#Steve harrington fluff

[skeltnwrites]

Break the Bed In— ⋆₊˚⌂

The first morning in your new home is slow and soft, spent tangled up in bed with Steve.

mdni 18+ fem/afab reader, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), switch!steve/reader, the fluffiest sweetest smut you'll ever read | 4k

a/n: this is dedicated to all my single ladies. happy valentine’s day you freaks! coincidentally i also moved houses yesterday so this feels extra fitting

── .✦

You wake well-rested; like every inch of you was unraveled and woven back together while you dreamt. Your wrist hangs off the side of the mattress, fingernails brushing the carpet. Your bed frame is a heap of wooden slats across the room, as is most of the furniture currently in your house. 

Steve’s arm is warm under your neck, his breath a steady string behind you. You flip over, your ear landing in the crease of his elbow. 

He’s softer in sleep. Cheek squished to his shoulder, lips pressed to a pout. He’s boyish in a lot of ways still, but growing less so the longer you know him. He’s got stubble and sun spots and smile lines. And you love each of those things, swearing he’s getting more and more handsome with them every day. Blame it on the lingering moving high but today the feeling triples. 

There’s a unique kind of joy in buying your first home together. It’s perpetual surprise, popping up in the most mundane of moments. It’s picking taupe over eggshell for the living room and it’s paying extra for matching key designs and it’s waking up beside your favorite person on a mattress on the floor. 

You stamp your lips into his skin in good morning, and again because it’s a satisfying warmth on your mouth. He smells sweet, like your new body wash since he couldn’t find his last night. You decide you like the scent on his skin better than yours. 

The quiet is strange but the farthest thing from unwelcome. No neighbors or roommates or parents to wake to. Just the soft hush of rain against the roof and the swish of your ankles underneath the blankets. 

Your fingers chase the hair from Steve’s eye socket, your thumb perching behind his ear. His pupils shift under his eyelids and he sighs the softest little sound you’ve ever heard. 

It’s cruel to wake him, certainly. He did most of the heavy lifting yesterday and was up organizing later than you were. But you’re feeling especially selfish this morning, tickling him awake with a swarm of several more arm kisses. 

There are worse things to wake up to, you reason with yourself as Steve hums, his fingers curling against the sheet. He’s quiet for a long beat and you decide maybe it's better to let him rest. 

But his lips part and he rasps out, “Mornin’.” 

“Mornin’,” you parrot. Your grin is immediate, spanning ear to ear with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. 

He smushes your face to his bare collar, the heel of his free hand climbing up his cheek. 

You turn to watch his eyes unstick themselves of sleep and continue to wonder how you got so lucky. You press another kiss to his chin. Another to the coarse thatch of hair on his chest. Another to his shoulder. You just can’t help yourself today. 

“It’s so quiet,” he murmurs, hand crawling under your shirt in a long splay up your spine. 

You beam, weaving a leg under his heavy one. “I know.” 

“We have a house.” 

“I know.” You sound as excited as you can be without yelling. 

He hums, the corners of his smile creeping wider, a hand steady on your back. 

Your finger twists a curl at his nape idly. “What’re you thinking?” 

Steve’s gaze flickers from the ceiling to you, eyes like old pennies under the clouds coloring your room a gloomy shade of gray. “Nothin’,” he whispers, lips skimming the corner crease of your eye. “Just happy.” 

You hum, one part agreement, two parts delight. “Can we get a dog now?” 

He huffs out a chuckle, vibrating the place where your chests kiss. “I can’t believe it took you this long to ask.” 

“‘Cause you always say no.” 

“‘Cause it didn’t make sense before.”

“So, we can?” 

He has a hard time pretending to hate the look you show him. Your jutted lip and raised brows show no mercy. He wants to say yes, of course he does, but he’s not as impulsive as he used to be. He’s a homeowner. His responsibilities extend beyond just himself now. 

“Can we unpack the house first? Then we’ll talk about it.”

You flick his collarbone. “Excuses. Excuses.” 

If there’s a fond way to roll your eyes at someone, he’s figured out how to do it. Steve knows you’re all drama. And he knows you’re over the moon with or without the promise of a dog. 

You bend out of his embrace and regret sitting the second you’re up. Your back aches twice its weight, muscles sore with yesterday's labor. 

But Steve relishes his view. You're in nothing but underwear and one of his shirts, the dip of your lower back exposed where the hem has scrunched up. He might buy you new pajamas if he thought you’d actually wear them or if he didn’t adore just how lovely his clothes look on you. 

And he doesn’t give you a chance to ask, his fingers automatically massaging a path up your aching shoulder. You squirm but you love it. You kiss his hand in thank you and carry it around your waist to play with. 

“Don’t get up,” he says. Pleads, practically.

You face him. “But we have sooo much to unpack.” 

“It can wait,” he argues. He steals your entwined hands for a persuasive set of kisses. One to each knuckle and then a flurry up your arm. And his hands are an equally convincing force, coercing you right back onto his chest. 

You’re putty, melting into his hot hands like candle wax. You throw a leg over his waist and settle down in a more comfortable straddle. The possibility of you falling back asleep jumps an alarming percentage. 

You bolster your chin on his sternum and meet his eyes. “But I really want that dog.” 

“More than me?” 

You hum debatably into his puckered lips.

He smiles hard and forgets about kissing you, pinching your side until you yelp. Your giggles spill through twin smiles, overlapping each other in layers. “Might have to put the house back on the market if you keep being so mean to me," he says.

“I’ll be nicer if we go look at the shelter today.” 

“Mm. Not letting this go are we?” 

You shake your head.

He pecks the corner of your mouth. “We’ll go–”

You see the shift in his expression before he even says anything. Your eyebrows jump in excitement. 

“If,” he tacks on quickly, “we finish downstairs today. Hmm?” 

“Mhmm. Easy.” 

“Easy,” he repeats. But not one lick of him believes you. It wasn’t easy carrying so many of your boxes yesterday and it certainly wasn’t easy getting you to pack everything up in the first place. 

But ultimately he’s amused. And he thinks you’re especially pretty when you’re confident. So Steve kisses you like he has something to prove. 

He gropes the swell of your ass mid-kiss and while it’s not unusual for him to do so playfully, you can’t perceive it in any way innocent when you’re pressed up against his morning wood. 

“Steve,” you scold lightly. 

He hums against your mouth, a faux sound of innocence. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 

You break apart with a wet smack. “Gotta unpack.”

“Have all day,” he says, words all smushed together so he can sew his lips right back to yours. 

“Mm-mmm.” You turn your cheek, but the hands on your waist don’t let you go far. “‘S, like, ten-thirty already.” 

He works a slow line past your jaw, spending extra time on the sensitive skin around your throat. Devious. 

“Steve.” 

“Hmm?” 

You push off his chest until you're sitting upright on his thighs.

His heart tick tick ticks under the flat of your palm. His pupils are wide, mouth kiss-bruised a bright shade of red. He’s so, so dreamy, all flushed and starry-eyed like this. He’s got you wrapped around his finger just as much as you’ve strung him with yours.  

You sigh. “Why do I let you win?” 

He smirks that stupid victorious smirk you love so much. “‘Cause you love me.”

“You’re so annoying.” 

“Me?” he laughs. 

“Mhmm. And a hypocrite.” 

The hand clasping your hip pressures you back down, the other cradling one side of your jaw. “A hypocrite?” he whispers. 

“Mhmm.” 

He fills the tiny space between you, half-lidded and heavy-handed in a fervent kiss. He’s not rough but he is eager. Open-mouthed and persistent like he’s trying to weld his face to yours. 

You meet him with the same intensity. It’s instinctual. The push-pull of your bodies, like you’re more one entity than two. You’ve been dating Steve long enough to know what he likes and what he doesn’t. You’ve made out more times than you can count. And he’s a simple man. You’ve got him hard, properly hard, in a matter of minutes. 

His bottom lip is pinned between your teeth, your chests rising and falling in sync. You grind back on his crotch and his breath hitches. 

“Ahh,” he pants. “Can I…” 

You don’t know what he’s trying to ask but you nod anyway. It’s not hard to piece together, though; not when he’s fisting the fabric of your shirt like it’s causing him physical pain to see you wear it. 

You help him hitch it up your back and down your arms to be tossed out of the way. Steve quickly stops you from lying back down. His large palms spread wide against your tummy, thumbs kneading either side of your belly button. He roves up your ribs attentively, studying how your skin pulls and dips beneath his fingers. 

You swear you feel him down to the divots in his fingerprints, the slow speed of his hands tantalizing. 

His thumbs pause at your breastbone, sweeping up and around your nipples as if he’s never played with them before. They perk up easily, to Steve's obvious enjoyment. 

He’s told you a thousand times how pretty you are, naked and not. And he doesn’t have to say it now for you to know he’s thinking it. 

He stares at your chest, your tummy, the soft stretch of your thighs, each like they’ve been carved from marble, destined to end up behind a glass at some museum he’s never been to. 

You get shy eventually, needling past his hold to hide in the slope of his neck. Your mouth peppers lazy kisses where it can reach. Soft ones, not nearly as greedy as before. You work your way up, suckling long enough to leave a couple of red rings in your wake. 

Steve's hips shift under yours as you arrive back at his mouth. He’s getting antsy, the finger fidgeting with the hem of your panties no longer satisfied. So maybe you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are when he holds your hips down and bucks up into your clothed cunt. 

Your jaw slackens, a broken moan dampened against his mouth. 

“Can be loud ‘s you want now,” he assures. His hands roam, around your ass and back up your sides. Soothing, but so feather-light you shudder. 

“Still have neighbors.” 

He hums in half agreement. Yes, you have neighbors, but their bedroom wall isn’t attached to yours. He imagines you’d have to scream bloody murder for the neighbors to hear you here. 

You slink back up to sit and Steve’s fingers fall to your hips. Your pelvis rolls into his. Again when he shudders. 

“Shit,” he sighs. 

“Feel good?”

His eyes disappear behind his lashes, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. “Mhmm.” 

You continue to work him through his briefs, a slow back and forth forming a hot puddle between your own legs. With one hand propped against his sternum, you force your eyes over to the stacks upon stacks of moving boxes in the room. 

“Condoms… condoms.” 

Steve almost misses your mumbling– and to his credit, you’re talking more to yourself than him– but he blinks out of his daze and sighs vaguely at the nearest box. “Fuck. Bathroom, maybe.” 

Not ideal. 

“Think I have one in my purse,” you remember, swaying heavily to the side to scan the floor beside the mattress. 

Steve’s hands fly to your waist to balance you as he huffs. “You mean your bottomless pit?” 

“Don’t shame me. It comes in handy.” The bottomless pit in question is spotted, half buried under yesterday’s clothes across the room. “One sec’.”

Steve grumbles as you climb off of him. But his heart turns in his chest as you saunter off. His love for you is always there. It’s the shape of you as you crouch, how you tip your purse upside down and fan the contents out across the floor with a hum. 

“Aha.” You pop up, waving a glossy, square packet as you skip your way back. “My trusty bottomless pit saves the day.”

You clamber back on top of him clumsily, planting yourself in his lap like he’s no more fragile than the kitchen barstool. 

Steve groans under his breath. You’ve got him really wound up and his patience is thinning. 

Your hips roll into his again, the curve of his cock a strong silhouette through two sticky layers of fabric. You scoot back on his thighs and palm him with modest pressure. 

“Babe,” he shudders, thumbs pawing the sides of your underwear again. “Please.” 

“So impatient,” you tease. 

You watch him intently. How his nostrils flare the second you break the seal between his hot skin and the band of his underwear. How his eyebrows crinkle together as you push the cotton down his thighs. 

His cock bobs free before you take it gently by the base. Steve’s not just a pretty face, and he’s not cocky for no reason. He’s well-endowed, a dusty shade of pink blended tan into the dark curls at his hilt. 

“Fuck, baby.” 

He shifts his gaze past you because he’s certain if you make eye contact with him this’ll be the shortest sex of his life. And even the half-blurry blob of you in his peripherals is still too fucking enticing. He forces his eyes up at the popcorn ceiling and traces the shapes in his mind. 

You spread the pearl of precum down a vein on the side of his cock, using the slip to tug him a handful of times. The slick dissolves, and your hand catches twice before you’re getting ready to spit in it.  

But Steve whines, “Need to feel you.” 

Your hand stops but the pad of your pinky trails a sneaky line from tip to base. “My hands not enough for you, Stevie?” 

“Not gonna– mm– last.” 

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” 

You mean it rhetorically but he quickly shakes his head no. You forget how much you enjoy being in charge until you have Steve squirming under you. 

You stabilize yourself on his chest, hiking one leg up at a time until you’re underwear have been flung to the floor. The slick between your folds is more palpable as you sit back on his thighs, hot skin to hot skin. 

His eyelids flutter closed as you roll the condom on. He’s flushed up to his ears, breath nimble off his open mouth. 

“Ready?” 

He nods like you’ve asked something outrageously silly. 

You guide the head of his cock up to your folds, sinking down in one tedious stride. It’s a good kind of ache, scratching the deepest part of your tummy. 

His hips jerk involuntarily as you release your full weight onto them, his nails leaving crescents on your skin. “‘M not gonna last,” he warns again. 

“I’ll go slow.” 

It’s not much consolation. No matter what you do to him, he’s not gonna last. You’re too damn irresistible for your own good. 

You rock your hips forward and back in a continuous cycle. The pace is indulgent, just slow enough to make things last. Your eyes unfocus, your head tipping back. Every drag squeezes the coil in your stomach tighter. 

Steve’s eyes flick to yours, his voice wavering as he mumbles, “Tease me too much.”

“I do?”

“Mhmm.”

You smile softly at him and his eyes jump away. He’s drawing loopy patterns into the meat of your thigh to distract himself. And it doesn’t help when you cover his hand and sweep your thumb across every digit. He’s so focused on not blowing his load that he can’t even speak. 

You pause your rhythm and hum to yourself before continuing. “Know what I just realized.”

“Hmm?”

“Forgot the shower curtain.”

Steve exhales hard, words sticking to his teeth.“We’ll get a new one.” 

“I really liked that one.”

He can’t think straight long enough to tell if you’re purposely trying to distract him or not and he doesn’t care all that much either way. He just needs you to be the same level of fucked that he is. 

His hand trembles over to your pubic bone, thumb snaking right up to your clit. 

You nod as he presses. Right there. 

He rubs slow circles, a spark of pleasure each time he closes a loop. 

“Fuck,” you drawl simultaneously. 

You laugh, blissfully unaware as your muscles clamp around his cock. 

But Steve’s fingers pause on your clit, his other hand tense at your hip. “Don’t,” he shudders out. 

You close your mouth, a soft little apology grin that sends Steve’s stomach flipping. He’s so fucking in love it’s not even funny. 

“Sit on my face.”

You hum, so high on cloud nine you’re sure you’ve misheard him. 

“Let me taste you.”

Your breath stutters. He’s serious. 

“Come here,” he’s pushing you up and off him before you have much of a chance to process it. “Wanna make you feel good.” 

Your cheeks burn a hot shade of embarrassment, your tongue suddenly too heavy in your mouth. You wriggle up his body, guided by the relentless hands on the backs of your thighs. Steve’s eaten you out, but not like this. 

“Steve,” you manage. 

“What?” He knows you better than he’s known anyone in his life. He feels your shaking and he hears the rampant doubts coursing your mind. “I want to,” he promises, pressing a long, love-packed kiss to the soft flesh of your inner thigh. 

You’re unconvinced. You’re certain you’ll break his face the second you sit down. You’ll be so mortified you’ll have to break up with him if he doesn’t first. You’ll have to sell the house before you’ve even unpacked–

“Please?”

He’s not trying to be pushy or even funny as he bats his eyes. He just so genuinely craves to see you unravel in the same way you’ve spun him around. And yeah, he has a sweet set of brown eyes. Sue him. He loves you too much to look at you with any less adoration. 

You nod emphatically. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve been this nervous about sex with Steve, but you’ve learned just about everything there is to know about him since. You trust him in every capacity, especially in bed.   

He nips his way up your thigh, pulling you lower and lower until his breath is hot on your cunt. Steve licks a wide stripe up to your clit, sucking before swirling his tongue around the sensitive hood. And then his mouth starts lapping you like you’re his last meal. 

Your fist jerks, fingers knotted through the hair on his scalp, and he moans. You don’t hear it over the wet smacking as much as you feel it, the vibrations sending pleasure through you like a pulse. 

His tongue drives you to a mess. He’d push you completely over the edge if you didn’t stop him.

“Okay, okay,” you gasp, pushing up onto your knees. “We’re even.” 

He smirks and strokes down the backs of your calves. “Are we competing?” 

“You seem to think so.” 

He shimmies to a sit with an arm around your waist and bestows you with a fleeting kiss, lips washed with the taste of your juices. “Lay down.”

How the fuck could you say no to such a pretty face? 

You scooch down, face up on the sheets. Steve parts you by the ankles and crawls up your body, planting kisses like seeds. His teeth graze the inside of your wrist before he stretches it up and flat against the mattress above your head. 

Your fingers thread through his, his other hand steadying his cock at your entrance. He swipes the head up and down your wet folds before sliding in with a groan. There’s less resistance this time, a fluid in and out to his hips. 

His thrusts are languid. He indulges more closely in the taste of your mouth and the balmy feel of your waist. 

The winding in your tummy resumes, your fingers naturally finding your clit while Steve rocks into you. A heavier thrust and your lips detach, Steve’s rehoming to the skin beneath your jaw. He picks up his pace, puffing and panting into your neck in short bursts. 

Your legs wrap around his, the heel of your foot digging into his lower back. “Mm– Steve.”

“Yeah?” he huffs. 

“Mhmm.”

If the sounds you’re making are anything to go by, Steve thinks he’s doing a pretty good job. And you know he’s just as close to cumming. You know his little sounds and twisty little expressions like the back of your hand. How his stomach tenses and his breath catches. 

You burn the entirety of this to your brain, rubbing yourself faster, more in time with his movements. 

“‘M close,” he says, desperate and hopeful that you are too. 

You nod, focused on the high climbing higher each second. 

His hips stutter when you clench around him. The coil releases and you come undone simultaneously. 

“Fuck, ah– fuck,” he whines, sharp but breathy in your ear.  

Your fingers slow and his thrusts wane and the pleasure softens. Steve wobbles down onto you as gently as he can, taking your interlaced hand between your bodies. Your hearts kiss with each rise and fall of your chests. Steve mouths over the most accessible bit of skin under your ear, thumb sweeping the gentlest curves around your face. 

You exhale into his crown, raking a hand through the dark mop of curls damp at his nape. Your other eases down his back, savoring the contraction of his muscles as he breathes. You travel down the curve of his ass and give him a firm squeeze. “How’s your ass? Still sore?” 

He huffs at you, nose crushed to your neck. “I fall down one flight of stairs and I never hear the end of it.” 

“I told you to be careful.” 

“I was being– whatever.” His thumb continues to caress your jaw, his lips idle on your neck. 

This is Steve’s favorite part of sex. To hold and to be held, easing off a high that’s miles better than a good smoke. There’s nothing greater. 

“Should I check for bruises?” 

“If you kiss ‘em better.” 

Your chest aches with the sweet swell of laughter. Steve’s your person. You realize it time and time again. 

He peels himself off like you're double-sided tape. His hair’s still crazy despite your finger-combing and his eyes are just as heavy as they were when he woke up. He slides out of you with a hiss, sitting back to knot the condom and toss it toward a pile of bubble wrap. 

He looks back at you fondly. “Shower?” 

You shake your head. “Just lay with me.” 

“Downstairs isn’t gonna unpack itself, you know.”

“Shut up.” You palm his chest until he lays and you throw an arm across his middle. “This was your evil plan all along.” 

He chuckles, taking your hand to massage between both of his. “I’m just the worst aren’t I?” 

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 11.7k words

summary: in which you and steve have the brilliant (and slightly insane) idea to try to get your bosses to date because maybe it’ll make your jobs and lives easier 

warnings: modern!au, explicit language, one too many clueless references, drinking/alcohol mentions (drunk!reader and drunk!steve moment toward the end)

note: i didn’t expect this to become as long as it did but here we are now<3 set it up nation please rise! this is very much inspired by that movie (that is in fact one of my favorites) and i was rewatching it a few months ago and it made me want to do something similar-ish. enjoy<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: i bet you ten bucks my night is going worse than yours 

YOU: that’s definitely impossible so i will happily take that bet and your money 

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: remember how i’ve been doing todd’s son’s science project for the past week?

YOU: yeah because the kid sucks at science

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: i finally finished it and gave it to todd today. he hated it and ripped it to shreds right in front of my face (i kinda blame this dumbass juice diet he’s on for him being much more of an asshole than usual). anyway, now i’m gonna have to spend all night doing a new project 

YOU: holy fuck

YOU: you win

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: i would like cash please 

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: what bullshit are you being subjected to right now? 

YOU: at 8 kristen said she didn’t want dinner because she wasn’t going to be “staying late tonight.” and then twenty minutes ago she asked me where her dinner was and gave me the most annoyed look when i said i didn’t have it….

YOU: now i’m waiting in the lobby for a delivery guy to get here with pasta :)

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: ouch

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: want some company down there?

YOU: are you just asking that because you want your money?

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: maybe….

YOU: evil man!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“The joke’s on you because I don’t have ten bucks right now, so you’ll have to wait until tomorrow for your money,” You told Steve when he walked into the lobby. 

“I was lying. I don’t care about the money. I really came down here to keep you company,” He said as he joined you by the front door. 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. “Oh, whatever.”

He only smiled at you. “So, how much longer until the delivery guy gets here?”

You took another look at your phone and then showed it to Steve. “Less than a minute. His car’s down the street.”

“How annoyed is Kristen?”

“She got pulled into a Zoom call with the team in LA right after scolding me, so I’m ninety-five percent sure she hasn’t noticed I’m gone yet.”

“That’s good.”

“Is Todd gone for the night?” 

You kind of had a feeling that you already knew the answer to your question because Steve looked more relaxed than normal; his white button-up shirt was untucked from his nice black dress pants and the tie that was around his neck and tucked under the collar of his shirt was loosened too. 

“Yeah, he left right after destroying the science project.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe that happened.”

Steve let out a tired sigh that you were certain wouldn’t be his last of the night. “What’s another suitable project for a fifth grader?”

“Sorry, but I’m not brushed up on the current fifth-grade education system,” You joked, giving him a teasing smile. When he didn’t match it, you held up your hands in mock surrender. “Okay, sorry, I’ll save all my jokes for when this is no longer a problem for you.”

His lips twitched upward in the smallest amused smile. “How many do you have?”

“Oh, a full stand-up set pretty much, but I’ll save it for tomorrow,” You said, trying to make your voice sound as serious as possible. 

He smiled wider then and seeing him look at least a little less stressed felt like a success in your book. You knew that he would’ve done the same for you if the roles were reversed in this moment, and there were many times when he had done the same. Made a joke when you didn’t even know you needed to hear one, but it still made your day better, or told you a random story about nothing when you needed a breather from thinking about work. 

This friendship you two had made your job feel a thousand times more bearable, and you were so glad that you met him eight months ago. That abrupt introduction had been another middle-of-the-night lobby situation like this one; when it seemed like everyone in the building was done and gone for the day, except for you two and your workaholic bosses. Both of you were waiting for meals from the same diner, which you didn’t even realize until your separate delivery drivers almost mixed up the orders. It was a mix-up that was luckily fixed before it descended into a bigger issue with your respective bosses. 

You two ended up talking a lot on the elevator ride up to your floors and found out just how much you two had in common— both of you being assistants to insane bosses— and the rest was history. 

“Thank you. That’s very considerate,” Steve said to you now, placing a dramatic hand over his heart, which made you laugh.

Before you could say something to keep this playful banter going, you noticed the car pulling up in front of the building. You met the delivery guy halfway and let out a quick “Thanks” when he handed over the food to you. You did a quick look through of what was in the bag and smiled in relief when you saw that everything was there. 

“How long do you think you’re gonna have to stay tonight?” Steve asked you on the elevator ride back up. 

“No idea,” You took a look down at your phone. “She’ll probably eat this once her Zoom call ends in thirty minutes, and then hopefully want to leave for the night.”

“Nice, then you’ll actually be able to get more than four hours of sleep.”

“Fingers crossed.”

The elevator came to its stop on the fifteenth floor and the doors opened, which marked your cue to leave. 

You took a few steps and then turned around to face Steve again, giving him a quick wave. “Good luck tonight, Harrington.”

“Thank you. I’m gonna need it,” He responded, waving back as the doors finished closing. 

You avoided looking at all of the empty cubicles that took over the space in the office— desks that had been left hours ago— and simply went to your desk that sat right outside Kristen’s office. You could faintly hear her talking through the shut glass door. 

You used the downtime to busy yourself with random work rather than doing anything remotely interesting or simply taking a break and doing nothing. You double-checked what Kristen’s calendar schedule looked like for the next few weeks and made sure that everything was in order, and then you went to your work email although nothing new had come in in the last thirty minutes. 

When the time hit 10:03pm and you heard the door open and then saw Kristen walk out, you stood up from your chair and grabbed the bag with the food off your desk. 

“Hi, I have your dinner here.”

She gave you a confused look and it was then that you noticed that her coat was on and her purse was hanging on her shoulder. “I don’t want that. It was supposed to be an early night, remember? I’ll see you in the morning.”

You nodded immediately at her words instead of doing anything else. You, of course, did not tell her that she had asked you to get her food, and you of course definitely did not ask her if ten o’clock could really be considered an “early night” given that the night was pretty much already halfway done and it was basically Friday. 

Nope, you didn’t say any of that, because even though Kristen was nothing but contradictory at times, which made your job absolutely suck, you still liked having one at the end of the day. 

“Okay, got it. See you tomorrow,” You told her, forcing a smile. 

She nodded at you and then her eyes fell to her phone as she walked off. 

You let out a tired sigh once you were certain she was out of earshot and then sat down once again. You could’ve grabbed your own jacket and bag and followed suit, leaving for the night and getting more than four hours of sleep just as Steve had mentioned and you had crossed your fingers in the elevator hoping it would happen. 

However, you didn’t slip on your coat or reach under your desk to grab your bag. Instead, you pulled out your phone.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

YOU: kristen’s gone for the night

YOU: do you want help with the science project?

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: please yes. definitely. thank you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You and Steve stared at the blank tri-fold poster board as you two ate the Alfredo pasta that had been meant for Kristen. 

The idea for the project had already been decided; it was some sort of chemical reaction thing, seeing how food coloring and dish soap react to being put in different types of milk. Steve showed you a video about it and it actually seemed really cool. 

After finishing the pasta, doing the experiment itself took less than thirty minutes because everything you needed for it was luckily spread about both of your break rooms and then it was just a matter of typing everything up and making the poster board look nice. 

“So, where does this situation lie on the worst things Todd has ever made you do? Is it breaking the top three?” You asked as you stood next to the printer on Steve’s desk and he typed away on his laptop. 

“Definitely,” He didn't hesitate to answer. “I think this takes the third spot that was previously held by him making me drive to the airport two hours away to pick up his mom.”

“Fuck, I always forget about that,” You told him. “If we knew each other when that happened a year ago, I would’ve happily gone with you. I love a long car ride.” 

“And I would’ve definitely taken you up on that offer because that was the worst drive ever.”

“God, how did you survive before we knew each other existed eight months ago?” You asked jokingly and hearing his initial laugh in response made you smile. 

“It was really hard, I honestly don’t know how I managed,” He responded playfully, making you smile wider. “Has your top three with Kristen changed recently?” 

“Nope, the third is the cheese incident, the second is the dog thing, and the first is still all of the shit I had to do the day she interviewed her favorite director for the website.”

You still considered that the worst day you ever had being Kristen’s assistant. She had wanted to make sure that everything was perfect for that interview she had been working for months to get with the infamous Matt Scott, so you had gotten stuck with doing a bunch of tedious tasks. It was still hard for you to look at Skittles and not feel immediate disdain because you had to sort through so many packs of them that day since he weirdly only liked the red and yellow ones. 

The only good thing that came out of that day was that the interview went really well and it was what skyrocketed the website into how big it currently was, and it was still growing. 

You remembered when you randomly stumbled upon the website three years ago. It was a mix of reviews, essays, and articles discussing movies and television shows, all of which interested you a lot, and you liked the website so much that you continuously kept up with it. And the day that you found out that the woman behind the entire thing needed an assistant, you jumped at the opportunity. It didn’t take you too long to realize that you hated being an assistant, but you were really good at it and you also really loved being a part of that environment; surrounded by other people who loved movies and TV and were actually making a living out of writing about it. 

“I just learned that Todd loves one of the horror movies that that director did. ‘The Damned’ something I can’t remember the full title of it,” Steve said, not looking up from his laptop and continuing to type as he talked. He was a weirdly good multitasker; you’d learned that early on in your friendship, but it still always really impressed you. 

“The Damned Rabbit,” You told him as you started cutting out the pictures on the pages you just printed. “That’s Kristen’s favorite too. I can usually stomach most horror movies, but that one was way too gory for me.” 

“Do you think I would like it?”

“Didn’t you say that you got scared watching the Goosebumps show when you were a kid?” 

Steve looked away from his laptop and at you then. “I honestly don’t remember telling you that, but yeah that’s true.” 

You shrugged. “I remember all conversations we have regarding any TV shows or movies.” 

His head tilted a bit and he gave you a look that you didn’t take notice of because you were focused on properly cutting out the pictures. “And I’m assuming you’re using that information to judge me and my taste.” 

“No, of course not,” You told him, making your voice sound completely serious, and then you smiled. “I already know you have shit taste in movies, so there’s no need for me to collect any more data about that.”  

He placed an overdramatic hand over his heart. “Ouch, that hurts. Truly. Badly.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you finally looked at him. “Sorry, that was mean.”

“Very much so,” Steve agreed with a nod. “Please take that back and admit that I have the best taste ever.”   

You shook your head as you smiled. “I’d rather not lie to you right now.”  

He playfully rolled his eyes at you and then went back to focusing on his laptop. He finished typing out everything and then printed it all and you helped him cut everything out once you were done with the pictures. You two then set everything up in what felt like good places on the tri-fold and glued it down. The project definitely looked rushed, but it also looked like a fifth grader did it, so in your eyes it was perfect. And by the time one in the morning rolled around, both your and Steve’s tired eyes and lack of sleep thought it was the best thing either of you had ever done. 

“I can’t wait until Christmas comes and he goes to New Jersey to visit his family,” Steve said as you two began the cleanup process. “I think I’m gonna go into hibernation for that entire week.”

You nodded in agreement, balling up scraps of paper and tossing them into the garbage and deciding against reminding him that Christmas was over two months away, and then you remembered something. “Kristen’s also from New Jersey.”

“Small world,” Steve said. “Y’know our bosses are actually really alike. Even aside from them being assholes a lot of the time, they kinda have a lot in common. From the same state, same favorite movie, same favorite food place.”

You nodded along to his words again, thinking about the fact that them both loving that small mom-and-pop diner twenty minutes away was the reason why you and Steve had met in the first place. “Yeah, you’re right.”  

“Honestly, they’d probably be perfect for each other,” Steve joked with a laugh. 

And even though you knew he was joking, you immediately didn’t see it that way. 

“Oh my god,” You stopped what you were doing and looked at Steve, who was now looking at you very confused. “You’re right.” 

His eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head. “I was kidding.” 

“Yes, I know you were, but you’re actually so right. They would be perfect for each other,” You told him. “We should set them up.” 

Steve only shook his head again. “Alright, I think the sleep deprivation is getting to you because you’re saying insane things right now. We’re not gonna get our bosses to date.”

You ignored his words. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of this idea before. It’s just like Clueless.”

“Okay, I have no idea what we’re talking about anymore.” 

“You haven’t seen Clueless?”

“No.”

“Wow, and you wonder why I say your taste in movies is bad,” You said and then shook your head. “So, there’s this one part where the main girl decides to set up two of her teachers because one of them is a hard grader. And once he’s happy and in love, he starts giving all of the students good grades and whatever, whatever. Anyway, all of that to say, if we set up our bosses and they’re happy and in love with each other then they probably won’t be assholes to us anymore.” 

After a few moments of considering your words, Steve nodded. “Honestly, that’s kind of a good idea.”

“Exactly,” You said and smiled. You were still very tired, but you were now also hit with a random burst of energy at the thought of your job maybe becoming a lot less annoying.

“So, how do we do this?” Steve asked.

You considered his question for a second. “Okay, so as far as we both know they’ve never met each other, which means that we need to get them to meet and we need to give them a good meet cute.” 

“Okay…” Steve started, thinking of something as he sat back down in his desk chair and you leaned back against the desk. He looked up at you. “What about the elevator? Maybe we can figure out a way to get them stuck in it together? That’s a classic ‘meet cute,’ right?”

“That’s good, but it doesn’t feel like enough,” You said, looking away from him and trying to think of romcoms you liked, and then it hit you. “Oh, what if we got them on the kiss cam at like a basketball game or something?” 

The amused look that Steve gave you in response was immediate. “Okay, now I definitely know that the sleep deprivation is getting to you because doing that would be impossible.” 

“Yeah, but maybe not if we…” You trailed off, hoping that the rest of the idea would come to you, but it didn’t. “Shit, you’re right. It would be impossible. Elevator it is.” 

Steve nodded. “I actually know the maintenance guy that works here, so it’ll probably be easy to get Todd and Kristen stuck together.” 

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “How do you know the maintenance guy?”

“Long story,” He answered and you decided against questioning him further on it right then. 

“If it wasn’t one in the morning, I’d love to hear that,” You said, and then you almost asked him when you two should put this plan into motion, but you realized something. “Wait, shit, we can’t just get Kristen and Todd into an elevator and hope for the best. We need to, like, ‘plant some seeds’ first. Make them aware of each other and these few things that we know they have in common.” 

“Oh, okay, yeah, that makes sense.”

“So we just need to subtly mention to both of them that they’re from the same state and that they have the same favorite movie and food place,” You continued. 

Steve’s confused look returned. “And how do we do that?”

“Great question,” You said and for a second you considered trying to think of an answer right then, but your brain was too tired to come up with any ideas. “I’m not sure yet, but we’ll figure it out.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: todd liked the science project this time

YOU: thank god 

YOU: i hope that means he’ll be extra nice to you today<3

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: solid joke

YOU: thanks. i try

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: do you think you’re gonna have to stay late again tonight? 

YOU: i am almost certain of it (sadly)

YOU: kristen’s been extra stressed today which means extra scary which means i live here now

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: ouch 

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: have you thought more about how we should do this set up thing?

YOU: no. i’ve had like a thousand things thrown at me since getting here at eight and i haven’t had time to think about anything else

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: same here 

YOU: wow we’re really good at this

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: haha i agree

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The printer was on its last few days of life. You were certain of it, but you just needed it to survive a few more minutes before it completely croaked out on you. 

“Please just ten more pages and then I promise you can go into retirement.” 

“Are you talking to the printer again?” Steve asked from where he was currently sitting at your desk. 

After Todd left for the night at ten, Steve showed up at your floor, knowing that Kristen had been gone for the last hour, but you were still stuck in the building and working on preparing everything for a meeting on Monday.

You looked over at him. “Sometimes Jerry needs some words of encouragement.” 

“Got it. That makes sense,” He responded teasingly with a nod. 

“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm tonight, Steven,” You said as you turned your focus back on the printer, and Jerry was printing out the final few pages. 

“Doesn’t me helping you right now cancel out the sarcasm?”

You promptly shook your head. “Not after the science project last night.”

“Alright, that’s fair,” He responded and once you sat down next to him after everything was finally printed out, he looked at the stack of papers in your hand. “How many packets do you have to make?”

“Twenty,” You answered. “And then I need to do the name cards and set everything up in the conference room.”

“Okay. Let me get half of the stack,” He said and you handed over half of the papers in your hand. 

You two easily fell into a routine for the next thirty minutes, a comfortable silence lingering as you focused on the mundane task at hand and let your mind wander a bit. The initial excitement you had toward the “set up” idea had worn off by the morning and instead your non-sleep deprived brain was now thinking about it all from a much more logical standpoint.

“Do you think it would actually work?” You asked once you two were in the conference room, you placing name cards down and Steve setting out the packets. “Us trying to set them up?”

He gave you an amused smile. “You’re second-guessing things already? I thought I would be the one to do that.”

“I don’t know,” You shrugged. “I’ve just started thinking that maybe it will be a waste of time.”

You decided against adding that your reasoning for thinking that way was because your and Steve’s life wasn’t a movie and maybe this idea did sound a bit too good to actually end up working as well as it did when it was a plot point in any film. And the thought of Kristen somehow figuring out what you and him were doing and firing you because of it kind of scared you too. 

“Okay, yeah, maybe it won’t work,” Steve said. “But, why not try, right?” 

You considered his words for a moment before ultimately nodding. It felt a little unexpected, but also completely reassuring, that he was entirely on board with the idea and didn’t seem to have any second thoughts about it. “You’re right. Maybe we’ll at least get a week or two of them being decent to us.”

Steve nodded in agreement. “Yeah, exactly, and that would be great.”

You shook your head and let out a quiet laugh as you thought of something. “Jesus Christ, I can’t believe the bar is so low that the thought of our bosses being nice to us for a week or two sounds amazing.”

Steve laughed too, a quick one that matched your own. “Shit, yeah, that’s actually a little sad.”

It would be a thousand percent sadder if you didn’t have each other through this shitty nonsense, but you didn’t tell him that right then. Instead, you gave him a small smile and placed down the last name card you had in your lap.

“I have some ideas about how we should ‘plant these seeds’ and get them to learn about each other without them knowing that we’re doing that,” Steve said after he set down the last packet. 

You were technically officially done for the night, but neither of you made any move to leave the conference room just yet. You sat down in one of the rolling chairs and Steve took a seat in the one across from you. 

“I kinda love that the tables have turned and you’re the one that’s super into this whole thing and I’m being slightly hesitant,” You told him, the smallest amused smile on your face. 

“Yeah, you corrupted me and now you’re backing out.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how playfully serious his voice sounded. “I promise I’m not backing out. Tell me all of your ideas, Harrington.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

MONDAY 

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: i “accidentally” emailed todd the video of the interview kristen did with the horror movie director guy and he ended up watching the entire thing

YOU: solid work

YOU: and on my side of things, i mentioned the new jersey thing to kristen when she brought up thinking about going home for the holidays and she actually found it a little interesting

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: also solid work

TUESDAY

YOU: okay kristen said she wants to get food from the diner for lunch. what about todd? 

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: he wants it too. it surprisingly took very little convincing to get him to quit the juice diet

YOU: great. i’ll see you in the lobby in 30 minutes

YOU: wait i’m just now realizing how horrible this can go for us if we switch their lunches just for them to learn that they have the same favorite restaurant. maybe we should just say that the lunches “almost” got switched and still make the comment about how the person that it almost got switched with really loves the place too? that’ll let them know that they have the same fave restaurant without them getting mad at us for fucking up their lunches

YOU: or maybe i'm just overthinking this

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: no you're right. that’s a better idea 

WEDNESDAY

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: slight change of plans. we have to push the elevator thing to tomorrow 

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: the maintenance guy’s not here today

YOU: okay

YOU: i was gonna ask if we should take this as a sign to not do it at all but i’m not gonna say that actually…

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: it’s not a sign 

YOU: good thing i didn’t say it was then :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You made it to the maintenance room before Steve. Mainly because you were a little nervous to see how all of this would end up playing out, and being two minutes early somehow helped ease your worries a bit. 

When you walked in, you immediately saw a guy with long curly hair wearing a black t-shirt and dark jeans and sitting at a desk with two computer screens; you assumed he was the maintenance guy Steve talked about. 

You gave him a quick wave and then held out a hand. “Hey, nice to meet you.”

His hand shook your outstretched one and quick introductions were said where you learned his name was Eddie and he and Steve went to high school together and were now friends; which wasn’t as long of a story as Steve had initially made it out to be. 

“So, you’re the infamous ‘girl from work.’”

You let out a laugh at Eddie’s words. “Steve’s mentioned me before?” 

Eddie nodded. “Oh, he talks about you a lot.”

Before you could say anything in response to that, Steve walked into the small room.  

“Sorry, I’m late,” He said, even though he was actually right on time. He looked at Eddie and a confused look crossed his face. “Where’s Wayne?”

“He still has the flu, so he wanted me to cover for him today,” Eddie answered. “But, he told me what you guys wanna do, so I got it.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded and then he gestured between you and Eddie. “You two met?” 

“Yes, and I just learned that you allegedly talk about me a lot,” You said and gave him a teasing smile. 

You immediately noticed his face flush at your words, which actually kind of surprised you and for the briefest second you wondered what that reaction meant, but then he was playfully rolling his eyes at you. “It’s only so my friends know that I don’t completely hate my job.”  

“Glad to know that I’m the only one who makes your job somewhat tolerable,” You said, smiling wider at him. “The feeling’s very mutual.”

You looked away from him then and focused on the computer screens. Eddie had now pulled up the video feed of the security camera in the lobby on one side and the hallway where the main elevators were on the other screen. 

“So, Kristen should be getting back from the coffee shop down the street any second now,” You told Steve. “She always likes going right before they close for some reason.”

He nodded at your words. “Okay, and Todd is still in the lobby talking to Martha about getting a new building ID, and they should be done any second too.”

“I still don’t get how you managed to get her to call him down for that.” 

He gave you a smile. “The ladies at the front desk love me.”

“Honestly, that makes a lot of sense,” You responded. “You are the type of person that old ladies would love.”

“I’ll happily take that as a compliment.” 

“Remember how all the moms in town were completely obsessed with you during your lifeguard days?” Eddie chimed in, a grin on his face. 

Steve rolled his eyes in response, and you laughed while saying, “Of course, you were a lifeguard. That makes so much sense too.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “How?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know how to explain it, but just know that it does. And I mean it in a nice way.”

Steve tilted his head and squinted at you. “I don’t know if I believe you.”

“Trust me, I’m your best work friend. I’d never lie to you,” You said, holding a solemn hand to your heart, and he couldn’t help but let out a laugh. 

You looked at the screen again and saw that Todd was still talking to Martha, and Kristen was still nowhere to be seen. 

You tapped Eddie on the shoulder to grab his attention. “If one of them gets to the elevator before the other is there, is there any way that you can not let the elevator come?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Luckily, and surprisingly enough though, it didn’t have to come to that. Because finally Kristen was walking back into the building and heading toward the elevators, and seconds later Todd’s conversation with Martha was coming to an end and he was heading in the direction of the elevators too. 

Kristen pressed the up button and then her eyes went down to her phone in her hand, and Todd joined her in waiting after a few moments. Absolutely nothing was said between the two of them, not even when the elevator arrived and they got on together. Which, honestly, made sense to you because you rarely ever talked to the strangers you ended up in an elevator with. 

“How do you stop it?” You asked Eddie after he switched the camera to the one in the elevator. 

“There’s something to press that stops them for emergencies,” He explained as he got up from his chair and went over to a panel on the wall. “And there’s also an intercom here to talk to them so they don’t freak out or start panicking.”

He then pressed the stop button for the elevator Todd and Kristen were on. “Did it work?” 

You and Steve both responded with a quick “Yeah” at the same time. You noticed the confused looks cross your bosses faces and you saw Todd reach out to press the emergency button, but Eddie was speaking through the intercom before he could. 

“Hey, sorry about that, guys. It’s just an electrical issue and it should be fixed in about fifteen to thirty minutes.” He looked at you and Steve again. “Alright, let’s see if your matchmaking thing works.”

It was quiet at first. So quiet that you couldn’t help but wonder if this was actually the worst idea ever. You and Steve were “playing cupid” for two people who only had a few things in common, and it was all for entirely selfish reasons. 

“I’m just now realizing how insane this whole thing is,” You told Steve, looking away from the screen that showed Todd and Kristen still not talking to each other.  

“You’re just now realizing that? That was pretty much the first thing I told you when you suggested this,” Steve reminded you. 

“I know, I know,” You started. “But now seeing it actually happen is making me understand that.” 

Eddie turned around in his chair and looked up at you two. “Do you guys want me to start the elevator back?”

Both you and Steve had the same immediate answer of, “No.” 

You kept going after a second. “This will either be the best thing ever or the complete opposite, but I think we should just see it through, at this point, right?”

In this moment, it seemed like things were leaning more toward the “absolute worst” side of the spectrum, but it didn’t make you entirely change your mind about doing it, and it didn’t make Steve disagree with you either. “Right.”

“Okay,” Eddie shrugged as he turned back around. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think this is that fucked up of an idea.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Okay, cool, so we’re not completely terrible and manipulative people for doing this.”

“Well, I didn’t say that,” Eddie responded and Steve whacked his arm. 

You didn’t say anything and instead looked at the computer screen again. 

“Come on. Talk,” You mumbled. “Talk to each other.”

“They can’t hear you,” Steve jokingly whispered to you. 

Before you had the chance to make a sarcastic comment back to him, there was finally something coming from the computer’s speaker.  

“Hey, you did that interview with Matt Scott, right?” Todd asked Kristen.

She nodded. “Yeah, I did.” 

“I just watched it a couple of days ago. It was really good,” He said, and at that, Kristen smiled. 

From there, it felt like the equivalent to watching a movie; and you could inwardly recognize how weird that sounded. They introduced themselves to each other and then continued to talk about that horror movie director they both loved, and they eventually bonded over the few things that you and Steve had told them about one another too. 

Thirty minutes passed quicker than expected and you and Steve ended up sitting in two folding chairs that were in the small room and sat next to Eddie as you watched your bosses have what seemed like a really good conversation. It didn’t seem as if it was coming to any sort of an end just yet, but you and Steve still had Eddie start the elevator back up again. And before Kristen got off on her floor first, they exchanged phone numbers— which shouldn’t have at all been surprising, but it still kind of was. 

You looked at Steve once the doors closed and it was just Todd left in the elevator. “Woah.”

He nodded, agreeing with your one word that said a lot more than just that. “Wow.” 

Eddie laughed a little. “Nice work playing cupid for these two.”

You felt relieved, but not entirely so. “We’ll see if it actually works.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Incoming call from UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Steve rarely ever called you. 

It just never made sense with how crazy your jobs were, so you two always settled for texting. Apparently, this moment was different, though. 

However, before you could make any move to answer your phone, you were getting called into Kristen’s office, and your heart was abruptly falling into your stomach because suddenly the timing of Steve's phone call felt like it had something to do with whatever conversation you were about to have with Kristen. 

“Hey,” You said, trying to make your voice sound as normal, and not worried, as possible. “Is everything okay?”

She looked up from her phone and then smiled at you. “Everything’s really good, actually. I’m going to be leaving early today, so you can head out too.”

That wasn’t at all what you were expecting her to say, but you attempted to hide your complete shock. 

“Oh, okay,” You ultimately responded. “Are you sure?”

You regretted asking the question the second you said it, but this entire moment felt like some sort of trick or test, so you felt the immediate need to question it.  

“Yeah, it’s Friday,” She said as if that explained everything, which it did not. “You can have a half day for once.”

You were convinced that this had something to do with Todd, but you still wanted some sort of confirmation. “Special occasion?”

“Remember yesterday when I told you about getting stuck in the elevator for half an hour?” She asked, and when you nodded she continued. “Well, I exchanged numbers with the guy I was stuck with because we had a really nice conversation when we were in there, and five minutes ago, he called asking to go to lunch and then to see this movie that we talked about in the elevator. It’s the last day it’s playing at that small theater on the other side of town.”

You nodded along to her words. “That sounds great.”

“Oh, and funnily enough, it’s the guy that you mentioned a few days ago who works upstairs and is from Jersey, and our food almost got swapped from the diner,” She laughed a little— happily, dreamily— like a woman with a crush. “Isn’t that crazy?”

There was absolutely nothing about how Kristen said those words that should’ve made you think she knew what you and Steve had done, but still, you couldn’t help but think it. 

Which made you force a nervous smile as you once again nodded. “Yeah, so crazy. Small world. Or, well, in this case, I guess small building.” You laughed awkwardly at your non-joke and then immediately kept going. “Anyway, I hope you have a fun time with him today. See you Monday.”

Kristen’s eyes were back on her phone, smiling again as she waved at you in goodbye and you proceeded to quickly leave her office. 

You called Steve back the moment you were at your desk again. He picked up on the second ring and the first thing he said was, “It actually fucking worked. He asked her to go to lunch.”

“I know,” You whispered, even though all you really wanted to do in that moment was let out the happiest sound ever. “Where are you right now?”

“Todd’s letting me leave since he’s leaving, so I’m about to head down to the lobby.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you there. I’m gonna grab my stuff and immediately run away from my desk before Kristen can call me back into her office and tell me that this was all some sort of elaborate prank,” You said and then hung up, stuffing your phone in your pocket and grabbing your bag from underneath your desk. 

You waved happily at Steve when you exited the elevator in the lobby and barely a second later he was pulling you into a hug. Even though that was something that had never happened before, you didn’t hesitate to return the action, wrapping your arms around him too and smiling into his shoulder. 

“You’re a genius for this idea,” He told you, words hitting right at your ear. 

“Technically, you came up with it,” You reminded him when you two pulled out of the celebratory embrace. 

“Okay, in that case, I’ll happily take the credit for all of this then,” Steve said and smiled at you. 

You playfully poked his arm. “What I meant is that we both should get credit for this plan working. You kinda came up with the initial idea and I came up with all the nitty gritty stuff.”

He shook his head. “That’s not entirely true, actually. Who came up with the elevator meet cute?”

You knew that he wanted you to say him, but you refused to give him the satisfaction so you simply shrugged instead. “A shitty Hallmark movie, probably.”

“Ha ha, good one,” He said as he rolled his eyes at you. 

“Thank you, I’ll be here all week. Actually, that’s not true because we finally just got a day off,” You smiled as you and Steve headed into the lobby. “This is the first time I’ve had a Friday off in the past two years of working here, I honestly have no idea what to do now.”

The thought of spending the rest of the day, and then night, catching up on sleep sounded very tempting to you, and it only felt a little sad that you’d be completely sleeping away a Friday when you finally had the opportunity to do something even the tiniest bit fun. 

“Do you want to come to a birthday party for my best friend/roommate tonight?” Steve asked. “We’re having it at our place and I thought I’d have to miss it because I was gonna be stuck here all night, but now I won’t be, and you should come.”

Initially, you smiled at his offer and you felt the urge to accept it on the spot. But then your brain couldn’t help but consider what saying yes would mean. You and Steve had never hung out outside of this building, and the few food spots that were on the same street as this building, before. Although you two were friends, you couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t pretty much start and end at work; mainly because that was what consumed most of your time. 

“Wouldn't that be kinda weird?” You ultimately asked, deciding against verbalizing exactly what you were thinking about. “I don’t think I’d want a random girl from my best friend’s workplace to be at my birthday party.”

“You’re not a random girl. I talk about you all the time, remember?” Steve said, reminding you of Eddie’s words from yesterday, and the playfulness in his tone made you smile.

Instead of asking more questions— like what it would mean to take your work friendship into normal friendship territory, and whether it would even easily happen— you were simply agreeing and saying, “Okay.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

YOU: what should i bring tonight?

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: just yourself 

YOU: that feels wrong. it’s literally a birthday party 

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: for someone you don’t know 

YOU: that doesn’t matter

YOU: so what do you need? cups? some sort of side dish? more cake?

UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: don’t bring anything

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“I brought alcohol,” You said when Steve opened his door and then you held up the two bottles of tequila you bought on your drive over to his apartment. 

He shook his head at you but still smiled as he pushed the door open further to let you in. Seeing him out of his typical professional work clothes and in a simple white t-shirt and jeans was a nice surprise that honestly shouldn’t have been all that surprising. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s physically impossible for me to show up to places empty-handed,” You looked around the decently sized space as Steve closed the door behind you. There weren’t that many people in the apartment yet, you only noticed two girls leaning back against the small kitchen island and talking. You turned to look at Steve. “Shit, am I too early?”

Your hands were full so you couldn’t pull your phone out of your denim jacket pocket to check the time, but you had a feeling what it would say. After working for Kristen for the past two years, it was pretty much ingrained in you to never be late anywhere, and most times you inadvertently ended up being early. 

“A little bit, yeah. But, that’s fine,” Steve told you with a shrug. “I’m glad you’re here early. It’ll probably make it easier for you to meet everyone.”

He then introduced you to the girls talking in the kitchen; his roommate and best friend Robin and her girlfriend Vickie. 

“Hi, you’re my new favorite person,” Robin told you when she noticed the alcohol in your hands.  

“Thank you,” You laughed a little as you set it down on the counter, joining the other bottles that littered it. “Happy Birthday.” 

“Thanks,” She smiled at you. “How are your karaoke skills?”

The randomness of the question slightly surprised you. “Absolutely terrible, but when I’m drunk I love doing it.”

“Perfect,” She said. “You and Steve have to do a duet when we go to this karaoke bar later. The last time we went, he got so drunk he sang Footloose three times in a row.”

“I will admit, each time was very great,” Vickie chimed in. 

“Yeah,” Robin agreed. “He surprisingly has a really good voice.”

You smiled and tried your hardest not to laugh at the thought of the Steve you’d grown to know over the past eight months getting drunk and singing karaoke. “Please tell me there’s video proof of that.”

“Oh, of course,” She nodded and went to pull her phone out of the pocket of the high-waisted pants she was wearing. 

“Okay, and before things get even more embarrassing for me right now,” Steve reached out to grab your hand and pull you out of the conversation. “Let me give you a quick tour of the apartment.”

You were laughing as you let him drag you away from his friends. “You’re suddenly such an attentive host.”

He pointed out the bathroom and Robin’s room down the hall and then led you to his room. 

“It’s clean,” You said, pointing out the obvious. His bed was made and there weren’t any clothes or other random things littering the floor.

Steve let out an amused laugh at your words. “I’m scared to know what you expected it to look like.”

“I don’t know, honestly,” You shrugged as you leaned back against his dark wood desk that was tucked in a corner. “You definitely wouldn’t want to see my room right now. It’s a complete mess from me trying to decide what to wear tonight.”

You had ended up settling for the first things you had pulled from your closet— a long sleeve black shirt and a brown plaid skirt that was shorter than you had remembered but still really nice— so the clothes that had ended up making your bed a mess and floor a tripping hazard felt like a sad waste of time. And now knowing how early you had shown up to the party, you probably could’ve prioritized cleaning up before you left your home in a rush.  

“You look nice,” Steve told you, and you didn’t expect to feel so affected by his words— which you knew were just a simple compliment by a friend— but you did. “Do you want me to take your jacket?”

“Yeah, sure,” You pulled off the dark denim jacket you were wearing and handed it over to him, and he went to place it on the hook behind his open door. 

“So, what did you do after we were set free?” He asked as he sat at the foot of his bed. You got the sudden urge to join him, but you didn’t, deciding to stay right where you were at his desk. 

“I had the best four-hour nap of my life and then I played really dumb games on my phone while still in bed,” You answered. It had been the most perfectly boring evening. “What have you been up to with your past free hours?”

“I also took a nap, and then I watched Clueless.”

A smile immediately started to tug at your lips. “No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” He nodded. “It felt like good timing.”

“I think good timing would’ve been if you watched it before we did the plan, but better late than never,” You said and then asked the important question. “Did you like it?”

He gave you another nod. “Yeah. A lot more than I expected to, actually.”

“Nice, I knew there was a part of you that had, at least, a kind of good taste in movies.”

“I’m still very offended that you think it’s mainly bad.”

“You told me that one of your favorites is the first Fast and Furious movie, and that was all I needed to know,” You said and then gave him a smile. “It’s honestly funny because an article about the entire series was actually the first thing I read on Kristen’s website.”

“And did it speak highly of the franchise?”

You nodded, holding back a laugh. “For the most part, yes. Surprisingly. I’ll find the link later and send it to you.”

“Thank you,” He said and then a beat of silence lingered before he asked, “Hey, is that why you work for Kristen? Because you eventually wanna write for the website?”

“Yeah, kinda, yeah,” You started with a quick nod. “It didn’t initially start that way. I just loved the website and wanted to be a part of it in any way I could. But, the thought of actually writing has only become more and more interesting to me, and yeah I think I wanna do that sooner than later.”

“You should let me read something you’ve written.”

Your head shake was immediate. “No way.”

“Why not?”

“One, because that’s embarrassing. And two, because I haven’t even finished anything yet because of how busy I always am.”

“Well, we’re gonna start having a lot of free time on our hands, so it’s the perfect time for you to actually finish something,” Steve told you. “And also the perfect time to let me read it once it’s done.”

“I’ll think about it,” You ultimately conceded and then proceeded to shift the subject away from yourself. “What about you, though? Why do you work for Todd?”

“Honestly, I don’t really know. My dad helped me get the job, actually, which is a long story in itself. I initially hated it a lot more than I do now, but I knew that my dad would give me shit if I quit. And he probably still would,” Steve explained. Just from the brief way he talked about his dad, you could sense how tense that relationship was, and you really wanted to know more about it, but you didn’t push further in that moment. “I don’t even like this finance stuff, but I still don’t really know what I really want to do, so I’m kinda okay with dealing with Todd and all of his bullshit.”

You nodded understandingly. “That makes sense. You never once gave me ‘finance bro’ vibes.”

Steve tilted his head at you amusingly. “What does that mean?”

“You’re not an asshole mixed with a huge hint of douchebag.”

He let out a laugh which made you smile. “Thank you. That really means a lot.”

“You’re very welcome,” You told him, still smiling and matching his playful tone. “Okay, okay, enough work talk. We need to use our freedom to its maximum potential.” An idea was hitting you as you stood up from his desk. “Let’s get drunk.”

Another brief amused laugh fell from Steve’s lips, but he still nodded at your words. “Solid idea.”

It had been a long time since you drank so your tolerance was terrible. You felt effectively drunk after just two shots— one with Steve to celebrate being free from work and then a birthday shot with Robin that she made everyone do once more people showed up— and you forced Steve to keep up with you, which he happily did. He was five shots in to your three and both of you were on the same level; a level that also exceeded everyone else at the party. 

You learned that the initial plan was to “pregame” here at the apartment for an hour or two and then head to the karaoke bar that Robin had mentioned earlier and spend the rest of the night there. However, you and Steve took pregaming to an entirely different level. 

You two ended up staying in your own little bubble for most of the night— holed up on a spot on the couch as you talked only about non-work related things for the first time probably ever. You wondered if this bubble was because Steve wanted to make you feel comfortable in this space where you didn’t really know anyone aside from him, and Eddie kinda, but you didn’t question it. 

A friendship that had initially felt as if it had started and ended at work easily shifted into something else as you two learned random things about each other and exchanged silly stories that could be deemed as unimportant nonsense, but it didn’t feel that way coming from a person that you really cared about. And it was when you were laughing and telling Steve about the time you crashed into your childhood neighbor's mailbox just one day after you got your license when you were sixteen— a story that you couldn’t remember the last time you told anyone because of how embarrassing it was— you realized that there was something entirely different about Steve. 

What you and he had wasn’t just a work friendship, and even now in this space outside of work, it also didn’t feel like a normal friendship either. Maybe it was never supposed to be limited to something as simple as that. 

There was an unfamiliar feeling that settled in your stomach as you watched him happily stand next to his best friend and hold the cake that she blew the candles out of moments after everyone loudly sang “Happy Birthday” in the kitchen. You quickly pushed the sudden feeling away because it felt easier to not think about it for the time being.

You and Steve ended up back on the couch again after the cake was cut and you two shared a piece, a corner slice that you both thought was the most perfect thing you had ever seen. 

At some point, you couldn’t tell exactly how much time had passed, Robin came over to the two of you. You noticed the amused smile take over her features as she looked at the close proximity between you and Steve; there wasn't an inch of space between you two because you both wanted the plate to balance equally on your laps. “I think you guys have had more than enough to drink tonight, so you should just stay here.” 

“You sure?” Steve asked, looking up at her. 

She nodded. “Yes, I’m positive. If you puke in the karaoke bar and we get banned I’ll never forgive you, dingus.”

“That’s fair.”

You looked up at Robin and smiled. In a way, it felt wrong that your conversation with her had been so limited earlier, she seemed really nice. “Happy birthday again.”

She smiled back at you. “Thanks again.”

The apartment became empty minutes later and the quietness reminded you of when you had first showed up. There was still music coming from the speaker set up in the living room, but Steve got up from the couch to lower it and then it became a soft hum in the background.

“I’m sorry I suggested the getting drunk idea,” You told Steve as you grabbed the now empty plate in your hand and stood up to toss it in the trash in the kitchen; with your drunkenness, it was a task that felt as if it took forever. “I messed up your night with your friends.”

You saw Steve shake his head when you turned to look at him again. He joined you where you were in the kitchen and grabbed a couple cups off the counter to throw them in the trash can. “I’m happy here with you.”

“Is that because you really didn’t wanna do our duet and because I can help you clean up the mess in here right now?”

“Sure.”

You wanted to ask him what he meant by that, because it felt as if there was much more to that one-worded response, and even in your current inebriated state you could see that. Instead, though, you were asking, “Why are we friends?”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the randomness of your question. “Because we met that night in the lobby eight months ago?”

You shook your head. “No, I mean, why are we just friends?”

You weren’t sure why you were suddenly asking this— or even where your abrupt courage was coming from to ask it— but in this moment, with you two standing in his barely lit kitchen, it somehow felt right.

Your question was met with silence, though, and that lack of a response from Steve made you suddenly feel as if you actually shouldn’t have asked that question; because maybe it said way too much. 

“Oh, actually, never mind,” You abruptly said and pulled your eyes away from his, and went to grab the half-full red solo cup off the kitchen counter to toss it in the garbage. 

However, in what should’ve been a short and simple journey to the trash can, you roughly bumped into the side of the counter and spilled the entirety of what was leftover in the cup on yourself. 

“Shit.”

“Shit,” Steve immediately echoed, looking at the mess on the lower part of your shirt and the front of your skirt. “Um, let’s grab you something to change into.”

Wordlessly, you nodded and followed him to his bedroom. You weren’t entirely sure what you were more embarrassed about— you spilling a drink on yourself and now smelling so disgustingly like alcohol or the stupid question you asked him that led to this happening.

“You can grab whatever you want from in there,” Steve told you and pointed toward what you assumed was his closet. “I’m gonna get a towel for you.”  

“Thanks, I’m sorry about all of this. I swear I’m not usually this annoying of a drunk person,” You joked because it felt like the only right thing to do in that moment. 

“You’re not annoying,” You heard Steve say from somewhere behind you. 

You wanted to follow up with another sort of playful and witty response, but you couldn’t think of what to say. So instead, you silently pulled a long-sleeved white button-up off a hanger and turned back to Steve, who handed over a towel for you. 

You headed to the bathroom that wasn’t too far down the hall and as you closed the door behind you and were left alone, you refused to think about what happened in the past few minutes. You focused solely on the mundane task of pulling your shirt off and drying your damp skin with the towel and then moving to take off your skirt. 

You weren’t sure where you thought Steve was, but you didn’t think he was standing right outside the bathroom door, so abruptly hearing his soft voice on the other side of the door made you jump as you slipped on the white shirt. 

“I think we’re just friends because…” He trailed off. “I don’t know, honestly.”

You wished that your question could’ve simply been forgotten about, and you wanted to tell him just that; to forget it. However, there was a small part of you that wanted to push the conversation forward and actually talk about it, and somehow that small part managed to take precedence over logical thinking.  

“Maybe we shouldn’t be friends,” You responded, not outwardly saying what you really meant because you knew that you wouldn’t be able to take it back once the words were out in the open and that was a slightly scary thought, even your drunk brain knew that.  

“I think you’re right,” Steve said, and somehow you could practically hear him nodding. “So, what should we be instead?”

It was obvious what he wanted you to say, and even though the words were on the tip of your tongue, you still couldn’t seem to actually say them. You finished buttoning the shirt and then let out a quiet sigh.

“I don’t know…” You ultimately answered. Selfishly, you wanted him to be the one to say it out loud first. “What do you think we should be instead?”

Hearing his soft laugh made you immediately smile. Somehow, this back-and-forth conversation between two half-drunk people who were beating around the bush about their feelings for one another was becoming more and more teasing, and you honestly didn’t mind it because it just felt so typical of you and Steve. 

“I don’t know, either,” He answered, and for a second, you thought that the conversation was going to come to its end there— without either of you mustering up the courage to actually say the words— but then he continued. “But I’ll admit that whenever I see you, it makes me really, really happy.”

You could only smile wider at his words. “Okay, and I’ll admit that sometimes I like when we’re both forced to stay late at work because it means that I get to spend more time with you.”

You didn’t realize just how true those words were until you were saying them. You had long accepted that Steve being in your life made your job a thousand times more bearable, but you were now finally seeing that it was so much more than that. You were suddenly so certain of the fact that you would’ve quit your job long ago if going to work and dealing with Kristen didn’t mean eventually seeing Steve at some point throughout the day, even if it was just for five quick minutes. 

“Honestly, those late nights are kind of my favorite,” Steve responded to your previous confession and you felt yourself nodding in agreement even though he couldn’t see you.

“I like you,” You told him. Your voice was soft but you knew that he could hear you. “And I don’t mean that in a work friend or regular friend kind of way. And I’m just now fully realizing it tonight, but I think deep down I’ve felt this way for a long time.”

“I like you too,” He responded, voice matching your softness and you could hear the smile in his tone. “And I don’t mean it in a work friend or regular friend way either.” 

Things got quiet for a second and then you were opening the bathroom door and meeting Steve’s eyes. Neither of you said anything at first; mainly because it felt as if the contented smiles on both of your faces managed to say it all. 

“I forgot to grab pants,” Were the first words you said after a minute of comfortable silence. Steve’s shirt on you was long enough and its length matched where your skirt had ended, so nothing new was really revealed. 

Steve laughed a little at your random statement because it made it seem as if a huge thing hadn’t just been admitted by both of you only moments ago. 

“We should probably get you those,” He looked down at your new outfit, or lack thereof, for a brief second and then met your eyes again. 

You gave him a quick nod. “Yeah, I guess that would make sense.”

Neither of you made any move to head toward his bedroom again, though. Instead, another handful of moments passed and then you were silently reaching out and letting your hand find his. You pulled him into the bathroom with you and softly shut the door behind him.

With two people now in it, you were realizing just how small the bathroom was, but this closeness felt perfect to you. And you could tell that the feeling was mutual because Steve’s hands were finding your hips, and then you were being shifted around so that you were pressed back against the sink. Your arms reached up to circle his neck and your hands settled in the hair at the nape of his neck; it all felt so instinctive— as if this was something that had happened a bunch of times before. As if this entire moment was something that had happened a million times before.

Your eyes drifted down to Steve’s lips for a quick second because they were only inches away from yours and you wondered who would be the one to close the final bit of distance between you two, or if you’d simply just meet in the middle and the rest would be history. 

Before anything could happen, though, the annoying logical part of you was taking over and you got the urge to ask something. “We’re not just doing this and saying all of this because we’re kinda drunk, right?”

Your words were whispered and your eyes were closed because you knew that your question had the opportunity to be a mood killer and ruin this moment entirely, and for those exact reasons, you immediately wanted to take it back. But, Steve was answering before you could. 

“No,” He whispered back. It was such a short and simple answer, but it somehow managed to say enough. 

Your eyes opened and you could tell that he was about to say more, but you leaned in to kiss him before anything could be said. It was soft at first, soft and tentative, like you both were testing the waters and trying to correctly navigate this uncharted territory. 

But then it was as if the same switch was flipping for you two at the exact same time because, after the briefest second, you both were simultaneously pushing any and all thinking to the side and simply leaning into what felt right. Steve deepened the kiss and you reciprocated immediately, pushing yourself as close as you could to him and closing any and all space between you two. 

Your hands went from softly tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck, to fisting themselves in his white t-shirt. And then, with Steve’s help too, you pushed yourself up so that you were sitting on the sink counter. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but you didn’t entirely mind it right then. Steve settled between your now parted legs and one hand was still on your hip, while the other was playing with the hem of your, his, shirt that was now riding further and further up your thighs due to your new position.  

“I can’t believe out of everything, you grabbed this shirt,” Steve said in between kisses. 

You let out a contented sound when his lips moved to your neck. “Why?” 

“Because you look very, very hot right now,” He didn’t hesitate to answer. “And your outfit earlier was really great too, and honestly you always look hot so maybe this shouldn’t even be surprising to me right now.” 

You let out a soft laugh at his rambling. “I’m hot even when we’re at work and I’m wearing a boring cardigan and jeans?”

Steve nodded and pressed a quick kiss against your lips. “Especially then.” 

It was hard not to feel so affected by the two simple words; your heart quite literally stuttered at how certain he sounded, and you leaned in to kiss him again instead of saying anything in response. Your fingers carded themselves in his hair, eliciting a soft groan from him that made you smile into the kiss. And then both of his hands moved to your hips, pulling you to the edge of the counter so that you were flush against him. 

In a way, it felt a little silly that you two were making out in his bathroom when there was a perfectly good bed right down the hall. But, it was a kind of silliness that made sense for you and Steve and everything you two built over the last eight months of knowing each other. 

There was the friendship side of things that happened so effortlessly following that night you two met in the lobby, and now there was this new side that, weirdly enough, so quickly felt the same way. Kissing him for the first time right here, right now made you wish that you two had been doing this a lot sooner because of how irrevocably happy it made you. 

“We’re stupid for taking so long to do this,” You eventually told him when you two were in his bed. You were moments away from falling asleep, but you felt the need to finally say those words. 

The two of you were under his grey covers and you had traded the button up for one of Steve’s t-shirts and a pair of his basketball shorts that were really comfortable. His warmth enveloped you completely beneath the blanket as he pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and finding your hand to intertwine it with his. 

“Like we were stupid for not getting Todd and Kristen together sooner?”

You nodded, a small smile gracing your lips that he couldn’t see because you were facing away from him. “Yes, exactly like that.”

Steve pressed a kiss against the side of your head and then his lips tickled at your ear. “I agree.”

You hummed in response and finally fell asleep moments later because you were in way too comfortable of a position not to. It was your first time in Steve’s bed, but how at ease you’d felt since you pulled the blanket over you minutes ago didn’t feel new or foreign. It simply felt right. 

And before your eyes slipped shut and you drifted off, you came to the final realization of the night that everything felt right with Steve, it always did, and that was the most comforting thought to fall asleep to.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know your thoughts<333

[pretentious-blonde]

never second best

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: after a run-in with his ex, steve reassures you that you'll never be second best, proving it in a way he knows will stick

warnings: 18+ this is smut, graphic depictions of sex, p in v, oral (f receiving), tears, insecurity

a/n: part 5 but can be read as a standalone. half of this is super long, pure filth, AND my first time writing smut so pls feedback is welcome. thank you @andvys so so much, hopefully, i didn't let you down <3

series masterlist

Steve perched on the edge of his neatly-made bed, hair painstakingly combed into that signature swoop, the red knit jumper hugging his broad shoulders just so. The sleeves are pushed up to reveal his forearms—a look he recently realised drives you a little wild, and one he now makes an effort to wear often. 

He liked to catch you staring. 

He’s wearing his go-to faded jeans, and every time he glances your way, his eyes take on a softer appearance. You’ve already spent some time in his room before, but every time he sees you there, he still can’t believe you’re in his space.

He’s trying—really trying—not to grin too widely. If he breaks into the excited smile he’s been fighting all morning, he worries he might come off too eager. But truth be told, he is too eager. Hosting Dustin’s birthday party is one thing, but now he has the honour of introducing you to everyone. Officially. 

He’s practically bursting at the chance to show you off, the very thought turned his mind all giddy. Knowing that you would be the one with his arm around your waist for everyone to witness. 

The idea distracted him from the real drama occurring not four feet away from him. 

From your spot by the mirror, you can see him watching you, and it sets your stomach off again. You’re not sure why today feels so monumental. You’ve met Dustin in passing, shared a few laughs with Robin over coffee after she basically saved your relationship a few weeks back.

But tonight is the full show. Everyone. All at once. And for some reason, your carefully chosen outfit no longer feels quite right. You tug the hem of your top self-consciously, tilt your head, and scrunch your nose at your reflection.

“I look awful,” you say, voice laced with the sort of frustration that’s all nerves. “This looked so much better in my head.”

His brow furrows, and he pushes off the bed in a single fluid motion. “That’s nonsense,” he replies, crossing the room to you in three quick strides. He rests his hands lightly on your shoulders, gaze flicking to meet yours in the mirror. "You look beautiful, sweetheart. Always do. You know that."

You huff out a breath, trying not to get lost in the warmth of his praise—easier said than done.

“No, I don’t,” you insist, staring critically at your clothes. “I should’ve brought something else.”

“Well…do you have anything else here?” He asks gently.

There were little traces of you scattered around—a few forgotten items here and there, most notably, the new toothbrush sitting beside his. Still, nine times out of ten, you took your clothes home, leaving behind only your pajamas.

“A set of pajamas.” You sigh dramatically, cursing yourself for not packing more than one option. “That’s about it.”

“Hey, that could work,” he teases, eyes crinkling with amusement. “That’s one of my favourite looks on you.” His hands slide down your arms, his grin growing as he watches your reaction.

Under normal circumstances you would lean into his teasing, but this was not the time. You turn to give him a shove, but he catches your wrist before it can make an impact.

“Steve,” you whine, trying to see the humour in this the way he is.

“What? I’m just being honest,” he says, eyes dancing. “Would you rather I lie?” 

Truth is, he does love you in those pajamas—almost as much as he loves you wearing his old shirts. Honestly, you could throw on a trash bag, and he’d still think you’re stunning.

“Please stop,” you groan.

You’re not smiling the way you usually do at his jokes—no little giggle, no playful roll of the eyes. 

The shift clicks for him: you’re actually stressed. 

Concern crosses his features, and the jovial edge in his voice softens. He lowers his tone, warmth flowing through each word, and slides his hands down to cradle your waist.

“Alright,” he murmurs, thumbs drawing gentle circles against your hips. “Talk to me. What’s not working here?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, exhaling as you sink into him. “I just feel… unprepared. I mean, I’m meeting everyone. Should I have brought something? I should’ve baked. Everyone likes baked goods.”

A breathy chuckle escapes him, and he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

Like you’re not already sweet enough.

“Angel, Robin is bringing the cake. And you”—he squeezes your waist a little firmer—“are a guest here. Your only job is to relax and look pretty. Can you do that for me? Please?”

The earnestness in his voice steals the protest right out of your throat. You look up at him, heart thumping in that heady way it does whenever he turns on the charm full-blast. 

Damn those big, stupid brown eyes. 

You turn back to the mirror, pulling at your shirt once again. There’s a crease here, a wrinkle there—things no one else would ever notice, but to you, it’s just off. You can feel his eyes on you, his concern and affection practically radiating from behind. 

He’s been so excited, so patient, and yet you can’t shake the last bit of anxiety churning in your stomach about today.

In the reflection, you watch him hover, trying to be casual even though you can see every thought flit across his expressive face. He wants you to be happy and comfortable. He wants to show you off and make sure you feel like a million bucks doing it.

“Can I wear something of yours?” you ask softly, turning to meet those wide, hopeful eyes. “I want something more comfortable.”

Comfortable.

His heart practically leaps at your request. He’s not sure why that single sentence sends a jolt of excitement through him, but it does—and it’s powerful. He tries to school his expression into something normal, but the eager beam that spreads across his face betrays him.

“Absolutely,” he says far too quickly, glad to be of use. “Knock yourself out. Have at it—any one you want.”

He opens the wardrobe, stepping aside like he’s unveiling some prized collection. You slip past him, still self-conscious, but the warm brush of his hand on your lower back comforts you. 

Leafing through the soft fabrics, you finally find one that matches the rest of your outfit—a cosy, oversized number that’s equally stylish and undeniably Steve’s. You hold it up, glancing back at him for approval.

He grins—big, unabashed. “Fantastic choice,” he declares, in an exaggeratedly formal tone meant to make you laugh.

It works—you giggle. The sound washes over him like a balm, chasing away the worry in his eyes. 

He lives for that sound.

Then, your focus shifts back to the mirror. You pull off your shirt in one smooth motion, baring your bra and the long, graceful stretch of your spine. 

The air feels cooler against your newly exposed skin, and you instantly sense the spark of awareness coming from the boy behind you.

He goes still. A part of him wants to look away, to be respectful, yet he can’t stop his eyes from drifting along the curve of your waist and the softness just above your navel.

He’s had the privilege of touching your bare skin before—tentative, lingering caresses that never ventured too far. He’s wanted more, of course he has. He’s human—he’s got a pulse. 

But you deserve slow. You deserve a careful pace, no pressure. He’d beat himself up about it for weeks if he even thought he made you uncomfortable.

But that didn’t stop his mind from running. 

He wanted to trail his fingertips down every inch of your body, to feel you melt under his touch. Imagining the way you’d arch into his palms, voice breathless as it tickled his ear, egging him on. Images of pressing you up against the mirror, sliding his hands across your hips, your ribs, your chest, discovering every inch he’s been dying to explore. 

He tears his eyes away, cheeks heating at his own explicit thoughts. 

You slide his jumper over your head, letting the fabric fall into place. Instantly, you’re enveloped in the faint smell of him: cologne, fabric softener, a hint of hairspray. 

You turn, a playful, knowing smirk on your face, you catch the flush on his cheeks—his pupils slightly dilated, his posture taut with the effort of keeping his hands to himself.

“More comfortable?” he asks, managing a wobbly smile.

“Yeah,” you smooth the jumper over your sides, nodding. “Much better.”

A smile spreads slowly across his face, relief flooding his features. He steps closer, gently adjusting the jumper on your shoulders, as if making sure you’re perfectly bundled in his warmth. His knuckles skim your collarbone, the gesture sends a pleasant shiver through you.

“Good,” he murmurs. In the silence that follows, you can almost hear the unspoken thoughts swirling behind his eyes. He drops his hands, brushes a quick kiss to your temple, and lets out a breath. “Come on, let’s get downstairs before the others barge in. The peace isn’t gonna last once the party kicks off.”

The house was buzzing with the kind of kinetic energy that made the walls hum. You can feel it reverberating through the soles of your feet the moment you step back into the living room. The cosy space was adorned with colourful streamers and a Happy Birthday! banner—Dustin’s own insistence, of course.

Steve had nearly suffered a heart attack watching you put it up single-handedly earlier, bursting into the room just in time to steady the wobbling chair beneath you.

I mean, Jesus, were you trying to take years off his life?

You had been blissfully unaware of the impending disaster, balancing precariously as if gravity was a suggestion. 

He had been right there. You could have asked for help. But no—apparently, terrifying him was just part of the fun.

None of that mattered now the party was in full swing, chatter overlapping, laughter weaving in and out of a sweetly melancholic track Max had just dropped onto the record player.

He had introduced you with obvious pride, making sure to state—loud and clear—that you were his girlfriend. Watching you greet everyone with a tender smile. His attention lingered on each reaction, quietly noting how they took in the girl he was lucky enough to call his.

It felt like unveiling a winning hand in a game he never expected to play so well—like holding onto something rare and knowing, deep down, that he’d beaten the odds.

You quickly spot your host—your boyfriend—hovering near the stereo console, running a hand through his hair, trying to appear unruffled while Max and Lucas sift through his precious vinyls. And in typical Steve fashion, failing at appearing calm, because he can’t quite hide his grin when he sees you looking. 

From across the room, he gives you a gentle wave, checking that you’re still alright. His eyes stay on you as you maneuver around the coffee table and dodge a crumb-strewn plate that might have once held cake but now looks suspiciously empty.

“Hey,” he greets, sliding an arm around your waist the second you’re within reach. His hand settles warm and comforting at your side, fingertips lightly pressing into the soft fabric of the borrowed sweater. 

“Hey yourself,” you reply, leaning into the contact without a second thought.

He seems to shine in a way you haven’t seen before. Surrounded by the people he calls family, he’s the best version of himself, brimming with confidence and a natural leadership that emerges when he’s trying to make sure everyone else is okay. 

You see it in the way he’s just handed Max the next record she was eyeing (despite complaining it’s not appropriate music for a birthday party), the way he’s offered Dustin a refill on his drink twice in the last ten minutes, and the way his entire face softens whenever he looks at you.

You hear Will’s loud gasp behind you—apparently, Jonathan just teased him about some underground album you had never heard of. The brown-haired boy claps a hand on his brother’s shoulder, spinning him into an ongoing argument about what to play next. 

Meanwhile, Robin’s perched on the arm of the couch, describing some comedic fiasco at work with her trademark flair for dramatics. You catch only snippets—something about a misfiled horror movie in the kids’ section, a frantic parent demanding a refund, and Steve heroically stepping in to salvage the day.

He rolls his eyes at that particular story, mouth curving in a half-smile. “She’s gonna exaggerate it,” he mutters to you, “just watch.”

You grin, nudging him gently. “Hey, maybe it’ll make you look good.”

“What, me saving the day?” He shakes his head. “Sweetheart, I already look great,” he says in a faux-arrogant tone, then immediately flushes when he realises how that might’ve sounded. But you know him well enough to catch the joking glint in his eye, so you laugh.

“C’mon, Steve,” comes a voice from the left—Nancy, stepping forward with a cautious smile. Her hair is pinned back, a few strands framing her face, and she looks surprisingly at ease despite the chaos around her. “Give yourself some credit. You’re basically running a daycare every shift the amount of times the kids are there,” she teases, though her tone is warm, not biting.

“Yeah, well, if it keeps me from being bored outta my mind, guess it’s worth it.” He snorts.

You shift, letting Nancy into the conversation fully. She meets your gaze with an inviting smile, and it strikes you how nice she is. 

Steve had mentioned her coming, and at first, it rubbed you the wrong way. Not in a dramatic, soap-opera kind of way, but in that small discomfort that settled in your stomach before you could talk yourself out of it.

You didn’t want to be that person—the one who couldn’t handle a little shared history, who needed their partner to rewrite the past just to make the present more comfortable. But still, the thought sat with you longer than you liked.

Steve had noticed, of course. He was too perceptive when it came to you, reading the tension in your jaw before you even had the words to explain it. So he reassured you—gently, patiently, with that soft-eyed sincerity he always had when something really mattered.

Without hesitation, he’d offered to uninvite her. But you shook your head because that wasn’t fair. If they were all part of the same friend group, who were you to come in and break it apart? Nancy was part of his history, but that didn’t mean she had to be an issue in his future.

And if he could move forward without looking over his shoulder, then so could you.

She was not the intimidating figure you’d somewhat imagined— the girl he had cared about so deeply in the past. Instead, she’s approachable, her eyes bright with curiosity as she acknowledges you.

“Hi,” she says, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t think we’ve had a real chance to talk yet. I’m Nancy.” She offers her hand, and you take it, noticing the gentle, firm shake.

“It’s really nice to finally meet you properly.” You tell her, giving your name in return. “Steve’s told me a bit about you.”

She arches a brow at him, a playful glint there. “All good things, I hope?”

“Nothing but the best.” He raises both hands, half-defensive. 

She laughs quietly, then turns that inquisitive gaze back to you.

“So, I heard you’re, um… you work in—”

“Journalism,” you supply with a small nod. “It’s not as glamorous as it sounds, but I really like it. Kinda took your place at the Hawkins Post.” You joke. “They treat me a lot better now though. It’s not anything huge, but I get to read new articles, help shape them a bit, get the occasional coffee run… it’s fun and sometimes totally insane.”

Steve leans in, beaming with pride. 

It had gotten easier—less and less often did you show up at his house on the verge of tears after a shift. Turns out, grown men get pretty uncomfortable when you call them out on their bullshit directly. And damn, was he proud when they finally started taking you seriously.

He always knew they would. You’re a smart girl, after all.

“She’s underselling it.” He says, without the slightest bit of shame, gently nudging your shoulder. “She’s great at what she does.” 

“That sounds so much better than when I was there.” She shakes her head, reminiscing about her experiences. “I still do a lot of writing myself. I’m working at a local paper in Massachusetts right now.”

Something about her tone clicks into place for you, like a puzzle piece sliding in. 

“Right, Steve mentioned. You like it?”

“Yeah. It’s… challenging, to say the least.” She nods, crossing her arms loosely. “Still a small paper, still small stories. But I’m building my portfolio, hoping to maybe do bigger pieces eventually.” 

A warm sense of camaraderie blooms in your chest. You completely understand that hustle, that feeling of needing to push through the drudge work to get to the fulfilling stuff. 

“Oh, absolutely,” you say. “I used to think I’d be working on these huge headlines right off the bat, but it was mostly basic editing work. Still,” you add, “I’m kind of a sucker for persevering.”

Her eyes crinkle with a real smile, and for a moment, it’s just you two, connecting over the rollercoaster that is words. 

“I know exactly what you mean. It’s exciting to be at the start of something, you know?”

“Makes the early mornings and late evenings worth it,” you tease, and she laughs. 

This was easier than you thought.

The conversation flows so smoothly that you almost forget the context—that this is Steve’s ex you’re talking to, that the only reason you even worried about her presence was because of that shared history. But here she is: easy to talk to, friendly, and—if you’re honest—reminding you a bit of yourself in how she lights up when discussing her work. You could understand how Steve fell for her in the first place. 

And that’s when it happens: Dustin bounces by with a half-eaten cake slice, eyes going wide as he sees you and Nancy chatting. He glances between you, leans in—crumbs falling from his mouth as he finishes eavesdropping. 

“Whoa, you guys are so alike.”

“Took you long enough to notice.” Erica chuckles, passing behind him.

Steve nearly chokes on air. “Excuse me?”

“I told you—” Dustin smirks at Steve, “both super nice, pushy in a good way, and way too into all that reportage stuff.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Patterns, man. I see them.”

Nancy, amused, shakes her head but doesn’t deny it. Meanwhile, you feel a curious prickle in your stomach. 

Even though you haven’t felt threatened by Nancy at all, it’s… interesting, hearing Dustin phrase it that way, noting how similar the two of you are.

Before you can dwell on it, Steve is in full damage control mode, waving Dustin away. 

“All right, all right, that’s enough outta you, birthday boy.”

Dustin, unbothered, snickers, then scampers off to deposit his napkin onto Jonathan’s pile of party rubbish. You catch Nancy’s eye, and she looks like she wants to say something, but a flush of colour creeps across her cheeks instead. You wonder if she’s embarrassed at the topic or if she’s also noting how the conversation just positioned you and her in the same category.

“Anyway,” Nancy says softly, clearing her throat, “it was really nice talking to you. And I do want to chat more about writing. Would be great if our paths were to cross again.”

“Sure. ” You nod, smiling. “Anytime.”

She dips her head in a polite goodbye, departing to rescue Mike from an argument with Lucas. That leaves you and Steve standing there in the aftermath of Dustin’s remarks.

“Uh… sorry about that,” he mumbles, glancing down at you. “Dustin’s always been, like, embarrassingly direct.”

A wry smile tugs at your lips. “It’s okay. I’m not offended.”

The evening drifts into its final hours with a soft sun lingering in the corners of Steve’s living room windows. Most of the balloons have deflated a little, and the noise has died down into pockets of lingering conversation. 

Dustin’s boisterous laugh echoes one last time as he heads out the door, hauling an armful of presents. Max trails behind him with the rest of the kids, carrying a few he couldn’t manage. She pauses to give you a small nod and a grin—her quiet way of saying, I like you.

You thought at first she was a tad standoffish, but her actions made you feel accepted into the small group. And if they approve of you, that's a sign that maybe you do belong here, in this makeshift family. 

Not that you’re getting ahead of yourself or anything…

Robin departs next, hooking her arm through Erica’s at the last second to drag her into some half-joking conversation about finally getting a break from babysitting Steve. Which she wholeheartedly agreed with, even if she was multiple years his junior. 

Nancy laughs, glancing your way as if to share the humour, and you wave goodbye with a soft smile. Jonathan, her hand in his, offers you a polite nod. They looked so in sync, bodies unconsciously angled toward each other, moving as a unit. There’s no tension, no leftover drama—just two people who found their other half. 

The thought made you more anxious than relieved. 

When the door finally shuts, the hush that falls over the house is unsettling. You can still hear the faint crackle of the record player, the needle resting in a quiet groove before you switched it off. Now, there’s just the quiet clink of dishes in the kitchen and the soft hum of Steve’s voice—he’s singing along to the old radio as he stacks up the glasses. He told you he had it under control, and knowing you didn’t like the feeling of leftover food in the sink, he took this job for the team.

You’re left gathering discarded wrappers and balled-up napkins, your mind spiraling in circles you really don’t want to follow but couldn’t help yourself.

Nancy is lovely. Infuriatingly so. 

In fact, she was so kind, so pleasant, that it almost stings more than if she’d been cold. Because it means you can’t hate her. Not that it was your goal to do so, but you couldn’t just dismiss her as some memory in Steve’s past. 

She was right for him once, and the knowledge of how closely her life aligns with yours—similar ambitions, the same drive for success, the spark of curiosity—makes your throat feel tight.

What if Steve also sees her in you? What if every moment you thought was unique and special was just him trying to relive something he used to have with her?

You can’t stand the idea, but the rational side of your brain doesn’t seem to be cooperating. 

Steve isn’t cruel. You know that. 

He’s never been anything but considerate, thoughtful, patient with you. Hell, the amount of times he was there for you—without hesitation, without needing to be asked. Holding your hand when you were nervous, pressing a kiss to your temple when you overthought, making you laugh when you wanted to cry.

He had never once made you feel like an afterthought. He was all in. And yet, the thought gnawed at you—was he here because he chose you, or because he was still reaching for a shadow of the past? Was he even aware he was chasing her ghost?

Your fingers tighten around a crumpled paper plate, and you swallow against the lump forming in your throat. You wonder if you really are just a Nancy 2.0 as you step into the kitchen, tossing the rubbish in the bin and retreating back to the now clean living room. Not wanting to talk to him just yet. 

The water stops running, the tap squeaking as Steve turns it off. You hear him dry his hands on a dish towel, then he appears in the doorway, face lighting up for a moment—until he sees your expression.

“Finished in the kitchen,” he starts, voice warm and a little proud, then pauses. “...What’s wrong?”

He settles beside you on the couch, the cushions dipping under his weight. Your shoulders tense a little—his proximity normally soothes you, but tonight, your mind won’t quiet down, and every small gesture feels magnified. He notices immediately.

“Nothing,” you say, forcing a small, tight smile. “I really liked your friends. They’re all super sweet. I can see why you get along so well.”

“Oh yeah?” There’s a warmth in his tone, a hopeful rise.

You nod, dropping your eyes to your hands. He slides closer, until his knee brushes against yours. 

“You even got Erica to like you,” he points out, sounding genuinely impressed. “It took me weeks to win her over, and you waltz in and manage it in a few hours? So not fair.”

You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes. “I’m sure she’s just being polite.”

A quick scoff breaks from Steve’s throat. “Erica doesn’t do polite unless she means it.” He places his hand lightly on your arm, and despite the tension coiled in your chest, you feel a rush of affection at the contact. “No, seriously—I loved having you here, angel. Made the whole day so much better.”

“Really?” you ask, voice wavering just enough that he picks up on your uncertainty.

“Well, yeah,” he answers, brow creasing. “I’m just glad they didn’t scare you off.”

Your lips form a weak smile. “Oh, they didn’t.”

But there’s something about your tone—some waver you can’t quite hide—and his eyes sharpen. 

“Okay, spill,” he says, leaning in. “What’s going on?”

“Huh?” You try to keep your expression neutral, but his gaze pins you.

“I know you,” he insists, a furrow carving between his brows. “You’re stressed about something.”

“I’m so not,” you counter, folding your arms tight against your chest.

“Yeah, you are,” he replies, undeterred. “You have tells.”

“Tells?” you echoed.

“Yes, tells.” He shifts forward, voice low. “So tell me—what’s on your mind? Did someone say something? Because I swear to god—”

“Steve,” you cut him off, irritation sparking. “Nobody said anything.”

“Then what is it? Was I too much? I swear I just wanted people to know how much I—”

“Steve,” you say again, louder this time, frustration rolling through you in a hot wave. “I’m fine. Drop it.”

His expression crumples the instant your sharp tone slices through the air. It’s like someone yanked the rug out from under him, and he sits there, quiet and unsure, those warm eyes losing some of their usual shine. It kills you to see him look so hurt, and you can practically feel the guilt creeping up your spine.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs at last, voice soft and almost hesitant. “You… you don’t have to come to the next one. If it wasn’t fun, or if it was too much—”

“That’s not it,” you say, cutting him off. You watch the confusion linger on his face, and it only makes the ache in your chest worse. 

He just wanted to have a good time, to share his world with you. 

And now here you are, turning what seemed like a perfect day into something heavy and complicated.

“Then—what?” His shoulders sag. “I don’t know what else could’ve gone wrong.” His gaze flits over your features, looking for answers you haven’t yet spoken.

You swallow, steeling yourself. 

“It was just… Nancy.”

“Nancy?” Steve’s eyes widen in surprise. “I thought you two got along really well tonight.”

“Yeah,” you admit, speaking around the lump in your throat. “We did.”

He pushes a breath through his nose, like he’s sifting through every possible explanation and coming up empty.

“I thought you’d, I don’t know, bond over books or something. I mean, I know you were anxious before, but you’re both so… nice. She’s already with Jonathan, you’ve got me—”

“Steve.” You cut him off again, trying not to let your voice waver. “We’re similar. That’s the problem.”

He blinks. “What d’you mean?” His tone is gentle, even though you see the concern in his eyes.

You rake a hand through your hair, fighting for the right words. He shifts forward, bracing himself.

“Steve, we’re really similar,” you say at last, voice low. 

“Okay?” He nods, urging you to continue. “So you have some shared interests. Where are we going with this, sweetheart?”

A shaky breath escapes you, and you force yourself to look him in the eye. 

“Are you sure you’re not still… looking for her?”

He frowns, confused. “Looking for her? I don’t—”

“Yes, Steve. Searching for someone like Nancy because you couldn’t have her. Like I’m just the next best thing. Even the kids picked up on how alike we are.” Your voice cracks, and you hate how vulnerable you sound. “I don’t want to be some bullshit replacement, filling up the space she left behind.”

All it takes is that one word—bullshit—and the floor drops out beneath him. 

You’re looking at him, voice trembling with hurt, and the realisation that you think you’re not enough guts him. Because he knows that feeling too well. He’s been there, on the other end, wondering if he was any good for anyone. But this? This is a thousand times worse. Because it’s you—and if there’s one thing in this world he’s certain of, it’s you.

He can’t stand the heartbreak in your eyes. Can’t stand the idea that he might be the one making you feel that way. His mind scrambles for something, anything, that might put your mind at ease—words to counteract that awful notion of being not enough. 

Then, suddenly, clarity strikes. He can’t think of anything else but to go full-force, stern, direct, because you’re far too precious for soft reassurances that could be mistaken or ignored.

“Hey,” he says, voice firm enough to startle even himself, “listen to me and listen to me good, all right?”

He can see how shocked you are at the tone he’s using; you go still, your gaze locking on him in a way that assures him every word will sink in. It has to.

“Never—and I mean never—are you some kind of half-ass replacement. You hear me? So get that thought out of your head right now.”

He’s never spoken to you quite like this before, but desperation thrums under every syllable. 

I can’t lose you. Please believe me.

“I don’t care how long it takes or how many times I have to say it—you are not second place. You are not a replacement. I didn’t settle for you, I chose you. You think I’d waste my time with someone I didn’t want wholeheartedly?”

He asks the question as though there’s no logical answer except the truth: Of course he wouldn’t. And he can’t stop now; your silence pushes him to continue. He needs you to know.

“God, if you could see yourself the way I do, you’d never think this again. You would never doubt how much I love you. How stupidly lucky I feel every day just to have you. You are not some ghost of my past. You are my future. And nothing—no one—could ever change that.”

There’s a ringing in his ears from the intensity of his own words, and he breathes hard, every muscle coiled with tension. Your eyes are wide, shining with an emotion he can’t decipher—shock, relief, maybe both. He hopes to God his message got through.

And then—amid the silence—your voice comes out soft, almost a whisper. 

“You love me?”

The question slices through him like lightning. He falters, suddenly off-balance. 

Fuck.

Because he’s just laid bare his entire heart, more than he’s ever dared to before. But there’s no taking it back. No gentle way to hedge now.

“Yes.” He swallows. His voice is steadier than he feels inside. “I do... Simple as that.”

That was all it took.

The words barely leave his mouth before you surge forward, meeting him in a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, messy and urgent, the taste of each other a heady mix of relief and need. 

He gasps when you grip the collar of his sweater, tugging him closer, refusing to let a single breath of space linger between you. In response, his hands slide down your waist, pulling you tight against him until he can feel every curve, every line of your body against his.

“God,” he rasps against your mouth, already sounding relieved. “You—fuck.”

You hum a soft, breathy laugh escapes as he hauls you closer, helping you out as you sit and straddle his lap. His mouth is trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat as you sink your fingers into his hair, tugging, making him hiss against your lips.

He’s so desperate he doesn’t know where to touch first—fingers skimming over the curve of your hip, the dip of your waist, sliding boldly beneath the hem of your—his—jumper to feel the heat of your skin. 

Everything about you feels like an invitation, a promise he’s craved for far too long. And each gasp, each little whimper you give him, only fuels that growing ache inside of him.

“Steve,” you whisper, voice cracking with urgency. He glances up, eyes dark, pupils blown. There’s something unbridled there—devotion, longing, raw determination to make sure you never doubt him again.

He pulls you closer, one hand curling around your waist, the other sliding around to grip your ass, pulling you flush against the growing hardness in his jeans. 

Then, as though a last spark of caution flickers through his brain, he stills, pulling back just enough to look at you—really look, eyes darting between yours. There’s a flush high on his cheeks, lips reddened from your kisses. But behind that is a tenderness, a protective streak that roars beneath his surface need.

“Tell me you want this,” he says, voice so low it practically reverberates through your chest. He needs to hear you say it. Needs to hear you tell him it’s alright. “I want to make sure you’re positive, because I—I want this more than anything—to show you, to make you feel so fucking good, but…”

You let out a noise that’s both a laugh and a moan. 

“Steve,” you repeat, more breathless this time. “I want this. I want you. Please.”

He groans, eyes squeezing shut. Thank God. 

“Shit, you have no idea how long I’ve—” He takes a breath as he shudders against you, every nerve ending on fire. “Angel—fuck—wait, just a sec.”

You blink, momentarily dazed. “What—did I do something?”

He just about melts at the concerned look you’re giving him, hands immediately cupping your face as he presses his mouth against yours as he mutters reassurances. 

“No, sweetheart. You didn’t—you’re perfect.” He wills his brain to formulate a coherent sentence. Easier said than done when he has you sitting on his lap. “But, if I’m going to make love to you, I’m not going to do it on the living room couch.”

A glint sparks in his eyes, but there’s nothing playful about the way he suddenly gathers you up into his arms, hands cupping beneath your thighs, hoisting you effortlessly against his chest as he stands. Your squeal of surprise echoes in the now-quiet house as you cling to his shoulders, heart pounding.

You laugh out his name and his only response is to tighten his hold on you, a grin tugging at his kiss-swollen lips, before he turns and starts up the stairs, carrying you like you weigh nothing. 

Your arms wrap around his neck, your lips brushing the line of his jaw, and his low groan vibrates in your ear, spurring him to climb faster.

He kicks the bedroom door open with his foot, all too eager to finally have you in his arms, in his bed. He sets you down on the edge of the mattress, his hands lingering at your hips as though he can’t bear to lose contact. 

You’re about to tease him for being so careful, but the sight of him—flushed cheeks, hair a disheveled mess from your fingers, lips reddened—steals the quip from your tongue.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. As urgent as he feels, there’s that undercurrent of protectiveness, that need to check you’re here with him for all the right reasons.

Your smile is a little breathless. “I’m more than okay.”

He exhales slowly, like your reassurance is the only permission he needed to keep going. Then he nudges your knees apart so he can step in closer, pressing your bodies flush. The warmth of him is addictive—solid arms, broad chest, that steady heartbeat thrumming beneath your palms.

A shiver runs down your spine when he bends to brush a slow kiss along the side of your throat, teeth just barely grazing your skin. Your head falls back, and he uses the moment to trail more kisses along your jaw, your collarbone, mapping the curve of your shoulder as if memorising every inch.

“Lie down for me,” he whispers, voice trembling with the effort it takes to keep it gentle.

You slide back onto the bed, propping yourself on your elbows, and he kneels near the edge, guiding your legs up so you’re fully on the bed. His hand glides beneath your clothes, pushing it slowly upward, knuckles skimming the bare skin of your waist. His gaze locks with yours as he slips it off over your head, making sure you’re still okay with each inch of exposed skin. You can’t help the small, playful grin that tugs at your lips. 

“Careful, Harrington,” you tease, breath hitching when he plants a soft kiss at the center of your sternum. “At this rate, it’ll be sunrise before you get these clothes off.”

He huffs a little laugh against your skin, the warm puff of air sending a tingle racing across your flesh. 

“You deserve careful,” he says, words muffled by the increasingly desperate kisses he’s leaving along the tops of your breasts, your clavicle. “But don’t think for a second I’m not dying to tear everything off you, angel.”

His fingers drift to the waistband of your jeans, undoing the button and zipper with a focus that makes your stomach flip. He eases them down your hips, helping you lift so he can slide them all the way off. Then, with a featherlight touch, he glides his hands up your thighs, sending sparks of electricity racing through you.

“Steve,” you breathe, voice catching when he leans down to kiss your newly bared skin. He starts at your calf, working his way leisurely up, each press of his lips driving you a little bit more insane. By the time he reaches your inner thigh, you’re trembling—desperate for him.

“Look at you,” he coos, voice shaking with something close to awe. His fingers slide along the band of your underwear, and he gently pulls them down, letting them join your jeans on the floor. With each inch, he leaves more of you uncovered, and the intensity in his gaze leaves you feeling bare in more ways than one.

You try to close your legs, feeling slightly exposed with the way he is gazing at you, but his hand is firm as it grips your thigh, holding you open. You hold your breath as his fingers skim over your folds, head falling back as his thumb circles your clit slowly. 

“Shit,” he breathes out, second hand joining to gather some of your wetness on his fingers. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, angel.”

“Steve,” you murmur, voice quivering with need. Your fingers thread into his hair, urging him closer, your body already winding tight from the warmth of his breath against you.

“God,” he mutters, words muffled by another kiss to your thigh. “I’ve wanted this—wanted to do this—for so damn long.”

He shifts, situating himself more comfortably. Then, with a half-lidded glance in your direction, he leans in and presses his mouth against your clit in a way that shatters every remaining thought in your head. 

A soft cry tumbles from your lips, and he groans at the sound, pulling you in deeper, his grip on your thighs tightening.

He moves carefully, learning your reactions, letting your gasps and moans guide him. Each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck, is a question: Is this good? More? Show me. And every time you arch your back or let out a ragged whisper of his name, he answers with another fervent, deliciously slow pass of his mouth.

"Fuck, angel, I could do this all night.” He dives back in. “Keep you here, keep you shaking over and over on my tongue."

He’s so tender in his insistence, balancing the sharp edge of hunger with a profound concern for your pleasure. One of his hands slides up to lace your fingers together, and he squeezes—almost like he’s grounding himself in the moment, sharing each pulse of sensation so you know he’s right there with you. The other hand strokes up your thigh and curls around your hip, keeping you anchored against him.

“Oh, God,” you gasp, voice pitching higher when he drags his tongue across your pussy with a pointed languidness. Your thighs tighten around his shoulders, and he shudders, his fingers reflexively pressing into your skin.

He pauses just long enough to rest his forehead against your thigh, breathing hard. His voice comes out in a low rasp, intense in its sincerity. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he mumbles dazed as he returns to his ministrations. Lapping against you like he couldn’t possibly get enough. 

A wave of warmth crashes over you at his words—any lingering insecurities vanish beneath the heat of his devotion. You tug lightly at his hair, guiding him back, and he happily obliges. His tongue moves in slow, deliberate strokes at first, building you up in a dizzying ascent, then quickens when your moans become urgent.

Your heels dig into his back, and you choke out something unintelligible—his name, a plea, a broken sob of bliss. He groans in response, the sound reverberating through your entire body, heightening the sensation until you think you might shatter from it. 

There’s something almost reverent in how thorough he is, like he wants to memorise every reaction, every hitch of your breath.

“You’re making the sweetest fucking noises, baby.” He murmurs. “Driving me insane.”

Tension coils in your stomach, winding tighter with each measured flick of his tongue. Your grip on his hand is borderline crushing, but he just grins against you, absolutely thrilled by the desperation in your touch. 

That’s all the encouragement he needs to push you closer and closer to the edge. His name tumbles from your lips again, a breathless entreaty, and he groans, the vibration sending sparks skittering across your skin.

He can tell you’re close—he can feel it in the way your hips jerk, the way your pussy clenches, the way your voice climbs. And he wants it for you, wants to be the reason you come apart so completely that you’ll never doubt his devotion again. 

“Come on, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” before diving back in with a perfect, rhythmic swirl that makes your entire body tense.

The tension snaps. A rush of pleasure bursts inside you, and you let out a cry that would embarrass you if you could think about anything but the ecstasy roaring through your veins. 

Your hands grip his shoulders, nails biting into his skin, and he moans like the taste of your release is exactly what he’s been dying for. He works you through every pulse, every aftershock, with gentle flicks of his tongue until you’re quivering in oversensitivity, pushing lightly at his head to let him know you can’t take another second.

When he finally straightens up to see you—lying back against his pillows, clad in just your bra—you spot a flicker of pure hunger crossing his face. He swallows hard and you see your release glistening against his chin as he does. He’s trying to keep himself tethered to sanity, but it’s a losing battle.

“Not fair that I’m the only one so… exposed,” you breathe out, hooking a finger into the hem of his jumper.

 “Impatient, huh?” He lets out a shaky chuckle as he licks his lips.

You roll your eyes in faux annoyance, tugging firmly at the fabric. He gets the hint. In one smooth motion, he yanks his shirt over his head and tosses it somewhere behind him. You catch a glimpse of toned arms and the lean planes of his chest, and it steals your breath all over again.

But he’s not done—he pops open the button of his jeans, sliding them down until they pool at his ankles, stepping out with a sense of urgency that has you biting your lip. For a moment, he just stands there, letting you take in the sight of him, hair messy, eyes blown wide with desire, wearing only his boxers.

“Better?” he asks, eyebrows lifting.

You drag your gaze up and down, unrepentant in your ogling. “Much.”

Steve’s eyes glitter with raw need as he hovers over you, his body pressed so tight you can hardly breathe. Every breath you take is steeped in the mix of his cologne and the sweet, desperate scent of your own arousal. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mutters under his breath, his gaze roaming over your curves with a barely restrained hunger. One of his hands grips your thigh, dragging it higher around his waist. “Don’t know how the hell I got so lucky.”

You can’t manage a reply—your breath stutters as he runs his other hand up your side, fingers skimming your ribs, his thumb grazing the underside of your breast in a fleeting touch. The contrast between how tender he’s being and the way his voice drips with a filthy promise makes you whimper, arching into his touch.

He leans in, teeth nipping at your lower lip before he kisses you slow and deep. It's messy and you can taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Fuck,” he whines, “I need you, sweetheart. Need you right now—can I?” His voice cracks with urgency, and you feel every syllable reverberate through your body.

“Yes,” you whisper, voice trembling with anticipation. “Please, Steve. I—”

He cuts you off with another kiss, sliding his hand between your thighs, which have only got stickier. He groans at the way you shiver, so worked up that you feel like you might combust if he doesn’t fuck you this instant.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “So wet for me.” Then, in a lower tone. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby—gonna make you forget anything else exists except how good my cock feels inside you.”

His words took you by surprise. Your usual sweet boyfriend was downright obscene with his words.

You knew he had a sharp tongue, but you had no idea how damn filthy he could make it. 

He reaches into the bedside table and tears the condom wrapper off with his teeth, making quick work of sliding it over his length.

The moment he lines his cock up at your entrance, you can feel the tension in his body—like he’s holding back a tidal wave of desire, absolutely determined not to hurt you, to make sure you’re comfortable.

“You good?” he rasps, voice tight.

“Yes,” you pant. “Steve… please.”

He exhales a ragged breath and pushes into you, inch by inch, until the stretch of him draws a moan so raw from your lips that he answers with a guttural “Fuck.” 

Your head falls back, the sensation an exquisite combination of pleasure and the ache of being so completely stuffed. He stays there a moment, trembling arms caging you in, nose brushing yours as you grip him like a vice.

“Angel,” he chokes out, voice thick, “You—you feel so fucking perfect. Look at me.”

You force your eyes open, meeting his gaze, and the ferocity of his desire sends another wave of arousal flooding through your veins, clenching around his length. 

“You feel that, sweetheart? Feel how deep I am?”

All you can do is nod dumbly as his hand presses on your lower stomach. He knows you can feel him there.

He starts a slow rhythm, hips rolling, each thrust calculated to bring you higher. And for all his filthy talk, there’s a sweetness in the way he cups your cheek, kisses your jaw, your collarbone, like he can’t decide which part of you he loves most.

“God, yes,” he groans, each thrust picking up in intensity. “You like that? Tell me you like it.”

“I love it,” you gasp, fingers clawing at his back. “Steve, you feel—God, you feel amazing.”

He lets out a breathless laugh that ends in another throaty moan as he angles his hips just so, making you keen against his lips. His pace quickens, every stroke hitting deeper, sending sparks of pleasure through every nerve.

“Fuck—baby, you’re so tight,” he hisses, his mouth at your ear. “So damn tight for me. Never want this to end—wanna keep you like this, under me, always on my cock—cumming so hard you forget your own name.”

Jesus, if you knew this was how he was going to talk, you would have given him the green light weeks ago.

He punctuates the filthy promise with a particularly deep thrust, and your toes curl, a cry spilling from your throat as you cling to him. You’re quickly losing yourself in the haze of his words, his body, his everything.

You utter his name in a choked sob, and it’s like a starter’s pistol. He shifts his angle just enough that the strokes perfectly grind against that sensitive spot inside your walls. The pleasure mounts in a dizzying spiral, your body tensing as you hover on the brink of release.

“That’s it,” he coaxes, voice gone ragged, snapping his hips more insistently. “God, cum for me, sweetheart. I need to feel it—want to feel it so bad.”

And with one more roll of his hips, you do—crying out, body arching as the orgasm shatters through you. Every nerve in your body lights up as you clamp down, and his guttural moan tells you he’s right there with you, grinding through your climax until he’s spilling himself into the rubber, breathing your name over and over like a prayer.

For a moment, you’re both lost in the aftershocks, hearts pounding, bodies tangled in the sheets. Then he sags against you, pressing lazy, tender kisses to your shoulder and murmuring small, breathless praises that make your cheeks burn with warmth.

The afterglow is still pulsing between you—soft, warm, and intimate. He leans down to press feathery kisses to your shoulder, your chest, up the side of your neck, murmuring words of reassurance and awe.

“You did so good,” he breathes, voice low and reverent. “So perfect.”

Heat flutters in your chest at the praise, and you can’t help but giggle, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair and guide his face to yours. Your lips meet in a searing kiss, slow and sweet. When you finally pull back, you find him watching you with those big, earnest eyes.

“Was I… okay?” he asks, cheeks turning pink in a bashful sort of way. “Like, everything good for you?”

“More than okay.” You let out a satisfied sigh, your body still humming with pleasure. “That was perfect.”

“Yeah?” he echoes, a shy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah.” You brush a thumb across his lower lip, feeling a spark of amusement as you remember the filth he whispered moments ago. “When were you gonna tell me you had such a dirty mouth?”

Instantly, his face flames. He cannot be blamed for what he said in the heat of the moment. It was hard to have a filter when he had you mewling underneath him.

“Hey, well, uh… I don’t… I mean, I—”

“Shh.” You chuckle, placing a finger over his lips “I loved it.”

“Oh yeah?” He exhales, relief and pride mingling. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind—my girl likes it a little dirty.” 

“C’mon, lover boy.” A fresh wave of laughter bubbles out of you. You let him help you up, your legs still a bit shaky. He steadies you with a strong arm around your waist and guides you to the bathroom so you can rinse off the sheen of sweat and bliss.

The shower is warm and comforting, the water sluicing away every last trace of tension as you help each other soap up and rinse off. When you emerge, toweling your hair and feeling the pleasant ache of satisfaction in your muscles, you notice Steve holding out one of his old T-shirts for you to slip on. You beam, tugging it over your head before crawling into bed next to him, the soft cotton drowning you in his familiar scent.

He pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. The hush of the room, the warmth of the covers, and the steady sound of his heartbeat lull you into a sweet, sleepy contentment.

“Hey,” he murmurs, turning so his nose brushes yours.

“Mmm?” you reply, lashes fluttering.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

Your heart clenches at the simple sincerity in his tone. “I love you too, Steve.”

And with that, his arms tighten around you, and you drift into a peaceful sleep, knowing that in the morning, you’ll both wake up in the same bed, same sappy looks on your faces, same lovesick smiles as you bask in the golden morning light. Steve will probably be watching you already, grinning like a fool, fingers tracing lazy patterns over your back, because he’s just that smitten.

[buckysgrace]

Happy Valentine’s Day!! ❤️❤️

Red Roses and Chocolate Kisses

It's wrong to date your student's parent. Right? Is it really?

In which Steve Harrington makes you question everything.

CW: Includes oral sex and unprotected sex!! Also, this is probably too long, I'm sorry. Dad!Steve Harrington x teacher!reader <3

Your class was usually loud, full of pattering feet and outrageous giggles from your tiny students. Today was twice as loud, your class refusing to do even the simplest tasks as the day loomed closer and closer to your class Valentine’s party.

“Now, boys and girls,” You spoke up over all the loud voices, desperately trying to get their attention back to you, “What do we tell all of the parents when they arrive?” You asked them as you adjusted your headband with springy hearts back over your head. You were sure by now your makeup was smeared and your hair frizzy and unruly from the long hours that had passed. 

Paisley’s hand was the first in the air, her expression full of excitement as she held it as high as it would go. You raised your eyebrow, surprised at her sudden outburst. She was new in your class, her family had only moved here within the past month. She was shy, still struggling to make friends with the other students in the class. Most of the time at recess she stood behind you, your little shadow as she tried to show you different tumbling tricks she could do. 

“Paisley?” You asked her then quickly shushed your two ornery boys so the whole class could hear her speak. She dropped her hand, her cheeks turned rosy as she leaned back in her chair and tugged a bashful smile to her lips. 

“We tell them thank you,” She said shyly, “My daddy’s coming.” She said a second later, giggling as the rest of the class began to shout out which parent would be joining them. You grinned, trying to calm them back down as the minutes to their parents' arrival grew closer.

“Okay, okay everyone stay in their seats,” You responded as you ushered them back into their assigned area, “Did everyone get their boxes out?” You asked as you walked around, noticing the vast array of different boxes that were on desks. You could usually tell which students did them on their own and which had their parents quickly throw something together. 

“Miss?” Paisley looked up at you with huge brown eyes and thick eyelashes, “My daddy is bringing mine.” She brought one of her tiny fingers against your pink skirt, tracing one of the red hearts. You’d met her mother, but this had been the first time you’d heard of her father. 

“That’s fine,” You reassured her as you rubbed the back of her shoulders, “Do you have your valentines cards and candy?” She nodded her head, “Good. We can wait for your daddy before we start.” You responded as she skipped back to her seat, a fresh pep in her step.

You greeted parents as they came, helping them unload the various snacks that they brought onto your large reading table. You could no longer hear your radio as parents joined their students, starting up a conversation as you tried to get everyone comfortable.

You were growing worried that Paisley’s father wasn’t going to show and wondered if you needed to sneak out to make a quick call to her mother. Then again, her mother struggled to sign Paisley’s papers and sounded anything but interested in the one meeting you’d had with her. 

“That’s him!” Paisley shouted, speaking louder than you’d ever heard her, “That’s my daddy!” She proclaimed loudly, almost sitting up in her chair as she pointed towards him. 

Your eyes widened as you quickly rushed over, holding your hands out for support as he shuffled into the classroom with his hands full. He had stacks and stacks of cookies, cupcakes and chocolate covered fruit. Around one of his wrists he had multiple plastic bags with bottles of sodas and juice. Under his other arm he had a pink box underneath.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” You looked at him surprised, trying to help him balance the treats in his arms before they went everywhere, “Mr. Harrington, this is a lot of sugar.” You ended up taking the box from him, fearing that he might end up crushing it. You didn’t like thinking about Paisley’s mortified face if that happened. 

“Steve, uh,” He paused as he handed you a package of cookies next, “My name is Steve. You can call me Steve.” He stammered out as you took the package from him. You froze for a moment, taking him in for the first time.

He was handsome. Really handsome. His skin was warm with moles decorating across his features. His lips were pretty pink, his teeth white and straight. He had a strong nose, dark eyebrows and dark hazel eyes. You stared at them for a moment, trying to decide if they were more brown or green. 

“Okay,” You drew out slowly as you tugged your lips into an amused grin, “Well, Steve, I think you’re about to give a bunch of first graders a sugar high.” You told him honestly as you began to wiggle things around on your table so he could fit his snacks on there. 

“They deserve it every once in a while,” He smiled as he looked at you, “Plus, my ex gets Paisley tonight. She can deal with it.” He had a tad bit of bitterness in his tone, but you ignored it. It wasn’t your place to pry. 

You looked at him again, his hair was slightly disheveled as he let out a loud groan as he freed his hands. He had a mark around his wrist from how heavy the soda bottles had been in the bag. You suddenly felt nervous under his gaze. 

“I see,” You said as you handed the decorated box back to him, “Well I think they’ll appreciate all of this.” You gestured towards him as an awkward laugh fell from your lips. You quickly shook your head, reminding yourself that he was your student's parent. 

“It’s kind of last minute,” He rambled for a moment, “I had her this week and she didn’t tell me there was a party until last night. I bought a little of everything, you know, what was left.” He breathed out as he took a step back, his eyes knitting together as he took in the vast amount of sweets that he’d brought in. 

“You’re fine,” You reassured him, sure that he had bought enough food to feed all of the first grade classrooms, “She’s been very excited.” You told him honestly, glad that she seemed to be coming out of her shell. His face lit up at your words. 

“Good,” He grinned as he balanced the box in his hands, “Is she adjusting okay?” He looked a little worried as he turned towards you once again, like he was expecting you to say otherwise. You’d briefly heard that Paisley hadn’t done well in her last school. She struggled to focus on her work at times, but you found that if you gave her plenty of breaks and avoided taking away recess time that she got her work done. 

“She’s timid,” You told him gently, “She’ll get adjusted soon enough though.” You told him honestly, sure that she would make friends soon enough. The other kids were willing, she just didn’t seem interested in any of them yet. 

“I hope so,” He paused as he glanced towards you, “She talks about you a lot. She says you’re her favorite teacher.” He pressed his fingers against the corners of the box, almost looking like he was hesitant to say that. You felt your body warm, grateful for the little compliments. It always made you feel like you were doing your job well. 

“Daddy,” Paisley appeared, all smiles as she tugged on his free hand, “Come on.” She whined as she dragged him towards her seat. Steve stumbled backwards, looking like he had more to say as he shot you an apologetic smile. You suddenly felt like giggling, like you were a highschooler again. 

You made your rounds through the classroom, taking turns speaking to parents and making sure that your students passed out an equal amount of valentines to their peers. You passed out your own valentines to each of them that contained their own special letter along with a sour sucker.

“Did you see my box?” Paisley asked you in excitement as you approached, smiling proudly as she gestured towards it. The base of it was pink, with silver Christmas bows on each corner of the box. You could tell where they’d taken a coloring book and printed out different animals, then colored those before gluing it onto the box. 

“It looks very nice,” You told her, smiling at the way she crawled over Steve’s lap, “I bet you worked so hard on it.” You told her honestly as you slipped your valentine into her box. She squealed, wearing a proud expression before she dug her face into Steve’s chest.

“She means thank you,” He told you softly, smiling as he rubbed a large hand along her back, “She really likes Lisa Frank at the moment.” He explained as he dipped her back down, earning a giggle from her before he began to pepper her face in kisses. You felt your heart flutter, sure that something in you had broken as you nodded your head in agreement and moved on.

You thought he looked a little silly sitting in your classroom, sticking out like a sore thumb. His legs were far too long for the tiny desk he was sitting at, his attitude too peppy for the other mother’s that were sitting in your class with their noses raised high. You didn’t miss how they kept looking at him. You were sure they’d be talking about him for the next few weeks. 

“What do you mean you don’t want it?” Steve teased Paisley, her giggles filling the room as you walked back over, “Celery is so good for you. It gives you hair on your chest, just like daddy.” He said dramatically, pulling at the top of his shirt just enough to show his dark hair on his chest. 

“Daddy no!” She giggled, her face flushed as she shook her head, “I don’t want that.” She shook her head quickly, her dark hair bouncing about as she wrinkled her nose up in disgust. You felt a smile pull onto your lips, noticing the frosting that remained at the corner of her lips. 

“You don’t?” He grinned as he kissed the side of her head, “Why not?” He noticed you then, grinning as he continued to rock her back and forth. You sent him a shy wave, hoping that he didn’t think you were odd. He was about the only person your age that was friendly enough to approach. 

“Teacher!” Paisley shouted to gain your attention, “Tell my daddy he’s silly.” She demanded, wrinkling her features up cutely as she balanced herself on Steve’s knee. He pulled her close again. 

“Hey, what’s your teacher's name?” He teased her as he tickled at her sides, “You remember.” He reminded her, giving her a slight nudge as she turned up to you shyly. She nodded her head, repeating your name before she buried her face in his chest again.

“She’s very sweet,” You told him honestly, smiling at how easily she fit herself into his arms, “Are you having fun?” You bent to her level, hoping to make her more comfortable. 

“Yeah,” She answered as she wiggled her face away from Steve’s chest, “I like sugar.” She said honestly, reaching for her plate again to pick up a cupcake, ignoring the celery stick that Steve was still trying to put in her hand. 

“Oh, I bet you do,” You grinned as you answered her, “Sugar is very yummy.” You nodded your head in agreement, meeting Steve’s eye as you slowly rose. You gulped, your throat feeling dry suddenly. You were sure, without a doubt, that he was the most handsome man you’d ever seen. 

You busied yourself at your desk after, fanning through the various cards and pieces of candy that you’d received as you tried to distract yourself from glancing over at Steve. You weren’t sure why he had such an effect on you, why you felt such a dire need to be noticed by him.

You were fairly sure that dating him would be against the rules and then reminded yourself that it didn’t matter. He didn’t seem interested in you anyways. There was nothing to worry about, but that didn’t stop your imagination from running. 

Steve was currently making the other kids giggle and clap, watching in amazement as he popped Hershey’s kisses into his mouth from high distances. You were distracted yourself, having a hard time tearing your gaze away from how charismatic he was. 

It took you a moment to collect yourself, to wipe the dreamy expression from your features and scold yourself for practically drooling over him. You didn’t need to add to any of the gossip that the other mother’s may come up with if they saw you.

The party slowly died down as the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Many parents ushered their kids out right away, ignoring how you were clearly trying to offer them some of the leftover snacks. You did not want to take them home with you as you feared you may spend the rest of the night snacking on them on your own. 

“Do you need help?” 

“Oh,” You jolted in surprise, sure that everyone had left, “Where did Paisley go?” You asked Steve breathlessly, twisting slowly in the chair that you were standing on to pull free the pink streamers. You figured it was better to take it all down now, then to come back next week and do it before your students arrived. 

“Her mom met us at the front,” He smiled as he placed his hands in his pockets, “I feel bad for bringing all of this stuff and it didn’t get used.” He replied as he gestured towards some of the full trays of cookies and cupcakes that were left. You began to step down, your chair wobbling from your motions.

He reached out quickly, making you jolt as he took a hold of your free hand. His left palm reached for your waist, holding onto you gently as he lowered your feet to the floor. Your insides flushed, your legs trembling as you turned to look at him. From this proximity you could see the green in his eyes, the freckles along his nose. 

“I’m sure we can find something for it,” You reasoned softly, feeling shy at the feeling of his palm against your own, “I’m sure it won’t go to waste.” You told him quickly as you removed his hand, ignoring the sparks that traveled up your arm. 

You turned away, clenching your fingertips together as you desperately tried to rid of the way you could feel your heartbeat in the tips of your fingers. You shook your head, reminding yourself that you had just met this man. You walked to your board, beginning to remove the strings that were decorated there as well. 

“So,” He drew out slowly as he helped you remove the stringers from the top of the board, “What are you doing after this?” He asked you curiously, his features inquisitive as he held the decorations between his long fingers. You noted that his fingers still had remnants of bright markers and glitter glue stuck to his wrist from his decorating with Paisley. 

“I have grand plans.” You said teasingly, trying to hide your grin as you began to erase your board. Usually your students would fight over who got to do it, but they had forgotten with all of the festivities. 

“You do?” He looked towards you quickly, almost dropping the decorations that he had gathered. You fought to keep your laughter at bay, a little amused at how affected he seemed to be. 

“Oh yeah,” You nodded your head as you turned to look at him, “Me, my cat and a frozen pizza. All for myself.” You drew out playfully, finally letting your lips crack into a grin at the way his expression relaxed. He chuckled softly as he moved his hand to the back of his neck and began to gently press down on his messy hair. 

“Do you like Pappo’s?” He asked suddenly, furrowing his eyebrows together in a wince as he turned towards you. He quickly looked away, his brown eyes finding interest in the glitter on the floor like he was afraid of what you were going to say. 

“I’ve heard it’s good,” You told him as you placed the leftover cookies into a plastic bag, “But I’ve never had it before.” You admitted as you thought about the new pizza place that was in town. You had made a few plans with your friends, only for them to not work out in the end. 

“Do you want to try it?” He asked you as he rolled his tongue around inside of his mouth, “With me?” He asked again, looking like he was trying to be suave as he awkwardly rested his palm on your table. You trailed your eyes up the length of his arm, meeting his eyes as you wondered how he used to ask girls out. You had a feeling it wasn’t this way. 

“A date?” You spit out quickly, your eyes widening at your own words, “Like a friendly date?” You quickly corrected yourself, hoping you didn’t seem desperate. You held a paper heart up to your face, lightly fanning yourself as the warmth settled in. 

“Yeah,” He said quickly as he leaned his arm against one of your bookshelves, “Unless your cat will be waiting for you.” He teased softly, looking just as interested in what you had to do later. You felt a flutter in your heart, suddenly feeling like this dreaded holiday wasn’t that bad. 

“He probably will,” You giggled softly as you nodded your head, “Sure. Do you want to leave now or?” You asked him curiously. It was still fairly early in the afternoon, but you couldn’t be sure if it would happen if you ended up waiting. You’d rather go now, then wait by the phone and face rejection later. You were sure that he had plenty of other options waiting for him. 

“Now is good,” He told you quickly, “Do you need a ride?” He looked at you curiously, watching the way you replaced your decoration in a box and stood on your tippy toes to push it back onto the top shelf with the rest of your decorations. Steve moved next to you, placing his fingertips next to yours as he pushed the box back with ease. 

“I walked,” You told him honestly as you steadied yourself on your feet again, “I don’t live far.” You told him for some odd reason. You stared at him, feeling a warmth traveling between the two of you. You could feel something tugging you in his direction, something invisible binding the two of you. 

“Walked?” He looked at you in disbelief, “It’s freezing out.” He noted. You nodded your head, suddenly interested in the way his lips moved. You wondered how they were so pink, how they looked so smooth. You wondered if they tasted as sweet as they looked. 

“It was a little chilly,” You agreed as you twisted the lace along one of the paper hearts your students had gifted you, “But it gives me time to think.” You shrugged your shoulders as you looked back down at the ground, mentally punching yourself for being so easily affected by him. He was just being nice and he was off limits. 

“I figured it’d take someone with a big imagination to teach a bunch of wild kids.” He chuckled as he shrugged his own jacket on. You grabbed your coat, then slid on your hat and gloves. It was too cold to not bundle up. 

“They’re not always wild,” You said playfully, “But parties always seem to make them a little more hyper.” You told him seriously as you began to grab your gifts and some of the leftover snacks. You’d have a whole weekend to try and not eat them yourself. 

“I really wouldn’t make her more hyper for her mom to deal with,” He said suddenly as he helped you carry the leftover desserts outside, “I hope you know that.” He replied, looking like he was genuinely worried about what you thought. In all honesty, you’d heard moms say much worse about their husbands. It didn’t phase you one bit. 

“I figured,” You nodded your head in agreement, thinking that he was too kind to do something like that, “Do you get her every other week?” You asked him curiously, hoping he wouldn’t think you were prying. He took the desserts from your hands as he slid them into the trunk. You held onto your own gift bag, not wanting to risk losing the work from your students. 

“Yeah,” He nodded his head as he opened the door for you, “I’d like her more, but that’s the best agreement we could come to.” He explained briefly. You paused as he shut the door for you, then stayed silent until he reappeared into the driver’s seat. 

“I’m sorry.” You told him honestly, knowing that divorces could be hard. Very hard. 

“It sucks,” He agreed, “But things are better than what they used to be. Are you seeing anyone?” He asked as he started his car, giving it a minute to warm up before he took off. You rubbed your clothed palms together as you waited for the air to turn warm. 

“Not currently,” You replied as you played with the seatbelt over your waist, “I guess I’m still stuck on waiting for the right person.” You told him honestly, still wondering if you kept your nose buried deep into too many romance books. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” He replied, “Well, I hope not. I’m doing the same thing, I guess.” He mumbled for a moment. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure that no one was coming as he slowly reversed out of his parking spot. 

“It’s very romantic.” You grinned as you turned towards him, thinking that he looked more handsome with wind blown hair and a red nose. You were sure that this was inappropriate, that your coworkers would have a hay day if they ever caught wind of what you were doing. 

“It feels weird,” He admitted, “I’d been with my ex for the longest time, I’m not really sure if I know how to be with anyone else.”  He replied for a moment, looking like he had desperately needed to get that off of his chest. You nodded your head, feeling like you could understand in a similar way. You weren’t sure if you would ever have anyone. 

“I think you’ll learn to adjust to the change,” You told him softly, “But I don’t have much experience in that area.” You told him truthfully, feeling like all of your relationships had ended in broken hearts and tears. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d had a romantic Valentine’s date. 

“Either do I,” He sighed as he pulled over, “I really hope you’re hungry after all of those sweets.” He grinned from ear to ear, his eyes tracing over your features as he gazed at your reaction. You felt a smile tugging onto your lips, swooning a little at the attention that he was giving you. 

“I think there’s always room for pizza,” You teased him, “Thank you.” You told him truthfully, feeling a little less lonely on this holiday as you slid out of the car.

Steve was a gentleman. He held doors open for you, pulled your seat out for you, constantly asked for your insight and just seemed genuinely glad to be near you. You thought that he must be a little lonely too as you were sure you couldn’t be that interesting. 

“What do you like?” He asked you as he glanced at the menu again. He held it a little too close to his face, squinting as he peered at the words. You slightly wondered if he needed glasses, or if it was just a habit he had fallen into. 

“Pepperoni is fine with me,” You answered, “Or just cheese. Whatever you feel like sharing.” You told him truthfully, fully planning on eating whatever he got. You could feel a twitch in your fingertips as the warm feeling continued to spread through your chest, down to your legs and to the tips of your toes. 

“Is Paisley your only child?” You continued to make small conversation with him once the food arrived. You had learned that he was funny, really funny. You liked how lighthearted he was, how he was slightly dorky but still had a certain charm to him. 

“Yeah,” Steve nodded his head, “I want more one day.” He added as he peeled a piece of pepperoni off of half of the pizza and popped it into his mouth. You watched as he poked his tongue out, then licked away the grease that had collected in the corner of his mouth. 

“Kids are fun,” You told him in agreement, “How many do you want?” You asked out of curiosity as you enjoyed the bubbles from your Coke. 

“Like six,” He grinned in amusement as he took in your surprised expression, “I’m an only child, I want something else for Paisley. I know how lonely it can get.” He explained with a shrug of his shoulders. You nodded your head in agreement, thinking that his reasoning was strong. 

He questioned you about your life, the questions small and vague but you were far more eager to tell him than you had been with your previous dates. He seemed to be actually interested, like he wanted more than just to bring you home to his bed. 

“What is it?” You asked as you reached for your purse, “We can split it.” You told him seriously as he looked over the bill. He shrugged his shoulders, looking like it was no big deal. 

“It’s fine,” He brushed you off, “I got it.” He told you truthfully as he began to scribble down his signature on the little receipt. 

“No really,” You said, feeling a little guilty. You didn’t know if this counted as bribery, “I don’t mind.” You responded quickly, feeling your heart hammering roughly at the way his eyes met yours. 

“We didn’t get you a Valentine’s card,” He said quickly, “This way it’s fair.” His grin was a little lopsided, a little dorky although his eyes seemed to be apologetic. 

“Dinner in exchange for a card?” You asked him, shaking your head at the goofy grin that formed on his lips, “Alright then.” You rested your chin on fingertips, feeling a little enamored by the way he moved. 

“Easy trade,” He insisted as he pulled free the cash, “I can give you a lift back home.” He offered you, raising an eyebrow as if you would protest. This place was definitely too far to walk back to your apartment. 

“I’d appreciate that,” You told him softly, “Are you sure I’m not keeping you from something?” You asked him seriously, hoping that you wouldn’t be bothering him. 

“No,” He said as he shook his head, “I really enjoyed this. It’s better than being home alone.” He told you, speaking what had been on your mind earlier. 

“I can agree with that,” You smiled, “Although my cat is probably wondering where I’m at right now.” You said with a soft laugh, hoping that your cat wouldn’t be too offended. 

“Do you want to come in?” You asked him, feeling your heart flutter, “Just for a drink?” You tried to brush it off as no big deal, although you really didn’t want to lose his company so soon. It was silly to become so attached to someone that you had only just met. 

“My throat is dry,” He grinned as he looked at you, “I’d love that.” He replied as he dragged himself out of the car. He walked quickly, almost slipping in the leftover slush from the previous snow just so he could open your door first. You grinned as he helped you out, then offered you his hand as you walked through the parking lot. 

“Um,” You stumbled a little bit as you led him up the stairs to your apartment, “I wanted the top floor. I liked the balcony, I like sitting out there in the early mornings.” You explained to him, although you hadn’t been able to do that recently. 

“Yeah?” He looked at you with interest, watching as you slid the key inside of the lock and turned it for him, “It’s not a bad place.” He told you quickly, interest flooding his features as he inspected your various pictures and paintings. 

“Tiny,” You responded as you glanced over your shoulder to peer at him, “But it’s fine for just me. It doesn’t make me feel as lonely.” You admitted, feeling a little less embarrassed to admit how lonely you could be since he’d spoken up about it. 

“How could you be lonely with this guy?” Steve grinned as he ran his hands through your cat's fur, “What’s his name?” He watched as your cat rubbed his face up against his palm, soaking in the cuddles from someone new. 

“Spooky,” You responded, watching in enjoyment, “He’s a big softie.” You told him honestly, knowing that Spooky enjoyed sleeping and eating more than anything else. 

You made a glass of hot chocolate for the both of you, which then turned into two as the conversation kept going. You didn’t want it to stop, didn’t want to pretend that you weren’t allowed to be with him. Even if it was wrong, you figured a few more minutes wouldn’t be that big of a deal. 

At some point you found yourself scooted closer to him, his arm resting across the back of your sofa as his fingertips brushed against your exposed shoulder. Your body nearly felt too hot, your heart beating too fast as his voice moved through your ears like the sweetest symphony. 

Your conversation had suddenly trailed off, drifting into silence as you both faced one another. You traced your eyes over his features again letting out a dreamy sigh at the sudden rush you felt, as if you were on a rollercoaster.

He moved closer, his nose pressing against yours as your lips parted in anticipation. His lips did the same before he closed them again, then tilted his head down further so you could smell the rich chocolate coming off of his tongue. 

You felt your eyes close as you clenched one fist together tightly, trying to wake yourself up as you felt his lips drag against yours in hesitance. You tilted your head up, repeating his motions as his large hand fell to the back of your neck.

Your heart was hammering wildly against your bones, creating a new rhythm inside of your body as Steve teasingly pressed his lips against yours again. It was soft, sweet. Just enough to wake you up from your dream. 

“Steve,” You gasped, your lips still lightly brushing against his own. His hot breath fanned your face, “We can’t do this.” You told him as you pressed your hands against his chest, admiring the way his heart was thumping against your palm.

“Why?” He asked hotly, his eyes warm and dark as he looked at you. He was still close, close enough that you could make out the slight green in his eyes.

“I’m Paisley’s teacher,” You reminded him, “This could put her in a bad spot.” You told him softly, knowing that a hookup with your student's parents was a very bad thing.

“Or a good one.” He chuckled softly, slowly rubbing his thumb against your neck. You felt your mind spinning, like you were falling into a haze as his lips grazed against the corner of your mouth. He kissed there slowly, then licked in a tantalizing manner.

“I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” You told him quickly as you placed your hand against his, grabbing it so you could grip yourself back into place. You wanted this, you wanted him. Desperately. 

“Who said that I did?” He chuckled as he rubbed his fingertips along the curve of your hips, “It’s just kissing.” He mumbled, nearly making you swoon from how raspy his voice was.

“I really want to,” You told him truthfully, hating that you had to reject him, “But I can’t. Not while she’s in my class.” You explained softly, feeling like you had no more air to breathe as he brought his hands against yours.

“I understand,” He replied, looking at you sincerely as he traced his thumb across the side of your hand, “I’m patient.” He grinned a second later before he settled back into his spot, going back to explaining what he thought about the TV show that was playing in the background. 

A few days passed since you’d last seen Steve, which to some part, you were grateful for. You needed the strict reminder that he was off limits. You’d known of coworkers who’d gotten involved with parents before, only for it to end in heartache.

You did your best not to remind yourself that most of those parents had been in relationships, meanwhile Steve was single. In all technicality, there was no actual rule about you dating him. You could, but you knew it would make things awkward.

You’d have to get around the issue with Paisley, as you were sure she would accidentally slip up and announce to the class that you were dating her daddy. You didn’t want that to spread around to the school, to the parents. It would look bad on your part, you were sure of it.

Your parent teacher conferences seemed to be longer than usual. Most parents weren’t concerned and you guessed that they seemed to feel that this was more of a waste of time than anything. Sometimes it was like pulling teeth to try to get through to some of the parents. 

Paisley’s appointment had been last and it took everything in you to keep from secretly wishing that Steve would show up. You figured it would be her mom again, which was fine. You shouldn’t be looking forward to seeing a parent. 

But Steve had shown. He was a few minutes late, all apologetic as Paisley wrapped herself tightly into his arms again. Your heart still fluttered in the same manner, your body warming as he smiled oh so sweetly at you. You wondered if he could still feel your lips against his. You couldn’t stop thinking about his lips. 

“What are you doing later?” He asked you curiously, once you had run through all of your main points about Paisley. He seemed to take her grades quite seriously, which you were happy with. He made you feel like you were doing something right. 

“You’re my last meeting for the day,” You admitted as you slid the papers away, “After that, I’m not sure.” You shrugged your shoulders, sure that it would have something to do with feeding Spooky. That would perhaps be the highlight of your night. 

“Come over.” He said finally, looking a little more confident than the last time you’d seen him. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting him to ask again. You thought about how badly you wanted to go, but you knew you weren’t supposed to. 

“Steve,” You sighed softly, “You know-,”

“It’s not a date,” He reassured you, “Just for dinner. And a movie. Paisley and I rented The Little Mermaid again. She loves it.” He replied as he gestured towards her. Paisley took interest, moving over so she could grip onto his knee and pull herself up onto his lap. 

“It’s my favorite!” She added gleefully, smiling as she balanced on her knees. He took a hold of her waist to lift her with ease, before he settled her better onto his lap. You watched, debating what was the right thing to do. 

“It would be wrong.” You said at last, wrinkling your face up as you clearly didn’t want to bring that answer down upon him. You really, really wanted to go with him. It was pathetic just how badly you wanted to.

“Think of it as a home visit,” Steve grinned as he watched her, “And I have a bunch of discounted candy that’s just going to end up rotting away if someone doesn’t eat it.” He pointed out, wiggling his eyebrows a bit to earn a laugh from you. You tilted your head, watching him in amusement. He bore the same grin, looking just as excited at the prospect. 

“I’ll eat it.” Paisley spoke up quickly as she snapped her head up towards her father. He looked down at her, his lips curling into a knowing grin. 

“You’ll get cavities,” He teased her as he moved her hair from her forehead and gave her a soft kiss, “What would the tooth fairy say about that?” He asked her playfully, giving her another kiss on the side of the head before he turned towards you again. You could feel your heart hammering as an invisible string seemed to yank you closer and closer to him. 

“I don’t know,” She giggled as she held onto him, “Please come.” She turned towards you next, shooting you the same large brown eyes that Steve held. You knew that if you were to say no that he would understand, that he wouldn’t pressure you into anything. 

“Okay,” You smiled, “But just for a little bit.” You told them in a playful manner, doing your best to sound stern as you playfully pointed at the two of them. 

Steve dropped you off at your apartment first, saying he had no issue with you checking up on Spooky before you went with them. Paisley was eager, almost pouty because she desperately wanted to see where you lived. 

“Roses?” You looked at him, one eyebrow raised in accusation as you walked into his house. It was fairly large and you could see why he’d get so lonely when Paisley was gone. Still, it looked like it was lived in. He had many pictures of her, of them and of people you assumed must be his friends.

He framed some of her artwork too, which you were sure she really enjoyed. His living room was slightly messy, filled with discarded toys and stray crayons. His pillows were a little frumpy, his blankets scattered about in such a manner that it made you wonder if he had napped on the couch beforehand. 

“They were on sale,” He grinned as he bit down on his bottom lip, “I couldn’t just let them go to waste.” He said simply as he pulled a rose free from the vase. He offered it to you, watching with interest as you pulled it up towards your nose and took a slow inhale. 

“They were too pretty,” Paisley added as she moved to grip your hand, “I’ll show you my room!” She told you in excitement, bouncing up and down as she waited for your energy to match her own. 

“Sure,” You smiled, letting her drag you up the stairs and down the hallway, “Oh my. I love it.”  You said dramatically as you peered at the room. She squealed, giving herself a little hug before she bounded inside.

You carefully twisted the rose in your fingers as you looked around at the many princess posters, along with the very pink sheets and mass amount of toys that were neatly stacked up in the corner of her room. Her bed was made nicely, but not neat enough to make you think that Steve had done it. 

“She really likes Disney princesses right now,” Steve explained, gaining your attention as you turned to see where he was leaning against the doorway, “I’m sure you’ve heard all about it.” He smiled in amusement, watching the way Paisley continued to run about. 

“Not princesses, no,” You told him softly, “But I do know that she likes ponies.” You teased her, noticing the various Barbie dolls that were surrounded by horses. She grinned from ear to ear, her face brightening as she looked back towards Steve as if to confirm that he had heard you.

“Lots of ponies,” He chuckled, his eyes sparkling as he watched his daughter pull her collection down, “I can order something for dinner, what sounds good?” He asked you, but you really didn’t mind what you had.

You turned towards Paisley, waiting for her response as she gave you a knowing look. She giggled as she bounced on her feet in excitement. 

“Pizza rolls, daddy!” She said at last, surprising the both of you. You didn’t mind pizza rolls at all, it had actually been some time before you had eaten any. That sounded good enough for you. 

“Pizza rolls?” He looked at her incredulously, “You don’t want like, an actual pizza?” He asked as he pushed the hair off of her forehead again. She leaned against his touch before she smiled up towards him. 

“No,” She said quickly, “I like those better.” She gave him an excited grin, giggling softly as she held onto the material of his pants. You felt your own eyes lingering against his hips as you took in how thick his thighs were. You quickly turned away. 

“What about spaghetti?” He asked instead, swaying her back and forth as he presented the option. You watched in humor, impressed at how well he always interacted with her.

“Hm,” She paused dramatically as she held her hands on her hips, mirroring how Steve was standing at the moment, “I think that’s good.”

“Alright,” He paused before he headed out of the door, “But you’re eating all of your broccoli this time.” He gave her a firm, but playful look. 

You played with Paisley for a while, enjoying the time with her although you wished you were speaking more to Steve. You reminded yourself that this is what you wanted. You wanted that distance. 

You were sure Steve was the definition of your perfect guy. On top of being funny and sweet, he really knew how to cook a mean meal. Even if it was something as simple as spaghetti and meatballs. 

“You’re messy,” He teased Paisley as he used a wet rag to wipe her face clean, “I think you need a bath when we get back.” He turned away from her, his lips pulled into a warm smile as he looked towards you.

It felt like the whole Earth had stopped, like time had slowed and it was just you and him. Your fingers felt like they were numb, petrified from the sudden jolt that erupted in your heart. It made your whole body shake, quiver as his eyes slowly drank in every tiny detail on your features. 

You could no longer hide the way you felt, the way he made your pulse quicken and your nerves spark with electricity. It traveled down your arms, down your legs and to your toes. You could feel it in your chest and clear up to your head.

Steve turned away first, his cheeks slightly flushed as he turned his attention back down to his plate. He listened to how Paisley rambled for a moment, his lips still twisted into a smile as you came to your own decision. 

After that, you couldn’t allow yourself to be distant from Steve. You spent the majority of your free time at his place, or he spent time at your place. Neither of you had made a move from the first night, but every second spent with him had you wondering when it would happen again. You were craving each little interaction, hoping that it may lead to something more. 

“I’ve honestly never understood these movies,” He told you one night as you were both snuggled up into the corner of the couch. Your feet were crossed and linked as you shared the footrest, “What are they doing again?” He asked, turning towards you curiously as he knitted his features up in an adorable way.

You’d rented The Ewok Adventure, already knowing that he had never seen it before. You’d watched it a few times, but mainly got it because of how excited he’d been when he had told you that his favorite Star Wars movie had been the one with the teddy bears.

“The Ewoks,” You paused as you pointed to the screen, “The teddy bears, they’re trying to help those kids find their parents.” You explained, gesturing towards the kids as they came on the screen again. Steve nodded his head, his lips parted in understanding before he knitted his eyebrows tightly together. 

“What happened to their parents?” He turned towards you again, his features still plastered into uncertainty. You watched the TV for another moment, deciding on the best way to explain it all over again. 

“Steve,” You turned towards him in amusement, “Did you watch the first part of the movie?” You teased him as you gently pressed your fingertips against his sides. He nudged you back, pushing your fingers away before you could fully tickle him. 

“Well, yes,” He said, looking a little flushed, “And no. I was a little distracted.” He admitted a second later, his gaze softening as he watched you softly. You could feel your heart fluttering deep inside of your chest as the butterflies inside of your stomach burst to life. 

“With?” You asked him softly, fluttering your eyelashes at the way he moved his large palm over your thigh. The sparks inside of your skin grew, spreading through your veins as desire pooled between your legs. He gently spread his fingers across your pants, rolling them softly against your inner thigh. You felt your breath hitch as your clit began to throb. 

“Just admiring how you’re pretty enough to be in a movie,” He told you, giving you a cheesy smile as you snorted, “What? It’s true.” He squeezed your flesh this time, almost making a soft moan leave your lips. 

“You’re very sweet.” You told him truthfully this time, wishing you had the courage to tell him just how handsome he was. You saw him everywhere. In your dreams, your fantasies. You even pictured him in the books you’d read. It was pathetic really. 

“When are you going to let me kiss you again?” He asked you suddenly, his voice soft and sultry as he continued to hold your gaze. You felt your heart stop for a moment before you remembered how to make it work again. 

“This is the first time you’ve asked.” You reminded him, suddenly aware of how close the two of you were. You fought the urge to squirm, to push his large hand further between your thighs. You wanted him to touch you there, to feel his fingers spreading your folds apart as his tongue lapped against your clit. 

“Are you going to reject me again?” He asked you playfully, his eyes sparkling with interest as they glanced down towards your lips. Your eyes moved in the same manner, staring at the way his lips curved and moved as he spoke. 

“There’s only a few weeks left of school,” You mused softly, “I suppose there’s not an issue if we keep this, you know, a secret for right now.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping that you didn’t sound too desperate. You felt like you were being reeled in, that there was no real reason keeping the two of you apart. 

“Paisley does have a loud mouth.” Steve grinned, chuckling softly like he was thinking the situation over. You grinned, but felt like you needed to defend her. 

“Don’t be mean,” You giggled softly, “All kids her age are the same.” You told him truthfully, briefly thinking of the amount of tattle tale slips you’d had recently. 

Steve watched you for a moment, almost making you shy away with the intensity that he held. You gulped, turning your attention away for just a moment before you met his unreadable gaze. He was almost intense, far more than what you had been expecting. 

“I really want to kiss you.” Steve told you truthfully, his voice warm and thick like honey. You felt your heart begin to quicken at the thought. You wanted that. You wanted that very desperately. 

“I won’t stop you,” You breathed out softly, “I want to kiss you too.” You admitted, feeling like there was no longer a barrier between you two. You slinked yourself forward, moving slowly as he scooted himself a little closer. 

It was slow. Almost too slow. His nose brushed against yours, your mouth opening as you awaited for the feeling of your lips against his own. He parted his lips in the same manner, inhaling sharply before he gave you what you’d been waiting for. 

His lips were warm, smooth and sweet all at the same time as you pressed your lips desperately against his. He slid his large hand against your neck, holding you still as he dragged his lips against your own. His tongue prodded at your bottom lip, licking away the sugar from the ice cream that you had shared earlier. 

You gasped as you turned your body closer to him, sliding onto your knees as he raised in his seat as well. Your body felt like it was on fire, the flames spreading through the open mouth kisses that he dragged across your cheeks and chin.

You tilted your head, spreading your fingers through his hair as he began to pepper his lips against the crook of your neck. His kisses were soft and sensual, then deep and passionate as he dragged his tongue against your skin. 

His mouth brought moans from your lips, leaving your eyes tilted as he gripped your thighs and pulled you closer to him. You began to rut your hips against his thigh, gasping at how your clit jolted from the feeling of his rough jeans.

He brought his lips up to yours again, moving his mouth against yours harshly as you savored the sensation of your saliva mixing with his. He flicked his tongue against your bottom lip, spreading warmth down through your tummy as he dug his fingers into your flesh. 

“I want you,” He mumbled, his lips dragging against your own as he spoke, “I want you so badly.” He breathed out, his nose brushing against your skin as he peppered a kiss against the corners of your lips. 

“Then take me,” You whispered out as you took a hold of his hands. You moved them onto your hips, then began to drag them up the curve of your body. His eyes were dark, his mouth parted as he followed your motions. A surge of confidence filled your body as you placed his palms over your boobs, gasping at the way he began to squeeze them, “I want you too.”

His mouth fell onto yours again, fiery and passionate as he blindly worked on stripping you out of your clothes. You closed your eyes in bliss, licking at his bottom lip as he roughly tugged your shirt off of your shoulders. He moved to your bra next, reaching behind your back to snap it off.

He licked at the crook of your neck, his teeth lightly grazing your skin before he began to decorate your skin in love bites. You raised your hips as you held onto his shoulders, sighing as you raised your hips and he pulled your pants down the curve of your legs.

He pulled back for a moment, his eyes filled with the same fire you felt as he slowly curved his palms against your knees. He squeezed softly, keeping his eyes trailed onto your body as he slowly moved his fingers closer and closer to the band of your panties.

“You’re so beautiful,” He mumbled as he looked at you, causing your breath to hitch as he slowly fell to his knees in front of you. He linked his fingers through the band of your panties, tugging them down slowly as he drank in the image of you, “I’ve wanted this for so long.” 

You didn’t have time to answer, unable to fully comprehend the warm feelings that had filled your chest. His touch was so soft, so sensual. You’d never felt more desirable than you did right now. It made your heart throb, your body twitch in anticipation as he brought his lips against your inner thighs.

He kissed at your flesh slowly, dragging his tongue against every dip and curve as he made the slow trail towards your wet cunt. He gripped the back of your thighs as he pushed your feet up onto the cushions, spreading your legs wide as he inhaled your sweet scent. His lips curled into a soft smile, his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he pressed a gentle kiss against your clit. 

Your whole body lurched, dragging back against the couch as sharp sparks spread through your body. You gaped, parting your lips in awe as you glanced down to the sight between your legs. Steve’s eyes were blown wide, staring at you intensely as he flicked his tongue through your wet folds.

Fire. Everything felt like it was on fire. You were burning from outside in, his tongue flicking through each crevice as he lapped at your folds. Your thighs squirmed at the sensation, your body shaking as he purposely avoided brushing his tongue against your clit. 

Soft moans fell free from your lips as you brought your thumb to your mouth, biting down softly to keep the dirty words from pouring off of your tongue. Your cunt was aching, soaking in the pleasure of Steve’s mouth as you slowly began to rock your hips forward.

He gripped your hips, spreading your legs wider so he could get better access to your cunt. He groaned as he dragged his tongue through your fluttering hole, his strong nose brushing against your clit as he continued to devour the taste of you.

“Steve,” You whined, your fingers falling through his hair again as you gripped the back of his head. You tangled your hands through his thick locks, your hips jerking at the whine that left his lips. Vibrations traveled through your cunt as he continued to groan, sounding as if he was a starving man, “Oh my God.” You breathed out hoarsely, feeling as if you were praying to Steve instead. 

He drew his tongue back towards your folds in a tantalizing manner. He moved slowly, steady as he curled his tongue against your clit. You squirmed again, your nipples hard from the cool air as your body continued to burn hotter and hotter. You were red hot, close to melting as he began to flick his tongue rapidly against your neglected clit.

You cried out, clinging to his hair as he slowly increased the movements of his tongue. He moved more rapidly, more intensely as you almost felt the need to wiggle away from him. It felt good, too good as your breathing became more labored.

You could feel your stomach muscles clenching tightly, your toes curling as the pleasure raced up your spine. It tickled every nerve, every muscle as you felt yourself coming undone underneath him. His large hands squeezed at your thighs, holding them tightly as he kept your legs far apart. 

“Fuck!” You cried out, the profanities rolling off of your tongue before you could help yourself. He kept you still, squeezing his fingertips deep into your flesh as you rode out your orgasm. He licked away your slick just as eagerly, diving into you like he was having a fresh new taste, “Steve.” You whined again, feeling like you were unable to form full sentences from how blissful you felt at the moment. 

He groaned as he pressed his lips against your folds again, flicking his tongue through your crevices one last time as he licked the last of your sweetness away. He looked up at you after, eyes flooded with lust and lips coated in your cum as you suddenly felt more needy than ever before.

You wiggled from his grasp with haste, setting your own urgency as you quickly pressed your lips to his. You licked away the taste of yourself, your stomach twisting in pleasure at the way he moaned against your lips. 

You tugged his shirt over his head, pausing for just a second to admire his mole kissed skin. Your eyes drifted over his thick chest hair, watching as the trail went clear down to his jeans. You moved your hands over his shoulders, touching him gently to reassure yourself that he was real. 

You fell onto your back, giggling as you fell onto the cushions while he moved back onto the couch. He roughly tugged his own jeans and briefs down, barely leaving you a chance to admire him as he positioned himself between your knees.

You quickly sat up on your elbows, determined to get a good look at him as he began to drag his fingertips against your inner thighs. You felt slightly numb, hiding back a moan as you took in how long and thick his cock was. It was pretty too. He was slightly curved and his tip was fat and pink. You knew it wouldn’t leave your mind for the next few weeks. Months. Years. You were smitten by him entirely. 

“I wanted this for a long time,” You finally repeated back, almost shyly as he gave himself a slow jerk with his palm. You watched his features in interest, hoping he’d bear the same expression when he was inside of you, “Please, Steve.” You begged softly, knowing that it was far too late to turn around.

He pulled his lips into the softest grin as he leaned forward, his breath warm and heavy as he barely grazed your mouth. His eyes fluttered close, his features relaxed as he slid his fat tip inside of your wet pussy. You moaned, your mouth falling open wider as your lips dragged against his own. 

The stretch of him was a bit much at first, almost painful. He moved slowly, giving you time to adjust as if he already knew. You held onto his biceps, squeezing softly as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of you. You looked down, slightly in awe at the way your bodies met.

It took only a minute for the pain to erase and for the pleasure to take over. You gasped as your nails dug into his skin, silently begging for more of him as your cunt stretched around him perfectly. You had never felt so filled before, so satisfied. 

Your mind already felt blank, foggy with pleasure as Steve pressed his forehead down upon yours. He groaned in the same manner, making your insides twitch with want as his cool nose touched your cheek. 

He slowly pulled his hips backwards, dragging his slick cock through your fluttering walls before he slammed deep inside of you again. You cried out, feeling the walls with your sounds of pleasure as his breath fanned over your face.

He moved one of your hands from his bicep, gripping your fingers with his instead as he built up a steady rhythm. He brought his lips upon yours slowly, kissing you sensually as he used his other hand to grip your hip and guide you along the length of his long cock.

He rutted into you, rocking his hips as he filled and stretched you in ways you hadn’t been able to imagine. Your kiss became messy, your lips unable to keep up with his as he stole the air from your lungs. The fire only spread, burning from your body onto his as he silenced his own groans with your lips.

The sounds he made were enough to drive you crazy, regardless of how deep his cock was inside of you. He grunted, groaned, whined and whimpered as he pressed his cock in and out of you. You gaped, licking at the corner of his mouth as a bright light of pleasure hit you harshly.

“God!” You cried out, clenching your fingers against his tightly as the tip of his cock nudged against your bundle of nerves, “Oh fuck, right there. Right there, Stevie.” You begged him, pleaded with him as you turned your attention back towards him. 

His features were knitted tightly in pleasure, his pink lips parted in awe as he stared down at you. His expression was filled with lust, but also with something softer. Like he cared. You used your free hand to claw at his back, digging your fingertips into his sweaty skin as you urged him to continue moving in the same manner. 

You were desperate to feel more of him as you savored the way his cock moved inside of your pussy. You gaped at the feeling of his cock curving deep inside of you, pressing against your most desired spots as your slick leaked down between your thighs. The sound of his skin hitting yours rolled off the walls like a symphony. 

“Jesus,” He breathed out harshly, his voice raspy as he let out another guttural whine, “You feel good. Oh fuck.” He spit out just as roughly, his words just as rushed as what yours were. You could feel the connecting strings between the two of you as the waves grew deeper and deeper inside. 

Your body shook as his cock continued to hit against your bundle of nerves. The pleasure washed over you roughly, as the sounds of flesh meeting mixed with the melodies that left your lips. You felt your cunt clamp down around him, squeezing him tightly as you came undone once again.

You continued to shake, your body still twisting in pleasure as his movements became more rapid. He pushed into you harder, his groans becoming louder as you felt his cock throbbing inside of your sensitive walls. 

“Fuck, fuck,” He cursed again, his nose pressing against your cheek as he furrowed his eyebrows tightly, “Oh!” He grunted, mouth falling wide open as he pressed himself as close to you as he could go. You could feel his balls against your skin, warm and wet from the mixture of your arousal. 

You breathed out harshly, still squeezing at his fingers as you felt his cum sinking in against your walls. You took it gladly, savoring the feeling of him as he panted against the side of your face. You turned, looking up at him in bliss.

He was pretty, far too handsome than what he should be. You admired the curve in his face, the lines in his expression as he slowly relaxed against you. You watched the way his lips curved into a smile, how he let out a shaky chuckle before he turned to face you.

He brought his thumb against your cheek, brushing it softly as he looked at you in the same manner. There was something, something forming deep inside of your chest that you didn’t understand. Perhaps your situation wasn’t right, but you couldn’t see how being with someone who made you feel so good could be wrong.

“Can we do that again?” You blurted out, feeling a little silly over your first choice of words after the intense moment you’d just had. He chuckled, looking at you in amusement as his messy hair fell onto his forehead.

“I’d like that,” He mumbled as he dragged his lips against yours again, kissing you sweetly for what still felt like the first time, “How about a date first?” 

[stevesgother]

omg horny blurbs. struggling to take horsedick harrington! ‘its too big baby’

we all know i'm a horsecock steve harrington truther so here ya go anon :)

18 + below the cut

You knew your boyfriend was well endowed, to say the least. A pair of too-tight, blue Levis hates to see Steve Harrington coming. This was your first time seeing it without that pesky denim barrier.

You'd felt it, sure, after three months of heavy petting sessions in the driver's seat of his Chevy. But tonight, things had escalated past the point where the grinding comes to a halt and Steve drives you home like the gentleman he is.

Steve is being anything but a gentleman right now.

Your dress is hiked up past your hips, revealing a pair of baby blue underwear. Not the sexiest pair you owned, but it hardly mattered when Steve started to teasingly slide them down the meat of your thighs.

"You're shaking, honey. Is everything okay?" He asks you so tenderly as he gentle holds your trembling palm in his larger calloused one.

"Yeah-- Yeah, I'm just," a pause, "you're really big." You admit sheepishly.

"We'll go slow, baby, I promise." He reassures you as the hand that's not holding yours strokes the side of your cheek. He kisses you languidly as his thick digits circle your clit tantalizingly slow, "Can I touch you here?"

You nod a little desperately and he hums in acknowledgment. His middle finger breeches your entrance and he curls them inside of you; perfectly bumping your most sensitive spot in a way you've never been able to on your own.

You keen and Steve takes the opportunity to suckle on the spot just below your ear, eliciting a whine from you. You decide you should probably return the favor, even if it's hard to focus on anything except the way Steve is fucking you on his fingers.

His cock is frankly huge. It's not only long but girthy too, with an upward curve. The thought alone of fucking yourself on it makes your mouth water as you wrap a hand around his shaft. He gasps in surprise at the motion, evidently not expecting it. You run a thumb over his leaking, red slit and he groans your name.

"Want you to fuck me, Steve," you whisper against his lips as he begins to kiss you again.

"You're sure?"

You nod fervently and that's all the confirmation he needs to line his head up with your sopping heat. His hands find your hips, lifting you and then slowly lowering you back down until you're able to take him to the hilt.

It's a big stretch. Any partner you might've had in the past could've never prepared you for the sheer size of Steve. It burns deliciously as you're being sheathed with him, but it quickly becomes overwhelming.

"You're too big, baby, I can't"

"Shh," he shushes as he pulls you flush to his chest in a strong embrace, "yes you can, sweetheart, I've got ya'"

Once you're fully seated on him, it's as if you were made to fit. The thatch of hair on his pubic bone provides the perfect amount of stimulation on your throbbing clit as you begin to ride him.

"God-- you're so tight, fuck," he's already panting and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a bit of an ego boost.

His words give you the confidence to bounce on him a bit faster. You can feel him in your stomach, practically rearranging your guts. Every time you sink back down, his ruddy head hits that perfect spot inside you, sending you hurtling towards your orgasm embarrassingly fast.

"Good girl," he groans, "keep bouncing on my cock, baby, that's it."

Whereas before you were more reserved in how vocal you were during sex, now you're crying out without restraint; chanting Steve's name like a prayer.

When he feels himself becoming close, he swiftly moves a thumb to play with your sensitive button-- needing to get you off before himself at least once. His own personal rule.

"Oh! Yeah, Steve-- don't stop, don't stop--" you're all but shouting now.

"I won't, baby, I won't--" he assures, "that's the spot, huh? Can feel you squeezin' me-- ah!"

You come with a cry of his name, your hands tangled in his chestnut hair, giving Steve the greenlight to let himself finish. Both hands grab you abruptly to life your hips enough for him to pull out.

With a few more quick strokes of his cock he's coming with his head thrown back and several heady grunts. You lean forward to kiss and nip at the constellation of beauty marks along his stubbly neck. They're one of the first things you'd noticed about him when you met.

"Was that good for you?" He pants as he comes back down to Earth with you.

You stroke the side of his face with your hand, pushing the damp hairs that stick to his forehead away before kissing the spot where they had been, "That was amazing, Stevie."

He gives you a short peck to your plush and waiting lips before once again pulling you in. You stay just like that, flesh to flesh, and count the stars until the sun rises again to replace the moon.

[jellyfishsthings]

Stolen moments...

Warnings: nothing much, typical stranger things plot, Steve being a cutie ... I guess that's that

Let’s be honest, before everything happened, Steve Harrington was the last person you’d ever picture yourself associating with. King Steve, the preening jock, the guy who seemed perpetually stuck in a hair commercial – your paths simply weren’t meant to cross. Your life was filled with… well, you. You had your own pursuits, your own interests, and a distinct aversion to the kind of superficiality Steve seemed to embody. You had far more pressing things to occupy your mind, far more important battles to wage in the mundane world. Dating the popular guy or even just hanging out with him, was never really on your to-do list. That was until Hawkins decided to rewrite the rules of reality and throw you headfirst into a nightmare you never asked for.

It started subtly, didn't it? A strange feeling in the air, whispers of things unseen, and then, bam, you were dodging interdimensional monsters like it was normal Tuesday. Not that it was ever normal. You remember the first time vividly, the sheer terror as you faced those grotesque, shadowy creatures. The memory still makes your stomach churn, a cold dread that settles deep in your bones even now, during the day. You fought back, yes. You even, to your own twisted surprise, managed to take down a few of them. But those battles came at a cost. The image of their inhuman forms, their chilling screeches, they replay like a broken record behind your eyelids.

Sleep became a battlefield of its own. Night after night, they return, the grotesque entities that haunt your dreams, a grim reminder of what lurks just beyond the veil of the ordinary. The exhaustion became a physical thing, dragging you down like lead weights. And it was visible, dark circles now a permanent fixture beneath your eyes, a stark testament to the horrors that kept you awake in the stillness of the night. These weren't just bad dreams; they were a symptom of a war you'd found yourself unwillingly conscripted into.

And this is where Steve Harrington, the very person you’d deemed inconsequential, started to surprisingly weave himself into the narrative. You hadn't noticed it at first, all you could think about was putting one foot forward, making it through each day without breaking down. You were so focused on the immediate horror that you didn't notice the subtle shifts in routine, the small, almost imperceptible gestures.

It started, ironically enough, at Scoops Ahoy. You were treating yourself, trying to find some semblance of normalcy in a double scoop of strawberry, when you noticed an extra cherry nestled among the ice cream. Just one. Odd, you thought, it never had more than one cherry before. You shrugged it off as a random act by a distracted employee, but the next time, there were two. Each subsequent visit saw the cherry count incrementally increase, making you realise someone was intentionally – and meticulously – adding them to your treat. You glanced up at the counter, catching sight of Steve, his gaze averted, pretending to scrutinize the ice cream flavours. But he couldn't hide the tiny flicker of amusement in his eyes when yours met his.

After that, it became a game of sorts, a quiet acknowledgement that something was amiss and in that shared awareness, a strange sense of comfort began to form. It wasn't a grand declaration, not a full-blown heart-to-heart; it was a silent understanding. When you went to the mini-market for those late-night supplies, he would just happen to be there. It wasn't a deliberate or a planned 'meet-cute' type of thing, more of a casual encounter disguised as happenstance. He'd “accidentally” bump into you by the frozen food aisle, offering a brief, “Hey, how’s your day going?” with a nonchalance that would make an actual accident look theatrical.

It was ridiculous, the way he tried to feign ignorance. It was as if he was playing a role in his own bad rom-com, but it worked. It was a welcome distraction from the internal chaos raging within your mind. Each encounter, no matter how clumsy or poorly executed, was a gentle reminder that life hadn't completely succumbed to the darkness. It was a small, almost insignificant kindness that made a world of difference in your current, messed up life.

He never pushed, never pried. He didn’t ask about the nightmares or the reason for the dark circles that had become a part of your physical makeup. He didn’t need to. He knew, somehow that the mere knowledge of your struggles was enough to drive him to help. He didn't try to be a hero, or a saviour. He didn't offer empty platitudes or hollow reassurances. Instead, he offered something far more valuable: a sense of normalcy, an assurance that sometimes, life could be as simple as extra cherries in your ice cream or a casual "Hey" at the mini-market.

This was Steve, the King turned reluctant guardian, the one person you never expected to understand, now quietly trying to soothe the very wounds he couldn't even begin to see. It was a peculiar kind of comfort, hidden within his awkward attempts at nonchalance, a silent testament to the unspoken bond that had inexplicably formed between you.

You might still have a hard time processing this new reality of the world, where monsters lurk in the shadows and seemingly trivial encounters can become a lifeline. You’re still trying to understand the depths of this unexpected war you’ve been pulled into. But there is one thing you know for sure, that even in this chaos, you're not entirely alone. Steve, in his own clumsy, endearing way, is there, a quiet presence offering a much-needed reprieve, proving that sometimes, the most unexpected connections can be the most meaningful, and that the true measure of a person isn't in their crown, but in the small acts of kindness they offer in the dark. You never thought you'd say this, but you're glad he's there, even if it’s just for the extra cherries.

[water-loos]

Forever

“I’m glad I get forever to see where you end.”

steve harrington x bookish!shy!fem!reader

masterlist

cw: fluff. fluff. FLUFF!!! based around “forever” by noah kahan. steve is such a cutie pie

wc: 2.5k

a/n: happy valentine’s day!! i’ve had this sitting unfinished in my notes for months and thought today was the day to finish it. here’s boyfriend steve for u all <3

You had dreamed of a whirlwind. Just like the storybooks that lived on your bookshelf, you wanted someone to sweep you off your feet and give you the fairytale life you’d always dreamed of. You wanted a small house near a creek, and a front yard with wildflowers, and a forest green front door.

But you were not dealt the dream life cards.

Love passed you by and by, over and over. Never once had you successfully found someone who made your heart beat out of your chest, no matter how hard you tried to make the people you talked to “the one”. It just never happened, especially in a city full of millions of people, which made it easier for people to become strangers. It was lonely, and sometimes depressing, but it was simply how the cookie crumbled for you.

You had gotten used to failed romance after failed romance by the time you had finished your first year of college, and devoted your time to school work and living your life to the fullest. It was rewarding and simple, and it was a happy enough life for you.

Generally, you spent your summer days walking through the giant park and green spaces that lined the shoreline of Chicago, gazing over the clear blue water with a pink lemonade in your hand. You quietly watched families marvel at Buckingham Fountain when the music played every hour, and lounged on the hill behind the aquarium as bikers avoided tourists on the path beside the lake. It was peaceful, and you liked how far away the city seemed from there, nothing but buildings across a lake that was hitting against the wall loud enough to drown out a lot of background noise.

You were walking to the hill on a sunny Wednesday in July, sunglasses perched on your nose and a book in your hand just dying to be read when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Initially, the contact caused you to bristle with irritation, because you were just a few steps away from your favorite spot, but as soon as you saw the prettiest boy you’d ever seen holding your bookmark, you didn’t have it in you to be upset.

He was boyishly handsome, with a lopsided smile and eyes like pools of honey. His face had freckles sparsely placed on his cheeks and jaw, with a cluster right on the bridge of his nose. His hair was mussed just enough, and he looked like he had been running to catch you, his cheeks pink. Your heart sped up at the sight of him.

“You found my bookmark!” You said softly, cheeks pink as you took it from his outstretched hand. “Thank you so much. I would have gone crazy if I had lost that.”

“Bench girl,” He muttered, eyes a little wide. He watched your eyebrows furrow as you stepped back a little. He panicked to correct himself. “Sorry, it’s no problem. You’re the girl that sits on the bench by the fountain every day.”

You snorted a little, embarrassed. “I am, yeah. That’s crazy that you recognize me.”

“I run through the park every afternoon and stop by the fountain to cool down,” He explained, smiling wide. It made your stomach flutter. “I’ve been working up the courage to make some sort of conversation for a couple weeks now, actually.”

You laughed quietly at that, blushing a little harder. “Really? You should have. I don’t bite, I promise.”

“Well, now I have an excuse,” He nodded toward the bookmark and holds out his hand. “Hi. I’m Steve.”

———

You saw Steve very often after that day in the park. He came and sat with you on your bench every day, he’d walk you to your spot on the hill and lounge like something out of a french painting with his wired headphones and a notebook while you read. He’d ask you about your books every night over text messages, and he’d call you at least once in the morning from his car to make sure you’d be at your bench waiting for him. You’d tell him that you weren’t waiting for him, and he’d do that stupid little laugh of his and say “Sure you aren’t.”

Then he’d started to bring you a fresh basket of blueberries from his favorite farmers market for your time on the hill. And he bought you a picnic blanket that folded up just enough to fit in the thin backpack he ran with, and he’d sneak pressed flowers into the folds. Then you started to find post it notes in your mailbox, and he’d video call you when he was in his cramped kitchen, and he’d tell you all about how he bought an entire recipe book full of baked goods that he was going to make for you.

It felt like you were living in a world you didn’t know existed. It was so unbelievably perfect, the way Steve had wedged a place into your daily routine. He was patient with you, understanding from your long winded goodnight calls that you were a little out of your depth, and made sure to let you know how much he wanted to be in your life. Not just in a romantic capacity, no matter how many times he’d look at you as if you were everything, but as someone you could rely on. He’d always answer you. He’d drop anything he was doing if you needed him, and he told you that on a regular basis.

He wanted to do life with you, and the thought of doing life with Steve finally felt right.

You had invited him inside after your daily walk after a sudden snowstorm on Valentine’s Day when you decided to tell him. The two of you were dried off and bundled in the warmest sweater you could find in your closet, lounging on your couch as some movie you didn’t know the name of played in the background. You had a mug of hot chocolate that he had made for you cradled between your hands when you decided, and the moment had come after you took a sip and dared to look up at him for the first time in half an hour. He was the picture of comfortable in your commemorative Cape Cod hoodie, with the blanket your grandmother had crocheted for you draped across his legs, his eyes glued to the screen in front of him. His hair was still a little damp from the rain, and he had his head propped up on his hand on the arm of the couch, smushing his cheek. He looked more perfect than you thought was possible right then, and something about that image was enough for your apprehension to open yourself up to him to disappear.

“Hey Steve,” You said quietly, setting your mug on the coffee table gently. Your voice caught his attention immediately, his head rising.

With that smile that stopped your heart every single day, he turned slightly toward you. “Hey, pretty.”

“Y’know how you told me you’d be upset if I wasn’t in your life months ago?”

“Yes. I’d be devastated.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

“Of course I do,” His eyes softened ever so slightly as he turned fully toward you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“I’m just thinking, that’s all,” You shrugged, cheeks warm. “I know I’ve been kind of… behind. On the whole us thing.”

“Behind?”

“I don’t know. You’ve been trying to ask me out since we met, and I never said yes,” You sucked in a tiny breath. “Just wanted to make sure if that offer still stands.”

Steve lit up, sitting a little straighter and leaning toward you. “Do you want the offer to still stand?”

“I really hope it does.”

His hand reached out to grab yours, his touch that you hadn’t purposefully felt before gentle and soft against your skin. “It always stands. It’s been standing since I came up to give your that bookmark.”

“Good. I’d really really really like to be your girlfriend. Or at least your Valentine. Or whatever you want me to be. Even though it took me forever.”

He used your intertwined hands to pull you toward him, your knees knocking as you moved toward him on the couch. Your heart pumped out of your chest as you fit beside him perfectly, bodies clicking together like puzzle pieces. “I’d wait for you forever if you needed me to, sweetheart.”

“Am I worth forever?”

“You’re worth everything.”

Your heart soared. You didn’t think you were anything much to almost anyone in the past, but when Steve said everything, you believed him. You believed him so much that you think something inside of you changed.

That change spurred you to lean up from your spot and kiss him with the force of your beating heart. You kissed him with all of the feelings you had been ignoring, you kissed him to make up for all of the times you should have, and you kissed him to tell him that he was worth everything to you too.

His opposite arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close and kissed back with the same amount of care and adoration. There was a slight smile on his lips, you could feel it.

Once the two of you broke for a breath, he laughed. It was the sweetest sound, like birdsong in the mornings.

“I don’t have any prospects,” He snorted softly, a hand coming up to brush your hair away from your face. “You sure you want little old me?”

“When have I ever cared about prospects?”

“I don’t know. I’ve looked at the books you read,” He laughed a little louder, and you did too. “I’m not one of those super awesome badass romance book guys. Just making that clear.”

“I think you’re a super awesome badass romance book guy,” You shook your head slightly. “Better than one, actually.”

“Really? Y’think so?” He grew soft again, his head cocking slightly. It made your head spin.

“Of course I do. You bring me pastries and flowers and you call me just because and you stop on your walk and mess up your run time just for me,” You list off, maneuvering yourself to let your legs drape over his and your hands came up to rest in the dips of his shoulders, fingers tapping as you spoke. “Those are the most romantic things anyone has ever done for me. And you do them just because. That rocks.”

“I’m glad you think it rocks, sweetheart,” He laughs softly. “That’s exactly what I was looking for.”

“It’s also not like I have any prospects either. I had to save up for your Valentine’s Day gift.”

“What? You got me a gift?” His face became entirely animated, his confusion so evident on his face that it made you laugh. “Were you planning on asking me out all day?”

“No, I wasn’t. Well, not like that at least. I was gonna hype myself up, and then ask you to come over for dinner, and then do this whole thing, but then we got snowed in and you just looked so cozy so I just did it,” You rambled, cheeks warming steadily. “It sounds so much more embarassing saying it out loud.”

“That’s adorable, actually. Your gift should be showing up soon, though. I had it at home but I’m having my roommate drive it over because I don’t want to leave,” He smiles, proud of himself. “You’re gonna freak out.”

“If you got me something crazy I swear to god—“

“It’s nothing crazy. I just really think I did a good job at picking a gift.”

“Can I at least show you what I got you before you declare that you one upped me?” You laugh again, swinging your legs off of him to get up. He let you go, watching as you walked toward your kitchen to grab the gift. You walked back over with a medium-sized red bag, plopping yourself right back in his lap as you presented it to him. “Ta-da.”

He kissed your cheek over and over again, paying no mind to the bag you were holding for him. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I wanted to. It isn’t much but I got you stuff that I know you’ve been needing so I hope it’s alright.”

“You could give me a bag of trash and I’d be happy as a clam. Trust me,” He hummed and looked into the bag, his eyes somehow growing wider and his lips parting slightly. “Sweetheart, what’s all this?”

“Well,” You reached forward to take out the few items that were in the bag. “I got you a pocket gourmet recipe book so you don’t have to lug around the big one whenever you go home to visit your family, and I got you a recipe notebook so you can put your own in one place.”

He gaped, flipping through the empty leather bound recipe notebook. He stopped a few pages in, reading over some of the recipes that you had put into it already. They were a few fun dinners that the two of you had created together, with silly doodles and informal language all over the pages.

“I put a few in there already. And then, this is a new hand bound notebook that I made in my leatherwork class. I know you’ve been using a regular notebook to draw in and journal in because you filled your old one, so I made it with the dotted paper just how you like it,” You handed that to him, flipping it over to show him the monogram you pressed into it. “And then there’s new drawing pencils and I made some macarons. They’re vanilla and cinnamon.”

His jaw fully dropped after you finished speaking, causing you to laugh softly.

“Baby, you’re kidding, right?” He slowly turned his head toward you, cheeks pink and a glistening layer over his eyes. “This is what you consider not much?”

“Well, yeah. It’s just stuff you needed. The only thing that’s like Valentine’s-y is the macarons—“

“I literally think I might cry. Seriously,” He quickly put everything in the bag, throwing his arms around you and burying his head into your neck. “Thank you. So much. That’s the best and most thoughtful thing anyone has ever bought me.”

“You deserve it,” You murmured into his hair, letting your fingers play with the shorter hair at the back of his neck. “Do you still think you one-upped me?”

“Hell no. You won. Like knocked it out of the park won.”

“Good. You’ve been so good to me for so long, and it’s time I returned the favor.”

[allergictosoup]

god i need him like water

steve harrington and sweeping you off your feet.

he’d just got off his closing shift at family video, the kind of tired that’s bone-deep and has him aching everywhere, in a sour mood and grumbling.

he hasn’t seen you all day. he’s only been wanting to see you all day; your pretty face and lilting voice and radiant smile that rivals the very warmth of the sun. all he wants to do is kiss, kiss, kiss you stupid.

he’s about to get what he wants.

“hi, stevie!” you’re perched like the perfect little bird by his car, hair fluttering in the breeze that drifts around you like it’s made to. you’re so pretty, he almost doesn’t make it to you and melts on the spot.

“angel,” steve breathes as he all but shoves himself into your space, strong arms winding around your waist and squeezing tight, tightly, face finding home in the crook of your neck. you smell great, he thinks, you’re practically beauty incarnate. his dream girl.

“angel, angel, angel,” you bury your fingers into his hair and scratch at his scalp, reveling in the quiet groan he lets out when he relaxes into your embrace. “i missed you so, so much.”

“i missed you too, sweet boy,” you mumble against his temple, sealing it against his skin with a gentle kiss. “missed your pretty face all day.”

suddenly, your feet are leaving the ground and you’re swung around, gasping as your hands slip from steve’s hair and tighten around his shoulders in a death grip. you can hear his elated chuckling, almost giggling, as he spins you round and round and round. “steve! let me down! i’m getting dizzy!”

he puts you down and hugs you close, so close you arch a little into him. you stick your fingers back in his hair when he kisses you stupid; not rough or mean, but firm and oozing with sticky adoration. it makes you dizzy for real.

[katyswrites]

put on your records (and regret me)

PART 4 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: asshole!Steve, rivals-to-lovers, swearing, fingering, dry humping, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 4.3k

Playlist

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your safe space, your niche. It’s where you’ve made your friends, your favorite place to be when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

Steve Harrington is a thorn in your side. And just as well - he thinks you’re a royal pain in the ass. But in your senior year, you’re both on the e-board, so you have to work together. You love to hate him. So why can’t you get him out of your head? And, why do you find yourself going to see his band, each and every weekend?

Underground basement concerts, spinning old records, and screaming matches in the vinyl library with the boy you love to hate. An enemies-to-lovers college radio station 90s AU.

TRACK 4

After your encounter backstage with Steve, you consider a few options.

Make a beeline for the roof of the building and try to jump off, hopefully to your untimely death. Or - 

- return to the floor, watch the rest of the show, and act like everything is normal. 

It takes you most of the walk back down the hallway to pick the second, admittedly more logical, option.

You make your way back to the crowd in the venue, shouldering your way through packed bodies and pulling the bottom of your shoes off the sticky floor until you manage to spot Nancy.

“You okay?” she asks, her brow furrowed with worry - you were gone far too long for a bathroom run.

“Yeah, just a long line,” you lie, your voice higher-pitched than you’d like it to be. If Nancy notices, she doesn’t say anything.

You just do your best to stare straight ahead, and pretend to be captivated by the band on stage. In truth, they’re only okay - but it doesn’t matter, because at least you don’t have to look at him up there.

It’s then that you only know one thing for certain - you’re going to have to spend the rest of the school year completely avoiding Steve. That, of course, is virtually impossible. Unless -

For a brief, fleeing moment, the thought of quitting the radio station crosses your mind. In general, it’s the only time you see him - the university’s campus is big enough that you rarely encounter him in any other context. Though, knowing your luck, somehow he’ll suddenly start popping up on your regular walk to class now, making himself known across campus at your inconvenience.

Still… quitting the station really brings the chances of seeing him again down to nearly zero.

No, you can’t - you’re not going to stop doing your favorite thing because of him. That’s how Steve wins - maybe that’s been his plan all along, actually. You wouldn’t put that past him. You want to smack yourself for even considering the possibility - you’re in charge of the place, and you’d screw over a lot of people if you quit in the middle of the semester.

You’re still thinking about Steve, despite doing everything in your power not to. You’re thinking about him as the last band leaves the stage, as you drive home with Nancy, and even later that night as you’re lying in bed, willing yourself to go to sleep.

As you stare at your ceiling, you try to rationalize what happened. Maybe it didn’t happen at all, and it was some strange dream. But, you think about the taste of him, his rough hands wandering along your soft skin, the way he sounded as he -

You sit up, groaning as your head falls into your hands. You’re so unbelievably fucked.

*****

That Thursday, you do something you’ve never done before - you call out of your radio show, for no real reason. Most DJ’s aren’t allowed to call out more than three times a semester. You’ve missed your show exactly twice before this in the last 3 years - once due to having a horrible fever, the other due to your grandfather’s funeral. So, when you call the station to say you’ll be missing your show (and Eddie picks up the phone, because of course he does), he’s surprised enough that you have to pretend you’re sick. You’re not sure he buys your performance, but he just says he’ll cross you out of the schedule, allowing you to keep up the charade.

Still, you can’t stay away forever. You do your best to focus on other things - schoolwork, friends, and not Steve. It doesn’t matter that you keep a keen eye out as you walk across campus, your heart speeding up as you spot another guy with his silhouette and a similar mop of hair walking ahead of you, only to feel relief when he turns around and reveals he’s not who you thought he was.

You still end up seeing him sooner than you’d hoped, though - you thought you’d avoid him until the following Thursday, when you inevitably had to come into the studio and do your radio show after skipping the last one. But no - instead, there’s a meeting at the station this Sunday, because of course there is. You had scheduled it, of course, but that was before what happened at the show.

You just try to put him out of your mind beforehand, instead focusing on the agenda and main talking points - after all, it’s your job. If there’s one thing you love, it’s planning things - down to the minute, if possible. Here’s the problem with station meetings, though - the board meets beforehand, just as a small group, to go over everything before the rest of the DJs arrive. This has always been a bit of an inconvenience for you, thanks to Steve’s exasperating presence - now, you need it about as much as a hole in the head. 

That morning, you’re the first to arrive - that’s to be expected. You unlock the station door and head into your tiny, messy office, pulling out your notes to go over with the rest of the board when they arrive - if they arrive. Perhaps Steve’s poor attendance record would continue today, and you won’t have to deal with him at all. You sigh, spotting the CD box in the corner. Bands and artists mail in their music all the time, hoping to be put on-air in the ongoing new music rotation. DJs can even take CDs home to review them, list some favorite songs, and note the explicit tracks that can’t be played on-air. Then, it’s your job to sort all the CDs by genre and shelve them in the studio, so other students in the station can find them easily. But right now, the box is overflowing - you’d probably have to stay after the meeting to sort it out. You sigh again, bemoaning the less-than glamorous parts of your job. 

You hear the station door open, signaling someone’s arrival. You tense, hearing the footsteps walking towards your office door. It’s enough to make you whirl around, only to relax when you see Darius posp his head in.

“Hey - anyone else here yet?”

You breathe a sigh of relief, shaking your head as you return to organizing your notes strewn across your desk.

“Um, no - I only just got here a few minutes ago.”

He nods, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Cool - hey, did I spot you at Fuze Box on Saturday?”

Even the mention of it makes your adrenaline spike.

“Oh - yeah. You did a great job - emceeing, that is -”

He laughs. “Thanks. I get paid exactly zero dollars, but they said I can have any of their old equipment that I want, since they just upgraded everything. Speaking of which, I think I can score a few new mics to replace the ones without going into the budget - I mean, I’ll talk about it at the meeting -”

“Yeah, sounds good -” you say absentmindedly, eyes widening as you see something on your desk that catches your eye. Darius is still chatting, but you’ve stopped listening.

“Talk about it in a bit -” you add quietly, trying to politely dismiss him. He gets the message and steps out, presumably heading to the lounge. You hear a few more people shuffling in outside your door. But, that’s not what interests you right now. Instead, it the note on your desk, written on the back of an old napkin.

Meet me in the vinyl library, after meeting. After they’re all gone.

It’s not signed, but you can now recognize the handwriting well enough. When did he leave this? 

He must mean today, after the meeting… after they’re all gone. He knows you’ve been avoiding him… but you can’t avoid him here. You examine it for a moment, picking it up and flipping it in your hands. There’s nothing else written, no other information. You crumple it up, tossing it in the small garbage can beside your desk. Your mind is racing - what’s he up to now? You remember the conversation about the vinyl library at the party a few weeks ago, and you feel your face heat. There’s no way he actually wants to -

Your train of thought is interrupted by a soft knock on your door. You jump slightly, and clear your throat.

“Yeah?”

Eddie pokes his head in.

“Hey - everyone’s here.”

You nod, offering a small smile as you grab your notebook.

“Right - thanks,” you say quietly, following him out towards the station lounge.

Sure enough, the whole E-board is there - Darius, Eddie, Argyle, Chrissy Cunningham, Diego Hernandez, Lucas Sinclair… and, of course, Steve.

You cast a glance around the room as you enter, and offer a friendly smile, but decidedly ignore Steve.

“Hey, everyone - thanks for coming out on a Sunday… I hope nobody’s too hungover,” you say, glancing down at your notebook. There’s a sprinkle of laughs.

“Okay, so - you guys know the drill… when the rest of the station members get here, everyone can say their piece about anything important pertaining to their position… I just wanted us to meet first, in case anyone had something specific they wanted to bring up to me, or other members of the board before everyone arrives. Also, reminder that Nancy’s not here today because of her internship, but she gave me her notes…so, what’ve you guys got?”

It’s only at the end of your spiel that you look up, glancing around. Steve is staring right at you - the bastard.

Darius raises his hand - a relief. You call on him, and listen as he starts going on about the secondhand equipment he procured for the station from the Fuze Box. You stare right at him as he speaks, feeling Steve’s stare burning a hole through your head from across the room.

The next hour or so flies by - the larger group of student DJs arrive, and everyone makes announcements. Eddie mentions the new time slot for his training show, Lucas brings up how he needs to take over other people’s slots if they fall during the university’s sporting events for commentary, Chrissy talks a bit about fundraising for the station’s music festival in the spring - pretty typical fare for a station meeting. When you finally get to Steve, you’re forced to finally acknowledge him.

“Harrington,” you say, matter-of-fact. “Any updates?”

Steve just stares at you for a moment, perhaps a moment too long, and shakes his head. 

“Nope - nothing from me.”

You sigh.

“Nothing from the Program Director, at all?”

It’s not fair to do this in front of everyone else, you know that, but you’re too tired of his shit to really care.

He rolls his eyes.

“Nope - I’m already doing my job perfectly - thanks, though.”

There’s a smattering of snickers and whispers throughout the room. You ignore it, holding his gaze as you cross your arms.

“Fine - glad you’re so sure of yourself, Harrington,” you say curtly.

There’s a moment of awkward silence, nobody really sure what to say. You don’t break eye contact with Steve, refusing to surrender. After somebody behind you awkwardly clears their throat, Steve finally relents.

“Fine - um - everyone cool it with the explicit tracks on the air, or the FCC wil be on our asses - I’m looking at you, Munson.”

There’s a cry of protest from Eddie’s side of the room, followed by a series of laughs, and the tense moment has passed.

Steve holds your gaze for a moment later, then you look away. After opening the floor to questions and concerns, the meeting is dismissed not long after, with most students scattering, and a few hanging back to mingle.

As always, a bit of a line forms to talk to you - station members with all kinds questions, like asking when the second mic in the studio will be fixed (probably never), if they can have their non-DJ friends on-air (they can’t), and an abundance of other questions that you have gone over a thousand times already this year. This is typical, and you get occupied enough that you almost completely forget about Steve and his antics. Nearly an hour after the meeting, the last few students filter out, leaving you alone at last. You still have most of the afternoon left, and know you need to get home to finish up some homework and run some errands. You head into your office just to put away the meeting notes, and sigh - the box of CDs is still haunting you in the corner.

It’s better left alone - a problem for another day. You stil give in, and crouch down to pick it up. As you turn to bring it to your desk, you see someone standing in the doorway. You yelp, and the box of CDs goes crashing to the floor.

“Jesus Christ -”

“Nope, just me,” Steve says, pulling himself off of where he’s leaning against the doorframe to help pick up the mess.

“Were you just standing there watching me?” you ask, stooping down again to join him in picking up the debris.

“No - I just didn’t want to make a noise and scare you -”

“Nice job with that” you mutter, placing stacks of CDs into the box.

“So, were you just planning to avoid me forever?” he asks casually, handing you some more albums.

“I’m not avoiding you” you say, refusing to meet his eyes. Even you know that you don’t sound that convincing.

He scoffs. “Yeah, okay.”

You sigh, looking up at him.

“What do you want from me?”

“Did you get my note?” he asks nonchalantly.

“Yeah - you’re like goddamn a carrier pigeon.”

He laughs, a real laugh, and it just pisses you off more.

“Fine? You want to talk? Then talk - I’m busy, I have places to be -”

“Why do you think I don’t?”

You roll your eyes. “Probably because our meeting ended an hour ago, and you’re still here, you stalker.”

“I’m the stalker?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He rolls his eyes, and takes a step closer. “Everywhere I turn, there you are, being a pain in my ass -”

“Oh, so you finally know how I feel!” you retort, crossing your arms. “Am I avoiding you, or always up your ass? Make up your mind, Harrington!”

“Why did you do it?” he asks.

“Do what?”

“You know what -”

You feel your face heat, and shake your head.

“Let’s just pretend that never happened -”

“Why? You seemed to want it pretty bad -”

“Shut up -” you insist, avoiding his eyes.

“Be honest - what would’ve happened if Robin didn’t interrupt?” he asks, his voice lower, rougher. You just shake your head, refusing to look at him.

“C’mon, princess - you can’t just pretend it didn’t happen -”

“Oh, I most certainly can.”

“Well I can’t,” he says firmly, closing the little space there is between you two. “I’ve been thinking about it - about you - a lot -”

“Harrington, just stop it right there - I don’t like you, you don’t like me - we’re not friends -”

“I know,” he murmurs. “My friends don’t kiss me like you did.”

You hear your own breath hitch, and want to kick yourself.

“We aren’t -” 

“I know we aren’t… anything,” he replies, his face close enough that you feel his breath. “You’re stubborn, a pain in my ass, and even a stuck-up bitch sometimes.”

“Hey -”

“But - I can’t get the way you sounded out of my head.”

He slowly extends his leg behind him, hitting the office door with his foot to slam it shut.

“Harrington -” you breathe, his nose brushing yours.

“You gonna push me away, princess?” he asks softly.

You’re barely finished shaking your head before his lips are crashing into yours. You don’t protest, don’t fight him. Instead, you kiss him back, demanding. He smiles against your lips, and groans when your fingers find their way into his hair, tugging on the chestnut locks.

“You’re right - I hate you -” you breathe.

“Shut up -” he grumbles, capturing your lips again.

He presses you against the desk, his hands on your waist. 

You gasp as his tongue enters your mouth.

“I - I can’t -”

“Princess - shut the fuck up, for once, and just -”

He emits a deep, guttural groan, as you bring your thigh between his legs, finding a bulge there. The sound makes you feel warm and tingly.

“Fuck it -” he growls, lifting you up with less effort than you and anticipated, sitting you on your desk. You gasp, and his lips are on your neck.

“Tell me to stop” he whispers into your skin.

“No,” you breathe spreading your legs as he comes to stand between them.

“Thank God,” he sighs, his lips finding yours again. 

“Harrington -” you whine, too turned on to care about your dignity right now.

“I know,” he whispers, his lips swollen, face flushed.

“I wanna touch you,” he murmurs, and it sends warmth right to your core. You nod, and he looks like a kid on Christmas, reaching down to unbutton your jeans.

You know you should stop - that you’ll regret this, that he’ll never let you live it down - but all you can think about is how good his lips taste.

He gets your pants shoved down only a bit, just enough that he can reach down and cup you through your panties. You moan, and he chuckles.

“That’s the sound I’ve been thinkin’ about.”

You smack his arm, and his lips find their way back to your neck. You throw your head back to give him better access.

“So fuckin’ wet,” he mumbles, feeling your panties. “This for me?”

“You - you wish,” you say weakly, knowing how ridiculous it sounds as you’re actively bucking into his hand.

“Can I -”

“Yes,” you breathe, exasperated.

He doesn’t need to hear it twice, pulling your underwear down to meet your jeans, neither even making it halfway down your thigh.

He tentatively runs is finger along your slit, and you whine, gripping his shoulders.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked -”

“Shut up -”

“Why?”

“I don’t need you - fuck - commenting on - just touch me -”

You bring your thigh up between his legs, and he grinds down, his arousal straining against his jeans evident. It spurs him to listen to you, and coat his fingers in your arousal. He moans, and you smile against his lips.

“What is it?” he asks, breathless.

“I finally figured out how to make you - oh, god - do what I tell you -”

“Never,” he insists, his finger circling your clit. You cry out, eyes fluttering shut.

You shouldn’t like this - but you do. You like how he groans and sighs against your mouth, how his nose presses into your cheek, like he wants to devour you. You like that he kisses you like he knows what he’s doing, that tells you he knows how a girl likes to be touched.

So you let him touch you - you let him toy with your clit, slip a finger inside, then two. You clench around him, moaning with every crook of his fingers, every motion of his thumb on your clit. It’s wrong - letting the boy you’ve sworn to hate finger you on your desk, where anyone can walk in. But, damnit, it turns you on, too.

He’s grinding his crotch against your thigh, desperate for friction, and you let him. 

“Fuck - Harrington - m’gonna - I’m close to -”

“Christ - you can’t say shit like that to me -” he growls, his voice wrecked.

You just whimper, grabbing his face and pulling him back in for a messy, desperate kiss. It feels filthy, but you don’t want to stop.

When you cum, it’s sudden, your cunt clenching around his fingers. You moan into his neck, pulling on his hair as he continues his ministrations, working you through your orgasm. He thrusts against your thigh, grunts loudly, then stills.

For a few moments, neither of you speak - the only sound in the room is both of your labored breathing, his heart pounding against yours. 

It takes only a few moments for the reality to set in. You pull back, letting go of him quickly, and clear your throat.

“Um - did you - do you need -”

“No,” he admits, a bit sheepish. It takes you a moment to realize, then you let out a laugh.

“What?”

“You came in your pants? What are you, 13?”

“Fuck off -”

You roll your eyes, and use your knee to nudge him away, shimmying your underwear and pants back up your hips quickly.

He stands back, looking away as he rubs the back of his neck.

“So - um -”

“I should go,” you say quickly, your post-orgasm bliss being overtaken with a distinct sense of embarrassment. In fact, you’re mortified. 

You don’t look at him as you grab your bag, making a beeline for the door.

“Hey -” he starts, his voice hoarse.

“Don’t -” you cut him off, wanting to shrink into yourself - he’ll never let you live this down. Hell, you’ll never let yourself live it down. You stop in the doorway, and take in the sight of him - face flushed, hair mussed, and a notable dark spot forming in his jeans. You smirk when you see it, and look away quickly when he looks down, face going red.

“I - if you ever told anyone I -” 

You scoff.

“Like I’d advertise this,” you say, voice laced with contempt. Before he can respond, you’re gone, slamming the door on your way out.

author's note: hi everyone! I know it's been forever... I took a much-needed break from Tumblr, and writing in general. But, I want to get back into it, because I miss it! Plus, seeing Djo back in action has really given me some inspiration for this fic in particular. I don't know when the next part will be posted, but it won't be crazy long again. I always appreciate likes, reblogs, and comments!

[crappymixtape]

among the stars • part one

PART I • PART II • PART III • PART IV • PART V • PART VI ❝ summer ended and everyone went back to school or to indianapolis for ‘real’ jobs – steve’s friends practically begged him to come to the city with them at the end of the summer, couch surf in their apartment until he finds work, but he decides to stay until one rainy night in october something happens – someone happens – and it changes the course of his life forever • 18+ | ( 1.3k, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, smut, extraterrestrials, steve x reader )

B U R N I N G I N T H E D A R K 🎶 oneonta, the album leaf

Rain was coming down in sheets, gathering in the street drains clogged with leaves and filling with water, the yellow quilt-striped center lines drowned out and leaving the road black. A clap of thunder shook the picture frames on the walls of Steve’s apartment, the glass window panes flexing creakily, pulling him up from his spot on the couch as his lamp flickered.

The worst storm Hawkins had seen in years, and of course it hit on Halloween night, scattering any hopes of trick-or-treating into the howling wind.

Pressing a hand to his window, Steve watched the stand of trees at the property line bend like rubber. “Christ…” he murmured, his breath fogging the glass as his eyes narrowed, struggling to see anything out there in the thick, black night.

Ring, ring, ring!

“Shit–”

Steve jumped at the landline jingling from the kitchen wall, heart hammering against his ribcage as he grabbed it off the base, “Hello?”

“Steve? Why do you sound like you just shit yourself?” Robin’s voice crackled through static from the storm.

“I didn’t just shit myself–”

“Do you see this outside?? It’s insane!”

“Yeah, yeah. I see it.”

“On Halloween too! Do you think it’s a curse or something? A witch coming back from the dead to wipe our sorry asses off the planet for burning her at the stake?”

“Robin.”

“Oh! Or that weird guy that lives in the creepy house over by the park? Maybe he’s been like…haunted by a poltergeist or something and it’s telling him to possess our bodies and–”

“Robin.”

“What?”

“It’s just a storm,” Steve said, trying to sound unbothered and completely unaffected by her farfetched theories, but something in the way the wind howled around the corner of his apartment made his skin crawl.

“O-kayyy,” Robin teased in her sing-songy voice, “But when your door gets busted down by some slimy green swamp thing don’t come crying to me.”

“Swamp thing? Robin, you gotta stop watching–”

CRACK!

Lightning split the sky in two, a perfectly blinding fracture, and made it look like the daylight for a second before plunging everything into dark.

“Ste-eve, are-are you st-still th-ere?” Robin’s voice crackled over the line, cutting out as another flash spidered across the horizon.

“What? Robin, you’re cutting out–”

“Can’t-can’t he-ear yo-ou, Ste-e-ve, Ste–”

BOOM!

Another blinding flash of light lit up the dark like the other two, but this one was different. Just as the phone line cut out, a crash sounded followed by an explosion – a bright, orange, burning glow in the trees out Steve’s window.

“What the hell–”

Shielding his eyes with his arm, he could feel the heat coming from the fire that was catching in the dead leaves on the ground, licking up the bare tree trunks. His eyes slowly adjusted against the harsh contrast and the longer he looked the more he realized it hadn’t been a normal lightning strike.

There, at the end of a deep groove cut into the dirt, was a small aircraft of some kind. The windshield was busted out and just a couple feet away from the fire was a body.

And they were moving.

“Oh, shit. Oh, god. Shit, shit, shit–I’m coming! I’m coming!” Steve yelled into his apartment, scrambling to shove his feet into his beat up Blazers, jacket only half-on as he grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen and barreled down the stairs out into the trees.

“Hey! Can you hear me? Hang on! I’m coming! I’m coming!”

Stumbling over fallen branches and overgrown blackberries, Steve felt the thorns ripping at his jacket, one particularly nasty one smarting across his cheek, but he couldn’t stop, he was almost there. He could see the person struggling to pull themselves up against a tree trunk, trying to get to safety.

The fire was huge now, engulfing the aircraft in angry, white-hot flames, and the heat was overwhelming, suffocating and pressing in on every part of him. If there was any gas left, there’d be another, bigger, explosion, and soon based on when it’d crashed. He had to get whoever it was to safety.

Tripping on a root, Steve caught himself just as he reached the crash site.

“Shit–how’d you make it out of there? There’s hardly anything left of it–Jesus–this is bad, this is really bad–” he rambled, the words spilling from his mouth as he watched the flames, panic surging through him like a livewire.

A whimper of pain pulled his attention back to the survivor and he shook himself into action, this was not the time for overthinking.

Scrambling over to the tree, Steve crouched down next to the stranger, holding his flashlight overhead to get a better look at their wounds, and he nearly dropped it at the sight before him.

Long turquoise hair, like seaglass and the glittering water down at the quarry, skin tinged purple, shimmering and soft like moths wings in the beam of light, and ears that tapered into points at the ends. They were wearing what looked like a space suit of sorts, but it was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Made from fabric darker than ink and covered in tiny grids of light, blinking in reds and yellows, error, caution, alert.

Leaning in closer, Steve gently pushed stray locks of hair aside and suddenly it felt like the fire had made its way under his skin, but softer. Warmer. Glowing. Strange and curious and he couldn’t help reaching out a hand, his fingertips ghosting over cheeks dotted in indigo freckles, tiny constellations he felt an overwhelming urge to discover.

“Who are you…” he whispered, eyes catching the fragile flutter of a heartbeat at their neck, “…where did you come from?”

And the low, warmth of his voice slowly lifted your eyes open.

Someone, a someone not like you, was close.

Too close.

Danger.

Danger.

Your brain told your arm to move, grab the pod from your thigh pocket, but when your shoulder flexed, pain shot through your arm, sharp and stabbing as little pinpoints of light clouded your vision. Someone was screaming, and when the being hovering over you started to panic, you realized it was you.

You were screaming.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa–okay, Jesus, okay. I’m here to help, I’m Steve. Did you break your shoulder? Is it your arm maybe? Can you move your fingers? Shit–what would Nancy do? Dammit–”

A loud pop! sounded from the pile of wreckage and you both flinched, as this ‘Steve’ shielded you from the angry embers with his body.

“We gotta get out of here, can you walk?” Steve asked, but another crack! from the flames pushed him to stop asking questions and just move. “I’m so sorry, you can hit me for this later,” he apologized, shoving the light from his hand into his pocket and scooping you up into his arms, holding you tight to his chest.

Another earsplitting scream cut the air in two as your whole body cried out in pain and the last thing you heard before losing consciousness was Steve.

I’m so sorry. It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna get help. It’ll be okay. I promise. I promise.

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART ONE OF A ??? PART SERIES – MORE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[fizzing-imagines]

always forever with steve!! 💕💕

Always and Forever | Steve Harrington x Reader

Notes: I hope you enjoy this, thank you for your ask!

Words: 601

Warnings: None

"Holy shit, you're alive!", you practically screamed when he unlocked your apartment door. Robin was there with him, helping him walk carefully. "Didn't plan on dying.", he groaned before slouching down on the couch.

"We were at the emergency room, he had to get some stitches.", Robin explained. "But it wasn't anything dangerous, he's completely fine. Just in a bit of...pain." You knew what the injuries were from. You've been with the group ever since all these weird things started happening. But you couldn't help in a while. Someone came between that. "I'll, uh, let you be. Have a nice day and, uh...kiss the baby from me." Robin awkwardly left, although you understood. What do you say in a situation like this?

"What happened to you?", you asked your boyfriend after sitting down next to him. He turned his face towards you, which you then cupped in your hands. "Just...monster, y'know. Wanted a bite of this." He was grinning while you wondered how he could joke in a situation like this. "You could've died, Steve, why are you joking?", you asked in a worried, yet angry, tone. But he only put an arm around your shoulder and kissed the top of your head. "I have too much to come home to. We're always and forever, remember?"

He was so sappy, you couldn't be angry. Instead, you leaned foward and gave him a small kiss on the lips. "We're happy you're back.", you said. Steve smiled at you and tried to get up, but groaned in pain and slumped back on the couch. "I'll get her, Steve. I know what you're up to."

He waited on the couch for a minute before you walked back in with yours and Steve's daughter Ellie. His eyes immediate lit up when he saw her in your arms. "My little baby.", he cooed while putting her on his lap. "Hi, Ellie."

Your 10-month old looked up at him with her big, brown eyes she got from her dad. While he cuddled carefully with your daughter, you had your head on his shoulder.

"We'll always stay together, won't be?", you mumbled after a while. A low hum left his throat before kissing the top of your head. "Of course we will. You, me, Ellie and approximately 5 more Harringtons." You laughed a bit at his words.

"There will be no more Harringtons until I'm a Harrington.", you said, wiggling your fingers in his face. Steve laughed, took your hand and placed a kiss on your ringfinger. "We can do that, once my side doesn't look like minced meat anymore."

Normally, you probably would've asked if he was serious. But now, after he came home like this, you knew it wasn't a joke. He was serious.

"Always and forever, right?"

"Of course.", he replied with a smile. In the meantime, Ellie reached her hands up to touch his face. Neither of you noticed it, being too caught-up by the improv proposal.

"Dada.", she cooed. That's what made you both look at her with wide eyes. "Did she say Dada?", Steve asked while holding her up. "Ellie, say Dada."

"Dada!", she repeated while clapping her hands together with her adorable smile. "Dada."

"Ellie, you smart girl!", you said before kissing her cheek. "That's Dada, you're right!"

Your daughter was showered with kisses and praise by the both of you, with some light teasing from Steve that she said Dada first instead of Mama.

"Next one will say Mama first.", you said while leaning your head back against his shoulder.

"Well, we have always and forever to teach them that."

[kindamanlymuppet]

LOVE

A High Mind Speaks A Sober Heart | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: After narrowly escaping the Russians, you and your friends were forced to hide in a movie theater. However, what you didn’t expect was for Steve, in his current state, to admit something that could make or break your friendship—or maybe relationship?

Genre: Fluff, I think? Maybe? Perhaps a bit of angst?

Warnings: Talks of being drugged, being high, mentions of being beat up, blood.

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: So I was listening to “Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?” by the Arctic Monkeys and suddenly I thought of this. I hope you all like this!

The sound of the film playing on the big screen of the movie theater reverberated in your eardrums. You had to resist the urge to slip from the room just to have a moment of silence, reminding yourself that the Russian guards could be hot on your tail. In fact, they probably were, and if they were to enter the cinema, they would instantly spot all of you. Two children and three teenagers, two of which wore vibrant coloured sailor’s uniforms and one whose face was all bloody and bruised?

Yeah, it was safe to assume that the five of you stuck out like sore thumbs.

You cursed under your breath when you nearly tripped down the stairs in your haste to usher your two companions—who were high out of their minds—to two of the three open seats at the end of one of the rows. You attempted to block out their whines and complaints as they rambled on about the seats being terrible, trying not to roll your eyes and remind them that there were much more important things to worry about.

They did not know any better at that moment. The Russians had drugged them. The sober Steve and Robin would never act like this when danger was afoot.

You zoned back into the conversation when you heard Dustin speak up. “Whatever you do; don’t go anywhere,” your younger friend instructed both Steve and Robin.

“Fine, dad,” Steve replied sarcastically, withholding his own chuckles when he successfully elicited a laugh from Robin. “He’s being such a dad. Right, Y/N?”

You simply shook your head when he addressed you. You tried not to let butterflies erupt in your stomach when his beautiful amber-like eyes locked on your own, clearly searching for your approval at his joke. “Let’s go, you two,” you quietly addressed Dustin and Erica, motioning for them to head for the three other empty seats at the end of the aisle.

To your great relief, both of them complied with your suggestion. The two of them brushed past you and made their way through the aisle, mumbling halfhearted apologies to the people they disturbed along the way. You moved to follow them, but you were stopped by something grabbing a hold of your hand. Or rather, someone.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked rather loudly, eliciting a rude “shhh!” from the man seated behind them, but he paid him no mind. “Don’t leave.”

“I’m not going far,” you reassured him in a soft whisper, leaning down to be heard over the boom of the soundtrack in the movie. You motioned over to where Dustin and Erica were seated. “I’m just going over there.”

“Why? There’s a seat right here,” Steve countered, pouting as he motioned to the seat right next to him. “Sit with us.”

Despite your best efforts, you could feel your resolve slipping. Steve’s puppy dog eyes, along with the most adorable pout on his face, made you want to give in and spend the whole night with him on those chairs. However, you knew you couldn’t. Danger lurked around the corner. You needed to keep a level head. You could not let your feelings for the Harrington boy cloud your judgement.

“I can’t, Steve,” you declined, gently removing your hand from his grip and placing it back in his lap. “You enjoy the movie, okay? I’ll see you in a bit.”

You began moving away, but before you could, you felt Steve grab your hand again. However, instead of simply stopping you from moving, he tugged you back and onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you to stop you from moving away from him again.

“Steve, what are you—”

“Can’t leave me if I don’t let you,” he mumbled, resting his chin on your shoulder. The popcorn that he had in his hands had haphazardly been chucked into Robin’s lap in favour of holding you.

You realized that, to the untrained eye, you and Steve looked like a couple. Your heart began galloping in your chest at that realization. And it only sped up when you realized that you were actually in Steve Harrington’s arms at the moment. The thing you had fantasized about since the two of you began spending more time together—thanks to Dustin for dragging you both to help him fight his interdimensional lizard pet—was now becoming a reality, and you were not prepared for it at all. Besides, Steve was high. He might not even have meant to do it in the first place.

But the saying went “a drunk mind speaks a sober heart”. Well, in this case, it was a high mind, and if it was true, this could only mean one thing: Steve liked you back. It had to mean that, right?

“Hey, Dingus,” Robin whisper yelled, grabbing both your and Steve’s attention. “Do it.”

“Robin,” Steve hissed, sending her a glare—or, well, an attempt at one, “don’t. You promised you wouldn’t say anythin’.”

“Wouldn’t say what?” You did not know why you were even asking. There were more pressing matters at hand than whatever the two coworkers were about to bicker about. However, curiosity killed the cat, and this particular cat was super curious.

“I “promised”,” she began, using air quotes when she said ‘promise’, “that I wouldn’t tell you about his little huge crush on you.”

“Robin!” Steve gasped, although it was cut off by a laugh. “You broke your promise!”

“So?” Robin laughed as if what was happening was the funniest thing ever. “You weren’t gonna tell her. Someone had to.”

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. “You like me?”

Steve groaned and leaned his head back against the seat. “Yeah. I do.” He raised his head to look at you again. “I like you so much. Like, this much.” He removed his arms from around you to stretch it as wide as he could make it go. “Even more than that.”

You could not help the small laugh that escaped your chest at Steve’s rather child-like assessment. However, when you looked over to the side, you could see Dustin furiously beckon you over, making you snap back to reality. You scrambled off of Steve’s lap, apologizing to the man behind Steve and Robin when he quietly exclaimed at yet another interruption.

“Wait. I’m sorry if I scared you,” Steve hurriedly spoke up, his eyebrows furrowing together in a frown. “Please don’t go.”

Your heart broke at the sad look he gave you, but you knew you had to focus. There would be time to address all these things when your lives weren’t in danger. You would talk to Steve when he was not high out of his mind, either.

“I’m so sorry, Stevie,” you apologized sincerely. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

You did not wait for his reply. You took off towards Dustin and Erica, forcing any thoughts that weren’t strictly about surviving the night to the back of your mind. However, you still heard Steve whisper to Robin.

“See? That’s why I didn’t wanna tell her. Now she hates me.”

Oh, if only he knew how wrong he was. Now you had another reason to want to escape the Russians. You needed to give Steve a kiss and tell him exactly how much you didn’t hate him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

[imsogonesposts]

Heart-Shaped Balloons, Streamers, and Rose Petals

|| ao3 || Steve Harrington masterlist || requests are open !! || an: happy valentine's day!!||

summary: Steve celebrates Valentine's Day with you (wc: 1193)

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was that the usually warm spot on the bed next to you was currently cold and empty. The next thing you noticed was the distant humming coming from what sounded like the kitchen, and the smell of pancakes filling the air. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up with a yawn, slowly realizing what day it was. Valentine’s Day. Though it wasn’t unusual for Steve to wake up before you and prepare breakfast while you slept in, you wouldn’t be surprised if today, he was doing it simply because of the holiday. Not that you minded, you loved just about anything he happened to make. 

As you walked to the bedroom door, moving to open it, you could begin to clearly make out what song Steve was humming to himself. My Girl, by The Temptations. You had to bite back the small laugh you wanted to let out. Steve Harrington always has been, and always will be, nothing short of a lover boy. The perfect, sweetest one at that. 

You opened the door making your way out of your bedroom and into your living room, only to discover Steve had gone all out. There were heart-shaped balloons taped to the wall, red and pink heart streamers falling from the roof, rose petals scattered across the floor, and a pink bag labeled with your name on it, red tissue paper sticking out from the top. 

As this was your first Valentine’s Day together, while living together, you and Steve had agreed to hide your presents for each other at Robin’s apartment next door, and in turn, Vickie and her could hide their presents for each other in yours and Steve’s apartment. You couldn’t believe that not only had Steve woken up early enough to gather all these decorations from next door and take the time to hang them up, but also make you a Valentine’s Day breakfast. You truly must have lucked out on the boyfriend lottery.

You were too busy staring at his handiwork to notice his footsteps padding across the living room floor as he moved to hug you from behind, surprising you. “Good morning,” he whispered with a smile, kissing your cheek as he mumbled out a “Happy Valentine’s Day,” pressing another kiss to your cheek. 

“Did you do all this for me?” You quietly ask, shifting slightly to meet his gaze, still in his embrace. 

He nodded, his messy, unbrushed brown hair flopping around with his movements. “Course I did,” he replied with a smile. “I was actually just about to go wake you up and say breakfast is ready.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before moving to hold your face in between his palms. 

You smile, placing your hands over his. “I’m gonna go next door and get your gift,” you tell him as he playfully pats your cheeks, causing a small laugh to escape you. 

“Okay, Robin and Vickie already got theirs from here, sleepyhead,” he replies, giving you a quick kiss before letting you make your way next door. 

When you return with your gifts in hand, you find Steve setting the table for breakfast, smiling brightly at your return. “I missed you,” he half-jokes, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you say with a laugh, holding a red bag out for him to take, white tissue paper spilling out, and a bouquet of roses in your other hand. 

He takes the bag with a smile. “Thank you, baby,” he says, giving you a quick kiss before moving to retrieve your gift. “You first,” he says, handing you the bag. 

You let out a small false frown. “You always make me go first,” you playfully complain. 

He simply shakes his head with a smile, replying, “the only gift I need is your smile.”

“Dork,”

“You love me,” he gives you another quick kiss, this one slightly longer, before lightly pushing the bag against you with a smile. “Open,” he lightly requests. 

You place the bag onto the table with a smile, removing the tissue paper as you begin taking out the contents inside. A heart-shaped box of your favorite chocolate, a blue dog plushie- a tradition from your first Valentine’s together when he got you a dog plushie, and you got him a cat plushie. Ever since, you both continued to get each other a different dog and cat plushie every year- a clothed box which held a heart-shaped necklace in it, and finally, a card which he wrote how much he loved you, and how happy he was that you were in his life. 

“Oh, I also got you some flowers,” Steve suddenly says, playfully hitting his forehead with his hand as he walks into the kitchen, quickly returning with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a smile. 

“You’re too sweet to me,” you say with a smile, as you move to hug him, your arms around his neck, his around your waist. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead before mumbling, “you deserve it and more, honey.”

You let him press another kiss to your forehead before reluctantly moving away from the hug, nodding toward the bag holding his gifts. “Open,” you request, mirroring his earlier words as he presses a small kiss to your nose. 

“Sir, yes sir,” he jokes as he removes the tissue paper from his bag to reveal a grey cat plushie, a box of Valentine’s Day chocolate, and a card, where your words echo much of what Steve had written to you. 

“Thank you, baby,” he said, placing his presents on the table, hands moving to hold your face as he smiled at you, eyes staring at you as if he was trying to memorize everything about you. “I love you,” he whispered, his thumbs lightly rubbing your cheeks. 

“I love you too,” you whispered back with a smile as you handed him the roses you had gotten for him. 

His eyes briefly glanced from you, to the dog and cat plushies that were lying next to each other on the table, before moving back to you again. “So,” he starts, “what are we gonna do with all these stuffed animals?” He asks, thumbs still absentmindedly rubbing on your cheeks. “We’re gonna end up with a million eventually,” he jokes. 

“Excuse you, we’re going to keep them like we always do,” you reply in feigned hurt. “Those things are like our babies.”

He shakes his head with a laugh, pressing his forehead against yours. “Yeah, yeah, I’m just messing with you,” he states. “House catches on fire, those are the first things I’m running for,” he jokes before pressing his lips against yours in another kiss. 

When he finally breaks away from the kiss, he’s looking at you with nothing but love and adoration as he whispers your name and a “Happy Valentine’s Day,” with a smile. He said your name as if it was his favorite word in the dictionary- he always did. 

“Happy Valentine’s, Stevie,” you replied with a smile, saying his name much like he said yours.

[stevesgother]

emmmm!!!!!!!! in honour of valentines day, I humbly and urgently request reader and steve getting ready for a date together, but steve can't keep his hands off of them 🤭 all the kissy touchy undressy pls! <3333333333333

CHLOE UGH i love this

anything for u my darling

18+ under the cut

You never needed to beg or plead for the bare minimum from your boyfriend like you had with lovers in the past.

Steve loved Valentine's Day. It was the one day a year where he could well and truly spoil you without you bashfully insisting that he 'really didn't have to'. If it were up to him, he'd bring you home a new gold pendant and a bouquet of a dozen red roses every night when he got home from work-- but he spared you for the fear of being "too much". He'd never had a partner that appreciated him so much as you did.

Standing in front of your shared bathroom's mirror, you were attempting to apply your lipstick. Your dinner reservation was in a mere thirty minutes, and your boyfriend was absolutely insatiable.

"Steve, I can't put this one when you're moving me," you groaned.

"Can't help it, baby-- you just look so damn good," his words are muffled as he shoves his face further into the junction where your neck meets your shoulder. You can feel his erection pressing incessantly into your backside as you bent slightly over the counter to get a closer look at your lips.

He'd been like this since the moment you put on that dress-- the dress that he bought for you to wear, no less. He'd presented it to you in a neatly wrapped gift box with a bow on top.

'We have a reservation at Enzo's for seven, picked you up something pretty to wear, too.'

He just hadn't anticipated you looking so fucking sexy in it. He thinks it might even be borderline obscene. Especially with that dainty little 'S' charm hanging in the valley between your breasts.

He was pressing hot, wet kisses to the vein that ran along the side of your neck; one he was well acquainted with.

"Baby, we're gonna be late,"

"I'll drive fast," he breathes.

"Steve--"

"I need you, honey, I'm not gonna be able to make it through dinner," he chuckles, his deft fingers move under the hem of your dress and he pulls at it before letting it snap back into place on your thighs, "jus' wanna take you right here over this counter."

You can't help the whimpery moan that his words elicit from you, and you know immediately that that's what breaks him.

His hand moves to cup your heat over the lace panties you had worn with the notion that he's be ripping them off of you later-- and despite how'd you been trying to play it cool, the wetness pooling there betrays you.

"So wet f'me, baby," his free hand grips you by the jaw and maneuvers you to face him. He kisses you with an urgency you don't have the privilege of experiencing very often. Steve's always been a fantastic kisser, but you love it when he kisses you like it's the last time he'll ever get to. It's passionate and deep; his tongue delving past your lips to dance with your own.

At some point in the last minute or two he had pulled your underwear to the side; seemingly too impatient to take them all the way off. The tips of his index and middle fingers circle your puffy clit, causing a whine to slip past your lips.

He's trying to get you ready for him, always the gentleman, but you can tell he's extra needy tonight. You push the plush of you ass back against his hardness and he all but growls into your ear.

You hear the clinking of him hurriedly unbuckling his belt, and before you know it, the blushing red head if his cock is sliding through your wet folds collecting the wetness there.

"Oh--Steve," you drawl.

"I need you, baby-- is this okay?"

"Yes Steve, please,"

There's no easing into it like there usually is. All at once you feel the entirety of his length sheathed into you and it takes every ounce of strength in your body not to cry out at the sensation. He's taking your face in the hand that doesn't have a death grip on the fat of your hip and forcing you to face the mirror again.

"Want you to look at yourself while I fuck you, such a little slut f'me, huh?"

The hand on your face makes it's way around to grab a fist full of your hair, keeping your head up despite the urge to let your head fall. Your tits bounce with the force of his hips plowing into you, and you know you'll be sore in the morning.

"Touch yourself, baby-- I'm close,"

You do as you're told, moving your hand south to play with your bundle of nerves where your underwear's been hastily pushed to the side. The pressure of the head of Steve's cock hitting that spongey spot deep inside you combined with the added sensation on your clit has the knot in your lower belly tightening.

"Steve!" You cry out. The thought of your upstairs neighbors briefly crosses your mind, but not enough for you to quiet your chants of his name.

"You gonna come? I can feel you, baby, let go. I've got you," he wraps a toned arm around your waist to pull you flush to him. This was his favorite way to finish-- every inch of your body in contact with every inch of his. Steve may be the more domineering partner in your relationship, but he'll forever be a sap at heart. Especially for you.

"Gonna come-- Steve! Inside me please, want you to finish inside,"

"H-oh fuck-- baby--"

You feel him tense inside you seconds before you're flooded with the warmth of him filling you to the brim. Logically, you both know you're on birth control, but even the idea of Steve knocking you up makes him finish almost instantly. Every single time. It's like his kryptonite.

He rides out his high with a few more harsh thrusts before he's pulling out and moving your underwear back in place.

"Wait-- I need to clean up," you start but he interrupts as he's buckling his belt.

"You're gonna go to dinner like that, and then when we get home later, I'm gonna fuck it back into you. That sound good?"

You're left speechless at how casually he says it. Leave it to Steve to work you up like this, and then act like he didn't just rock your world.

"Uh huh," you respond, a little dumbly.

"Good." He smiles so earnestly it makes you melt a little, "Jesus, baby, your lipsticks a mess. Better fix it while I start the car, yeah?"

You laugh, swatting his chest, but he just bends at the waist to give you a smacking kiss to your sweaty cheek as if he isn't the sole reason you look so disheveled.

"Steven!"

"Love you!" He calls over his shoulder as he runs from you.

Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't so bad when you had him.

[take-everything-you-can]

NO LOVE LOST

Pt.1 .. Pt.2

What happens when Steve finally meets his match... and what happens when she wants absolutely nothing to do with men?

Oh my god I posted this without thanking my queens wtf @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby , @keeryhours thank you for always helping me through any questions and giving me just the inspiration to go for it always !!

18+ minors DNI

WC: 2.9k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem Reader ( nn- Angel)

TW: mentions of divorce, mentions of food, platonic Stobin, male masturbation.

Rolling over to see the sunrise instead of the slope of curves always made Steve feel like he was in a never-ending rut. It was the same old boring routine, the same cycle day in and day out. Today felt different. Instead of loneliness, when he rolled over, he felt a little twinge of hope. 

Hope that got him out of bed before noon and fed his brain with little what-ifs of what could happen tonight. Why? Well, today was Valentine's Day. now he knew what everyone thought what a fucking sap that this was his favorite holiday but fucking sue him. Simply put he was just a guy who loved love and wanted to give what he had and wanted someone to return the fucking favor, but no one ever got the memo. 

Every year he looked forward to the corny paper valentines that would hit the shelves in Melvald’s, the carnations people could buy for their sweetheart in high school, and now that he had become an adult he adored the way he and Robin had made it a tradition to go out. She would wear those cringy cupid wings and make him wear a headband with an arrow that looked like it had gone in one ear and out the other, but he loved it Loved going along with the bit if it made her smile. 

Tonight he was going to get drunk and take someone home, he had a plan. Buy them a drink, flirt his way into the sheets, and maybe in the morning he could look over and not feel so alone. He would pull out all his best moves, maybe even pull a few of Robin's tried and true that she swore by, anything to not go home by himself. 

Hours had passed and he had started to get a little worried since he had heard nothing from Robin about their plans so he decided to text her. 

As his phone rang Steve was tempted to let it go to voicemail but knowing Robin, he couldn’t do it, she would be beyond pissed. 

“This better be good robs.” he was quiet trying to hear her over the music in the background of wherever she was. 

“It’s not ideal but we can’t go out tonight Stevie. I’m so sorry.”  He tried to be mad he did but the wave of sadness overwhelmed him. “ I know you probably hate me right now.” 

“I don’t hate you, never could.” he cut her off quickly. He could hear the giant sigh of relief she let out. 

“look my cousin, she just got divorced and I told her she could stay with me until she got back on her feet and I promised her a night of movies and good pasta. So would you maybe be into doing that instead?” He thought about it, he didn't need Robin to go out but where was the fun in that? 

“ What movies ?” she laughed and told him to just bring his ass or he was going to be on wine duty. He laughed with her because when was he not on wine duty, he always brought extra bottles knowing if Robin said she had two she only had about half of one.

So he made his way to the store to pick up two extra bottles of the nicest wine he could find and threw a few bars of chocolate into the mix while he was at the register. 

“This all for you ? “ the cashier looked at all he had placed on the little conveyor belt and he nodded his head with a small smile. 

“ Indeed it is.” 

“ Lucky partner, I wish mine would do something like this instead I’ll probably go home to a husband that forgot.” Steve sadly gives his grievances and hands over the amount he owes, thanking the cashier for helping him. 

He felt a small glimmer of happiness that he wasn’t the only one having a shitty holiday, but he was also gutted by the fact that they at least were going to get to go home and curl up next to someone who cared enough to marry them. 

The drive wasn’t a long one but god did it feel like it. Robins' small apartment building had a few stories to it and she just so happened to live on the top floor. As he walked up the stairs and towards her door all he could hear was some low rock music floating through. Knocking Robin instantly swung the door open almost as if their platonic telepathy had notified her of his presence but that was shattered as he was shown the screen of her phone.

 “Why did you sit outside in your car for five minutes? You scared Stevie ?” He furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, 'cause you're just so scary Robs.” She gave him a small tug and pulled him into her apartment and the music he had noticed was coming from the kitchen, her small radio blasting out their parent's favorites, the classics as the station called them. 

“It smells amazing” He heard coming from the now open bathroom door, steam rolling out behind you and he found that you were only in a towel. Surprise on both of your faces as you didn’t expect Steve to be here by the time you got out of the shower and for him, well he didn’t expect you to be so drop-dead gorgeous.  Robin nudges Steve in the stomach with her elbow to get him to shut his mouth since it had slightly dropped open at the sight before him. 

“Steve this is my cousin we just call her Angel.” Steve looked at Robin with an upturned smile thinking about how cute her name was, how true it sounded. 

“It’s not my name but I had a cat named Lucifer growing up and you know Fallen Angel and all that blah blah blah.” She walks away and into Robin's guest room, steve assumes to get dressed, and turning to Robin he pushes her back for the sharp jab she had given to his ribcage. 

“You didn’t tell me she was a walking fucking dream, Buckley.” He hissed out low, scared he would be overheard. 

“Not like you have a chance, Steve, she is one my cousin, and two” she also drops down to a whisper. “ Recently divorced.” 

“So? If anything I’d say my chances are pretty fucking up there.” She just rolls her eyes and tells him she is going to take a quick shower of her own before the movie marathon she has planned out and asks him to finish up making dinner. 

He doesn’t mind, he thinks cooking is calming and honestly it turns his brain off from everything. Sometimes he would make a batch of cookies just to find peace before bed. It was soothing, the process of doing the same thing over and over again and getting the same delicious outcome.

The scent of coconut and rose, a weird mix of the two that worked well hit him, turning to find you standing at the other end of Robin's island. 

“I brought some wine for the movies. Would you like a glass?” He took a bottle out of the fridge and grabbed three glasses out of the cabinet. Pouring one for you and one for himself. He hated warm wine and so did Robin so he just put the bottle back in the fridge until she was ready for one.

“You know your way around robins huh?” You questioned, a subtle shift in your tone and Steve thinking nothing of it answered. 

“Yeah, it's like my second home honestly.” He turned back to stir the pasta Robin had set to simmer and watched as you sipped on your glass slowly.  

“Sorry that I ruined your and Robins's plans she said you guys go out every year.” Steve felt the way his shoulders tensed and shrugged.

 “It's nothing just a little tradition.” You sigh walking over to where Steve is standing next to the stove and taking a spoon to the sauce. Tasting it you look Steve in the eye and tell him the pasta needs some pepper. He takes a different spoon tastes it and agrees that it does need something but not pepper it needs something light. So instead he grabs a lemon and grates a bit of it creating the zest he wants to flourish. 

You roll your eyes walk over to where you had begun this interaction and pick your glass back up. Steve is standing wondering what exactly he could have done to upset you in the mere minutes you were alone with him and he comes up blank.

 “Do we .. is there a problem Angel?” You put a hand on your hip and smile. 

“Nope, no problem I just think it's kinda strange you are all alone on Valentine's Day.”  And he doesn't mean to, he tries to hold it back but something in your tone sounded like every single past partner's accusation of something being fundamentally wrong with him. 

“I could say the same about you but looks like we are both alone.” 

“Who's alone?” Robin pops herself back into the kitchen and grabs some plates from a cupboard behind Steve. 

“We are, all three of us so painfully single.” You say staring at Steve before taking a plate from Robin that she had filled. She laughs but deep inside it hits Steve like a car to a brick wall. Painfully single, god was he that transparent? Did he just give off that vibe? 

“I never said I was single.” You hum taking your plate to the couch and leave him and Robin in the kitchen. She is biting her lip with a sorry look in her eyes. 

“I told her we usually spend Valentine's Day looking for someone to spend breakfast with hate me all you want. “ 

“Could never “She hands him a plate and sets it down to fill up her glass. Walking over to her living room to find that you had taken his space on the couch, the one he always sat in. The one he could hear best from, see the subtitles from the distance, but you were snuggled in. You had a blanket over your lap and your plate had rested against your chest while you ate and all in his fucking spot.  So he took the other cushion a bit off from where the screen could be read clearly but he could just ask Robin to turn it up a bit more. He could do this … right? Get through one Valentine's Day that Cupid decided not to grace him on. He could turn this thing around. 

He couldn't. Working on the second bottle close to being finished with sixteen candles and a craving for cake himself Steve could confidently say he could not turn this night around. He had tried to get comfortable in his position and he just couldn’t he felt like your eyes were on him throughout the entire movie which led to him sipping his glass a bit more and now he was past the point of tipsy he was drunk, but at least he wasn't the only one. 

Every time he had gotten up to pour himself some more you and Robin would hold your glasses out for a refill and he would more than happily do that, he did, until wine turned into small sips of whatever cheap vodka Robin had in the back of her freezer. When the movie ended he carried Robin to her room since she had passed out in her large chair sometime around the wedding scenes. Deciding that he would do the best friend thing and tackle the dishes he began running the water and waiting for it to turn warm which always took forever in Robin’s apartment, he swore the heater was starting to go bad but she kept telling him that if it wasn't giving her a cold shower she didn't care. He lathered the dishes setting them on the rack when he was done rinsing them and you had appeared next to him, now dressed in a robe over the comfortable p.js you had been wearing. 

Thinking you would just say something but instead just stood there watching him. 

“Can I assist you with something.” he could hear the small huff of air that left you like you didn’t expect him to acknowledge your existence. 

“Why are you washing our dishes.” He didn’t understand but answered. 

“Well you are a guest and Robin hates a dirty sink and I honestly don’t mind doing it-”

“Well stop, you aren’t getting anything out of doing them so just stop. “ Now he was on a whole different planet because what in the fuck were you talking about. 

“Excuse me? Who said I needed to get anything just to do the dishes? I don't know who made you feel the need to use everything as a transaction but that is not how things go around here. You see it needs to be done, you do it. No, do this and you shall receive fuck you ever just done anything to be a nice person?” He could feel the heat in his cheeks with the alcohol flowing through him, his eyes staring at the room like it was on an axis, and his tone starting to rise in the audacity of wanting something out of Robin. An accusation, another from someone who this time didn’t even know him. 

“I’m so-” 

“Save it. I just want to go to bed I suggest you do the same.” 

“ Do not think for one second you are doing this for nothing.” it stops him on his way to his little makeshift bed on the couch. “ You men are all the same, even if it's not for something transactional you still end up on the side of gain Steven.” He was stuck still, not knowing how to even respond. Who had hurt you into thinking all men were the same? Maybe they were in a club with all of his exes, the ones who made him feel the same way. That all women were set on their relationship with him never going farther unless he was to act like he did in high school, unless he took on the persona of his father. He would never so here he was on Valentine's Day alone, drunk and sleeping on his best friend's couch with a person who hated all men not even a hundred feet away. Lovely. 

He didn’t know what time it was when he laid down the numbers on the box beneath Robin's television had been too blurry then, but as the hours went on the numbers seemed to brighten and they now read three a.m. tossing and turning, tired or not being able to find a comfortable position and you, your voice was running through his head over and over, telling him he was only a nice guy for profit. Who the fuck were you to judge him? You didn’t know anything about him and then it sent him on a tangent of well he didn’t know you either. He could only see what was on the surface, and although the surface was breathtaking he felt the twinge of wanting to know you deep, know the center of what made you, and change your perspective on men, or at least on him. 

The longer he thought about you the harder it was to stray away from the thoughts of your face and the way your body looked in that towel. The water dripped from your hair before you had put it up, letting the droplets fall in between-. Alright, he had to stop, he couldn't think of you that way, or could he? He listened out to see if he heard anything but all he heard was the ice dumping from the fridge and soft snores coming from down the hall. Was he really about to do this? 

His dick answered for him, half hard at the thought of just having you drop the towel was all he needed. He let his hand wander under the thin blanket that he had covering himself. Gripping his cock through his boxers and felt the weight of it and squeezed letting it fill out before he slipped his band beneath the waistband. He started stroking himself wishing it was your mouth on him and you had dropped to your knees in front of him, inviting him in with the warmth. Letting the pre he had slid down his shaft with some help but it just wasn’t enough. He brought his hand up to his mouth and spit in it imagining that it was you who had provided and he let his fist wrap around the length again. The slick wet sounds worked him up and he took and pushed his boxers out of the way with his other hand. Letting his hips buck into the pull of his dick, hissing out at the feeling of his release approaching fast. 

“Need a hand?” 

[punkrockmlchael]

May I request Steve with 34 please? Congrats on 100, mwah mwah!! 🤍🤍

Masterlist for 100 Follower Celebration!

Steveeee! This request is so cute and I ran with Dad!Steve so… here’s some feels for you (Word Count: 550)

Prompt: Aquarium ; Dad!Steve Harrington x Mom!Fem Reader

You smiled to yourself, picking up your daughter, Felicity. You kissed her head softly and placed her in her car seat, buckling her up carefully.

“Fish!” Felicity giggled, holding up her toy fish from the aquarium earlier in the day. “Fish!” She giggled, moving her toy up and down in the air to mock it swimming through the air.

“Yes, baby, it’s a fish,” you smiled more, ruffling her hair gently before you closed the door and got in your seat in the front of the car. “Ready to go see daddy, hun?” You asked, looking at Felicity through the rear view mirror. She smiled widely, nodding her head rapidly.

“Daddy! Daddy!” She giggled, looking out the window as you began the short drive back home.

Today was supposed to be an aquarium trip for the whole family—you, Steve and Felicity. Unfortunately, Steve had recently caught a cold and could barely leave the house let alone bed. But, Felicity was so excited to go to the aquarium that you couldn't let her down. You could tell Steve was upset he had to miss the family trip, but he didn't want to have to deal with a heart broken Felicity while sick so you still packed her up and took her for a little mommy and daughter day.

And she had fun, giggling as you two walked around looking at all the "fishies" as she called them. Now, Felicity couldn't wait to get home and tell Steve all about the fish she had seen and show him the new toy she had gotten during the day.

And that's just what she did. As soon as her feet hit the floor of the living room she was running up the stairs and down the hall to your bedroom, barging in before she jumped on the bed next to Steve.

"Daddy! Daddy!" She giggled, sitting on the bed by Steve. He looked at her and smiled a little, sitting up in bed.

"Yes, princess? Did you have fun today? Were you good for mommy?"

Felicity nodded excitedly, holding her new toy fish towards Steve. "Fishie!" Steve smiled, taking the toy from her gently.

"You got a fish, huh?" He smiled, looking at her. You smiled, watching from the doorway.

"So many fishies, daddy!" Felicity smiled, "blue fishies, orange fishies! Nemo!" She giggled.

"You saw Nemo?" Steve asked, smiling as he pushed her hair out of her face.

"Yeah!" She nodded before she coughed slightly. "Nemo and Dory!"

Steve frowned at her cough, placing the back of his hand on her forehead. "Are you getting sick, princess?"

Felicity shook her head before coughing more. You frowned, moving to grab her some medicine while she snuggled into Steve's side. Steve kissed her head gently as you brought back some medicine. "How about we all take a nap?" You suggested, getting Felicity some medicine.

"I think that sounds perfect," Steve smiled, giving the medicine to Felicity. She made a face and coughed more before she curled up next to Steve. You smiled softly, sitting on the other side of her. "Night, princess," Steve mumbled against Felicity's head. He looked up at you and kissed your head softly. "Have fun?"

"Today was definitely fun. Wish you were able to be there with us, though."

"Me too, baby."