you think i’m doing any better?” steve asks.
he takes another slow step closer. close enough now that you can feel the warmth coming off him.
“you know what tonight’s been like for me?” he asks quietly.
you can’t answer.
steve laughs softly under his breath, shaking his head once.“watching you look at me like you wanted me all night and trying not to do something stupid.”
your eyes widen slightly. “i was not-”
he gives you a look. “you were.”
you open your mouth to argue again, then close it.
because honestly?
maybe you were.
his expression softens dangerously.
the air between you suddenly feels too thick to breathe properly.
“this is crazy.” you whisper. “and you’re way too calm about this.”
that makes him laugh.
“i’m not calm.” he steps even closer. “i’m trying very hard not to pin you against this wall and kiss you again.”
you hate how much your body reacts to him. how easy it is.
you shake your head weakly. “you’re impossible.”
“and you’re staring at my mouth again.” he smirks.
your eyes snap upward immediately.
steve’s lips twitch slightly and you see it because you actually were looking at his mouth.
“you’re so annoying.” you whisper.
“yeah?” he murmurs, leaning in just slightly. “still wanna kiss me?”
your stomach flips so hard it almost hurts.
gosh, he’s right and he’s so stupid.
you should stop this. you know you should.
but instead you whisper. “you make me feel insane, steve.”
steve’s face softens instantly at that. something emotional flashes across it so quickly it almost knocks the air from your lungs.
“sweetheart.” he says quietly. “you have been ruining me for, like, years.”
your eyes shut briefly. “that’s not fair.”
“none of this is fair.” steve whispers.
when you open your eyes again, he’s even closer, enough that your noses almost brush. and still he waits, still he lets you decide.
“if i kiss you again,” you whisper shakily. “i’m not gonna be able to pretend this is just a mistake anymore.”
steve’s gaze flicks between your eyes and your mouth slowly.
“good.” he whispers back.
you grab the front of his shirt suddenly and pull him in.
steve makes this low sound against your mouth like he’s been dying for it.
the kiss is immediate and messy. all the guilt and confusion and aching feelings pouring into it at once. intense in a completely different way now.
because now there are no misunderstandings left between you.
his hands slide to your ass instantly, gripping tighter this time as he backs you gently into the wall again.
“fuck.” steve breathes against your mouth.
the word sounds wrecked.
your fingers tangle in his hair again and his head drops slightly at the feeling, it affects him way too much.
“you have no idea-” he murmurs breathlessly, kissing you again before you can ask what he means.
his mouth moves against yours slower this time, like he’s savoring it now that he finally can. and god, the way he touches you, careful but desperate at the same time, is driving you insane.
you can feel it in the way his hands grab your waist instantly, pulling you flush against him with this desperate kind of care, like he can’t decide whether to hold you gently or never let you go again.
the kiss gets deeper fast.
and somewhere between steve backing you against the wall and your fingers tangling into his hair, your hands find the hem of his shirt.
steve reacts immediately when your fingers slide underneath it. his breath catches sharply against your mouth.
“fuck.” he whispers.
you don’t even think about it.
you just tug harder, desperate to touch him, to feel more of him. suddenly the layers between you feel unbearable.
steve breaks the kiss just enough to look at you, breathing hard.
his hair’s a mess already, lips swollen again, eyes completely dark with want and emotion all tangled together.
“baby,” he says softly, almost disbelieving. “you’re killing me.”
your stomach flips violently.
you tug at his shirt again impatiently. “take it off, steve.”
that catches him off guard. his eyebrows lift slightly and for one brief second he just stares at you. then he laughs softly under his breath.
“need you right now, baby.” steve groans.
heat rushes through your entire body and before you can even process the effect his words had on you, steve’s pulling the shirt over his head quickly, tossing it somewhere behind him without looking.
you feel your core shamelessly pulse at the sight.
you’ve seen steve before, obviously.
but not like this. not flushed and breathing hard while looking at you like he wants to crawl under your skin. not standing in front of you after kissing you senseless.
his chest rises unevenly as your eyes drag over him for half a second too long.
steve notices immediately.
“don’t look at me like you’re trying to get me into trouble.” he smirks.
you laugh softly. “pretty sure we’re already there.”
“yeah,” he says quietly, eyes flicking down to your mouth again. “guess we are.”
then he’s kissing you again, harder this time.
now your hands are on him directly, sliding over his hairy chest and shoulders while steve practically melts into every touch. you feel him shiver slightly beneath your fingertips and it sends heat straight through you.
“you’re so sensitive.” you whisper against his mouth.
steve lets out this breathless laugh that sounds almost embarrassed. “only with you.”
ugh, the way he says things.
your fingers drag lightly down his chest and his head drops briefly against your shoulder with a low groan.
“baby…” he groans warningly.
you can’t stop smiling. “what?”
“you know exactly what.”
his hands tighten instinctively at your waist before sliding lower, palms warm against your ass, restless.
he kisses down your jaw slowly, mouth warm against your skin while his hands roam carefully over your sides.
“you’re so pretty.” he murmurs against your neck suddenly. “seriously.” he pulls back just enough to look at you properly again. “you’re ridiculously pretty. it’s actually annoying.”
“that’s your line?” you laugh breathlessly.
“i’m distracted.” he steve replies.
“clearly.”
his eyes flick down your body briefly before returning to your face immediately, almost like he catches himself.
you reach for him again before he can pull too far into his own head, fingers curling lightly around the back of his neck.
“c’mere.” he whispers. “stop pulling away.”
he kisses you slower this time, one hand sliding into your hair while the other settles firmly at your ass again, pulling you into him until you can feel the warmth of his skin everywhere.
steve kisses like he’s losing control of himself slowly.
your hands are still moving over his bare chest, fingers dragging across warm skin while his mouth keeps finding yours again and again, deeper every time, and he’s becoming impossibly more affected by it all.
every little sound you make seems to hit him directly.
every tug of your fingers into his hair, every shaky breath against his mouth. it’s driving him insane.
you feel it the second his body presses closer against yours again.
his breathing catches hard, this time, there’s no hiding how turned on he is.
your stomach flips instantly when you feel him through his jeans, growing bigger every second.
“ah- fuck…” he breathes softly against your mouth, almost a moan.
his forehead drops briefly against yours, eyes squeezed shut for a second like he’s trying to regain composure and failing miserably.
“you okay?” you whisper breathlessly, barely able to stop yourself from laughing.
steve opens his eyes slowly. “you cannot ask me that right now.”
his hand at your ass squeezes, like he’s trying to find balance.
you laugh softly against his mouth.
his lips move to your jaw again, then lower, kissing slowly along your neck while one of his hands slips beneath your shirt.
warm skin against warm skin.
you inhale sharply at the feeling.
steve groans softly against your throat immediately.
“there.” he murmurs quietly. “that sound. jesus.”
your fingers tighten automatically in his hair.
he kisses you harder after that. and suddenly he’s pulling gently at the bottom of your shirt with slightly shaky hands.
his eyes lift to yours immediately after, checking, always checking.
“can i?” he asks softly.
your heartbeat stutters. you nod.
steve pulls your shirt up carefully but quickly, hands warm against your skin as he lifts it over your head and tosses it to the ground.
then he freezes. his eyes drag slowly over you and suddenly he looks almost overwhelmed again because you’re not wearing a bra.
“shit, baby.” he says softly before he can stop himself.
heat rushes to your face immediately. “steve.”
“sorry- no, not sorry, actually.” he laughs breathlessly, staring at you like he’s genuinely lost his mind a little. “holy shit.”
you shove lightly at his shoulder, embarrassed. “stop looking at me like that.”
“i literally can’t.” his voice has gone lower now.
his hands slide slowly up your bare sides like he still can’t believe he’s allowed to touch you like this.
“you are so fucking beautiful. i’m gonna fuck you so good, baby, i promise.” he murmurs.
a moan accidentally leaves your mouth, making steve smirk.
“you have no idea what you do to me.” he says quietly.
your stomach twists violently.
he kisses you again suddenly, hard enough to make you stumble slightly back into the wall. steve catches you immediately, one hand sliding firmly to your waist while the other moves instinctively up your back, holding you against him.
feeling him hard against you like this makes your brain go completely foggy.
you make this tiny involuntary sound against his mouth and steve groans immediately.
“fuck, don’t do that.” his forehead presses against yours again briefly while he breathes hard. “i swear i’m trying to behave.”
the words send another rush of heat through you.
steve’s hands are everywhere.
your waist.
your hips.
your boobs.
your ass.
his fingers hook briefly at the waistband of your shorts while his forehead presses against yours.
“baby,” he mutters breathlessly, half laughing from how overwhelmed he is. “you are making it very hard for me to think.”
“please, steve.” you whisper.
steve groans softly into your mouth, hands tightening at your hips before he steps back just enough to look at you properly.
his chest is rising hard, eyes dark and fixed on you like he’s gone.
then, slower this time, giving you every chance to stop him, his fingers slide more firmly against your waistband.
you nod before he even asks. steve’s eyes flick up to yours immediately at that, visibly affected by the trust in it.
“yeah?” he murmurs.
you nod again, breathless.
he pulls your shorts down quickly but carefully, hands warm against your thighs as he kisses you again immediately after, like he can’t go more than two seconds without your mouth now.
suddenly his hands are under your thighs and he lifts you effortlessly.
you gasp softly in surprise, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist while steve steadies you against him immediately, one arm securely beneath your ass while the other tangles into your hair.
“hi.” he says breathlessly, looking up at you with this dizzy little smile.
you laugh softly despite everything. “show-off.”
“absolutely.”
his forehead bumps lightly against yours before he kisses you again slower this time, deeper, and god, being this close to him feels dangerous.
your fingers slide through his hair while steve walks you both backward blindly, unable to stop kissing you long enough to care where he’s going.
his hands grip your thighs tighter every time you react to him.
every shaky breath, little sound, it’s driving him insane.
he kisses you again before you can hide your face, smiling softly against your mouth when you laugh into the kiss too.
but the smile fades quickly because the way you’re looking at him now, warm and wanting and completely overwhelmed, absolutely wrecks him.
his grip tightens slightly beneath your thighs as his eyes drag over your face as he starts moving.
your legs stay wrapped around steve’s waist while he carries you through the hallway toward the kitchen, one arm locked securely beneath your ass again.
steve kisses you like he’s starving.
there’s barely any talking anymore, just breathless sounds between kisses and hands grabbing desperately at each other like neither of you can get close enough.
his mouth never really leaves yours as he carries you down the hallway toward the kitchen, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist while your fingers stay tangled in his hair.
every few steps he stops walking completely just to kiss you harder, sloppier.
and every single time you react to him, steve groans softly against your mouth like it’s driving him insane.
his grip tightens beneath your thighs when you pull at his hair.
by the time he gets you into the kitchen, both of you are breathing hard.
the tension between you feels overwhelming now, hot and messy and impossible to stop.
steve backs you gently against the counter for half a second just so he can pull away long enough to get his belt undone. his eyes never leave yours while he does it.
you can hear the buckle clink against the kitchen floor a second later before he impatiently pushes his jeans down and kicks them aside.
“gonna make you feel better than that asshole ever did.” steve whispers.
“steve!” you scoff.
then he’s right back against you again instantly.
his mouth crashes into yours again while his hands slide under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter.
you gasp softly into the kiss at the sudden movement. steve swallows the sound immediately.
one hand braces beside you against the counter while the other grips your waist firmly, pulling you right to the edge until he’s standing between your knees.
“you’re so goddamn perfect, baby. been dreaming about you like this for so long.” he praises.
leaning down, steve captures one rosy peak between his lips, suckling hard. his other hand trails lower, teasing along the waistband of your panties.
with a swift tug, steve removes your last scrap of clothing, your panties, baring you completely to his hungry gaze.
he sits you up easily on the cool marble countertop, nudging your legs apart to stand between them. his palms skim up your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before coming to rest on your hips.
“look at you,” steve rasped, voice thick with lust. “so fucking pretty f’me. can't believe this is really happening.”
“steve, please.” you plead, your body almost shaking in need.
he lays a large hand on your stomach, kinda laying you down a bit on your elbows to see your body better, spreading open for him.
“been thinking about this, about me, haven't you?” steve asks bluntly between open-mouthed kisses on your torso.
“mhm.” you nod pathetically.
“mhm?” steve slightly mocks you, pouting and eyebrows frowning as he hums.
steve’s hand leaves your hips to softly circle your swollen clit with the pad of his thumb, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp and your back arch.
he watches, transfixed, as your back arches off the counter, pressing your breasts towards him. the sight of you, lost in pleasure, it's probably the most erotic thing steve’s ever seen.
“let me hear ya’.” steve encourages huskily, increasing the pressure of his thumb on you. “wanna know how i make you feel.”
“so g-good, steve.” your voice fails as a soft gasp interrupts you, you grab onto his free big forearm.
steve leans in to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, all tongues and teeth and desperation.
he can feel how close you are, your walls closing around nothing but steve pulls back just as you teeter on the brink, denying you that release.
a wicked grin spreads across his face at your whimper of frustration.
“steve! why’d you stop?!” you whine.
steve just leaves that stupid hot grin on his face and lowers it between your legs. his warm and soft respiration hitting your sensitive wet folds.
slowly and torturously, he drags the flat of his tongue through your dripping slit, from entrance to clit. steve seals his lips around your clit and sucks gently.
“ah- fuc- more to the left. ughnhn- oh my god, there!” you guide steve, messy moans interrupting you constantly.
the feeling of your thighs clamping around steve’s head, holding him in place, only spurs him on. steve groans into your core, the vibrations intensifying the pleasure.
he maintains the slow yet effective soft licks on your clit, alternating between kitten licks and gentle sucks.
“you’re fucking soaked.” steve groans, words vibrating against your flesh.
your legs tremble around his head, your breath coming in increasingly shallow pants, your fingers threading through steve’s hair… you’re really close.
“almost- almost there.” you manage to say, holding on to steve’s hair for dear life.
steve’s tongue locks on your clit with singular focus, sealing his lips around the sensitive nub and sucking hard, pushing you to your limit.
“that’s it, baby. let go f’me.” he groans against your flesh, interrupting the amount of pleasure you were receiving from his tongue.
“don’t stop, steve.” you push his head against your wet folds.
steve smiles at your words and increases the suction on your clit again, feeling your body tensing, your muscles pulling. your thighs clamp tighter around his head, holding him in place as your orgasm crashes over agressively.
“oh my god, f-fuckck. fuck, steveeee.” your moans come out slurred and loud.
steve hums against your core. “mm baby.” his lips moving on your clit as he lazily speaks.
he works you through the aftershocks, his touches gentling as he feels your body relax under his touch. finally, he places one last kiss on your pussy, before pulling away to admire his work.
you, flushed and panting, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. steve’s hands settle on your hips, thumbs rubbing small circles on your hipbones as he gazes at you with undisguised hunger.
“god, you're beautiful like this.” he murmurs against your lips, voice rough. “coming undone for me...”
“need more of you, steve.” you say, still panting, thighs clenching at the thought of his cock inside you. “please.”
“yeah?” steve’s voice comes out husky and rough.
you can feel his hardness grinding on your leg.
“c’mere.” he whispers, grabbing the back of your legs to get you off the counter gently. “turn around f’me.”
you quickly spin around, bending over the cold marble countertop. steve presses his chest to your back and leans down to nip at your earlobe.
“how’d i get so lucky with you? god.” steve’s voice causing you goosebumps all over your body. “gonna take you from behind right here, baby. that’ okay?”
“mhm. yes, steve. please.” you desperately agree.
he carefully kicks your legs apart and grinds his clothed erection against your bare bottom, letting you feel how hard he is for you. one hand slides around to rub tight circles on your clit while the other grips your hip possessively.
your soft desperate moans whenever he touches you are music to steve’s ears.
with a smirk, steve hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slowly peels them down his hips. as more of his dick comes into view, steve hears your breath hitch.
your head gently turns to look behind you and watch him get undressed.
finally, steve steps out of the fabric pooled around his ankles, his big cock springing free, already leaking at the tip. he strokes the length from base to crown a few times without taking his eyes off of you.
“fuck…” you talk out loud without realizing, looking at his cock completely dumbfounded by his size.
you lock eyes with steve and then with his dick once more. he lets you drink in the sight. the thick, veiny shaft, the swollen purple head already glistening with precum, the heavy sack beneath.
at your continued silence, he raises an eyebrow. “i’ll go slow, baby.”
steve steps even closer, kissing your neck, the thick length of his erection sliding along the cleft of your ass, leaving a trail of precum in its wake.
then, he presses the bulbous head of his dick against your entrance. you can’t help but feel guilty for comparing his size to tyler’s. the difference is stark, almost intimidating.
steve takes a deep breath, reining in his overwhelming urge to simply slam into you.
with a low, rumbling groan, he positions himself at your entrance once more. gripping your hips for leverage, steve begins to push forward, breaching your slick folds with agonizing slowness. the flared head of his cock parts your labia, sinking into your tight heat inch by excruciating inch.
“fuuuuck, baby.” he hisses through clenched teeth. “so goddamn tight. relax for me, sweetheart. breathe and let me in.”
“steve steve steve, fuck!” you moan and grab at his hand on your hips for stability as steve continues his torturously slow advance, pausing frequently to allow your body time to adjust.
with each tiny increment, he can feel you stretching around his cock, accommodating to his size. steve’s fingers dig more into the flesh of your hips, anchoring himself as he struggles for control.
finally, after what feels like an eternity, steve’s heavy balls nestle against your clit. he stays still, savoring the sensation of being fully sheathed inside your cunt.
“holy shit, you feel fucking amazing, babe.” steve groans, voice strained with the effort of holding back. “made for my cock.”
slowly, he starts to move, withdrawing until just the tip remains inside you before pushing back in. steve sets a deep, rolling rhythm, each thrust hitting you deep.
“‘s too much, steve…” you gasp at the feeling.
“i know… i know, baby. take it.” he whispers through clenched teeth again.
the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the kitchen, punctuated by mingled moans.
steve leans over you, covering your smaller frame with his larger one. one hand snakes up to wrap loosely around your throat, applying the barest hint of pressure as the other seeks out your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub.
“fuuuuuuuck, steve- oh my god, m’ steve!” you moan, your voice kinda strained as steve grabs your throat tighter.
steve’s hips snap forward with increasing force, the wet squelch of your pussy, the slap of flesh on flesh echoing through the room.
he looks down to your ass hitting his hips with every thrust only to see a white ring around his cock, both of your juices mixing together. that almost sends him to the edge, a feral grin spreads across steve’s face at the sight.
“fuck, look at that.” he rasps. “you’re dripping on me, sweetheart.”
you can’t look but you know exactly what steve is referring to.
“feels so good, steve.” you pant.
“yeah?” steve groans, giving your ass a sharp slap. “my perfect little cockdrunk girl.”
his grip on your hip loosens slightly, becoming more caressing than bruising. steve’s fingers on your clit speed up, rubbing tight, fast circles.
“you're doing so well, taking me so deep.” he praises huskily.
he maintains the deep thrusts. the hand on your throat slides up to tangle in your hair, tugging your head back slightly as he leans in to nip and suck at the column of your neck.
unable to speak, you arch your back and press yourself against steve.
his hand comes down to deliver a sharp smack to your jiggling ass cheek. the stinging impact seems to spur you on, your cunt clamping down around steve like a vice.
“oooh- fuck, just like that!” he groans, hips snapping forward with renewed vigor.
“steve!” you moan out his name.
the sound of his name falling from your lips in ecstasy sends a bolt of pure lust straight to steve’s cock.
“i’m gonna- oh fuck, steve!” you gasp as steve thrusts.
“gonna what, baby? talk to me. fuuuuuck.”
feeling your body tensing, hearing the breathy warning in your voice, steve knows you’re so so so close. with a final burst of energy, he redoubles his efforts, hips jackhammering into you at a perfect pace.
“cumming, steve. god, you’re cock feels so good.” you let every word come out of you with each thrust of his hips.
the coil of tension in steve’s gut winds tighter and tighter, his thrusts growing erratic. he can feel your walls fluttering around his cock.
“let go, cum for me, baby.”
“oooh fuck! steve!” you throw your head back and scream in pleasure as your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing.
your inner muscles clamp down on steve’s throbbing dick, rippling and squeezing as wave after wave of intense pleasure courses through.
the feeling of your pussy squeezing him is too much to bear. with a moan of your name, steve buries himself to the hilt inside you, thick cock pulsing as he explodes inside you.
“fuck, fuck, fuck!” steve groans, hands squeezing your ass.
jet after jet of hot, thick cum paints your inner walls, flooding your insides with steve. he grinds against you, working his release deeper.
steve collapses forward, blanketing your form with his larger one as he rides out the aftershocks, his softening cock still twitching weakly inside your pussy.
“fuck…” you whisper, breath already slowing down.
now, the refrigerator hums, outside, a car passes down the street.
steve’s hand moves to your waist absentmindedly, thumb brushing back and forth like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. honestly, he probably doesn’t, he’s always touching you. the difference is that now you’re both painfully aware of it.
you swallow. “say something.”
that finally gets a real smile out of him.
“can’t really talk right now to be honest.” he laughs. “still… still coming back from what we just did.”
you smile at that, putting your back against his chest, kissing his jawline.
for a second neither of you says anything.
then steve exhales softly. “we’ll figure it out.”
you look at him. “you don’t even know what ‘it’ is.”
“doesn’t matter.”
the answer comes so fast it almost makes you laugh. “steve-”
“i’m serious.” his eyes don’t leave yours. “we’ll figure it out.”
and maybe it’s ridiculous.
maybe the entire night is ridiculous.
but standing there with him looking at you like that, so certain.
for the first time since tyler knocked on that door…
you almost believe it too.
note: omggggg this took me so LONG to write but i hope it was worth it 😭😭 tagging everyone who asked to be tagged !!
OMGG i finally got the time to read crossing lines and girlllll you've outdone yourself !!!!! that fic was so amazing like dont talk to me... i love everything you write sooo much so its not a surprise that im obsessed with this one, but yearning steve is literally on another levellll and you write him perfectly !! MWAHMWAH ilysm i hope your doing good !!!! we miss you angelll <3
omggggg hiiii love 🫶🏻 thank u so much for this, ily. im currently slowlyyyyy writing the second chapter of crossing lines because i just got my wisdom teeth out and it’s taking me a while to recover !! but im glad you love it and ill put out the second chapter very very soon ;) MAYBE this week !!!
pairing: best friend!steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve can’t stand your dumbass boyfriend so he takes matters into his own hands.
warnings: cheating (not on steve), angst, reader uses she/her pronouns, arguments, mutual pining, kissing, steve absolutely yearns for the reader.
note: i loved writing this ☹️ requests are open !!
part 1 | part 2
don’t repost or translate my work.
you’ve been with tyler for a few months now.
long enough that the excuses have patterns, the apologies sound rehearsed, and the little things, the ones you used to brush off, don’t feel so little anymore.
he cancels plans last minute. forgets things you tell him. flirts just a little too openly with other girls and then calls you “dramatic” when you bring it up. and somehow, every time you start to pull away, he pulls you right back in with just enough charm to make you question everything again.
it’s exhausting. and, if you’re being honest? a little lonely.
which is how you end up here, on steve’s couch, like always.
your safe place. your best friend.
your legs are thrown over his lap, your sock-covered foot nudging his side absentmindedly while the tv plays something neither of you are paying attention to. his hand rests warm against your calf, thumb brushing slow, distracted circles like it’s second nature.
it is second nature.
you’ve done this a hundred times before. late nights, quiet talks, steve half-listening to whatever you’re venting about while pretending not to care more than he does.
except tonight, he’s not pretending very well.
“i just don’t get it…” he mutters, more to himself than to you, but loud enough that it lands anyway.
you sigh, already bracing. “steve-”
“no, seriously.” he cuts in, sitting forward a little, his hand dropping from your leg like he suddenly remembers himself. “what does he actually do for you?”
you pull your legs back this time, tucking them under you. “we’re not doing this again.”
“we are, apparently!” he shoots back, eyes locked on your legs who just left his touch. “because nothing changes.”
your jaw tightens. “that’s not fair, steve.”
“it’s exactly fair,” steve says, sharper now, turning fully toward you. “you come here every time he screws up, and then you defend him like i’m the problem.”
“i’m not saying you’re the problem-”
“then what are you saying?” he presses. “because from where i’m sitting, it looks like you’re just… okay with being treated like that.”
“i’m not okay with it.” you stare at him.
“then why stay?” he demands, throwing his hands up. “what is so great about this guy that makes all of this worth it?”
you hesitate and for steve, that’s all it takes.
he lets out a short, disbelieving laugh, running a hand through his hair. “right. yeah. that’s what i thought.”
“stop,” you snap, sitting up straighter. “you don’t get to do that.”
“do what?”
“act like i’m stupid!” you say, your voice rising. “like i don’t know what’s going on in my own relationship.”
“well, sometimes it really seems like you don’t. you’re making yourself look stupid.” he fires back.
the words hang there.
ugly. heavier than anything he’s said before.
steve realizes it the second it leaves his mouth. you can see it in the way his expression flickers, but it’s too late.
your face falls, hurt flashing across it before it hardens into something colder.
“wow…” you say quietly.
“that’s n-” he starts, but he’s already too worked up to backtrack properly. “i didn’t mean it like that, i just-”
“no, you did.” you cut him off. “you always do this. you push and push until you cross a line, and then you act like it’s fine because you think you’re right.”
“i am right!” he insists, even as his voice drops slightly, like he knows he’s losing you in real time. “he treats you like crap, and you just keep going back-”
“because it’s my choice, steve!” your voice rises more.
“it’s a bad one!” he replied, his own voice now rising too.
“it’s not yours to make!”
the room goes silent for half a second, both of you breathing harder now.
steve shakes his head, frustrated, pacing once in front of the couch. “i’m just trying to help you.”
“no,” you say, standing up now too, your hands clenched at your sides. “you’re trying to control me.”
he stops dead. “that’s not what this is.”
“then what is it, steve?” you challenge, your voice shaking just slightly. “because this doesn’t feel like support. it feels like you’re judging every decision i make.”
“i’m judging him!” he shoots back.
“you’re judging me by extension.” you reply immediately.
he opens his mouth, then closes it again, jaw tightening.
you don’t give him time to recover.
“you think i don’t see it?” you continue. “the looks, the comments, the way you talk about him like i’m too blind to notice? it’s exhausting.”
“good.” he says, before he can stop himself. “maybe you should be exhausted enough to finally leave him.”
that one cuts deep.
your expression shifts completely now, hurt giving way to anger. real anger.
“you don’t get to decide when i’m done.” you say, your voice low and sharp.
“then when?” he demands. “when he cheats on you? when he forgets your birthday? when he-”
“stop!” you shout, the word echoing in the room.
steve freezes.
your eyes are bright now, not quite tears but close enough that it makes his chest twist.
all that steve wants to do right now is pull you into his arms and say how much he loves you but he’s too exhausted of this situation.
“you don’t get to sit there and list off all the ways this could go wrong like i haven’t thought about it!” you say, your voice breaking just slightly. “you don’t get to make me feel worse about something i already feel bad about. you’re not the one who’s supposed to do that.”
his anger flickers, replaced by something else. regret, maybe. but it’s tangled up with too much frustration to come out right.
“baby, i’m not trying to make you feel worse.” he says, softer now.
“you are.” you flinch at the usual nickname almost immediately. “every time you talk like this, you are.”
there’s a long pause.
steve looks at you like he wants to fix it, like he’s searching for the exact right words but all he finds is more truth, and it comes out harsher than he intends.
“i just don’t understand why you keep choosing him…” he says.
you stare at him.
and something in you snaps.
“maybe because he doesn’t make me feel like an idiot all the time.” you shoot back.
the second it’s out, you both feel it.
steve’s face falls, like you just knocked the wind out of him.
you know too well that that’s not true. tyler did make you feel like an idiot all the time, steve didn’t.
“that’s not fair.” he says quietly.
“neither is this, steve…” you reply, grabbing your jacket.
his head lifts, worry all over his eyes. “what are you doing?”
“leaving.” you say, walking towards his door.
“seriously?” there’s a sharp edge of panic under his voice now. “you’re just gonna walk out?”
you stop at the door, hand on the handle, and finally look back at him.
“i came here because i thought you were on my side.” you say. “not because i wanted another person telling me everything i’m doing wrong.”
“i am on your side!” he insists, stepping forward. “that’s the whole point-”
“then start acting like it.” you cut in.
that shuts him up.
he just stands there, a few steps away, hands slightly raised like he doesn’t know whether to reach for you or let you go.
you hold his gaze for a second longer, your chest tight, your anger still simmering under everything else and then you shake your head.
“i can’t do this right now.”
and you leave.
the door closes harder than you meant it to, maybe because of the windy weather outside, maybe because of how angry you were.
and on the other side, steve stands there in the silence you left behind, running a hand through his hair, jaw tight, replaying every word.
knowing he went too far and hating that he still doesn’t regret why.
even after a few days of ignoring steve, the quiet after everything feels louder than the argument itself.
it follows you all the way home, lingers in the hallway, settles into your room like it belongs there, heavy, unmoving, impossible to ignore.
you sit on the edge of your bed for a long time without really meaning to, hands slack in your lap, staring at nothing.
and it all starts replaying like it always does.
not in order. not clean.
just pieces.
the way his voice sharpened. the way yours did too. the look on steve’s face when your words hit and everything in him just dropped.
that’s the part that won’t let you go, because you didn’t mean it like that.
or maybe you did, just not in the way it sounded out loud, not in the way it landed between you like something final.
you can still see it, clear as anything.
you try to justify it at first, tell yourself he pushed too far, that he crossed lines first, that he kept pressing and pressing until you snapped but the reasoning never quite settles.
not when you know him. not when you know how much he cares.
he cares enough to get it wrong. enough to say things too harshly, to push when he should stop, to look at you like your choices matter to him more than they should.
and you took that and turned it into something sharp, something that hurt him back.
the guilt comes in slow, but once it’s there, it stays. sits heavy in your chest, in your throat, in the quiet space around you but it doesn’t replace everything else.
because the other feeling is still there too. the one that started all of this.
a dull ache that you’ve gotten too used to carrying.
you lie back eventually, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the house settle around you. somewhere in the distance, a car passes. a door shuts. life keeps moving in small, ordinary ways.
but you feel stuck, caught between two things that both hurt for completely different reasons.
one that makes you feel small.
one that makes you feel seen in a way that’s almost too much.
your eyes sting, but you blink it away, turning onto your side, curling in on yourself and your mind drifts back to him again, whether you want it to or not.
to the couch. to the space between you that never used to feel like distance. to the way his hand had been resting on your leg like it belonged there, steady, familiar, grounding. like he wasn’t going anywhere.
you shouldn’t even think about him like this.
now, you avoid the places he might be, take different routes without thinking too hard about it. tell yourself it’s just for a little while, just until everything settles, just until you figure out what to say.
but the truth sits heavier than that because no matter how much time passes the silence doesn’t feel like relief. it just feels like something missing.
it’s late afternoon when he finally shows up.
not too late, just that quiet, in-between hour where the sun is starting to dip but hasn’t fully committed yet, casting everything in that soft, gold light that makes things feel slower than they are.
you are not expect anyone.
so when the knock comes, it catches you off guard.
once. twice. hesitant.
you hesitate too.
for a second, you consider not answering. pretending you’re not home. letting whoever it is deal with the silence and go away.
but something in the way the knock sounded, careful and unsure, pulls you to the door anyway.
and when you open it- of course it’s him.
steve stands there like he’s been debating this for hours.
hair slightly out of place, like he’s run his hands through it one too many times. shoulders tense, but not in that angry, worked-up way you’ve seen before. this is different.
his eyes meet yours, and for a second neither of you says anything.
it’s been days but it feels longer.
“hey…” he says finally, voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it.
you swallow. “hey.”
another pause.
he shifts his weight, glancing down at the porch for a second before looking back up at you, like he’s trying to find the right way to start and coming up short.
“can i…?” he gestures vaguely. “can i come in? just for a minute.”
you hesitate a little, then step aside.
the second the door closes behind him, the silence changes.
full of everything that’s been sitting between you for days, heavy and aching and unfinished.
his eyes are locked on you with this awful mix of relief and fear that makes your chest tighten painfully.
it genuinely hurts you to look at him, because it’s steve.
your steve.
the boy who sprawls across your bed like he lives there. who reaches for your hand without thinking. who calls you baby in that warm, absentminded voice. who always touches you somehow, your knee, your wrist, your hair, your shoulder, as if being connected to you is instinctive for him.
and right now he looks like he’s barely able to exist next to you.
he’s closer now. close enough that the familiar scent of his cologne wraps around you immediately, close enough that the warmth of him settles into the room like something your body recognizes before your brain does.
he turns toward you slowly, like he’s bracing himself. then the words come out all at once.
“i’m sorry.”
immediate, he’s been holding it in for days.
his eyes don’t leave yours.
“i’m really sorry.”
you open your mouth, but he keeps going before you can say anything, like if he stops now he’ll lose the nerve.
“i shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” he says, voice rough. “i shouldn’t have pushed you the way i did. i just-”
he cuts himself off, frustrated, dragging both hands through his hair. “god, i was so angry for you, and i handled it completely wrong.”
his chest rises sharply with a breath.
“and then you left and i-” he stops again.
this time because whatever he was about to say clearly feels too honest.
you see it happen in real time. the way he swallows it down. the way his jaw tightens. the way his eyes flick away from yours for the first time since he walked in.
“steve…”
the second you say his name softly like that, his eyes snap back to yours.
“those few days sucked.” he admits quietly.
another step closer.
“like… really sucked.”
you almost smile through the ache in your chest but then his expression shifts again, more vulnerable this time.
“i kept picking up the phone to call you.,” he says softly. “and then i kept thinking maybe you didn’t wanna hear from me.”
your throat tightens immediately.
“and every time it rang at my house, i thought maybe it was you.” he laughs weakly after saying it, embarrassed by his own honesty, but there’s no real humor in it. “pathetic, right?”
it’s not.
god, it’s not.
he says it like someone who genuinely felt your absence everywhere.
his hand lifts slightly at his side like he wants to touch you already, but he stops himself.
you notice that too.
the restraint.
and somehow that feels even more intimate than if he’d just grabbed you immediately. because steve is naturally physical with you. always has been. he leans on you constantly, pulls you into his side during movies, hooks an arm around your shoulders absentmindedly, rests his hand on your knee while driving like it belongs there.
touching you is natural to him.
so the fact that he’s holding back now, that he’s waiting for permission, makes your chest ache.
“i hated fighting with you.” his voice lowers. “especially because i know i hurt you.”
your eyes sting and the second he notices, something in him completely caves.
“hey.” he says softly, stepping closer fast this time, concern all over his face. “hey, no, baby-”
the nickname comes out instinctively.
his hand finally reaches you, fingers wrapping gently around your wrist like he can’t stand not touching you anymore.
the contact visibly settles him, his shoulders drop slightly, his thumb brushes slowly against your skin.
“don’t cry.” he murmurs.
which only makes you want to cry more.
he looks at you like it physically hurts him when you’re upset, especially when he caused it.
“i’m sorry...” he says again, softer now. “god, baby, i’m so sorry.”
his other hand comes up too, settling carefully at your waist and the second he touches you there, something shifts in him.
relief, actual relief.
he exhales shakily, eyes closing for half a second.
“there you are.” he whispers.
his hands tighten slightly, enough to keep you close.
“you scared me.” he admits suddenly.
he shakes his head slightly, eyes dropping for a second before lifting back to yours. “i know that sounds stupid, but… you did.”
his thumb keeps moving against your waist in slow, absent strokes. comforting himself as much as you.
“when you stopped talking to me, i kept thinking maybe this was it.” he says softly. “like maybe you finally got tired of me always pushing too hard and decided i wasn’t worth dealing with anymore.”
“steve-”
“i mean it.” he says quickly, stepping even closer. “i know i can be a lot sometimes. especially with you.”
his voice softens on those last two words.
his forehead almost touches yours before he stops himself at the last second, breathing uneven now.
“i don’t know what i’d do if i lost you.” he says quietly.
there’s no exaggeration in it. just pure truth.
his fingers flex slightly at your waist before sliding around you more fully, pulling you closer in this slow, careful way like he’s terrified of overstepping and equally terrified of letting go.
you let him, instantly.
his eyes close briefly. his shoulders finally relax.
his face dips closer, his nose brushing lightly against your hair for a second as he exhales shakily.
“missed you so much.” he murmurs before he can stop himself.
the confession slips out so quietly you almost think you imagined it.
but then his arms tighten around you immediately after saying it, like he regrets letting something that honest escape.
or maybe regrets how much he means it.
you can feel his heartbeat through his shirt.
fast and steady.
and the way he holds you, god.
he’s been yearning for this exact moment since the second you walked out of his house.
your fingers tighten slightly in the back of his shirt before you can stop yourself.
his hands slide slowly up and down your back once, soothing.
you pull back just enough to look at him.
it’s a mistake because up close like this, you can see every emotion on his face.
the exhaustion, the relief, the fear that still hasn’t fully left him.
his hands stay at your waist, thumbs brushing absent circles against your sides like he can’t stop touching you now that he’s allowed to again.
“don’t look at me like that.” you whisper before you can stop yourself.
his brows pull together immediately. “like what?”
“like i broke your heart.” the words slip out quietly.
one of his hands leaves your waist, coming up to cup the side of your face carefully, thumb brushing under your eye.
“you didn’t break my heart.” he murmurs. “you just scared the hell outta me.”
your throat tightens painfully.
you lean into his hand before you can think better of it, and his entire expression changes when you do.
his eyes soften instantly.
his thumb stills against your skin for half a second like he’s savoring it.
“i’m sorry.” you whisper finally.
the words have been sitting inside you for days.
“hey,” he says quietly, almost immediate. “you don’t have to-”
“no.” you interrupt softly, shaking your head. “i do.”
his hand stays warm against your cheek.
“what i said to you was awful.” you swallow hard.
his expression tightens slightly. “no-”
“it was.” you insist, voice trembling slightly now. “i knew exactly where to hit, and i did.”
his eyes flicker over your face carefully, like he hates hearing you talk about yourself that way.
“i was angry,” you continue quietly. “and hurt. and embarrassed. and you kept pushing and i just…” your voice breaks slightly. “i wanted you to hurt too.”
the honesty hangs heavy between you.
steve’s face softens immediately.
“c’mere.” he murmurs instinctively, pulling you back against him before you can protest.
his arms wrap around you tighter this time, one hand sliding up into your hair slowly, fingers brushing gently against your scalp.
“don´t talk about yourself like you’re some horrible person for snapping after being pushed too far.” he whispers.
“still doesn’t make it okay.” you let out a weak breath against his chest.
“i know.” he says softly. “but it doesn’t make me love you any less either.”
the words slip out naturally. easy like they’ve lived inside him forever, and the second he realizes what he said, he freezes. completely.
so do you.
the silence afterward feels enormous.
his hand stills in your hair.
his heartbeat kicks harder beneath your cheek.
and when you slowly look up at him, he already looks wrecked by it. eyes wide slightly, breathing uneven, like he wants to take it back and absolutely doesn’t.
“steve…”
he closes his eyes briefly, forehead dropping against yours with a quiet groan of embarrassment.
“great...” he mutters weakly. “great timing, harrington.”
despite everything, a tiny laugh escapes you, and the sound completely undoes him.
his eyes open instantly, locking onto your face like hearing you laugh again after days without it is the best thing that’s happened to him all week.
“there she is.” he murmurs softly.
his nose brushes yours lightly when he says it.
barely there. intimate enough to make your chest ache.
his hands tighten at your waist again, grounding himself and suddenly all the emotion you’ve been holding back for days comes rushing up at once.
“these past few days have been awful.” you admit quietly. “everything just felt… wrong.”
his eyes don’t leave yours, completely locked in, listening.
“i kept getting mad at you.” you continue softly, “and then feeling worse because i missed you at the same time.”
your fingers curl tighter into his shirt.
“and things with tyler have just…” you swallow hard. “i don’t know. been exhausting, i guess.”
steve’s jaw tightens slightly at the mention of your boyfriend, but this time he says nothing.
he just listens.
for you.
“i already felt so stupid,” you admit quietly. “about everything. about letting things get this bad with ty. about still trying to defend him.”
his hands slide soothingly over your back again, slow and careful.
“and then we fought too.” you whisper. “and suddenly i felt like i was losing the one person i always go to when things get hard.”
his eyes close briefly like he physically feels it in his chest.
“sweetheart...” he murmurs.
his forehead presses fully against yours now.
his arms pull you impossibly closer.
“you’re not losing me.” he says immediately.
firm.
certain.
“you hear me?” he whispers. “you could never lose me.”
your eyes sting again instantly and steve just holds you tighter.
with the way he keeps his body wrapped around yours like letting go isn’t even an option anymore.
for a few seconds, neither of you moves.
you just stay there wrapped up in each other, breathing the same air, your foreheads pressed together while steve holds you like letting go would physically hurt him.
his arms are tight around your waist now.
your fingers are still tangled in the fabric of his shirt, gripping unconsciously, and every slow breath that leaves him brushes warm against your skin.
the entire room feels quiet in a strange way. too quiet.
steve’s eyes lift slowly from your mouth back to your eyes and something changes. you feel it immediately.
the air thickens. his hands tighten at your waist ever so slightly. your heartbeat stumbles.
the way he’s looking at you now, it’s not friendly. it’s years of something unspoken sitting right there between you both, suddenly impossible to ignore.
his gaze flicks down to your lips again, slowly like he’s trying not to.
your breath catches softly, and the sound visibly affects him.
his eyes close for half a second, like he’s trying to steady himself but when they open again, he looks wrecked. completely wrecked by you.
“steve…” you whisper.
the sound of his name in your voice, soft and breathless and so close to him after days of missing you it snaps the last thread of restraint he has left.
his hand slides suddenly from your waist up into your hair, fingers curling carefully at the back of your neck as he kisses you.
hard. immediate. he’s been wanting to do it forever.
you barely have time to breathe before he’s pulling you closer against him, kissing you with this overwhelming mix of desperation and relief that makes your knees weak instantly.
it’s messy in the best way.
all those years of lingering touches and too-long stares and feelings shoved down too deep finally crashing into one moment.
his mouth moves against yours like he can’t get enough.
like he’s trying to make up for every second he spent not touching you.
a quiet sound escapes him when you kiss him back harder, your fingers going under his shirt to touch his soft belly, and the noise goes straight through you.
because steve kisses exactly the way he loves, completely.
his grip in your hair softens almost immediately after that first desperate second, fingertips sliding through it gently while his other arm wraps tighter around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
your back presses lightly against the wall beside the door without either of you noticing.
steve follows instantly.
his forehead bumps yours clumsily for half a second between kisses, and he lets out this breathless little laugh against your mouth like he can’t believe this is actually happening.
then he’s kissing you again before either of you can think too hard.
deeper this time but somehow even more intense.
his thumb brushes softly under your jaw while he kisses you, like even now, even kissing you like this, he’s still careful with you.
still gentle underneath all the intensity.
“god,” he whispers shakily against your lips at one point, eyes barely opening to look at you. “baby…”
you can actually feel how hard his heart is beating through his chest where your body’s pressed against his.
and when your hands slide up into his hair finally, steve completely loses whatever composure he had left. a soft groan leaves him before he can stop it, his head dipping lower instinctively as he kisses you harder.
his hand at your waist spreads wider against your lower back, fingertips pressing into you through your shirt.
you break apart only for air, both breathing unevenly, but neither of you gets far. steve’s forehead stays pressed against yours, lips still brushing yours when he talks.
“you have no idea,” he murmurs breathlessly, eyes searching all over your face. “how long i’ve wanted to do that.”
your stomach flips violently because there’s nothing casual about the way he says it.
his hand slides from your waist back up to your face again, cupping your cheek so carefully it almost hurts. he looks at you for a second like he’s overwhelmed by his own feelings.
his forehead stays pressed against yours. both of you breathing unevenly. neither of you really pulling away.
the room feels suspended.
quiet in that strange, heavy way where every tiny thing suddenly feels important. the sound of his breathing, the way his thumb keeps brushing unconsciously against your side, the warmth of his mouth still lingering on yours.
steve opens his eyes slowly and just looks at you.
he looks like he’s trying to process the fact that he finally kissed you after wanting to for what feels like forever.
his lips part slightly like he’s about to say something. but nothing comes out. because he looks overwhelmed.
his eyes flick slowly across your face, lingering on your mouth again for half a second before lifting back to your eyes, and there’s something almost dangerous in the tenderness there.
your hand is still tangled in the hair at the back of his neck.
his hand is still cupping your cheek.
and for a second neither of you moves at all.
steve swallows hard.
“you okay?” he asks quietly.
you nod slightly but your heart is pounding too hard.
the haze is starting to thin just enough for reality to creep back in and you see the exact moment it hits him too.
his eyes drop from yours and suddenly the air changes completely.
you feel it settle between you both at the same time.
tyler. your boyfriend.
the fact that you have one.
the fact that steve just kissed you anyway.
the fact that you kissed him back.
your stomach twists.
steve steps back first, barely half a step but it feels huge after how close he’d been holding you seconds ago.
his hands fall from your waist slowly.
“shit…” he whispers.
the word sounds rough.
you look down immediately, chest tightening painfully.
and for the first time since he walked in, neither of you knows what to do with yourselves. steve runs a hand through his hair quickly, pacing back once before stopping himself.
“shit.” he says again quieter this time.
you can’t even look at him properly, because the guilt hits all at once. hot and heavy and immediate.
“i- oh my god.” your voice catches. “i didn’t…”
you don’t even know how to finish that sentence.
didn’t mean to?
didn’t expect it?
didn’t want it?
none of those are true.
and that’s the worst part.
steve notices your expression immediately.
“hey…” he says softly.
you shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself slightly. “i have a boyfriend.”
the words feel awful out loud.
steve closes his eyes briefly, not because he disagrees, because he knows.
“i know.” he says quietly.
the guilt in his voice somehow makes your chest ache even more.
he leans back against the wall for a second, dragging a hand over his face like he’s trying to get himself together.
“i know… shit.” he repeats softer.
silence stretches.
your lips still feel warm from kissing him, and somehow that makes everything worse.
or maybe better.
you can’t tell anymore.
“i’m sorry, steve.” you whisper finally.
steve’s head lifts immediately. “don’t.”
“but i should be.”
“so should i.” he says quietly.
your eyes meet his again and god, he looks torn apart. not regretful about kissing you. that’s the problem. he looks guilty about it, but not sorry.
there’s a difference and you can see him fighting with that realization in real time.
“i swear to god i didn’t come here planning to do that.” he says softly. “i just wanted to fix things with you.”
you believe him instantly.
this happened because the feelings were already there. because the tension had been there for too long. because steve looks at you like you matter too much to him.
he laughs once quietly, but there’s no humor in it.
“although apparently i’ve wanted to kiss you for so long that the second you looked at me like that, i completely lost my mind.”
your breath catches.
his eyes flick to yours immediately after saying it, like he didn’t mean to admit that part out loud. but he doesn’t take it back.
he just looks at you honestly, too honestly.
“jesus...”
“i know this is messed up.” he shakes his head slightly, jaw tight.
you can hear how hard he’s trying to keep himself together now. trying to pull himself back into the version of himself that would never hurt you. or help you hurt someone else.
“i’m not gonna be that guy.” he says quietly, more to himself than to you. “i’m not. even though i hate tyler, i’m not gonna be that guy.”
your chest tightens and somehow that makes you want him even more.
he pushes himself off the wall again slowly, looking at you carefully.
“did he…” he starts quietly, then stops. “are things even okay between you two?”
you laugh weakly at that, not because it’s funny, because neither of you knows how to answer that anymore.
steve’s face softens immediately at the sound.
you shake your head slightly, overwhelmed.
“i don’t know anymore, steve.” you admit.
and that’s the truth.
steve looks at you for a long moment, then he nods once slowly, like he understands more than you’re saying.
“okay…” he murmurs softly.
his eyes flick to your lips one last time before he forces himself to look away.
and you can actually see the restraint in him now, because every part of him clearly wants to cross the room and kiss you again. but he doesn’t. instead he just stands there, breathing unevenly.
even now, some part of him wants to kiss you again.
knock knock knock
the sound slices through the room, sharp enough to make both of you jump apart instantly.
steve’s hands fall from his face.
you stumble back half a step, your heart slamming violently against your ribs.
another silence crashes down.
steve drags a hand through his hair quickly, still looking completely dazed from you.
“shit.” he breathes.
the knock comes again. harder this time.
steve looks toward the door immediately, then back at you.
for a second neither of you moves.
then he clears his throat roughly.
“i’ll-” his voice comes out strained. “i’ll get it.”
you nod too quickly, still trying to steady your breathing while he turns toward the front door.
you follow behind him automatically, almost like instinct, arms wrapping around yourself tightly.
steve reaches the door first, his shoulders tense slightly before he grabs the handle, then he pulls the door open.
request: frenemies steve and reader. reader is having bed chem problems with her one night stands and robin tells steve, making them bicker bc steve wants to use his sex ed teacher knowledge to help reader.
he knows better - steve harrington
pairing: fem!reader x steve harrington
warnings: smut with plot, car sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), p in v, not proofread, bad sex experience (not with steve obvi), oral sex.
note: i’m back, loves !! hope you like this one ;)
don’t repost or translate my work.
the bell above the door of the diner jingles as you push it open with the quiet dignity of someone who absolutely did not spend the entire walk here contemplating moving to another state.
robin looks up from the table, sipping a milkshake, and immediately squints at you.
“okay,” she says slowly, setting the drink down. “that face right there? that’s not a ‘good morning robin how are you doing today’ face. that’s a ‘something humiliating happened and i’m about to emotionally dump on you whether you like it or not’ face.”
you drop your bag on the seat and seat down, resting your forehead against your arms like it might absorb your shame.
“please don’t start.” you mumble.
“oh no,” she says immediately, clasping her hands together. “you don’t get to walk in here looking like that and expect me not to start. that posture alone is screaming ‘last night went catastrophically wrong in a way that’s probably hilarious to everyone except you.’”
you lift your head just enough to glare at her. “nothing happened.”
robin raises one eyebrow so high it practically disappears into her hairline.
“so just to be clear, you came in here looking like a war veteran, you’ve got the thousand-yard stare and you’re trying to tell me nothing happened.” she says slowly, leaning forward.
you stare at her.
she stares back.
“fine…” you sigh.
robin immediately points at you. “i knew it.”
“don’t look so excited.” you sigh.
“i’m not excited.” she says, already grinning. “i’m invested. those are two very different emotional states.”
“i met someone last night.” you drag a hand down your face.
“okay, that alone is not dramatic enough to produce this level of despair, so either he turned out to be secretly married, secretly insane, or secretly terrible in bed.” robin nods thoughtfully.
you hesitate.
robin’s eyes widen. “oh. my. god.”
“don’t say it like that, rob.” you groan.
“it was bad sex, wasn’t it?”
“robin.”
“was it catastrophically bad or just awkward bad? because there’s a difference and i need to know which scale we’re operating on here.”
you slump against the table. “i swear to god if you laugh at me-”
“i’m absolutely going to laugh at you.” she says immediately, “but it’ll be supportive laughter. like a caring friend who is also deeply entertained.”
you take a deep breath.
“okay,” you say slowly, pointing at her. “i need you to listen to the entire story before you react, because the context is important and if you interrupt me every five seconds i’m going to lose my nerve and never speak again.”
robin salutes. “understood. go on.”
you sigh.
“so i met him at the bar some random night, right? and before you start giving me that look, he was actually cute. like genuinely cute, not the ‘it’s midnight and everyone looks better after two drinks’ kind of cute. he was funny, he was charming, he had that whole slightly awkward but confident thing going on where you think, wow, maybe this one is actually normal.”
robin nods slowly. “okay, promising start.”
“exactly!” you say, pointing at her like she’s proving your point. “so we’re talking for like an hour, maybe more, and the conversation is good and he’s making me laugh and at no point does he say anything weird or off-putting, which in hindsight should have been suspicious because statistically speaking that’s very unlike my usual luck.”
robin presses her lips together to keep from smiling.
“so then eventually,” you continue, “we end up going back to his place, and at that point i’m thinking, okay, maybe the universe is finally doing me a favor for once, maybe this will be one of those nights where everything just works and i don’t end up questioning my life choices afterwards.”
“i’m noticing a lot of past trauma being implied here.” robin tilts her head.
“that’s not the point.”
“continue.”
you gesture dramatically. “so everything starts off normal, right? we’re talking, we’re laughing, we’re kissing, and at first i’m thinking okay this is fine, this is good even, maybe i judged my luck too harshly, maybe tonight will actually break the curse.”
“ah, the curse…” robin repeats.
“don’t make fun of the curse.”
“i’m respecting the curse.”
you stare at her.
“anyway,” you continue, “things escalate like they normally do, and right when we get to the point where he’s supposed to… get us there… he just- starts narrating.”
robin leans forward eagerly.
there’s a beat of silence.
robin blinks.
“…narrating.”
you nod slowly. “like a nature documentary.”
“you’re lying.” robin’s mouth falls open.
“i wish i was.”
“like- like play-by-play?”
“yes.”
“no.”
“yes.” you gesture helplessly. “i’m not exaggerating when i say that man started explaining every single thing he was about to do like he was giving a presentation to a room full of students. it was like he thought he was hosting a seminar called ‘intro to pleasing women’ and i was the unfortunate volunteer for the demonstration.”
robin presses both hands over her mouth, shoulders shaking. “stop.”
“i’m serious,” you say, staring at the ceiling. “and then after a few days i went on a second date with him, trying to convince myself that maybe he wouldn’t do it again… he did it again.”
robin makes a strangled noise. “oh my god.”
robin loses it.
she slides halfway down her seat, clutching her stomach.
you glare at her. “i’m glad my suffering is hilarious to you.”
“i’m sorry.” she says immediately, not sounding sorry at all. “i’m really trying to be supportive but the mental image of some guy treating sex like a presentation is killing me.”
“it got worse.” you drop your head onto the table again.
robin straightens. “how could it possibly get worse?”
“now every time i try to get off, his fucking voice starts playing in my head and i just- i can’t.” you run a hand through your face.
“please tell me you’re joking.” robin stares at you.
“i wish i was joking.”
“have you tried maybe watching something while doing it?” robin suggests.
“i’m not a guy, rob. i can’t watch porn to get off…” you sigh.
“works for me…” she shrugs her shoulders.
you cover your face.
“this keeps happening to you, doesn’t it? even with different people?”
“yes.” you groan.
robin wipes her eyes and squints at you thoughtfully. “interesting.”
“what does that mean?” you narrow your eyes.
“i’m just saying, at some point we have to acknowledge a pattern. because if this kind of bizarre bedroom disaster keeps happening with multiple unrelated men, then either you have unbelievably bad luck or you have some kind of invisible magnet that attracts guys who think sex should come with a commentary track.” she shrugs.
“i hate that theory.” you stare at her.
“i’m just analyzing the data.”
“stop analyzing my sex life.”
“have you ever had really good chemistry with anyone?” robin leans back, tapping her chin like a detective piecing together a mystery.
you hesitate.
her eyes light up immediately.
“wow,” she says slowly. “that pause was something.”
“i did not pause.”
“you absolutely paused.”
“this conversation is over.” you cross your arms.
“you know who would have a field day with this information?” robin grins.
your stomach drops.
“robin, absolutely not.”
“steve.” she grins even more now.
“robin.”
“imagine his face.”
“if you tell harrington about this i will actually never speak to you again.” you point at her threateningly.
“who said anything about telling him.” she raises her hands innocently.
“i’ve been friends with you for years, robin. you can’t keep your mouth shut.” you narrow your eyes.
she smiles sweetly and that’s when you realize you’ve made a terrible mistake trusting robin with anything.
the kitchen at steve’s house is quiet and dark, like usual.
steve is slouched in a chair with a half-crushed bag of chips in one hand, staring at literally nothing while waiting for robin.
robin walks in carrying two sodas and the unmistakable expression of someone who knows a piece of information that is about to ruin another person’s day.
steve doesn’t even look up before he says, “whatever you’re about to say, the answer is no.”
robin pauses mid-step. “i didn’t say anything yet.”
“you didn’t have to.” he replies, still staring at the movie case. “you’ve got that look.”
“what look...?”
“that look where you’re clearly about to say something that’s either extremely embarrassing or extremely annoying.”
she sets one of the sodas in front of him and drops into the chair across from him.
“wow.” she says. “you really think the worst of me.
“robin.” he finally looks up.
“steve.”
they stare at each other for a moment.
then she takes a sip of her drink, pretending to be casual.
“so,” she says lightly, “i had a very interesting conversation yesterday.”
“i swear to god if this is about work schedules-” steve groans and leans his head back against the chair.
“not work.”
“about dustin?”
“not dustin.”
“thank god.” steve sighs.
“it’s about my best friend.” she taps the table slowly.
“what about her?” steve immediately looks back at her.
robin pretends to think about how to phrase it.
“well,” she says, dragging the moment out just a little, “hypothetically speaking… if someone told you that they keep having deeply awkward experiences with guys in bed… what would your first thought be?”
“that’s a weird question.” steve blinks at her.
“just answer it.”
“why?!”
“because i asked.”
“this is about her, isn’t it?” he squints suspiciously.
robin raises her eyebrows innocently. “maybe.”
“wait…” steve slowly sets the chip bag down.
she watches the gears start turning in his head.
“she told you that?” he asks.
“in detail.”
“like… bad awkward?” he straightens in his chair a little.
“painfully awkward.” robin nods.
“that doesn’t make sense.” steve frowns, clearly trying to picture that.
robin tilts her head. “what doesn’t?”
“that.” he replies.
“why…?”
“because- i mean-” he gestures vaguely like the answer should be obvious.
he stops, realizing how that might sound.
robin’s grin spreads slowly. “…because?”
“i’m just saying… she’s like… you know.” steve rubs the back of his neck.
“no…” robin says sweetly. “i don’t know. please elaborate.”
“she’s… attractive.” he sighs.
“that’s your word choice?” robin stares at him.
“what’s wrong with attractive?” steve stares.
“attractive…?”
“yes.” he says.
“steve harrington, former king of dramatic compliments, looked at a girl you clearly like and said attractive.”
“you know what i mean.” he rolls his eyes.
“do i?”
“she’s hot, okay?” he says, exasperated. “like really hot. anyone with eyes can see that.”
“oh we’ve upgraded to hot.” robin raises both eyebrows now.
steve gestures with both hands like he’s explaining something obvious.
“i’m just saying, it doesn’t track that she’d keep having bad experiences. any guy with half a brain would be trying not to screw that up.”
“you have an incredibly generous opinion of men.” robin snorts.
“i’m serious,” he continues. “like if you somehow end up in bed with someone like her, that’s not a situation where you start doing weird stuff.”
“weird stuff?” robin repeats.
“yeah. like talking too much or trying to be clever or whatever.”
“funny you should mention talking too much.” robin leans forward slightly.
“don’t tell me.” steve points at her immediately, shaking his head.
she grins. “he narrated.”
“what…?!” steve freezes.
“the whole thing.”
“no.”
“yes.”
“like… explaining what he was doing?” steve asks.
“like a documentary.” robin replies.
“oh my god.” steve drops his head forward into his hands.
robin laughs. “apparently every five seconds he was saying things like ‘most women enjoy this’ and ‘statistically speaking this works really well.’”
“who the fuck says that?” steve looks up slowly.
“i know… those were her exact words.”
he sits back in his chair, stunned. “that guy is an idiot.”
“that was also my conclusion.” she says.
“like genuinely stupid.”
“mhm.”
“you don’t do that.” steve runs a hand through his hair.
“apparently he did.”
“no i mean- you don’t do that with someone like her.”
“with someone like her.” robin tilts her head.
steve nods firmly, now fully invested. “yeah. because the second you start acting weird like that you’re gonna ruin it.”
robin tries very hard not to laugh. “thank you, dr. harrington.”
he ignores her.
“seriously, if a guy manages to get that far with her and then starts acting like a weirdo, that’s on him.”
“you sound personally offended.” robin rests her chin on her hand, watching him.
“i kind of am.”
“why?”
“because it’s dumb.” he shrugs.
“or,” robin suggests slowly. “maybe it just means she keeps picking the wrong guys.”
“maybe.” steve considers that.
she raises an eyebrow. “yeah. you don’t sound convinced.”
“i’m not. because if you ask me, it’s probably the guys.” steve says.
“interesting. i’m noticing that you’re getting weirdly invested in this topic.” she grins.
“i’m not invested.”
“you’re defending her honor like you’re her lawyer.” robin chuckles.
“i’m not defending anything.” steve makes his point.
she gestures toward him. “you just called the guy an idiot three times.”
“because he is.”
“you don’t even know him.” robin mumbles.
“i don’t need to.” steve says.
robin laughs under her breath, then she adds casually. “she also said she’s never really had amazing chemistry with anyone.”
steve stops moving.
“really?”
“really.”
“that’s surprising.” he looks genuinely confused now.
“why?” robin sips her soda.
“because,” he says slowly. “she seems like the kind of person who would.”
“the kind?”
“you know what i mean, robin.”
“do i...?”
steve shrugs again, but there’s a small grin creeping onto his face now. “i’m just saying… maybe she hasn’t been with someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”
robin stares at him for a long moment. then she leans back in her chair, laughing. “oh my god.”
“what?” steve asks, smiling at her laughter.
“you want to fix it.”
“i did not say that.”
“you absolutely implied it, harrington!” she laughs more.
he spreads his hands defensively. “i’m just saying if someone keeps having bad experiences-”
“steve.”
“- maybe they just need better chemistry, with some who knows what they’re doing in bed!”
“and you’re volunteering to test that theory.” robin wipes a tear from her eye.
“i’m offering a public service.” steve smirks slightly.
she points at him. “you are unbelievable.”
“i’m helpful.”
“you are so obviously into her.” she rolls her eyes.
“i mean… can you blame me?” he shrugs, completely unbothered now.
robin just stares at him. “wow...”
steve grabs another chip. “what?!”
“nothing.” she shakes her head, grinning.
the café is quiet in that late afternoon way where the rush has already passed but the evening crowd hasn’t arrived yet.
sunlight spills through the big front windows, warm and soft, catching in the dust floating lazily through the air. there’s the low murmur of someone reading a newspaper near the door, the quiet clink of cups behind the counter, and the smell of coffee that’s just strong enough to make everything feel a little slower.
you’re sitting at a small table by the window with a book open in front of you.
you’ve read the same paragraph four times.
you know exactly why.
because steve just walked in.
he hasn’t noticed you yet. he’s talking to the barista, leaning casually against the counter like he’s been there a hundred times before, baseball cap pushed back slightly on his head, one hand resting on the wood while he smiles at something the guy says.
you try to look back at your book.
then you hear his voice.
“wait-” a pause. “hey.”
you look up.
steve is standing a few feet away now, coffee in one hand, eyebrows raised in mild surprise.
“i didn’t expect to see you here.” he says.
“that’s disappointing.” you close your book slowly.
he laughs under his breath.
“not disappointing,” he corrects, walking closer. “just… surprising.”
you tilt your head. “why?”
“because usually when i run into you, there are twelve kids around me with baseball bats nearby.”
“occupational hazard.” you say.
“yeah,” he says with a small grin. “i figured.”
he gestures lightly to the chair across from you. “mind if i sit?”
you hesitate for half a second, mostly because you know he’ll notice if you do, then shrug. “it’s a free country.”
“good to know.” he pulls the chair out and sits down across from you, settling comfortably like this wasn’t even a question.
for a moment, neither of you says anything.
steve takes a sip of his coffee.
then he says, casually, “so.”
oh god.
you close your eyes briefly. “if the next sentence out of your mouth includes the word robin, i’m leaving.”
“wow.” he smiles into his coffee. “you’re assuming a lot about where this conversation is going.”
you give him a flat look.
“steve.”
“okay. okay.” he admits. “fair."
“she talks too much.” you lean back slightly in your chair.
“she does.”
“and she absolutely did not have permission to tell you anything.” you sigh.
“technically she didn’t tell me everything.”
“how much is ‘not everything'?” you ask.
“enough to know that you had a… less-than-ideal experience recently.” he taps the rim of his cup thoughtfully.
you groan quietly, dropping your forehead briefly onto the table. “i cannot believe this is happening.”
“hey.” steve laughs softly.
“what?” you lift your head again.
“for the record,” he says, “i’m not laughing at you.”
“really?” you stare at him skeptically.
“really.”
“you expect me to believe that, harrington?”
“yeah.” he shrugs.
“why?”
“because the only part of that story that’s actually funny,” he says. “is how badly the guy managed to screw it up.”
“you’re very confident about that.” you blink.
steve leans back slightly in his chair.
“you told robin the guy narrated everything.”
“i regret every decision that led to this conversation.” you close your eyes again. “including talking to robin.”
“i’m serious.” he continues. “who the hell does that?”
“apparently the kind of men i keep meeting.” you chuckle sarcastically.
“yeah.” he says thoughtfully. “that’s the part i don’t really get.”
“what do you mean?” you look at him.
“i mean it doesn’t really track.” he gestures vaguely toward you.
“what doesn’t track?”
“that you’d keep running into situations like that.”
you cross your arms lightly. “that’s a very polite way of saying you think i’m exaggerating.”
“no.” he says immediately. “not exaggerating.”
“then what?”
steve hesitates for a second. then he sighs softly, like he’s deciding whether to say the next part.
“i just mean,” he says. “you don’t exactly seem like someone who would make it easy for people to be… bored.”
“that was… vague.” you blink.
“yeah.” he says with a small smile. “i’m trying to be as polite as possible.”
“don’t.” you grin.
“don’t what?” he asks, his voice dangerously low.
“be polite.”
he watches you for a moment, then he nods once. “okay.”
he leans forward slightly now, forearms resting on the table.
“you’re smart.” he says simply. “you’re funny. you’re confident in a way most people wish they were. and- again, trying not to sound like a complete idiot here- you’re also really attractive.”
you stare at him.
steve holds your gaze calmly, like he’s just stating a fact.
“so when i hear that some guy finally gets you alone,” he continues. “and his big move is turning the whole thing into something terrible…”
he shakes his head lightly. “my first thought is that the guy’s an idiot.”
“wow.” you let out a quiet laugh despite yourself. “um.”
“what?”
“you say that very confidently.” you say.
“because it’s obvious.” steve says like it’s something clear.
“you don’t even know him.”
“don’t need to.” he shrugs.
“you’re weirdly invested in this, harrington.” you rest your chin on your hand, studying him.
“i just don’t like hearing that someone had a bad experience.”
“that’s very noble of you.” you chuckle.
“thank you.” steve replies, not even bothered by how sarcastic you just were.
there’s a brief pause.
then steve adds, casually. “robin also mentioned that this apparently isn’t the first time.”
you immediately glare. “oh my- she is unbelievable! why would she tell you this?!”
“i’m just saying,” he continues lightly. “it sounds like you’ve had some pretty bad luck.”
“or bad taste.” you sigh.
“because you seem pretty good at reading people.” he tilts his head lightly.
“apparently not good enough.”
“or…” he says slowly. “maybe you just haven’t had good chemistry with the right person yet.”
“that sounds suspiciously romantic coming from you.” you raise an eyebrow.
“i’m a complex man.” he smiles faintly.
“that’s one word for it.”
he takes another sip of his coffee.
“can i ask you something?” steve asks, almost in a whisper.
“sure.” you sigh with a soft smile.
“have you actually had really good chemistry with someone before?”
you hesitate. again.
steve notices immediately. “wow.”
“stop reacting like that, harrington.” you whine slightly.
“i’m just observing.”
“you’re judging.”
“i’m analyzing.” he grins.
you roll your eyes.
“maybe i’ve just been unlucky.” you say.
“maybe.” he says.
then he leans forward just a little. “or maybe you’ve just been with guys who think they know what they’re doing but actually don’t.”
“and you would know the difference.” you glance back at him.
“i like to think so.” steve’s mouth curves slightly.
“your confidence is impressive.”
“my confidence is earned.” he mumbles.
“of course it is.” you laugh softly.
he watches you for a moment longer.
“i’m just saying… if your track record really is that bad…”
you immediately narrow your eyes.
“maybe you just need a better point of comparison.”
“did you just subtly volunteer yourself to fuck me?” you stare at him.
“i didn’t say that.” he shrugs, completely unbothered.
“you absolutely implied it.”
“i implied,” he says calmly. “that sometimes experience helps. and i’m very dedicated to hands-on teaching.”
you shake your head, laughing under your breath. “you are unbelievable.”
“maybe.” he grins.
you stand up, grabbing your book.
“in your dreams, harrington.”
he leans back in his chair, watching you with that same easy confidence. “hey.”
“what?” you pause.
his smile widens just a little, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “let me take you home.”
“why exactly should i let you take me home after this conversation?” you blink.
steve lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug, turning his coffee cup slowly between his fingers.
“it’s getting late.” he says.
you narrow your eyes slightly and hesitate.
not because you don’t want to go.
more because you know exactly what accepting the ride might imply.
steve notices the hesitation immediately.
he leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table.
“relax.” he says lightly. “it’s a ride home, not a marriage proposal.”
you study him for another moment.
then you sigh, picking up your book. “fine.”
his eyebrows lift slightly. “fine?”
“it’s a ride.” you simply say. “don’t get too excited.”
“too late.” steve grins, standing up and grabbing his keys.
his car smells faintly like leather and mint gum.
the engine hums softly as he pulls away from the curb, one hand resting casually on the steering wheel while the other taps lightly against the gear shift.
you glance out the window at the passing streetlights.
for a moment, neither of you speaks.
then steve says. “so.” he pauses for a second before continuing. “you keep telling me you have bad luck yet you keep agreeing to one night stands.”
you groan quietly and glance at him.
“it’s a genuine question.” he says. “i’m curious.”
“maybe because i keep thinking the next person won’t be weird about it.” you shake your head.
“reasonable theory.” steve hums thoughtfully.
“thank you.”
“unfortunately your sample size seems to suggest otherwise.” he mumbles.
you laugh under your breath.
“you’re very analytical about my sex life for someone who just met me in a coffee shop.”
“i didn’t just meet you.” he points out. “we’ve known each other for years.”
“you haven’t known me in years, steve. you used to see me around high school.”
“still counts.”
you watch the road ahead for a moment.
“robin told you too much.”
“robin told me just enough to make me curious.” he says.
“that’s worse.”
he glances at you briefly, a small smile pulling at his mouth.
“well,” he says. “i still think those guys were idiots.”
“you keep saying that.” you say.
“because it’s true.”
“or maybe i’m the problem.” you sigh for what feels like the millionth time today.
“i doubt that.” steve admits.
“why?”
he slows slightly at a stop sign, glancing toward you again. “because you’re like super hot.”
you look at him, cheeks heating up.
“you flirt like a teacher.” you roll your eyes but you’re smiling a little.
“what does that mean?” steve laughs.
“confident but slightly annoying.”
he laughs quietly. “i’ll take it.”
the rest of the drive is quieter, but not awkward.
there’s something easy about the silence, like the conversation hasn’t ended, just paused.
eventually he turns onto your street.
it’s one of those quiet residential roads where the houses sit back from the sidewalk and the streetlights are spaced too far apart.
barely anyone is out.
he slows the car.
“which one?” he asks.
“third on the right.” you point toward the end of the block.
he nods.
but instead of pulling all the way to the driveway, he stops a few houses short, easing the car into a quiet spot along the curb.
the engine goes still.
for a moment, neither of you moves.
you glance at him. “you… missed the house.”
“did i?” he scratches his neck, pretending he doesn’t know it already.
“harrington.”
he turns slightly in his seat, resting his arm along the back of your headrest now.
“can i ask you one more thing?” he asks.
“how many questions do you have?” you narrow your eyes.
his gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your eyes.
“are you always this suspicious?” he asks softly. “or just with me.”
fuck.
“i’m cautious.” you cross your arms.
“same thing.” he mumbles.
“not really.”
there’s a small pause.
the air inside the car suddenly feels warmer.
steve studies you for a second longer.
“i’ve been trying very hard not to do something stupid for the last five minutes.”
“what?” you blink.
“this.” his mouth tilts slightly.
and then he closes the space.
the kiss isn’t hesitant.
it’s immediate. his hand sliding up to your jaw as he pulls you toward him, mouth warm and firm against yours like he’s been thinking about it the entire drive. which he has.
you make a soft surprised sound against his lips, but it melts into the kiss almost instantly.
steve deepens it without rushing, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek as he tilts his head to catch your mouth better.
he knows exactly what he’s doing and he’s taking his time with it.
your hand instinctively grips the front of his shirt.
he notices.
his other arm slides around your waist and then, smoothly, he pulls you closer, guiding you across the center console until you’re half turned toward him, perched against his lap.
the movement is easy, natural.
he doesn’t even break the kiss while doing it.
instead he pulls you closer with one hand at your waist, the other still warm against your jaw as he kisses you again slower this time, but deeper.
like he’s trying to make you feel it.
when you pull back for a breath, his breathing is heavy and his eyes dark.
“still think those guys knew what they were doing?” he whispers close to your mouth almost making you melt under his touch.
“harrington.” you laugh quietly, a little breathless.
“yeah?” he asks.
“you’re very smug right now.”
“i’m not smug.” he defended.
“you absolutely are.”
he glances over his shoulder toward the empty street behind the car.
when he looks back at you, there’s that spark in his eyes again. the same one from earlier in the café.
playful and bold.
“come to the backseat with me.” he whispers.
“you do realize my house is literally right there?”
“yeah.” he glances toward it briefly.
“so why exactly are you suggesting the backseat of your car?”
“because walking you to your door feels like it would end the night too quickly, plus, i don’t need a bed to make you feel better than they did.” he shrugs lightly.
you laugh quietly. “that was suspiciously charming.”
“i contain multitudes.”
you shake your head, but there’s no real resistance in your expression anymore.
steve notices that immediately.
his voice softens a little.
“hey.” he says quietly.
you look at him.
“if you’re not into the idea, we don’t have to. i’m not trying to rush anything.”
the way he says it is steady. not pushy, not joking.
god.
you watch him for a second longer.
then you sigh softly. “you’re very convincing, harrington.”
“is that a yes?” his eyebrows lift slightly.
“don’t make it weird.” you open your door.
“too late.” his grin appears instantly.
you step out onto the quiet street, the cool, now night air brushing your skin. the neighborhood is still porch lights glowing faintly, trees rustling softly somewhere down the block.
by the time you reach the back door of his car, steve is already there.
he opened his door and walked around without you even noticing.
“show-off.” you mutter.
“i try.”
he opens the back door, gesturing dramatically. “after you.”
you roll your eyes but climb in anyway, settling against the seat.
steve follows right after, pulling the door shut behind him.
your knees brush his almost immediately when he shifts toward you.
“still want me to stop?” he asks quietly.
you shake your head. “no.”
that’s all the confirmation he needs.
his hand slides back to your waist as he leans in again, pulling you gently toward him.
he easily pulls you onto his lap, strong arms wrapping around your waist to settle you against his chest. one hand slides up your back to tangle in your hair, gently tugging your head back to expose the column of your throat.
he growls softly, his lips brushing your pulse point.
his lips and teeth working over your neck, hands roam your curves possessively, one slipping under your shirt to caress the warm skin of your back while the other grips your hip, pulling you flush against steve.
“steve.” you pant.
“say that again f’me.” he grins at you actually saying his name since you always called him harrington.
“steve.” his name leaves your mouth again.
“fuck, baby.” steve groans and kisses you.
his lips move against yours with a hunger bordering on desperation. one hand tangles in your hair, gripping tight enough to sting deliciously as he angles your head to deepen the kiss.
his other hand roams your curves greedily, mapping out the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips, the soft swell of your breasts.
steve breaks the kiss to trail his lips along your jaw, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.
“let me treat you good, yeah?” he whispers against your mouth as his hips buck up involuntarily, grinding you down against the growing hardness in his jeans.
you moan softly and arch into him, craving more of his touch but at the same time overwhelmed with so many informations at the same time. you’re in steve’s car, on his lap, making out with him… jesus.
satisfied by your responsive moans, he redoubles his efforts, kissing and licking a burning path down your neck. you could say he’s already proud of his work on you so far, but he’s not gonna get too cocky. at least not yet.
steve sucks particularly hard at the juncture of your throat, determined to leave his mark on your flawless skin.
“that's it, baby. have barely touched you yet.” he growls approvingly when you arch into him. “let me hear those pretty sounds.”
well, hearing steve praise you is definitely better than hearing someone narrating their next move while fucking you.
large hands skim up your sides to cup your breasts, kneading your boobs through your shirt. steve's thumbs find your nipples, circling the hardening peaks until they strain against the fabric of your top.
“wanna make you feel so good.” steve whispers.
he sits back just enough to yank your top off, exposing your perfect tits. steve ducked his head to capture your nipple, sucking as his hand slides under your skirt to grab your ass.
steve smirks against your boob when he hears your soft moans.
“let me hear those pretty moans.” his voice husky with a certain intensity.
the way his voice echoes in the air is driving you crazy.
he lays you down on the leather seat, hovering over your body. steve kisses a trail down your stomach, fingers hooking in your skirt and panties at the same time. he slowly drags them down your legs.
steve’s eyes follow your panties but stop at the sight of your bare cunt as soon as he notices it.
“steve, please.” your voice comes out raspy.
“patience, baby. i know.” steve whispers, a grin playing on his lips.
he lowers his head, trailing feather-light kisses along your stomach and inner thighs, tanking his time mapping out each curve with touches and open-mouthed kisses.
“god, you’re so beautiful. makin’ me so fucking hard.” his hot breath ghosting over your inner thighs driving you crazy.
steve’s mouth moves closer to your cunt, his nose running along your slit, inhaling your scent. then, he drags the flat of his tongue softly up your folds in a slow lick, barely grazing your clit.
he peppered light licks along your outer lips, teasing you, occasionally dipping just the tip of his tongue inside to taste you before pulling back. steve’s hands grip your thighs, keeping you spread wide open.
soft moans leave your mouth at the feeling of steve’s tongue on you. he lets out soft praises, his voice sending vibrations through your cunt.
steve seals his lips around your clit and suckles gently, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. he alternated between bold strokes and targeted flicks, watching your reactions to find what made you moan louder.
“steve ohh-st-t-ohh-mmhmphh.” you manage to get his name out, pleasure flowing through your body.
you reach down to grab steve’s hair, fingers running through the thickness of it.
feeling your thighs tremble and hearing your increasingly desperate whimpers is making steve harder than ever.
steve thrusts two fingers knuckle-deep into your tight hole. he pumped them in and out, curling to stroke that special spot inside you as he flicks and circles your clit with the tip of his tongue.
“mmm c’mon, baby.” steve rumbled against your flesh, the vibrations adding to your pleasure. he can feel you reaching the edge.
he curls his fingers inside you relentlessly just right before he pulls away abruptly. steve sits back a smug grin on his face as he watches you squirm with denied release.
“not gonna let you do that already.” steve smirks, big fingers slowly pulling out of you, leaving you feeling empty again.
“steve- why’d you do that?!” you pant, frustrated.
leaning in close, stev nipped at your earlobe before murmuring. “because i want to feel you squeezing me when you cum.”
jesus, he can make you melt just by talking.
steve’s hands quickly work their way to his belt and zipper, freeing his cock.
he was so thick and so big.
“fuck.” you think out loud.
steve’s hips buck involuntarily as your hand wrap around his cock. his control was slipping away, hands mapping the curves of your body.
a loud moan tore from steve’s throat as you pumped his shaft but when you aligned him with your entrance, the swollen head of his cock nudging at your folds, he lost the last piece of his restraint.
“need to be inside you.” he rasped, voice strained with the effort of holding back. '"m so hard, baby. gonna stretch you open f'me, yeah?"
"mhm." you nod, gripping his biceps.
you moan at the feeling of him slowly entering you. your tight walls swallowing him.
then, with a slow but steady thrust of his hips, steve’s cock found its way to the hilt of your pussy.
“shit, so fucking tight f'me, angel. jesus." steve groans, setting a hard, deep pace, angling to hit your cervix with each snap of his hips.
"steeeeve, fuck." you moan loudly, grabbing onto his back, your nails scratching, leaving marks.
"yes, baby. this pussy was made f’me. oooh fu-uuck." steve manages to keep talking somehow, looking absolutely wrecked and pussy-drunk.
he continues his relentless pace, each thrust driving his thick length deep into your pussy. the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills his car, windows already fogging.
your explicit loud moans are music to steve’s ears.
“can make you feel so much better than they did, baby.” steve whispers through gritted teeth, punctuating his words with harsh snaps of his hips, the head of his cock hitting your cervix with each thrust.
“yes yes yes, fuck, steve.” you moan each word with each thrust.
steve's hand snakes between your bodies to rub tight circles over your pulsing clit, to push you closer to the edge.
"shit shit shit." you cry along with each thrust of his hips again.
leaning down, he captures your lips in a messy kiss again, swallowing your cries and moans.
“turn around, baby. turn around.” steve asks lazily, painfully pulling his cock out of you.
you whine at the loss of his dick and turn around anyways, getting on all fours on his backseat.
“my perfect little cockdrunk girl.” steve groans, giving your ass a sharp slap.
"please, steve. please." you beg him, pussy clenching around nothing.
“please what, angel?”
“your cock.” is the only thing you’re able to say.
his mouth twitches into a slight smirk when you say that.
one large hand gripping your hip bruisingly tight while the other tangles in your hair, yanking your head slightly back.
in one swift motion, you align his red tip at your entrance, making a soft wet sound when in contact.
"ah- fuck." steve moans at the feeling.
without even thinking straight, steve roams his hips into yours, stretching you fully. a loud moan leaves your mouth.
“takin’ me so well. shit.”
"yes, steve." you moan as he starts moving again and sets a taster pace, holding your hips in place.
the obscene slap of flesh against flesh echoes through his car again, driving him crazy. you can feel his balls hitting your clit whenever he thrusts into you.
“fuck, i’m close.” he groans, slowing his movements to a torturous grind, changing the angle of his thrusts, making sure to hit that spot deep inside you with every roll of his hips.
steve continues his moves, alternating between deep, grinding thrusts and shallow teases, keeping you on the edge of pleasure. one hand snakes down your spine to grip you ass hard.
your loud moans and the way you push your ass back against him bring him closer, his thrusts growing harder, faster, more desperate.
“s-steve.” you whisper.
“yeah, baby?” he grins.
“c-cumming.”
“gonna cum inside you. fuck, let go, baby.” he purrs, feeling your walls close around him.
the feeling of your pussy tightening around him pushes steve over the edge. with a loud groan, he hilts himself inside you one last time, thick ropes of hot cum painting your insides white as he cums.
"oh, uh fuck baby!" steve moans into your open moaning mouth.
he groans softly as he feels your walls clench, milking him out, cumming around him. steve grinds against you.
he collapses against your back, peppering your neck and shoulders with biting kisses as the aftershocks roll through him.
"jesus." steve pants, his arms and legs feeling tired and sore, but already missing the feeling of thrusting into you so much that if you asked him to do it again, he would do it without thinking twice.
now the car is quiet again. not the same quiet as before.
the windows are slightly fogged, the air thick with that lingering heat that hasn’t quite settled yet. somewhere outside, a distant car passes, headlights briefly washing across the interior before fading again.
steve moves to the small space on the seat to lay down next to you, his cock leaving your hole.
you two are closer than ever, his thumb drifts along your side, slow and almost lazy.
“so…” steve murmurs, still out of breath.
you let out a quiet breath that’s almost a laugh. “so.”
he shifts slightly, just enough to look down at you better, his chin tilting toward you.
there’s that look again.
the one that’s way too self-aware.
“whatever you’re about to say, don’t.” you narrow your eyes immediately.
“wow.” he huffs a soft laugh. “i haven’t even said anything yet.”
“you’re about to.”
he studies you for a second, clearly entertained.
you shift slightly, propping yourself up just enough to look at him properly too. “you’re being smug.”
“i’m not being smug.” steve says.
“you are absolutely being smug.”
he shakes his head, but there’s a grin pulling at his mouth now.
“i’m just… evaluating.”
“evaluating?” you blink.
“yeah.”
“this is not a performance review.” you whisper.
“could be.”
“you are unbelievable, harrington!” you push lightly at his shoulder.
he catches your hand without thinking, fingers wrapping around yours easily.
“relax.” he says, softer now.
“you relax.”
“i am relaxed.” steve says.
“you’re not relaxed, you’re pleased.” you try to hide the smirk that’s trying to show on your face.
he exhales a quiet laugh.
“okay,” he admits. “maybe i’m a little pleased.”
“a little?” you ask.
“a reasonable amount.”
you roll your eyes, but you don’t pull your hand away. his thumb brushes slowly over your knuckles.
“can i ask you something?” he says.
“why does that never sound harmless when you say it.” you groan quietly.
“because you assume the worst.”
“experience has taught me.” you smile.
he smiles faintly. “fair.”
“fine. ask.” you sigh.
he pauses for a second. not long, just enough to make it feel intentional.
“was it good?” he asks, casually.
you freeze.
then slowly turn your head to look at him.
“you did not just ask me that.”
“what?” he shrugs lightly. “i’m asking a simple question.”
“that is not a simple question.” you say.
“it is.”
“it’s not.”
he watches you, clearly enjoying this.
“so that’s a no.” he says thoughtfully.
you immediately sit up straighter. “that is not what i said.”
“kinda sounds like what you said.”
“i didn’t say anything.”
“exactly.” his mouth twisted.
“you are so annoying.” you stare at him, trying to hide a smile.
he grins. “you’re avoiding the question.”
“i am not avoiding-”
“you are.”
“steve.”
he leans in slightly, voice lowering just a bit.
“c’mon,” he murmurs. “i’m just curious.”
you let out a breath, shaking your head.
“you already know the answer...”
“do i?” his eyebrows lift.
“yes.”
“i don’t know,” he says, clearly not buying it. “you haven’t confirmed it.”
you stare at him for a second longer. then you huff out a quiet laugh, looking away briefly.
“you’re unbelievable.”
“still not an answer.”
“you are not getting a formal review.” you let out a honest laugh.
“i don’t need formal,” he says lightly. “i’ll take honest.”
“you’re really going to keep pushing this?” you glance back at him.
“absolutely.”
you shake your head again, but there’s a smile tugging at your mouth now.
“fine.”
he waits.
you hesitate just long enough to make him lean in a fraction more.
“it was good.”
his mouth curves immediately.
“good?” he repeats.
he tilts his head, studying you. “just good.”
“steve.” you narrow your eyes.
“what?!”
“don’t push it.”
he leans in a little closer now, voice dropping just enough to feel it. “that didn’t sound like just good.”
“you’re impossible.” your breath catches slightly.
“and yet,” he murmurs, eyes flicking to your mouth, “my cum’s dripping down your thighs.”
you don’t answer that.
mostly because you can feel the shift again, the way the space between you tightens without either of you really moving.
his hand slides back to your waist, firmer now.
“say it again.” he murmurs.
you blink. “say what?”
“say it again.” he repeats, softer.
“you’re insane.” you stare at him.
“maybe.”
“i’m not repeating myself.”
“no?” steve pouts slightly.
“no.” you shake your head.
there’s a beat.
then his mouth tilts slightly. “okay.”
and before you can ask what that means he pulls you back into him.
the kiss is immediate.
stronger than before, less teasing, like he decided he’s done asking and he’d rather show you instead.
his hand tightens at your waist, pulling you closer as his other comes up to your jaw, tilting your face just right.
you make a soft sound against his mouth, and he reacts to it instantly, deepening the kiss, slower but more deliberate, like he’s paying attention to every little response.
when he finally pulls back, it’s only just enough to speak, his forehead brushing yours.
his mouth curves slightly. “that didn’t feel like just good.”
“yeah, maybe it was a little bit more than just good.” you let out a quiet, breathless laugh.
his thumb brushes your side again, slower now.
“don’t worry,” he murmurs softly. “i’ll keep proving it.”
note: aaaaaah i can’t believe i’m back 🫶🏻 i missed writing so much !!
summary: your ex boyfriend is your parent’s favorite boy ever and he uses this as an excuse to be around you all the time.
warnings: steve being a pain in the ass, kissing, just a fluff, not proofread.
note: this is a request sent by an anonymous person, tysm love, hope this reaches you !! ♡
don’t repost or translate my work.
the thing about breaking up with steve was that it didn’t actually make him go away.
you’d assumed it would.
that was the whole point, really.
you thought if you ended things cleanly, no screaming, no slammed doors, just quiet words in a parking lot under a flickering streetlamp, he’d eventually drift out of your life like every other high school relationship people swore didn’t last anyway.
except steve wasn’t drifting anywhere because, apparently, your parents were still completely obsessed with him. you couldn´t blame them...
you knew the moment you walked into the house after work that something was wrong.
your dad was laughing.
not his normal laugh. the big one. the one he only did when he was watching football or when steve harrington was sitting at the kitchen table like he belonged there.
you stopped in the doorway.
and there he was.
steve sat at the table with a screwdriver in his hand, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, your dad standing next to him holding the loose hinge from the cabinet door.
your mom was hovering near the stove.
everyone looked very comfortable. too comfortable.
steve noticed you first.
his head lifted and his eyes landed on you instantly, the way they always used to when you walked into a room, like some invisible string had pulled his attention straight toward you and then he smiled.
that stupid soft smile that used to make you forget what you were mad about.
“hey.” he said.
you stared at him.
“why are you in my house?”
“he’s fixing the cabinet hinge.” your dad answered before steve could.
steve lifted the screwdriver slightly like proof. “your dad said the door’s been crooked for two weeks.”
you dropped your bag on the chair.
“so you called my ex-boyfriend?”
“he called me.” steve corrected lightly.
your mom turned around from the stove and pointed a wooden spoon at you.
“don’t start. steve was being very helpful.”
steve’s mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh.
you narrowed your eyes at him.
he had the decency to look a little guilty but not guilty enough to leave.
that became the problem because he kept showing up. sometimes it was because your dad “needed help” fixing something, lie, he just wanted to spend time with steve. sometimes your mom invited him to dinner.
once he showed up with a grocery bag because he said the store had a sale on the cereal your dad liked.
your parents adored him.
and steve… steve was annoyingly good at acting like nothing had changed. like the two of you hadn’t broken up. like he wasn’t still
it drove you absolutely insane because the worst part was how natural it all felt.
you’d come downstairs in the morning and he’d already be there drinking coffee with your dad, hair messy, wearing that faded sweatshirt he’d had since senior year.
and he’d look up and grin at you like this was completely normal. “morning.”
like he hadn’t kissed you in this house a hundred times.
you tried ignoring him.
that lasted about three days because steve was terrible at being ignored.
one evening you were standing in the kitchen pouring yourself a glass of orange juice when he wandered in behind you.
no parents.
just you and steve.
he leaned his hip against the counter like he’d always done, arms crossed loosely.
“you’ve been avoiding me.”
you didn’t look at him. “i live here.”
“yeah,” he said. “and yet somehow i only see the back of your head.”
you set the carton down harder than necessary. “what do you want, steve?”
there was a pause.
long enough that you finally looked at him.
he looked nervous, which was weird.
steve was many things, dramatic, stubborn, occasionally dumb, but nervous wasn’t usually one of them.
he rubbed the back of his neck. “i just think it’s weird.”
“what’s weird?" you ask.
“that we broke up and suddenly you act like i’m radioactive.”
you scoffed. “we’re not friends, steve.”
“we were before we dated.”
“yeah, and then we dated.” you sigh.
“so?”
you stared at him. “so you don’t get to just… keep hanging around like nothing happened.”
his eyes softened a little. “something did happen.”
“exactly.” you murmur.
“you broke up with me.” he whispers.
you flinched slightly. steve noticed immediately. he always noticed when something hurt you.
he pushed away from the counter slowly.
now he was standing closer. so close you could smell his cologne. the same one he’d worn since senior year. it made your chest ache in an annoying, familiar way.
“you said you needed space.” he said quietly.
“i did.”
“so i gave it to you.”
“i know-”
“i didn’t call,” he continued. “i didn’t show up at your job. i didn’t beg or make a scene or any of that stuff guys in movies do.”
you opened your mouth, but he kept going.
“but your parents still like me.” he said with a small shrug. “what am i supposed to do, tell them no when they invite me over?”
“yes.”
he huffed a quiet laugh. “your mom made pot roast last week and literally told me to take leftovers home.”
you rubbed your forehead. “that’s not the point.”
steve watched you for a moment and then he said softly, “you don’t actually want me gone.”
“excuse me?” your head snapped up.
“you keep saying you do,” he said. “but every time i come over you still look at me like-”
“like what?”
he hesitated, and then he said it anyway.
“like you’re trying really hard not to remember you still love me.”
your stomach flipped hard enough that you hated him a little for noticing.
“you’re unbelievably full of yourself.”
“maybe.” he said but he didn’t sound convinced.
he was even closer now, close enough that if you leaned forward even a little your shoulder would touch his chest.
you hated that your body remembered him so easily. how tall he was. how warm he always felt. how his presence filled a room.
“why do you keep coming here, steve?” you asked quietly.
steve didn’t answer right away. he looked down at the floor, nudging the tile with his sneaker, then he looked back at you.
and there it was.
that soft, open expression he only ever showed you.
“because,” he said, voice low. “your house still feels like home and i can see how you´re doing, if you´re okay...”
your throat tightened.
you looked away first and steve stepped closer.
his hand came up like he was going to touch your arm but stopped halfway, hovering like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed anymore.
that hesitation hurt more than if he’d just done it.
“i- you-” you hesitate.
he swallowed, big brown eyes staring right into you. “yeah?”
“you can’t keep doing this.”
“doing what?” he asks.
“being here.”
he studied your face carefully.
“you’re the one who told me i wasn’t allowed in your room anymore.” he shrugged slightly. “you never said anything about the kitchen.”
you shoved his shoulder. “you’re impossible...”
he laughed and for a second it felt exactly like it used to.
then your mom’s voice called from the living room. “steve, honey, are you staying for dinner?”
steve glanced toward the hallway, then back at you, one eyebrow lifted slightly like he was asking permission.
you stared at him.
he smiled just a little.
“your call, baby.” he murmured.
your heart was beating way too fast for someone who had supposedly moved on from their ex-boyfriend.
your mother didn’t even try to hide how pleased she was when you walked into the dining room with steve a few minutes later.
she looked from you to him, eyebrows lifting just slightly in that knowing way that made your skin crawl.
“good,” she said, placing a bowl of mashed potatoes in the middle of the table. “i was hoping you’d stay, steve.”
steve, who had somehow already ended up with his hand on the back of your chair, smiled easily.
“i mean, it’d be pretty hard to say no to your cooking.”
your dad laughed from the head of the table. “smart man.”
you shot steve a warning look before sitting down.
he just grinned like he hadn’t noticed or like he had and was enjoying it.
the chair beside you scraped softly as he sat. too close.
not technically inappropriate. there were only four chairs at the table but still close enough that when he shifted, his knee brushed yours under the table.
you immediately moved your leg.
steve noticed.
he glanced sideways at you, mouth twitching slightly before he reached for the basket of bread.
“so,” your mom said brightly, settling into her chair, “how’s work been, steve?”
“same as always.” he said, tearing off a piece of bread. “the team is getting better. i think..."
you laugh.
steve’s eyes flicked to you instantly.
there was something annoyingly pleased about the way he looked at you, like he’d just scored a small victory.
“glad you think that’s funny.” steve muttered, reaching for the potatoes.
your dad kept talking, oblivious.
“didn´t you go to one of his games just a few weeks ago, honey?" your dad asks.
“um, yeah...” you admit slowly. "marie had to drive her brother there so we stayed."
steve leaned slightly toward you.
just enough that you could hear him over the conversation.
“you were watching my game?” he said quietly.
you stabbed a green bean.
“i was...”
“and you didn´t talk to me there?”
“i had nothing to say, steve.”
“you absolutely did.”
you finally turned your head to glare at him.
“stop, steve.”
steve raised his eyebrows. “didn´t even congratulate me on the win...”
"you lost that day, steve." you roll your eyes.
steve blinked once.
then he leaned back in his chair, slow and dramatic, one hand pressing to his chest like you’d personally wounded him.
“wow,” he said. “okay. first of all, that was unnecessary.”
you gave him a flat look.
your dad frowned slightly. “you lost that game?”
steve pointed his fork at you without looking away.
“technically? yes.” he said. “emotionally? i was doing great until about ten seconds ago.”
your mom tried to hide a smile behind her glass.
you scoffed and went back to pushing food around your plate.
steve didn’t, he was still looking at you.
you could feel it. that steady, familiar stare that used to make you forget whatever you’d been trying to say.
“so,” he said after a moment, voice thoughtful. “you were there the whole time?”
you didn’t answer.
your dad did.
“she came home talking about the game.” he said casually.
you choked on your drink. “dad.”
steve’s head snapped toward him. “she did?”
your dad nodded, cutting into his steak like this was normal dinner conversation. “said it was loud. that the other team kept fouling.”
you closed your eyes briefly. great. steve was smiling now.
you didn’t even have to look to know it.
“huh.” he said slowly. “that’s funny.”
you sighed. “what?”
“because i don’t remember seeing you.”
“i was in the stands.”
“yeah.” he said. “i checked the stands.”
“what...?” you froze, your fork hovered mid-air.
he shrugged, very casually. “habit.”
your mom glanced between you two. “steve always looks for you at his games.”
your heart skipped in a very inconvenient way.
you turned toward him slowly. “you… checked?”
steve seemed to realize he’d said something revealing.
he cleared his throat and focused on cutting his food.
“i mean. not like… obsessively or anything.”
you raised an eyebrow.
he kept going. “just, you know. out of curiosity.”
“curiosity.” you repeated flatly.
“don’t make it weird.” he stabbed a piece of potato.
“you’re the one who was apparently scanning the bleachers.”
“i glance up sometimes.” he says.
“you said you checked.”
he finally looked at you again. that little teasing smirk that meant he’d decided to double down instead of backtracking.
“well,” he said lightly, “i used to have a pretty good reason to.”
you hated how warm your face suddenly felt.
your dad, completely unaware of the tension, leaned back in his chair. “you were a hell of a player in high school, steve.”
“yeah, well. that was high school.” steve laughed under his breath.
“still got the moves.” your dad said.
steve tilted his head slightly toward you. “apparently not impressive enough for some people.”
you rolled your eyes.
under the table, his knee nudged yours again.
you shot him a look. he didn’t move it. instead he reached across the table for the salt.
“pass the pepper?” he asked casually.
you slid it toward him.
your fingers brushed briefly when he took it, steve didn’t pull his hand away right away. neither did you.
your mom noticed immediately.
you could tell by the way her eyes lit up.
“you know,” she said thoughtfully, “steve used to come over after every one of his basketball games.”
you groaned.
“mom, i know... i was here. no need to mention.”
“what?” she said innocently. “it’s true.”
your dad chuckled.
“covered in sweat and complaining about that boy, billy.”
steve laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “okay.”
your mom continued like she’d been waiting for this moment.
“and you would sit right there,” she pointed to steve’s chair, “and eat half the food in the fridge.”
steve nodded solemnly. “i was a growing athlete.”
“you were a terrible at basketball, steve.” you corrected.
he grinned.
then he glanced sideways at you again.
“well, someone used to bring me ice packs.”
your stomach flipped.
you stared down at your plate. “i was being nice.”
“you were worried about me.” he says.
“i was worried you’d bleed on the carpet.”
steve laughed softly. “sure.”
“you two were always attached at the hip.” your dad took a sip of his drink.
there was a small pause at the table.
steve’s smile faded just slightly.
he glanced at you.
you kept your eyes on your plate.
then he nudged your foot gently under the table.
not teasing this time, just a soft little bump to get your attention.
you looked at him.
“hey.” his voice was quieter when he spoke.
you frowned. “what?”
he nodded toward your plate. “you still haven’t eaten.”
“why are you monitoring my dinner?” you blinked.
“because you’ve moved the same green bean around like six times.” he shrugged one shoulder.
you stared at him.
your mom laughed softly. “he’s right.”
you looked between them, betrayed.
steve slid the bread basket a little closer to you.
“eat.” he said, voice gentle but teasing at the edges. “or your mom’s gonna think i stressed you out.”
“you do stress me out.”
“yeah, but not about dinner.” he smiles.
you tore off a piece of bread just to prove a point.
steve watched you take a bite.
then he leaned back in his chair, satisfied.
you glared at him while chewing. “don’t look so proud of yourself.”
he lifted his hands in mock surrender, but the smile stayed.
“hey, i’m just making sure you survive dinner.”
“i was surviving just fine before you started monitoring my vegetables.”
your dad shook his head with a quiet laugh, cutting into another piece of meat. “you two pick at each other like this everywhere or just in my house?”
“oh, everywhere. she loves me.” steve answered immediately.
you kicked his shin under the table.
he winced.
“wow,” he muttered. “violent tonight.”
“you deserve it.”
your mom was watching the whole thing with a suspiciously delighted expression.
after a moment she set her napkin down and looked straight at you.
“why don’t you two go upstairs for a bit after dinner?”
you blinked. “what...?”
she waved her hand casually. “you haven’t caught up in months.”
steve coughed into his drink.
your dad raised an eyebrow but didn’t look particularly bothered.
“yeah,” he said. “go talk.”
you stared at both of them like they’d lost their minds.
steve leaned closer to you slightly. “your parents are very confident in me.” he murmured.
“don’t flatter yourself.” you shot him a look but your face was warm again.
dinner wrapped up not long after that, and before you could even think of an excuse, your mom was already waving the two of you toward the hallway.
“go on!” she said. “i’ll handle the dishes.”
you looked back once. she was smiling too knowingly.
steve noticed.
“she definitely thinks something’s happening.” he whispered as you walked toward the stairs.
“nothing is happening.” you muttered.
he didn’t answer which somehow made it worse.
you reached your bedroom door first.
for a second you hesitated with your hand on the knob.
steve was right behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him at your back.
“you gonna make me wait out here?” he asked softly.
you rolled your eyes and pushed the door open. “don’t get used to this.”
steve stepped inside like he’d been there yesterday instead of months ago.
his gaze moved slowly around the room, the same posters, same desk, same bed tucked under the window.
“wow.” he let out a quiet breath.
you leaned against the door. “what?”
“nothing. it just… looks exactly the same.” he shook his head, smiling faintly.
“it’s my room, steve. i didn’t redecorate because we broke up.”
“yeah, i know.”
he walked a little farther in, running his fingers along the edge of your desk absentmindedly.
then he looked back at you. “feels weird, though.”
“why?”
“last time i was in here,” he said slowly, “you were yelling at me.”
“i wasn’t yelling.” you winced slightly.
he raised an eyebrow. “you definitely were.”
“you were being annoying.” you crossed your arms.
“i usually am.”
you huffed out a breath.
for a moment neither of you spoke.
the quiet felt different up here.
closer.
more dangerous.
steve leaned back against your dresser, watching you carefully.
“you didn’t talk to me at the game.” he said.
“we’re still on that?” you groaned softly.
“yeah.” he said simply. “kinda.”
you looked at the floor. “i didn’t think you’d want me to.”
“why wouldn’t i?” he asks.
“because,” you said slowly, “i’m the one who broke up with you.”
steve studied your face for a long moment then he pushed away from the dresser.
one step closer.
“that doesn’t mean i stopped wanting to see you.”
your chest tightened.
“steve-”
“you think this has been easy?” he asked quietly.
another step.
now he was right in front of you.
you could feel your heartbeat climbing.
“seeing you around town and pretending it doesn’t mess with my head?”
“you’re the one who keeps coming over.” you swallowed.
“yeah...” he said softly.
his hand lifted slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face.
the touch was gentle like he wasn’t sure he was allowed anymore.
“because staying away was worse.” he finishes.
your breath caught.
his thumb lingered briefly near your temple.
then slid down lightly along your cheek.
“i miss you.” he murmured.
“steve…” your eyes dropped to the floor.
“no,” he said softly. “look at me.”
you did and the look in his eyes made your stomach flip.
he’d been holding something in for months.
“you still came to my game.” he said quietly.
“i told you-”
“and you sat there the whole time.”
his hand slid down to your wrist.
not gripping, just holding it loosely.
“that means something.” he whispers.
“not necessarily.”
another small step closer.
now there was barely any space between you.
“it does.” steve says.
your heart was beating so loud you were sure he could hear it.
“i miss you so much.” he said again, softer this time.
his thumb brushed slowly over your wrist.
“i miss this.” he continued. “talking to you. you glaring at me every five minutes. being in here with you.”
despite yourself, your lips twitched.
he noticed immediately. “there it is.”
“don’t.” you sigh.
“that little smile you try to hide.”
you pushed lightly at his chest. “you’re insufferable, steve.”
he didn’t move back. instead his hand came up to catch yours.
your breath hitched.
for a moment the room was very quiet.
then steve leaned in, slow enough that you could’ve stopped him.
but you didn’t.
his lips met yours, firm, and the second it happened something in your chest unraveled.
the kiss deepened quickly.
months of tension snapping tight all at once.
his hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers curling gently in your hair as he pulled you closer.
you grabbed the front of his shirt without thinking.
steve made a quiet sound against your mouth.
“god.” he murmured between kisses, voice rough. “i missed this.”
his forehead rested briefly against yours.
your breathing was uneven.
so was his.
his thumb brushed lightly along your jaw.
“you have no idea how hard it’s been not doing that.”
you tried to steady yourself. “steve…”
but he kissed you again before you could finish.
softer this time.
slower.
like he was savoring it.
his voice was low when he spoke again.
“tell me to stop if you want me to.”
you didn’t.
instead your fingers travelled to his chest.
and steve smiled faintly against your lips like that answer was exactly what he’d been hoping for.
note: this was supposed to be a smut but it felt better to end it like this, BUT i’ll be posting a smut soon 😭
summary: steve takes care of the house and your daughter, and somehow makes you fall for him all over again.
warnings: reader is breastfeeding, steve being domestic woof woof, fluff, him reassuring you, not proofread.
note: i accidentally posted this one without it even being edited correctly and im pretty sure someone saw it and anonymously sent me a message ooops 😭😭😭
don’t repost or translate my work.
the first thing you hear is the noise.
not chaos, just movement.
drawers opening. cabinet doors closing. the soft clink of dishes. a quiet hum of something that sounds suspiciously like a lullaby, except it's slightly off-key.
you're still half asleep when you frown into your pillow.
"steve?"
no answer. instead, you hear:
"hey, hey, easy there, sweetheart. no, no grabbing, that's daddy's shirt. yeah, i know, everything is interesting to your baby brain but we're trying to make breakfast here."
your eyes open instantly.
you push yourself up, blinking the sleep out of your eyes, and shuffle toward the bedroom door.
the moment you step into the hallway, you freeze.
steve is in the kitchen, barefoot, hair a complete mess, wearing grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt that's already got a faint milk stain on the shoulder.
and on his hip? your daughter tucked perfectly against him like she belongs there.
"alright, baby..." he's saying, shifting her slightly as he flips something in the pan one-handed, "rule number one, we don't cry before coffee. it's illegal. mommy made that rule."
you lean against the doorway, arms crossing loosely as you watch. "i absolutely did not."
"jesus- when did you wake up, baby?" he startles a little.
"just now." you mumble, but your eyes are locked on him, on the way he balances her so easily, on the way her tiny hand is fisted into his shirt, on the way he doesn't even seem to notice how ridiculously good he looks like this.
your daughter lets out a soft babble, like she's agreeing with him.
"see?" steve grins, bouncing her gently. "she's on my side."
"hi, baby." you smile to the tiny baby. "she doesn't even know what you're saying."
"that's rude. she absolutely does." he looks down at her, softening instantly. "don't you, huh? you're just pretending so you can get away with stuff."
she squeaks.
you actually feel your knees go a little weak.
this is unfair, completely unfair.
"steve."
"yeah?" he glances back at you, distracted.
"why are you doing everything one-handed?"
he blinks like the question doesn't make sense, then looks down at the baby and then back at you.
"because i have a baby attached to me?"
"you could put her down."
he narrows his eyes slightly.
"or," he counters, shifting her higher on his hip, "i could not."
your breath hitches just a little at the movement. god.
"she likes being held." he continues, softer now, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. "and i don't mind."
you swallow. "i can take her-"
"nope." it's immediate and firm.
you raise a brow. "steve-"
"you've had her all night." he says, turning back to the stove.
"she's mine now." he smiles at the baby, pretending to chew on her chunky belly, getting a loud laugh out of her.
you watch him for a second.
the way he smiles at her.
the way he adjusts the heat.
the way he checks whatever he's cooking.
the way he absently sways side to side, like his body just knows how to keep her calm.
"you're showing off, steven." you accuse.
he snorts. "oh yeah, because flipping pancakes with a baby is my biggest flex."
"it is."
"you think this is hot, don't you?" he glances at you again, a slow grin spreading.
you choke on absolutely nothing. "what?"
"you do!" he laughs, pointing the spatula at you. "i can see it on your face.
"there's nothing on my face."
"there's a lot on your face." he teases. "it's a whole thing, actually."
"you're insufferable." you push off the doorway, walking toward him.
"and yet," he says, smug, "you're walking closer." you stop right in front of him.
your daughter turns her head, blinking up at you.
"hi, pretty girl." you murmur, reaching out to brush your fingers over her cheek.
she immediately tries to grab your hand.
steve chuckles softly. "yeah, she's got a grip now. watch out."
"i've noticed." your fingers linger for a second longer before you look back up at him.
big mistake because now you're really close and he's looking at you like he knows exactly what he's doing.
"what?" he murmurs.
"nothing."
"no, you've got that look again." he smirks.
"what look?"
"the one where you're thinking things and not saying them." you scoff lightly. "you're imagining things."
"am i?" he tilts his head, stepping just a fraction closer.
your heart immediately betrays you.
"steve." you warn softly.
"yeah?"
"the pancakes."
he glances over his shoulder. "oh shit."
he quickly turns back to the stove, flipping them with a bit more urgency.
you laugh under your breath. "multitasking king."
"hey, i had it under control." he mutters.
"mhm."
there's a small pause.
then...
"you can still look at me like that, you know."
you blink. "what?"
he doesn't turn around this time, just shrugs slightly, like he's trying to play it casual.
"like… before. you don't have to stop just because we have her now.”
your expression softens. "babe..."
"i'm serious." he says, quieter. "i know things are different. we're tired all the time, and everything's about her, and-" he exhales softly. "i just don't want you to feel like we're... gone."
your chest aches a little.
you step closer again, gently touching his arm. "we're not gone."
"no?" he glances at you.
"no." you shake your head. "we're just... different. better, actually."
his lips twitch. "better, huh?"
"yeah." you lean in slightly, lowering your voice. "for example, you cooking with our baby on your hip?"
he raises a brow.
"very hot." you tease.
he lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "you're unbelievable."
"and you love it."
"yeah," he admits softly. "i really do."
the baby lets out another little sound, like she's impatient. steve looks down at her instantly.
"okay, okay, i know. you're hungry. i'm working on it, boss."
"want boobie, baby?" you ask her.
she just grabs her dad's shirt and lays her head on it quickly to try to make you understand she won't be leaving his embrace anytime soon.
you laugh quietly at how spoiled your daughter is.
steve's entire demeanor shifts around her. softer. warmer. and completely gone.
"such a daddy's girl." you smile, tickling your daughter's side. steve smiles at your comment, kissing her chubby cheek.
you smile.
the baby suddenly grabs at his chin. hard.
"ow-hey! okay, we don't attack the face! that's rude-" you laugh, reaching out to gently free him. "she's got your attitude."
"she absolutely does not!" steve scoffs.
she babbles again, louder this time. you both pause, then look at each other.
"okay, maybe a little." he admits.
you grin. "yeah, she's got your attitude and your looks. little shit looks exactly like you when you were a baby."
"babe?! don't swear around her!" he says, completely offended. "but yeah, she does look a lot like me." he smiles.
he finishes up the food, plating it while still holding her, and somehow manages not to drop anything.
you're genuinely impressed.
"how are you doing this?" you ask.
"i have no idea." he replies honestly.
you lean against the counter, watching him move around the kitchen like this is just normal.
"pst." you smirk.
"yeah?"
"you're very attractive right now."
he freezes mid-motion and slowly turns his head.
"i knew it...!"
you laugh. "i hate you."
"no, you don't." he grins, stepping closer again. "you love me. especially when i'm being a responsible father."
"don't push it."
"too late." he shifts the baby slightly, freeing one hand just enough to reach for you.
his fingers curl around your wrist, tugging you closer. "c'mere, baby."
"steve-" you point your eyes to your child.
"relax." he murmurs, softer now.
he leans in, pressing a quick, gentle kiss to your lips.
your breath catches anyway.
"she's staring." you laugh mid-kiss.
"i can't kiss, mommy? mm?" steve looks down at his daughter curiously looking between you two. "breakfast first, then you can keep staring at me like that all you want."
you smile, barely able to help it. "deal."
your daughter squeaks between you like she's approving the arrangement.
and honestly? you think she might be.
note: did yall see that new video of joe talking to a little girl in mexico? 💔💔💔
summary: you and steve just had a little girl, now it’s time for his family to meet her. steve is not happy about it and turns on his hot protective dad mode.
warnings: literally nothing, it’s just a fluff, not proofread.
note: dad!steve are always my least liked and read fanfics but i love writing for him 😭😭😭😭 requests are open !!!
don’t repost or translate my work.
the house was already loud before you even stepped inside. not just loud, full.
voices layered over each other, laughter echoing through the hallway, the clinking of glasses, someone calling steve’s name from somewhere deep inside like they’d been waiting at the door for hours.
steve froze with his hand on the doorknob.
you felt it immediately. the way his body went tense beside you, the way his other hand came up instinctively to hover over your daughter’s head, like he could shield her from the noise before it even reached her.
“baby, i don’t like this…” he muttered.
you shifted the baby slightly higher against your chest, instinctively swaying. “you said that in the car, steve.”
“yeah, well,” he swallowed, glancing at the door like it personally offended him, “i meant it more now.”
you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “it’s your family.”
“exactly!” he said quickly, like that proved his entire point. “there’s like, what? twenty of them in there? twenty people with hands. and germs. and opinions.”
“they just wanna meet her, it’s completely normal that they’re excited. she’s their first granddaughter. your family hasn’t had a baby around for a while.” you said gently.
“they can be excited from a distance.”
you laughed under your breath, leaning your head briefly against his arm. “we’re not turning around.”
“we could…” he mumbled.
“steve.”
he sighed, long and dramatic, then leaned closer to you. his voice softer now, quieter, real.
“she’s so small…” he said, eyes flicking down to the tiny face tucked into the blanket. “what if someone- what if they hold her wrong? or get too close? or- i don’t know, breathe weird near her-”
“breathe weird?” you repeated, amused.
“you know what i mean.”
you did.
you reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “hey. we’re right here. nobody’s taking her from us.”
his jaw clenched slightly. “okay...”
you nudged him with your shoulder. “open the door, dad.”
he rolled his eyes at the nickname, but there was no heat in it, just nerves, too many feelings sitting too close to the surface.
he knocked once.
big mistake, because the second the door opened…
“they’re here!”
“oh my god-”
“is that her- is that the baby?!”
steve physically stepped in front of you. like actually stepped in front of you. one arm stretched back, pressing lightly against your stomach to keep you behind him as at least six people immediately crowded the doorway.
“whoa- hey- HEY!” he said, louder now, sharper. “back up.”
they didn’t, so he moved forward, just one step. but it was enough to make people pause.
“nobody touches her yet.” he said firmly. “seriously. nobody.”
the room went quiet in that awkward, surprised way that only families could manage.
his mom blinked at him. “steven-”
“i’m not kidding,” he added, softer but somehow more intense. “you can look. just- no hands.”
you peeked around his shoulder, trying not to laugh.
“hi, mrs. harrington.” you say sheepishly.
“oh sweetheart…” his mom said immediately, her expression melting. “you must be exhausted. come in, come in.”
this time, steve let you move but didn’t take his hand off you, not for a second.
his palm stayed pressed to your back as he guided you inside, eyes scanning every single person in the room like he was counting them, memorizing them.
“okay.” his dad said, raising both hands like he was being held at gunpoint. “we’re backing up. see? space.”
“thank you.” steve replied quickly.
someone from the couch leaned forward. “can we at least see her face?”
steve hesitated.
you shifted the blanket slightly, just enough to reveal your daughter’s tiny face.
a collective gasp filled the room.
“oh. my. god.”
“she’s perfect!”
“look at her little nose-”
“she looks just like steve.”
steve’s chest puffed slightly.
“yeah.” he said, quieter now. “i know.”
one of his aunts stepped closer, already leaning in. steve leaned in too.
“no kissing.” steve says.
“i wasn’t-”
“no kissing anywhere.” he repeated. “not her face, not her hands, not- just don’t.”
“okay.” she said, blinking.
“and don’t get too close to her face.” he says.
“steve.”
“i’m serious.”
you bit your lip hard, shoulders shaking slightly.
his cousin muttered under his breath. “he’s worse than a security guard.”
you laugh, agreeing with him.
“i heard that.” steve shot back immediately.
“of course you did.”
his mom stepped forward more carefully this time, her voice softer. “steve, honey… can i hold her?”
everything in him paused.
you watched it happen. the hesitation, the instinct to say no sitting right there on the tip of his tongue.
his hand found yours again.
“only if you want to, baby.” he murmured to you.
you nodded. “it’s okay.”
he exhaled slowly, then turned back to his mom like he was negotiating a contract.
“okay. but listen-”
“oh boy…” his dad muttered.
“support her head,” steve said, already moving closer. “like fully. like- here… no- like this!”
he actually adjusted his mom’s arms before the baby was even in them.
“steve.” you whispered, laughing quietly.
“i’m just showing her.” he defended.
“you are my son… i’ve held a baby before, steve.” his mom giggles.
“not this baby.” he replies.
that shut the room up again.
very, very carefully, he helped transfer your daughter into his mom’s arms.
the entire house went silent.
your baby made a soft little noise, shifting slightly.
steve tensed immediately.
“babe, she’s fine.” you murmured.
“i know, i know…” he said quickly, already hovering so close he might as well have still been holding her. “she just- she moved.”
“she’s a baby.” you teased gently
“yeah, but that sounded like a specific movement.”
“what does that even mean?”
“i don’t know, i just-” he cut himself off, shaking his head. “never mind.”
“babe, steve. calm down.” you grab his hand, running your thumb through his palm.
his mom smiled softly, rocking the baby just slightly. “she’s perfect, steve.”
he softened instantly.
“yeah,” he said quietly. “she is.”
someone across the room pulled out a camera.
steve didn’t even look.
“no flash.”
“i didn’t-”
“no flash.” he repeated.
“steve,” you laughed. “they get it.”
“i don’t think they do.”
his cousin stood up. “can i hold her next?”
steve’s head snapped toward him. “how long are you planning on holding her?”
“i don’t know. like a minute?”
“thirty seconds.” steve says simply.
“what?”
“thirty seconds,” steve repeated. “and if she even thinks about crying, she goes back to her mom.”
“dude-”
“and support her head.” steve says.
“i know how to hold a baby!”
the transfer happened again. slow, careful, steve hovering the entire time like he was supervising a high-risk operation.
you watched him more than anything.
the way he didn’t sit. the way he didn’t relax. the way his eyes followed every tiny movement your daughter made, every shift of her hands, every breath.
“you’re staring.” you whispered.
“i’m monitoring.” steve replies.
“you’re staring.”
“what if he drops her?”
“he’s not going to drop her.” you reassure.
“he could drop her.”
“steve.”
“i’m just saying-”
“steve.”
he sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “i don’t like other people holding her.”
you softened instantly. “i know.”
“she doesn’t even know them.” steve sighs.
“she’s so perfect, sweetheart.” steve’s mom says to you.
“i know.” you pout, smiling at your newborn daughter. “she’s an angel, doesn’t cry that often, just eats and sleeps.”
“and she looks just like steve, god.” another person from his family adds.
“she does!” you laughed quietly, resting your head against steve’s shoulder for just a second.
and then, you spoke too soon.
your baby’s face scrunched, a tiny sound. and then, a cry.
steve moved instantly. “okay- alright, give her.”
“i’ve got her.” his cousin said quickly.
“no, she wants her mom.” steve insisted, already reaching for her.
“steve, i can-”
“she wants her mom.” steve insists once more.
“how do you know?”
“i know.”
his voice wasn’t loud but it was firm.
he took her back gently but quickly, turning immediately toward you.
“here.” he said softly, placing her into your arms like it was the most natural thing in the world. “there you go, mama.”
the second she settled against you, she quieted like a switch. her tiny hand grabbing your finger.
the whole room exhaled.
steve melted. his shoulders dropped, his hand coming up to brush gently over her cheek, his expression soft in a way that made your chest ache.
“hi, pretty girl…” he murmured, a smile on his face.
he stepped closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, slow, careful, lingering.
then his arm wrapped around both of you, pulling you into his side like he couldn’t not.
“okay,” his mom said gently, smiling. “we’ll give her a break.”
“yeah, she needs a break.” steve said immediately.
“steve-”
“and she’s staying with us now.”
you raised a brow. “steve.”
“i’m serious.” his fingers tightened slightly against your arm, not enough to hurt just enough to ground himself.
“they’re not taking her again.” he added quietly.
you looked up at him. at the nerves, the protectiveness, the overwhelming love that he clearly didn’t know what to do with.
“you’re doing really good.” you smile at him.
he blinked. “yeah?”
“yeah.”
he huffed out a small laugh. “even though i just threatened my entire family?”
“you didn’t threaten them.”
“i definitely threatened them.”
“a little.”
he smiled, finally, properly.
then looked back down at your daughter and everything in him softened all over again.
“she’s just…” he trailed off, shaking his head slightly.
“i know.” you say, caressing the baby’s head.
he swallowed, pressing his forehead lightly against yours for a brief second.
“no one’s messing this up.” he whispered.
“they won’t.”
“i won’t let them.”
“you would never let them, steve.” you laughed, shifting your daughter slightly between you both.
and steve? he didn’t let go of either of you for the rest of the night.
can we take more polaroids for you to hide? - best friend!steve harrington
pairing: best friend!steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: why does your best friend keep an envelope full of polaroids of you in his drawer?
warnings: explicit language, steve has a boner???, making out, implied sex, cursing, not proofread.
note: this is inspired by chappell roan’s love me anyway !! also, requests are still open btw! enjoy :)
don't repost or translate my work.
steve has a polaroid camera in the top drawer of his bedside table.
not on the dresser where people can see it. not on a shelf like something sentimental.
it lives in the drawer. buried under loose quarters, a tangled cassette tape, three movie ticket stubs, and a pen that barely works anymore.
and, if you dig a little deeper, there are pictures inside a white envelope. all of them are of you.
not the kind of pictures boyfriends keep in their wallets. not the kind they show their friends, either. steve takes them when you're sitting on the edge of his bed wearing his shirt, or when you´re under him, naked with his cock still hard inside you, or when you're halfway through telling him to knock it off before the flash goes off anyway.
“steve-”
click.
every time you say the same thing. every time he grins like he’s proud of himself while the picture slowly fades into view between his fingers.
you’ve been best friends for years. since before the stupid popularity, before half the town knew his name.
somewhere along the way, things got complicated.
it didn’t happen all at once. it was little things first. falling asleep on his couch after movie nights. soft touches here and there. sharing a blanket. your legs thrown over his lap like it was the most normal thing in the world. because it was.
then one night you kissed him.
and neither of you ever really talked about it after that.
now it’s just something that happens sometimes. late at night. when his house is quiet. when you’re both a little too close on his bed and neither of you feels like pretending you don’t want it.
best friends, with a habit of hooking up and pretending it doesn’t mean anything.
and a drawer full of polaroids that steve absolutely, definitely doesn’t look at when you’re not around.
it´s one of those nights again. steve called you over innocently, knowing damn well how the night with you is gonna end.
you’re digging around in steve’s nightstand drawer.
he’s stretched out on the bed, shirtless, dick hard and swollen hitting his hairy happy trail, tossing you a lazy smirk like he knows exactly what he’s gonna do to you.
“where’d you put them?” you murmur, rifling through the mess.
he shrugs, staring at your naked body. “put what?”
“the… you know,” you say, rolling your eyes. “condoms, steve. i told you this a billion times, i’m not doing this without-”
and then your fingers hit something different.
a white envelope. neat. doesn’t belong in the chaos of receipts and old gum wrappers.
curious, you slide it out. it’s heavier than a single condom packet should be.
you pull the flap open.
and then the world tilts a little. there’s you.
dozens of versions of you. laughing, frowning, your face covered in his cum, his shirt hanging off your shoulder, messy hair over your eyes, naked body laying on his bed. the camera caught every little thing. every night, every careless moment, every time you thought he wasn’t looking.
you freeze.
he doesn’t notice.
he’s still lying there, smirking like he’s king of the world, waiting for you to grab the condom from the drawer.
“find ‘em yet?” steve asks, voice rough and sleepy.
you don’t answer. your fingers are still inside the envelope. there are so many.
the polaroids slide against each other with that soft, papery shuffle when your hand trembles a little.
you pull one out.
it’s you, again. you’re naked, laying on his couch, a blanket barely covering anything. there’s a date scribbled in messy pen along the bottom. steve’s handwriting.
you swallow.
another. you’re standing by the window in his room in black lingerie panties.
you remember this one. again, you thought he had thrown it away.
the camera caught everything, every little moment, every time you thought he wasn’t looking.
you feel something tight and weird in your chest.
“steve,” you say quietly.
he hums from the bed. “yeah, baby?”
you finally turn around. the second his eyes land on the polaroid in your hand, his expression changes. the lazy smirk fades a little.
“…oh.” he says.
you hold up the envelope. “what the hell is this?”
shit, are you mad at him?
“you weren’t supposed to find those.” steve drags a hand down his face, bringing the white bed sheet over his lap.
you stare at him. “there’s like… a million.”
“forty-two.” he corrects you, automatically.
silence.
“fuck.” steve closes his eyes.
“did you just-”
“shit. i mean- i didn’t mean to say that out loud.” he mutters into his hand.
you look back down at the bed.
you’ve dropped the rest of them onto the sheets without even realizing. the little white squares are scattered everywhere now.
“steve…” you say slowly.
“yeah?” he peeks at you through his fingers.
“why do you have forty-two pictures of me in an envelope.”
he shrugs.
a terrible, useless shrug.
“i like takin’ pictures.” he simply says.
you give him a look.
“okay, yeah, that sounded creepy.” he sighs.
“a little…” you mumble.
he pushes himself up slightly against the headboard now, sheet slipping lower on his hips.
“they’re not creepy.” you say, picking one up.
steve scratches the back of his neck. you look at him.
“steve.”
“yeah?”
“why do you even keep these?”
he looks down at the bed.
for once, steve harrington, the guy who never shuts up, looks like he’s thinking way too hard about what to say.
“i dunno,” he mutters.
you wait and he sighs.
“i just… like having them.”
“why?”
“because it’s you.” he gestures vaguely at the photos.
that doesn’t answer the question and he knows it.
you shift a little on the mattress, pulling the sheet higher around yourself without really thinking about it.
“okay,” you say carefully. “but why hide them here?”
that’s the part that makes him hesitate. he glances toward the nightstand drawer, then back at you.
“because if they’re out,” he says slowly, “then people ask questions.”
you raise an eyebrow. “what people?”
“…anyone.”
“steve.”
“okay, fine, mostly robin. you know how she’s always around and looking through my room. remember that day when she found your panties in my bathroom?” he groans.
you huff out a tiny laugh despite yourself. “yeah, she’d lose her mind.”
“exactly.”
your fingers run along the edge of one of the polaroids. “you could keep them in your wallet.”
“nope.”
“why?” you ask him.
“because that’s… boyfriend territory.” steve rubs his jaw.
neither of you move.
you glance back down at the photos scattered across his bed.
forty-two tiny reminders of nights like this. mornings like this. afternoons spent doing absolutely nothing together.
you pick up another polaroid from the bed. you’re standing by the stove in steve’s kitchen, only in his shirt, probably making him breakfast. you don’t remember him taking it.
“when did you take this?” you ask.
steve leans forward a little, his ears turn pink. “last summer, i think.”
“you kept it.” you say.
“yeah.”
“but you hid it, steve.”
“yeah.”
“why?” you look up at him.
steve exhales slowly, his shoulders slump a little like he’s tired of holding something in.
“because,” he says quietly. “i’m not supposed to want them the way i do.”
“what does that mean?” your stomach flips.
“it means you’re my best friend.” he gestures at the photos again.
“yeah.”
“and best friends don’t usually keep secret collections of pictures like this.” steve murmurs.
“steve,” you say softly. “best friends also don’t do… half the stuff we do.”
“yeah. no kidding.” he snorts.
the room goes quiet again.
you watch him. he’s staring at one of the polaroids near his hand, his thumb runs along the white edge of the picture.
“i look at them,” he says suddenly.
you blink.
“when you’re not here.” he shrugs a little, embarrassed now.
your chest tightens. “why?”
“seriously?” he laughs quietly, but there’s no humor in it.
“yes, steve. seriously.”
he finally looks up at you and there’s something soft in his expression now. something honest.
“…because i miss you sometimes, okay?”
your breath catches. he gestures helplessly.
“you’re not always here, okay? sometimes you’re busy or you’re out with friends or you’re on stupid dates with stupid guys.”
you say nothing.
he continues, voice quieter now. “and sometimes i just… want to see you. so i look at these.” his fingers tap lightly against the pile of photos.
“you miss me enough to look at pictures.” you stare at him.
“yeah.”
“even though you see me like… all the time.” you smile softly.
“yeah.”
steve scratches the back of his neck again, clearly realizing how insane that sounds. “look, it’s stupid, i know. i just-”
“it’s not stupid.”
he pauses. “…no?”
you shake your head slowly, your fingers brush over one of the polaroids again.
“it’s just… kinda sweet.” you say.
“you’re not mad?” steve squints at you suspiciously.
“i mean,” you say, holding up one where you’re clearly asleep and drooling slightly on his pillow, “i might be mad about this one.”
he immediately bursts out laughing.
“that one’s my favorite!”
“steve!”
you throw it at him. he catches it, still grinning.
then the laughter fades a little.
he looks at the picture in his hand. then at you.
“i wasn’t kidding, though.” he says softly.
“about?” you finally relax, laying on his chest, leg wrapped around his naked lap.
“missing you.”
the room feels smaller suddenly, quieter.
you pull the sheet tighter around yourself.
“you could just call me…” you murmur.
“i do call you.” steve smiles, hand going down to massage your ass.
“you could call more.”
steve tilts his head.
“or,” he says slowly. “you could just stay.”
your heart skips. “stay?”
“yeah.” he shrugs, trying to sound casual. “then i wouldn’t need the pictures.”
you look down at the polaroids scattered everywhere.
then back at him.
“you’d still take them.” you say.
he grins. “yeah, probably.”
“creep.” you roll your eyes, playfully. “so much for junior years steve calling jonathan byers a freak for taking pictures of you and nance. you’re out here doing the same.” you tease him, laughing now.
“hey!” he says defensively, holding back a laugh. “this is different, okay?!”
“whatever tickles your pickle, stevie.” you laugh softly.
he snorts, shaking his head, but there’s a smile tugging at his mouth.
“you’re so annoying.” he mutters.
“and yet,” you grin. “you keep me around.”
steve’s eyes flick down your body for a second, slow and unashamed like he’s remembering exactly how around you’ve been tonight before this situation interrupted you.
the sheet slips a little from your chest, his gaze lingers.
“yeah,” he says, quieter now. “i do.”
steve pulls you in. that familiar pull, the one that always happens when the teasing turns into something heavier.
you swallow.
he’s still looking at you like that like he’s trying to memorize something again, except this time there’s no camera in his hands.
just you.
“you say that like it’s a joke.” he murmurs.
“what?”
“keeping you around.” steve says.
“steve-” your breath catches a little.
“i mean it,” he cuts in, sitting up fully now. the sheet falls further down his lap, forgotten. “i want you around.”
your heart starts doing that stupid, fast thing again.
“you have me around,” you say, trying to keep it light. “i’m literally in your bed right now.”
“yeah,” he huffs, a small, almost frustrated laugh leaving him. “i know.”
and then, before you can even fully process the look on his face, he moves.
quick and sudden.
one second there’s space between you, the next he’s right there, one hand coming up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek like he’s done it a hundred times before.
“steve-”
he kisses you. it’s firm, a little desperate, like something finally snapped loose in him.
you make a small sound against his mouth, caught off guard, but your hands come up automatically, gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.
like you always do.
he leans into you, pressing you back into the mattress, one hand bracing beside your head while the other slides down your side, warm and familiar.
the sheet gets completely tangled between you. neither of you cares.
his kiss deepens, slower now but somehow more intense, like he’s trying to say something he doesn’t know how to put into words.
your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan softly against your lips.
“you drive me insane, baby.” he murmurs, barely pulling back, his forehead resting against yours for half a second before he’s kissing you again.
“you started it-” you laugh quietly, breathless.
“i always start it.” he mumbles, like it’s obvious, like it’s nothing.
but the way he says it?
it’s not nothing.
his lips move from your mouth to your jaw, slower now, like he’s remembering himself, like he’s trying to hold onto the moment instead of rushing through it.
your hands slide down his back, pulling him closer, legs instinctively shifting around his.
there’s no space left between you now. just familiarity.
he doesn’t pull away and neither do you.
for a second, everything just hangs there. your breath mixing with his, his hand still warm against your face, your fingers curled tight in his hair.
he swallows.
you feel it, the movement under your palm.
“say something.” he whispers, softer now. not cocky. not teasing. just him.
you don’t. instead, you tug him back down.
kiss him again.
and that’s all it takes. whatever line was still there, whatever thin little thread of we probably shouldn’t, snaps completely.
steve exhales against your mouth, something almost like a quiet “fuck” slipping out as his hand slides from your cheek down your neck, your shoulder, your waist- like he’s allowed to, now.
your back presses into the mattress as he leans over you again, slower this time but heavier, more deliberate. the kind of kiss that builds instead of rushes.
“you’re-” he starts, then stops, shaking his head against your lips.
“hm?” you whisper, breathless.
“you make everything complicated.” he huffs out a quiet laugh.
“you love it.” you smile, just barely.
“yeah,” he admits, way too easily. “i really do.”
your hands drag down his back, pulling him closer, closer, until there’s no space left.
he gets it.
his hand finds yours for a second, fingers tangling together before he presses them into the mattress beside your head, holding them there.
“you’re staying.” he says against your mouth, like it’s already decided.
“yeah.” you don’t even hesitate.
he stills for half a second, just enough to look at you.
something in his expression softens in a way that almost hurts to see, like all those stupid polaroids suddenly make sense.
“yeah?” he asks, quieter. you can feel his grin against your lips
“yeah, stevie.” you nod.
that’s all he needs.
and somewhere between tangled sheets, quiet laughs, and kisses that don’t feel so secret anymore, the drawer full of hidden pictures doesn’t matter as much.
note: this is a small one but i hope everyone lovesss it !! likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated 🫶🏻
requests are open btw, u can also request for other stranger things characters or someone else from my request list !!!!
a funny request for steve being jealous when his first daughter goes to homecoming with a boy
first homecoming - husband!steve harrington
pairing: husband!steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve and you had lucy at seventeen. now she’s fifteen, getting ready for her first homecoming and steve’s not taking it well.
warnings: steve and reader are 32, teen pregnancy, steve being a very jealous dad, literally just a fluff, nicknames, not proofread.
note: he’s such a girl dad. hope this is what you wanted babe !!
don’t repost or translate my work.
it still kind of amazed people when they found out.
steve harrington and you, who everyone swore were way too young, way too reckless, way too everything, had a fifteen-year-old daughter.
fifteen.
and it wasn’t some complicated story either. no hidden years, no gaps, no “we had her later and just look young.” no. the truth was simple, messy, and a little unbelievable.
you had lucy when you were both seventeen.
back then, hawkins was small enough that news like that spread fast. one week you were just another random couple and the next, everyone knew. whispers in hallways. teachers giving you those careful, pitying looks. parents talking in hushed voices like you’d already ruined your lives.
“you’re kids.” people said.
and yeah. you were.
you remember sitting on the edge of your bed, hands shaking, the test still clutched in your fingers. steve pacing back and forth like if he moved enough, maybe the situation would change.
but he stopped pacing eventually. stopped running his hands through his hair, stopped muttering “okay, okay, okay.” under his breath.
and then he looked at you.
“we’re gonna be okay,” he said, even though his voice cracked a little. “we got this.”
you didn’t believe him. not fully. but he said it like he meant it.
and steve, for all his flaws, had always been the kind of person who tried, really tried, when it mattered.
so you stayed and he stayed.
and somehow, between late-night shifts, missed parties, arguments that ended in exhausted laughter, and learning everything the hard way… you built something.
it wasn’t perfect. god, it was never perfect. but it was yours.
and steve enjoyed every single second with you when you were pregnant.
lucy came into the world screaming, tiny fists clenched like she already had something to prove. steve cried. like, full-on cried. you were too tired to tease him about it.
you grew up right alongside her while everyone else worried about prom dates and college applications, you were figuring out how to warm bottles at 3 am, how to calm fevers, how to survive on two hours of sleep and still show up the next day.
steve traded parties for diaper runs.
you traded lazy mornings for lullabies.
and somewhere along the way, without either of you noticing exactly when it happened, you stopped being those kids ‘who messed up’ and became a family.
“mom?”
lucy pulls you out of it.
you blink, realizing you’ve been staring at the same spot for way too long.
she stands in the doorway, half in, half out, like she’s not sure if she wants to commit to the moment yet.
fifteen years old. gosh.
you swear she was just learning how to walk yesterday.
“yeah?” you say, soft, already smiling.
she shifts her weight, fingers twisting together. nervous? excited? both.
“can you… help me with the zipper?”
and just like that, it hits you.
homecoming, her first one.
you feel something weird in your chest. something warm and achy and a little terrifying.
“of course, baby.” you say, standing up.
as you walk toward her, you catch a glimpse of steve in the hallway behind her.
he’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, trying so hard to look calm.
he’s failing. miserably.
his eyes flick between lucy and you, wide and slightly panicked, like he just realized time didn’t just pass. it sprinted.
you bite back a smile.
this night’s gonna be something.
“c’mere.” you murmur, gently turning lucy around so her back faces you.
her hair is half-done, soft waves falling over her shoulders, and the dress… god, the dress fits her like she’s suddenly not a kid anymore.
your hands hesitate for just a second before you pull the zipper up.
it’s such a small thing. a simple motion but it feels like closing a chapter.
“too tight?” you ask quietly.
“no,” she says, smoothing the front of it. “it’s perfect.”
you swallow something thick in your throat and force a smile she can hear. “yeah. yeah, it is.”
“you’re not gonna cry, are you mom?” lucy giggles.
your only response is a small laugh.
behind her, in the hallway, steve makes a sound.
not a word. not even close.
just… a noise.
you glance up and there he is, still leaning against the wall, except now his arms aren’t crossed anymore. they’re hanging uselessly at his sides, like he forgot what to do with them.
his eyes are locked on lucy.
wide and horrified. offended, almost.
you press your lips together, already knowing.
“dad?” lucy says, catching his stare in the mirror. “why are you looking at me like that?”
steve blinks. once. twice.
then, very seriously. “no.”
you snort.
lucy spins around. “no? what do you mean no?”
“i mean no,” he repeats, pushing himself off the wall. “absolutely not. who said you could look like that?”
“dad!” she groans, dragging out the word.
“i’m serious!” he gestures at her like she’s done something offensive. “you’re- you’re all-” he flails vaguely. “grown!”
“that’s kind of the point.” she shoots back.
since the day lucy started talking you knew steve was never gonna get another day of rest. she has his temper.
“no, it’s not! the point is you go to a dance, eat snacks, maybe- maybe awkwardly stand near your friends and then come home. that’s the point.”
you lean against the dresser, arms folded, enjoying this far too much.
lucy narrows her eyes. “i am going with my friends.”
steve freezes.
“…and?”
“and what, dad?” she says, way too innocent.
he points at her. “don’t do that.”
“do what?”
“that thing where you pretend you don’t know what i’m talking about.” steve points to his mini girl version.
you bite your lip, trying not to laugh.
“lucy,” steve says, slower now. cautious. “is there a boy involved in this situation?”
she hesitates.
steve’s soul leaves his body.
“nope,” he says immediately, shaking his head. “baby, no. absolutely not. she’s not going.” steve says to you.
“steve-” you manage to say before he interrupts you.
“i knew it. i had a feeling. i told myself, ‘steve, it’s fine, she’s just a kid,’ but no- of course not. of course there’s a boy. there’s always a boy-”
“dad, relax!” she interrupts, laughing now. “he’s just picking me up. it’s not a big deal.”
“picking you up?”
you actually have to turn away at that point, shoulders shaking.
“yeah.” lucy says, like she doesn’t hear the absolute crisis unfolding in front of her. “he’s driving us there.”
steve looks like he might faint.
“driving…” he repeats faintly. “a boy is picking up my daughter.”
“he’s sixteen.” she says.
“that’s worse!”
“how is that worse?!”
“because that means he just got his license! he barely knows how to exist on the road!”
you can’t help it, you laugh.
steve whips his head toward you. “this isn’t funny.”
“it’s a little funny.” you smile.
“our daughter is being chauffeured by some teenage guy and you think this is funny?”
“you were a teenage guy once.” you remind him.
“yeah, and that’s exactly why i’m concerned, angel!”
lucy groans, dragging her hands down her face. “oh my god.”
there’s a knock on the front door.
everything stops.
lucy freezes. steve goes rigid. you raise your eyebrows.
“that’s him.” lucy says, suddenly a lot quieter.
steve doesn’t move.
“steve.” you say.
nothing.
“steve.”
he slowly turns his head toward you, eyes wide, like you just asked him to walk into battle.
“i don’t like this.” he whispers.
“i gathered.” you say.
another knock.
lucy looks between you both. “can someone please get that before he thinks i died?”
steve straightens up immediately. “yeah. yeah, i got it.”
he does not, in fact, have it.
you watch as he walks toward the door like a man heading to his execution.
his shoulders are tense, jaw tight, running a hand through his hair twice before he even reaches the handle.
you follow, leaning casually against the wall as lucy lingers behind you, practically vibrating with nerves.
steve opens the door and there he is.
sixteen, like lucy said. dressed a little too formal for his own comfort, hair combed in a way that suggests he tried really hard. he’s holding a small bouquet, slightly crooked and looks like he might pass out any second.
he sees steve and immediately straightens.
“sir.” he says.
oh, this is going to be so good.
steve stares at him, silent. long enough that it starts getting uncomfortable.
“hello.” the boy tries again.
“hi.” steve echoes.
another pause.
you step in before this turns into a full interrogation. “you must be the famous driver.”
the kid nods quickly. “yes, ma’am.”
“name?” you ask.
“elijah, mrs. harrington.” he tells you, voice steady but just barely.
you smile, warm, reassuring. “it’s nice to meet you.”
steve makes a small noise beside you, not quite a protest.
more like a warning.
you elbow him lightly.
“lucy!” you call over your shoulder. “your ride’s here!”
she appears a second later, and the boy’s entire expression changes. like someone flipped a switch. he lights up, completely, undeniably smitten.
steve sees it and oh, he does not like that.
lucy smiles back, softer than you’ve ever seen her. “hi.”
“hi.” the boy says again, a little breathless this time, holding out the flowers. “these are for you.”
she takes them, cheeks pink. “thank you.”
you couldn’t be happier for your girl, oh to experience your first homecoming again.
steve on the other hand, inhales sharply.
you grab his arm before he says something he’ll regret.
“okay!” you clap your hands once. “pictures. now. before anyone moves.”
lucy groans. “mom!”
“nope. non-negotiable, baby.” you usher them toward the front steps, already reaching for the camera.
steve stands stiffly beside you, arms crossed again, eyes never leaving the boy.
“smile.” you say.
lucy does. the boy does.
steve does not.
you lower the camera slightly. “steve.”
“i am smiling.”
“you look like you’re planning a murder.”
“i’m considering my options.” he says.
lucy laughs despite herself. “dad!”
“i’m kidding.” he says.
he is not convincing.
you take a few more pictures anyway, capture the moment, because you know this is one of those things you’ll want to remember.
the nerves, the excitement.
the way lucy looks right now, caught between being your little girl and someone entirely her own.
finally, she turns back to you.
“i’ll be home by eleven.” she says.
“have fun, bug.” you reply automatically.
she nods, then she looks at steve.
and for a second, everything softens.
“i’ll be okay.” she tells him.
and just like that, all the tension drains out of him.
he exhales, long and slow.
“i know.” he says quietly.
“i’ll take good care of her, mr. harrington, i promise.” elijah assures steve.
“you better. i know where you live.” steve mutters to the boy.
“dad!”
“steve!”
you and your daughter say at the same time.
then, because he’s still him: “no funny business.”
“dad! pleeeease!” lucy whines.
“i’m serious!”
“bye!” she calls, already grabbing the boy’s hand and pulling him toward the car.
and then she’s gone, just like that.
you and steve stand there in the quiet that follows, watching the car pull away.
watching your daughter disappear down the street for her first real night out in the world.
“you don’t know where he lives.” you chuckle.
“i don’t know where he lives.” steve nods, holding back a laugh. “but i’ll find out if i need to.”
no one says anything for a long time.
then, finally. “we were seventeen, baby.” he murmurs.
you glance at him.
his eyes are still on the road.
“i know. “ you say softly, smiling.
he shakes his head a little, like he still can’t believe it.
“seventeen…” he repeats. “and now she’s fifteen and going to dances with boys who can drive.”
you smile, slipping your hand into his.
“we did okay.” you tell him.
he looks at you then and there’s something softer in his expression now. something proud. a little in awe.
“yeah, we did.” he says before pecking your lips softly.
but as you both head back inside, you catch him glancing at the door one more time.
just to make sure it’s still closed, just to make sure she’s really gone.
and you know he’s going to be standing by that window all night.
note: i love dad steve sm 😭 small but such a cute one !
requests are open, i’m BEGGING for more requests to get me out of my writers block or wtv tf this is
Ughhhh I’m like obsessed with casual nakedness, Steve would loveeee his girl with no bra and just panties walking around their home!! (ur so talented btw!!)
his morning distraction - steve harrington
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
warnings: making out, casual nakedness, sexual themes, steve being head over heels for the reader, cussing, boner, not proofread.
note: you’re so sweet, thank you sm 🥹 hope this is exactly what you wanted, love !! also, requests are still open !!! enjoy this one :)
don't repost or translate my work.
steve’s in the kitchen, half-awake, hair a mess, leaning against the counter while the toaster spits out his bread like it’s personally offended to be working this early. he’s in jeans, shirtless, barefoot, scratching absently at his jaw while he waits. his shirt sitting at the edge of a chair.
he hears you before he sees you, soft footsteps, familiar, slow, unhurried.
“mornin’, baby.” he mumbles, not even turning yet.
and then he does.
and he just… stops, completely.
because there you are, walking into the kitchen like it’s the most normal thing in the world, like this is just another morning, except you’re wearing nothing but a pair of panties.
just that.
no shirt, no bra, no attempt to hide or rush past him.
just you. comfortable.
his girl. in his house.
like that.
and steve doesn’t react the way anyone might expect. there’s no immediate comment, no teasing whistle, no stupid joke. he just stares, like he’s trying to memorize the moment.
“morning, stevie. you okay?” you ask, a little amused, grabbing a glass from the cabinet like nothing’s wrong, like he isn’t looking at you like you hung the moon.
he exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair.
“yeah,” he says, voice a little rougher than before. “yeah, i’m just-”
he pauses, shaking his head like he doesn’t even have the right words. “c’mere a second.”
you glance at him, curious, but you walk over anyway, stopping right in front of him.
and steve just… looks at you. not in a hungry way, not yet at least.
it’s softer than that.
his hand comes up, hesitating for just a second before resting on your waist, thumb brushing lightly over your skin like he’s grounding himself.
“you just walked in here like this?” he murmurs, almost to himself.
you shrug, a little smile tugging at your lips. “it’s our house, steve.”
“yeah, i know,” he says, huffing out a quiet laugh. “i know, i just-”
his eyes flicker over you again, slower this time, appreciative, warm.
“you’re so pretty. can’t believe you’re mine.”
it’s so simple it almost catches you off guard.
no teasing, no agenda.
your smile softens. “yeah?”
“yeah.” he nods, like it’s obvious, like it’s the easiest truth in the world. “just… walking around like that, like you don’t even think about it.”
his thumb traces a lazy line along your side, absent, rougher.
“i love that.” he whispers.
you lean into him slightly, resting your hands against his hairy chest, feeling the warmth of him.
“you’re not mad?” you tease lightly.
“mad?” he scoffs, finally grinning a little. “why would i be mad about that?”
you shrug, smiling. “some people don’t really like to see a naked person walking around the house.”
his hands settle more firmly on your hips now, pulling you just a fraction closer.
“pretty sure this is, like… my favorite thing that’s happened today.”
you laugh softly, shaking your head, but you don’t pull away.
steve’s gaze lingers a second longer.
his grip tightens, barely. his eyes drop to your breasts, then lift again, slower this time.
and there it is, that flicker. that warmth turning into something deeper. something heavier.
“you know,” he murmurs, voice dipping lower, “you’re kinda making it really hard for me to focus on anything else right now. and i have to make it to work in 30 minutes.”
you tilt your head, pretending innocence. “i’m just standing here.”
“that’s the problem, baby.” he huffs, smiling, but there’s something different in it now.
his hands slide slightly along your sides, more deliberate now, like he’s finally letting himself feel it instead of just admiring. his hands move lower to your ass, gripping the skin hard.
“walkin’ around my house like this, like you’re not-” he cuts himself off, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. “you don’t even realize what you do to me, do you?”
you don’t answer. you just look at him.
his breath catches just a little, and this time when he looks at you, it’s not just soft. it’s wanting.
“c’mere.” he says again, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.
his forehead dips to yours for a second, like he’s holding himself back.
“you’re unbelievable.” he murmurs.
and the way he says it, like he’s still a little in awe, like he still can’t believe you’re real, that you’re his. it makes your chest ache.
his lips hover close, not quite kissing you yet.
“next time,” he adds quietly, a hint of a smile in his voice, “maybe give me a warning.”
you laugh under your breath. “why?”
and he finally kisses you. slow and warm. he’s been thinking about it since the second he saw you.
“so i can pretend i’m prepared.” he murmurs against your lips.
but the way his hands tighten slightly, the way he pulls you closer, the way his voice has dropped into something softer and deeper. he’s not prepared at all and he doesn’t want to be.
and for a second, everything stays like that. close to you.
his lips moving against yours like he’s got nowhere else to be, like he’s letting himself feel every second of it instead of rushing.
your hands slide up his chest once more, and he makes this quiet sound, barely there, but you feel it more than hear it.
he is aware of you. of the way your skin feels under his hands. of the fact that there’s nothing between you and him and it’s getting to him.
“you’re killin’ me, baby.” he murmurs against your lips, voice low, almost a whisper.
you smile slightly, brushing your nose against his. “i thought you liked it.”
he lets out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking his head.
“yeah,” he says, quieter now, eyes flicking down and then back up again, like he’s trying to behave. trying and failing. “yeah, i do.”
his hands slide again, slower this time, fingertips tracing along your boobs like he’s relearning you, like he can’t quite believe he gets to touch you like this.
there’s a pause, not awkward. and then he exhales, resting his forehead against yours again.
“you walk around like this all the time when i’m not lookin’?” he asks, voice softer now, almost curious.
you shrug lightly. “sometimes. when you’re at work.”
he groans, quiet, half-laughing, half something else entirely.
“that’s not fair.” he mutters.
“why?” you smile up at him.
his thumbs press a little more firmly into your hips, like he’s trying to make a point he doesn’t quite have words for.
“because i’d never get anything done.” he says. “i’d just be followin’ you around the house like a damn dog all day.”
you laugh softly, and that sound, god, it does something to him.
you can see it, the way his jaw tightens just a little, the way his eyes darken, just barely.
he kisses you again, deeper.
one of his hands slides up your back, slow, careful, like he’s giving you time to stop him if you want to, but you don’t.
you lean into him instead and that’s all the permission he needs.
he hums softly against your lips, pulling you closer, his other hand steady at your waist, keeping you right where he wants you.
“you’ve got no idea,” he murmurs, voice rougher now, words brushing against your mouth, “how hard it is to keep my hands to myself right now.”
you tilt your head slightly, breath catching just a little.
“you’re so pretty, it’s actually unfair.”
and you can’t help but smile against his lips.
steve is all over you now, messy wet kisses, hands grabbing everywhere in your body.
and it could keep going.
it probably would keep going, slow kisses turning a little more desperate, your name slipping out of his mouth like he needs it.
but you’re the one who breaks it. just enough.
you pull back with a soft breath, your lips brushing his one last time before you lean away, your hands still resting against his chest.
he follows you immediately, like instinct, like he’s not ready to let go yet.
“hey-” he murmurs, a little dazed, eyes still half-lidded, chasing your lips again.
you laugh softly, turning your head just enough so his kiss lands at the corner of your mouth instead.
“steve…”
the way you say it, gentle and a little amused, makes him pause.
“you’re gonna be late for work, baby.” you say softly.
he groans immediately, dropping his forehead to your shoulder like the words physically pained him.
“don’t say that,” he mumbles. “i was havin’ a moment.”
you smile, running your fingers lightly through his hair, smoothing it back even though it won’t stay that way.
“i know,” you murmur. “i noticed.” your eyebrows go up, staring at the tent in his jeans.
he huffs out a quiet laugh against your skin, arms still loosely around your waist like he refuses to fully let go.
“five more minutes.” he tries, lifting his head just enough to look at you again, hopeful, a little boyish. “c’mon.”
“nope. you already woke up late this morning, babe.” you shake your head, soft but firm.
“traitor.” he mutters, but there’s no heat in it, just a smile tugging at his lips.
you lean in, pressing a quick, warm kiss to his mouth, short this time, sweet, like a promise instead of a distraction.
“i made you lunch last night.” you add casually as you pull back, like it’s nothing.
he blinks at you. “you what?”
“it’s in the fridge.” you shrug, already stepping away from him, reaching for your glass again like this is just part of your routine. “don’t forget it this time.”
and steve just stands there for a second, staring at you. at the way you move around the kitchen like you belong there, because you do. at the way you say things like that so simply, like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t completely undo him.
“jesus christ…” he mutters under his breath.
you glance back at him. “what?”
he just shakes his head, running a hand over his face, smiling in that soft, slightly overwhelmed way he gets when he feels too much all at once.
“nothin’, sweetheart.” he says, stepping toward you again, like he can’t help himself.
he cups your face gently, pulling you into one more kiss, quick, but full of everything he doesn’t quite know how to say out loud.
when he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours again for just a second.
“i love you.” he murmurs, quiet but certain. “so so much.”
“i love you, stevie.”
steve grabs his shirt from the chair, sliding it over his head easily.
he leans his head back with a sigh, like leaving you is the hardest part of his day, already reaching for his keys.
“i’m definitely comin’ home early.” he adds, pointing at you like it’s a promise.
you laugh softly. “you better.”
and as he heads out the door, still shaking his head to himself, still smiling like he can’t believe this is his life.
all he can think about is you, walking around his house, your perfect boobs out. like you belong there. like you belong to him.
and somehow that you packed him lunch on top of it.
note: aaaaah i love domestic steve 😭😭😭
likes, comments and reblogs are soooo appreciated !! :)
requests are open btw, u can also request for other stranger things characters or someone else from my request list !!!!
warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected penetration, oral (steve receiving), boner???, kinda submissive steve but not completely (i tried my best), both characters are 18+, not proofread.
note: amelia @amelia15fantastic babe, thank you so muchhhh for this one, love. also, requests are still open btw! enjoy :)
don't repost or translate my work.
steve doesn’t try to hide it anymore.
he’s always hard around you. not fully all the time, not always. but enough that he shifts constantly when you’re close.
he knows it’s a problem. the way he knows when he’s about to lose a fight, because every single time you walk into a room, his body reacts before his brain does.
it’s subtle at first. a shift in his jeans. having to steal one of your pillows to hide the tent in his pants while you´re just innocently existing.
you’re sitting on his kitchen counter, eyeing steve while he cooks scrambled eggs on the stove next to you.
you’re dressed in one of his shirts, panties underneath, fresh out of the shower.
"eyes up here, harrington."
he swallows.
his grip tightens slightly on the wooden spoon he’s holding. “you’re wearing that on purpose.”
“that?” you look down at the shirt. “it’s just a shirt.”
“yeah, my shirt.” he mutters. “i can see your nipples through it.”
you blink at him.
for a second, you just stare.
then slowly, you look down again. the thin cotton of his old basketball tee is stretched just enough across your chest to make his point painfully valid.
you look back up at him.
"yeah, i´ve had these for a while." you chuckle at him, touching your nipples through the shirt.
“you know what you’re doing.” he voice is lower now.
you continue staring at your boobs through his shirt, getting distracted by how good they look. can he judge you? nop.
steve shifts in his pants. it’s immediate. every time. the smallest movement from you and his body reacts.
“steve.” you murmur.
“don’t, baby.” he breathes.
“don’t what?” you tilt your head, pretending innocence.
his jaw flexes. he looks away for a second, embarrassed, then forces himself to look back at you.
“you know what...” he says quietly.
he’s not dominant about it. steve just stands there, flushed and tense, like he’s waiting to be handled.
you get down from the counter, your bare feet hitting the cold floor as you make your way to stand behind steve. your hands find their way to his soft belly.
his eyes close immediately, head tipping back slightly. his hands lay on top of yours.
“you’re doing it again.” you whisper, resting your head on his back.
“doing what?” his voice is already strained.
“you’re hard before i even touch you, stevie.”
his cheeks go red instantly. “i can’t control it.”
“i didn’t say you could.”
you let your nails lightly scratch his abdomen, your lips pecking softly against his clothed back.
he makes the softest sound, not a moan, but something that punches straight through your core.
“you’re so needy.” you murmur.
he swallows. “can’t help it with you.”
you smile at that. he turns the stove off, and turns his body, now facing you.
his throat bobs. “you make me hard. all the goddamn time."
your hands slide to his chest.
he watches every inch of the movement.
“you’re always like this when i’m around?” you ask softly.
“yes,” he whispers. “it’s embarrassing.”
“it’s not, stevie.” you smile softly, reassuring him.
“i don’t even have to be touching you.” he laughs breathlessly. “you just walk in and i’m done for.”
you lean closer, your lips hovering near his.
“stevie...” your voice is soft. “you can’t control yourself, ´s not your fault.”
he shakes his head slightly.
“i don’t want to.” he says.
that makes you pause.
“what?”
“i don’t want to control it.” his voice drops. “i like that you do this to me.”
your pulse jumps. “you like feeling out of control?”
he nods once. “with you. yeah.”
your fingers trail down his sides. he grows bigger under the touch.
“you’re not even trying to hide it anymore.” you tease.
he exhales shakily.
“i tried. you noticed anyway.”
“because your pants suddenly doubled up in size, it’s clear, baby.” you smirk, looking at the giant tent on his jeans.
“i’m uncomfortable.” steve avoids eye contact.
“liar.”
his eyes flick up to yours, soft, almost pleading.
“okay,” he admits. “i’m not uncomfortable.”
you close the space between your hips, grinding yours against steve’s just slightly.
his head drops back a bit, groaning.
“jesus.” he mutters under his breath.
“too much?”
“not enough.” he says immediately.
his hand drifts lower to your ass.
you grab his jaw and kiss him.
hard.
steve makes a noise against your mouth that sounds half shocked, half relieved.
his fingers digging in on your ass cheeks, pulling you tighter against him. the friction makes him gasp into your mouth, and he doesn’t even try to hide it.
“god, baby.” he breathes, barely breaking the kiss before chasing it again.
you kiss him slow for half a second, just long enough to make him soften, and then you tilt your head and deepen it.
he melts and he groans low.
you can feel steve’s hips grinding harder against you, trying to find some relief in an awkward standing position.
“don’t stop.” he mutters, dragging you closer by the waist so he can kiss you again.
you bite his bottom lip lightly.
“steve,” you murmur against his mouth. “you can’t even keep still.”
“i’m trying.” he breathes.
“you’re not.”
“i don’t want to.” he grins against your lips.
he kisses you like he’s starving, messy, needy, open-mouthed and every time you pull back for air he follows, chasing your lips.
“you feel so good.” he mumbles against your skin when your mouth drags down his jaw.
“yeah?”
“yes,” he says immediately, breath hot. “you have no idea.”
you press your mouth back to his, slower this time, letting the tension stretch.
his tongue brushes yours. his hips roll up into you without thinking.
the friction makes both of you inhale sharply.
“steve.” you moan softly.
he freezes for half a second.
“you’re gonna kill me, baby.” steve holds you steady.
“not yet.”
you kiss him again, deeper, slower. he buries one hand in your hair to keep you close.
steve’s breathing is still uneven when you pull back just enough to look at him.
his lips are swollen. his hair’s a mess from your hands. his fingers are still gripping your waist and ass.
you guide steve backwards until his hips hit the counter, a surprised grunt escaping his lips at the sudden movement.
his eyes widen as you sink to your knees before him.
“fuck, baby.” he murmurs, low, one of his hands grip the counter.
“just relax, stevie.” you smile up at him, an innocent look on your eyes, driving him insane.
the other hand comes to rest on the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. steve swallows hard, his adam's apple bobbing visibly as he nods, giving himself over to your command.
your hands make their way to tug down his his pants and underwear down in one motion. his cock springs free, already hard and rapidly swelling under your attention.
“angel… fuck, more.” a sharp intake of breath hisses through steve’s teeth as his hips instinctively thrust forward, seeking more of your touch.
his hand tightens in your hair, not pushing or pulling, but simply anchoring himself as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes.
steve inhales sharply as your warm breath ghosts over his sensitive tip, cock twitching with anticipation. “c’mon, baby.”
the muscles in his thighs flex as he spreads his stance wider, giving you better access.
a loud moan tears from steve’s throat as your lips finally wrap around the swollen head of his cock, your tongue swirling teasingly around the sensitive tip. his grip in your hair tightens, pulling this time, grounding himself.
“ohhh fuck yes, baby.” he groans, head thudding back against the cabinet as he watches you, transfixed by the erotic sight of your lips stretched around his cock.
you begin to bob your head, taking him deeper with each pass, relaxing your throat for him.
“taking my cock so well.” he pants, his free hand coming to rest on your cheek, thumb stroking over your flushed skin.
steve’s breathing grows as you take him deeper, the wet heat of your mouth enveloping his dick completely. he fights the urge to thrust, letting you set the pace as you work him over with lips and tongue and throat.
the obscene sounds of your efforts fill the kitchen, mixing with his desperate moans and grunts of pleasure.
steve can feel the coil of tension building low in his gut, balls drawing up tight as you bring him closer to the edge with each passing second.
“fuck, i'm getting close already...” steve warns you, voice strained with the effort of holding back.
your hand cups and massages steve’s aching balls, stimulating him closer to his orgasm. his hips buck involuntarily, driving his cock deeper into your mouth.
“oh, god- fuuuuck!” steve moans loudly, his entire body tensing as the orgasm crashes over.
thick ropes of cum shoot down your throat as you feel his cock pulse and throb against your tongue.
steve slumps back against the counter, chest heaving as he struggles to catch hus breath, aftershocks. slowly, he eases his now half hard dick from your lips. “holy shit, baby. that was way too fast…” steve sighs.
“no, babe…” you try to reassure him, still on your knees, soft lips giving his tip a peck.
steve grabs your hand that was resting on his hip, to pull you up and hold you against his chest. your knees ache.
“you have me wrapped around your fucking finger, angel. you made me cum so fast. that- wasn’t supposed to happen.” steve grins. a satisfied grin.
he nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling your scent as he peppers light kisses along your temple and cheek.
“ride me, baby.” he whispers.
“is that what you want, stevie?” you say.
he simply nods, bottom lip slightly sticking out.
jesus.
you grab steve’s hand, leading him slowly to the living room, the familiar scent of vanilla candles immediately hitting your nostrils.
“sit, stevie.” you smirk at him.
steve takes a seat in the middle of the couch, cock hardening again at the sight of you pulling his tshirt over your head and your panties down. your nips harden when they come in touch with the cold air of the room.
his eyes run hungrily over your newly exposed skin, drinking in the sight of your bare torso. steve licks hips lips, resisting the urge to reach out and touch your body.
he watches, frozen as you straddle his lap, your naked breasts mere inches from his face. steve’s hands automatically come to rest on your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he fights again the urge to surge forward and bury his face between those perfect tits.
“god, sweetheart...” he breathes, voice rough with desire. “you're so fucking perfect. need you wrapped around me again, yeah?”
slowly, steve trails his fingertips up your sides, mapping the curves of your waist and ribcage until he’s cupping the weight of your breasts in his rough palms.
your soft hand wraps around his length, stroking it slightly. steve rolls his hips up against your hand, groaning.
“so soaked for you, steve.” you whisper, rubbing his tip against your wet folds.
with a swift thrust of steve’s hips, his cock slips from your hand into your entrance. a loud moan leaving steve’s mouth immediately.
“ooooh fu-uuck yeah, baby.” he pants, giving you a moment to adjust to his size before starting up a steady rhythm.
his hands gripping your ass hard enough to bruise as he bounces you on his cock softly but deeply.
“stevie, fuck. you feel so good inside me.” you moan, pussy clenching around him.
“riding me like you were made for it, baby. taking me so deep...”
steve leans forward to capture your lips in a filthy, open-mouthed kiss, all tongues and teeth. his hips piston up to meet yours, the obscene slap of skin on skin filling the room.
“fucking love you so much, angel. moanin’ so pretty for me.” steve praises you, his dick hitting the right spot inside you.
steve suddendly flips your position, hovering over you with your legs wrapped around his waist. a grin spreads across his face as he drinks in the sight of you splayed out beneath him.
steve looks down at his cock still inside you, a creamy white ring at the base of it, both of your juices mixed.
“steve ohh-st-t-ohh-mmhmphh” you moan, grabbing onto his biceps as he starts thrusting his hips against your ass.
“takin’ my cock so well, baby.” steve purrs approvingly, rolling his hips in a slow, deep grind that has you rolling your eyes into the back of your head.
he leans down to capture your lips in a wet kiss, swallowing your moans as he starts up a relentless pace, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes, holding you so close and steady he can feel the perfect shape of your ass against his hips.
“gonna fuck this perfect little pussy so good.” steve growls against your mouth.
his praises making your pussy clench even harder on him.
he groans, hips stuttering as he struggles to maintain his rhythm. “fuck, your cunt ‘s gripping me so tight, baby...”
steve leans down to bury his face in the crook of your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin as he redoubles his efforts, hips snapping against yours with almost punishing force.
“ah, yes!” you whimper. “fuuuuck, steve, yes. god.”
you can feel steve’s thrusts becoming sloppy as time passes, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs to hold you steady.
“i'm getting close, baby…” steve pants. “gonna fill this pretty pussy. ‘s that what you want, yeah?” he whispers in your ear, cock going somehow deeper in you.
“god, yes steve. please, make me cum, please stevie. ah- fuck!”
he reaches between you to frantically circle your clit with his thumb, determined to bring you with him.
“cum on my cock, sweetheart. please.” his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
he rubs tight circles around your swollen clit as he grinds against you with deep rolls of his hips. steve’s cock throbs inside you, pulsing with impending release as he pours everything he has into bringing you to the edge before him.
“c’mon, baby...” he encourages breathlessly, thumb still working over your sensitive clit. “let go for me.”
steve capture your lips in a messy kiss, swallowing your cries as he continues to work you over with single-minded focus. his balls draw up tight, climax barreling down on him like a freight train, but steve grits his teeth and holds back, determined to push you over first.
“ohh-st-teve oh- oh my god, yes, yes.” your body tenses beneath him, back arching off the couch as your orgasm crashes over you.
the feeling of your walls closing around his cock is too much to bear, and with a shout of your name, he finally lets go.
“fuck, baby!” he groans loudly, hips stuttering as he buries myself to the hilt and explodes inside you. thick, hot shots of cum paint your insides as he grinds against you, prolonging your orgasm a little more.
“steve!”
“i know, baby. i know.” he collapses on top of you, both of you panting and twitching with the aftershocks.
steve presses sloppy kisses along your jaw and neck, murmuring praise between breaths.
you run your fingers slowly through his hair. it’s messy now.
steve makes a soft noise. not a word. just a low hum in his throat, the kind he does when he’s satisfied.
there’s a long, comfortable silence between you.
“you good?” you murmur, breaking the silence.
he nods against you immediately. “yeah. you feel so fucking good.”
you smile at that.
he doesn’t move. if anything, he presses closer, one of his legs sliding between yours as he buries his face further into your neck and chest.
“steve.” you smile a little.
“mhm.” he l lifts his head just enough to look at you, hair falling into his eyes, cheeks flushed and soft in the dim light.
there’s a lazy smile on his face, the kind you only see when he’s completely relaxed.
“…can we stay like this for a while?” you ask, a lazy smile playing in your lips.
“mm, c’mere.” he mumbles, nodding, tugging you closer.
his fingers start tracing slow patterns on your stomach, absentminded, like he just needs to keep touching you.
note: aaaaah i love this one but it took me so long to get it finished 🥹🥹 hope everyone likes it !!! go request something babes !
summary: watching steve smoke cigarettes at a party does something to you.
warnings: smoking, kissing, making out, not proofread.
note: short one but i wanted to write this for a while now lol. requests are still open btw! enjoy :)
don't repost or translate my work.
the first time it really happens is outside a house party.
hawkins parties are always the same, too many people packed into one place, music blasting through speakers that can barely handle it, someone yelling in the kitchen, someone else arguing in the hallway, the smell of soda and beer mixed with summer heat.
you escaped outside about ten minutes ago.
the back porch is quieter. not silent, but quieter. a few people linger around the railing, the backyard grass dark under the night sky, cicadas buzzing somewhere in the trees.
you’re leaning against the wooden porch post with a plastic cup in your hand when the back door creaks open again.
you don’t even look at first.
until you hear a voice you recognize. “man, i swear this house gets hotter every year.”
steve harrington.
your eyes flick over automatically, and there he is.
he steps onto the porch with that casual confidence he always has, like he belongs anywhere he stands. his hair is slightly messy tonight, probably from the humidity, and the sleeves of his t-shirt are rolled up just enough to show his arms.
he leans against the railing, laughs at something one of the guys beside him says, then he reaches into his pocket.
you don’t think anything of it at first until he pulls out a cigarette.
your brain pauses.
steve taps the cigarette lightly against the pack before sliding it between his lips. the motion is easy, completely natural.
he flicks a lighter open. for a split second the flame lights up his face in the dark, the line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth.
then he inhales. the tip glows orange.
his cheeks hollow slightly as he takes the drag and when he pulls the cigarette away, he exhales in one long, lazy stream.
the smoke curls upward into the warm summer air.
and something in your brain completely short circuits, because suddenly, for absolutely no logical reason, this is the hottest thing you have ever seen in your life.
you stare. you really stare.
it’s not just the cigarette. it’s the way he holds it loosely between his fingers. the relaxed posture.
the slight squint in his eyes as he looks out into the backyard. the way he exhales slowly.
your stomach does a weird little flip.
okay. that’s strange.
you’re not even someone who likes smoking. you’ve even complained about it before. you’ve literally said it’s gross.
and yet watching steve smoke is doing something to you that you absolutely cannot explain.
so you quickly look away and focus on your drink. pretend you were looking at literally anything else.
three seconds pass.
then your eyes drift back again.
because now he’s laughing, cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers while he talks to someone beside him.
he lifts it again. inhales.
your stomach flips again. oh my god. what is wrong with you.
“you’re staring.”
you jump.
your friend bumps your shoulder, grinning.
“i am not staring.” you say.
she raises an eyebrow. “you’ve been staring at king steve over there like he’s the only person on this porch for the last two minutes.”
“that is not true.”
“that is extremely true.”
you roll your eyes dramatically. “i was just looking outside.”
“outside where? specifically at steve?”
“oh my god, you’re being dramatic.” you sigh.
she glances over at steve, her gaze lands on the cigarette in his hand, then slowly shifts back to you.
“…oh.” her eyes widen.
your stomach drops.
“what oh.”
she gasps quietly. “wait-”
“don’t even.”
“you like it.” she laughs teasingly.
“like what.” you blink.
she points subtly toward steve. “that. you little-”
you follow her gesture before you can stop yourself.
steve lifts the cigarette again. inhales.
your heart skips.
your friend’s jaw drops. “OH MY GOD.”
you slap your hand over her mouth instantly. “shut uuuup.”
“are you serious right now?” she pulls your hand away, laughing under her breath.
“what are you talking about?!”
“you’re into it!”
“i am not into anything!”
“you’re telling me watching steve harrington smoke isn’t doing something for you right now?” she leans closer, whispering loudly.
you feel your ears getting hot. “no.”
“…you’re blushing.” she squints at you.
“it’s warm outside.”
“sure.”
she looks back at steve again. then back at you. then suddenly she bursts into quiet laughter. “this is incredible.”
“please stop talking.”
“no, this is too funny,” she says. “you, the same person who gave me a ten minute lecture about how smoking is disgusting, are currently staring at steve like he’s the hottest man alive because he has a cigarette.”
you groan, covering your face. “i hate you.”
“you absolutely do not hate me because i just discovered your weird little-”
“hey, ladies.”
your heart stops.
steve’s voice. right behind you.
you slowly lower your hands.
and there he is, standing a few steps away. cigarette still between his fingers, eyebrows slightly raised.
“what weird little what?” he asks.
your friend’s eyes light up like christmas. traitor.
“nothing!” your friend says and stands up immediately.
pats your shoulder. “have fun!”
then she disappears inside the house before you can physically stop her.
leaving you. alone. with steve.
there’s a long, painful silence.
steve glances at the door your friend disappeared through, then back at you.
“…should i be concerned?” he asks, laughing softly.
“no.” you whisper, eyes staring down at his hand holding the cigarette.
for fuck’s sake, control yourself.
“because it sounded like she was about to expose some kind of secret.”
“there is no secret.” you say quickly.
he tilts his head slightly, then his eyes drift down to the cigarette in his hand.
then back up again. his mouth slowly curves into a grin. “…wait a second.”
you feel dread settle in your stomach. “what?”
“…is this about this?” he holds up the cigarette slightly.
“what? no? what do you mean?” you shake your head immediately, clearly lying.
“because,” he continues, clearly ignoring you, “i’m starting to think that maybe it is.”
“it isn’t.”
“really?”
“really.”
he watches you for another second then deliberately brings the cigarette back to his lips.
slowly. inhales.
your eyes flick down before you can stop them. you look away instantly.
too late.
steve saw it.
he exhales slowly, smoke drifting upward between you.
“…wow.”
“please don’t start.” you groan.
“oh no, i’m absolutely starting,” he says, laughing softly. “this is way too interesting not to start.”
“there is nothing interesting happening right now.” you glare at him.
“really?” he says. “because from where i’m standing it kind of looks like you were staring at me smoking like it was the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen.”
“i was not staring.”
“you kinda were.”
“i was looking in your general direction.” you say.
“for several minutes?”
“maybe you’re just very noticeable.” you cross your arms.
he smirks. “that’s one way to admit it.”
“i did not admit anything.”
he leans casually against the railing beside you. close enough that you can smell the faint mix of smoke and whatever cologne he’s wearing, which does not help your situation.
at all.
“okay,” he says slowly. “let me test a theory here.”
“what theory?” you narrow your eyes.
instead of answering, he lifts the cigarette again. takes another slow drag and watches your face carefully while he does it.
your reaction is immediate, your gaze flicks down again. you pretend not to care this time.
you catch yourself and look away.
steve laughs quietly. “yep. a bad liar and a cigarette apologist.”
“what does that even mean, steve, oh my god. top doing that.” you groan.
“doing what?”
“that thing you just did.”
“smoking?” he asks.
“yes.”
he raises an eyebrow. “so you want me to stop smoking…?”
“yes.”
“because it bothers you.”
“…yes?”
“funny.” he tilts his head, clearly amused.
“what’s so funny?”
“usually when something bothers someone, they don’t stare at it like that.” steve smirks.
“i was not staring.” you glare.
“oh, you totally were, angel.” he grins wider. “i mean, don’t get me wrong, this is great for my ego. i’ve had girls flirt with me before, sure. but i don’t think anyone has ever looked at me like that just because i lit a cigarette.”
you bury your face in your hands again. “i’m leaving.”
“no no no.” he says quickly, laughing. “don’t leave. i’m curious now.”
“you should not be curious.”
“too late.” he smirks.
there’s a pause.
then he asks, almost teasingly. “so, is it the smoking specifically, or is it just me?”
you peek through your fingers.
he’s watching you with the most entertained expression you’ve ever seen.
“steve.”
“yeah?”
“i am begging you to drop this.” you groan.
he thinks for a moment, then shrugs. “…nah.”
and then he lifts the cigarette again just to watch you react.
except this time you roll your eyes at him and leave him behind to sit on the porch step, pretending to look at the yard, but the truth is you’re painfully aware of steve walking in your direction to sit next to you.
the warmth of his shoulder near yours. the faint smell of his cologne, and the thin ribbon of cigarette smoke drifting lazily into the warm night air.
steve watches you for a moment, clearly still entertained by the entire situation, then he lets out a quiet laugh under his breath and says, in one long amused breath. “you know, i’ve been trying to figure out for the last ten minutes whether you’re actually embarrassed about this or if you’re just pretending to be embarrassed while secretly enjoying the fact that i noticed.”
you groan quietly into your hands.
“steve, seriously, if you keep talking about it like that i am actually going to walk back inside and pretend this conversation never happened.”
he chuckles again, shaking his head a little as he taps ash off the cigarette.
“see, that’s the thing, because every time you say you’re going to leave you don’t actually move an inch, which makes me think that maybe you’re curious too.”
“curious about what.” you drop your hands and look at him.
he tilts his head slightly, studying you with that lazy confidence that always seems to follow him everywhere.
then he brings the cigarette up again, inhales slowly, and exhales toward the dark yard before saying, casually but with a hint of a grin. “about whether it actually does something to you when i do this.”
your stomach flips again. it’s not even the cigarettes anymore, it’s him alone.
steve notices.
he lets out a quiet laugh and leans a little closer, elbows resting on his knees, voice dropping slightly as he says in one smooth teasing sentence: “because i’m gonna be honest here, the way your eyes keep drifting back every single time i lift the cigarette makes it very hard for me to believe you’re as unaffected as you keep claiming.”
you shake your head, trying to sound annoyed even though your face feels warm. “you are enjoying this way too much and it’s making you extremely smug.”
“can you blame me?” he says with a crooked smile, flicking ash off the end again.
“you were already confident enough.” you roll your eyes.
“fair.”
there’s a small pause.
the night air is warm and quiet around you, the music from inside muffled now.
steve glances at you again. you glance at him.
he studies your face for a second before saying slowly, “okay, now i’m actually wondering something and you have to promise not to get mad if i ask.”
you narrow your eyes. “that sentence already sounds suspicious.”
he smiles slightly.
“if it really bothers you so much, why are you still sitting here watching me smoke instead of going back inside.”
you open your mouth. then pause, because unfortunately you don’t have a good answer.
steve notices the hesitation and laughs softly. “yeah, that’s kinda what i thought.”
“this is humiliating. you’re pissing me off, i’m leaving.” you sigh dramatically, moving your body to try and get up.
“stay.” he bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “it’s really not.”
“it absolutely is.”
“i mean,” he continues in one long casual breath, glancing down at the cigarette in his hand before looking back at you again. “it could be worse, you could’ve been staring at me like that for some completely weird reason, but at least this one makes me look cool.”
“you are unbelievably full of yourself.” you snort despite yourself.
“you seem to like it.” he pauses.
then he lifts the cigarette again, takes another slow drag, and this time when he exhales the smoke drifts between the two of you before disappearing into the night.
you watch him. steve watches you.
then he says quietly, almost amused, “you’re doing it again.”
you glance up. “you’re talking to me and you’re smoking, i’m obviously gonna be staring at you. stop dragging it, steve.”
your heart is beating faster now. “maybe if you stopped pointing it out every five seconds i’d actually be able to act normal.”
he tilts his head slightly, considering that. then he shrugs.
“maybe i like it that you don’t act normal about it.”
there’s a moment of silence.
then steve crushes the cigarette out gently against the concrete beside the step.
you blink. “you’re done already?”
he glances at you, a slow grin spreads across his face.
“what?” he says, leaning slightly closer, voice warm and teasing all over again. ”were you enjoying the show that much?”
“you’re impossible.” you groan again, covering your face.
“you’re the one who started staring first.” he laughs softly.
you lower your hands and now you’re suddenly very aware of how close he is. closer than before.
the teasing expression in his eyes has softened into something a little more focused.
his gaze drops briefly to your mouth. then back to your eyes.
when he speaks again, his voice is quieter. “you know something?”
“what?”
he leans just a little closer. close enough that you can feel his breath when he talks.
“the look you get when i smoke,” he says slowly, “is pretty much the exact same look you’re giving me right now.”
“steve-” your breath catches.
“yeah?” he smiles faintly.
you don’t even remember deciding to move.
one second you’re staring at him, the next your hand slides into the front of his shirt and you pull him forward.
steve barely has time to look surprised before your mouth crashes into his.
and then he’s kissing you back, instantly, like he’s been waiting for it.
his hand comes up to your jaw, steadying you as the kiss deepens, and your other hand curls into his shirt while he pulls you closer on the step.
it’s messy at first, breathless. then it slows.
his mouth moves against yours, warm, and when his tongue brushes yours you can taste the faint lingering bitterness of cigarette smoke mixed with mint gum.
your brain goes completely fuzzy.
your fingers slide into his hair and he lets out a soft laugh against your mouth, murmuring between kisses, “okay, yeah, that reaction definitely confirms my theory.”
you mumble against his lips: “you’re still talking way too much.”
he grins, then kisses you again.
deeper this time.
one hand sliding to your waist as he pulls you closer, and the taste of smoke lingers every time your mouths meet again, making your stomach flip the same way it did the first time you watched him light the cigarette.
when you finally pull back slightly, both of you a little breathless, steve locks eyes with you and says with a quiet amused smile, “so just to be clear… next time i light a cigarette, this is the kind of reaction i should expect.”
you glare at him weakly.
“steve, this is the last time you’ll ever kiss me in your life.” you say.
he laughs softly. “yeah, no. no it’s not.”
steve is still smiling when you lean back slightly, your hand still tangled in the front of his shirt.
he looks at you like he’s trying very hard not to laugh again, which makes you narrow your eyes.
“if you say anything smug right now,” you warn softly, “i’m actually leaving this time.”
steve raises his hands slightly in surrender, but the grin doesn’t leave his face.
“i wasn’t gonna say anything smug,” he says, voice warm with amusement, “i was just thinking that this might officially be the weirdest flirting technique that’s ever worked for me.”
“don’t ruin the moment.” you roll your eyes.
“sorry.”
note: this is so random and short but ????? am i right? he looks so good smoking, good lord. GO REQUEST SOMETHING FOR ME TO WRITE.
