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becca-alexa · 2 years ago

Text

Movie Magic

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're at Steve's for a movie date - what could go wrong?

Word Count: 1.7K

Content Warnings: fluff, fingering (f receiving), no use of [Y/N]

Author’s Note: bored and overwhelmed with school!and what better way to work off my stress than to keep writing this stuff? feedback and comments appreciated!💗💗

In any and every situation, Steve Harrington loved to touch you.

Steve had been starved for affection since his childhood, his parents oftentimes never present enough to give him the love he ached for, the love every child deserves to receive from their family; he’d taught himself to live without such things, believing that their behavior was the norm, and that it was those he considered to be overly-affectionate that were strange.

As a teenager budding into young adulthood, he’d finally discovered how wrong his family had been.

The first form of love he’d found was with Nancy - an eros love, however fleeting their relationship had been. He’d also learned of heartache, which made the love all the more powerful.

The second form, he’d found with Robin - philia, or ‘platonic with a capital “P”’, as she would so often tell everyone. It was a warm kind of love, a safe love, a nonjudgmental and welcoming love that he basked in whenever they were together.

The familial love - storge - he’d been searching for, he’d found in the kids - and in Eddie, of all people, although he’d be loath to admit it. Their friendships meant the world to him, and if it meant putting his own life on the line a second time to guarantee they’d all live to see tomorrow, then so be it.

And the fourth kind of love, pragma… Well, that he found in you.

Steve had been smitten with you since the first time you’d wandered into Family Video.

You’d walked up to the counter; Steve, sorting through stacks of cassettes underneath, sprang upright at the sound of your voice, his eyes wide at the sight of you - a new face, a breath of air in the occasional staleness that came with living in a small town. You smiled at him, and he smiled in return; to his surprise, you asked him for directions, still too new to Hawkins to know which way the local Piggly Wiggly was. Steve had done his best explaining things to you, and you had thanked him as you left, giving him a shy wave goodbye through the store window.

Robin nearly gagged at the way he’d melted after you’d left - and she’d teased him mercilessly for months about it.

About you.

You’d gone back the next day, this time actually in search of a video, Steve nearly leaping over the counter in his haste to get to you.

“Hi.” he breathed, his smile more lopsided than debonair, hair falling over his forehead.

“Hello again,” you replied, eyes clear and bright as you take a step closer to him, pointing at the rack of recent releases behind him. “Any recommendations?”

He explained every movie, every plot point, every surprise twist or frightening scare that might deter one from renting a film - and Robin, looking on, arms leaned over the counter as she pretended to flip through a catalog, swore she’d never seen Steve do so much work.

He pulled a few boxes from the shelf - his favorites, since you’d asked for suggestions. You stared at the boxes in his hands, lip caught between your teeth as you tried to decide which one to pick - and when your hands brushed his, he nearly jumped at the jolt of electricity that shot through him.

Judging from the look of bewilderment on your face, you’d felt it, too.

In any and every situation, Steve Harrington loved to touch you.

Whenever he saw you, he’d long for some sort of contact with you; with your frequent visits to the shop, it was only natural that you’d befriend them, and eventually you just started spending your free time with the pair. It began with a poke; Steve had leaned his hip against the counter, listening to your excited raving about Cyndi Lauper’s newest single, nodding every once so often. He stared at your hand, at your seafoam green nail polish, and he couldn’t help himself.

He poked your finger.

You didn’t miss a beat, your conversation continuing on as though nothing had happened. But, much to Steve’s delight, you’d poked him back.

And, from that point on, you were both inseparable.

Poking turned to tapping, which turned to grabbing, then holding. As the scalding summer days drawled on, your friendship with Steve deepened - perhaps a bit too quickly to some, but perfect for the two of you. One day, working alone at the store, he had sworn to move things forward - to take the risk, praying you wouldn’t turn tail and run.

He asked you out.

You said yes, much to his surprise - and unsurprisingly to everyone else.

As a friend, Steve Harrington was caring, kind, warm; his comforting aura was what had initially attracted you to him. But, as a boyfriend?

In any and every situation, Steve Harrington loved to touch you; to hold you, to brush his hand against yours, to press the softest of kisses onto your hair, your eyes, your cheeks, your lips.

But, you quickly learned that he especially loved to touch you.

Seated between his legs atop his couch, you leaned back against his chest, head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you, the movie you’d picked out playing on the large television. You try to focus on the movie - God knows you try - but the feeling of Steve’s rough hands moving over your thighs dominates your mind, your thoughts. You sneak a look at him, only to find him actually watching the movie; his hands continue to move over you, squeezing your softness, fingers wandering beneath the hem of your skirt, moving higher… Higher…

“Steve?” Your voice is hoarse, your mouth dry, tongue sticky. “What are you-”

“Just watch the movie.” His voice is soft against your ear, low and rumbling in a way that vibrates through your chest. You nod, swallowing against the tightness in your throat as his touch burns trails over your skin.

You feel his fingers brush over your underwear, and he makes a quiet noise to get your attention.

“Can I?” Steve asks, fingers tugging at the elastic hugging your body; you nod, face aflame as you lift your hips, pulling off the offensive thing in a single motion. And, unsure of where to put it, Steve takes it from you, sliding the lacy things into his pocket - for later, he answers with a kiss to your cheek before turning you back to watch whatever scene was playing out on the screen.

You feel his hands roam over the inside of your legs, trailing close to your core. With a quiet gasp, your eyes flutter shut as you feel him drag a finger between your folds - up, down, up, down, stopping every few strokes to rub agonizingly slowly over your clit.

“S-Steve-”

“Keep watching.”

Your body thrums in anticipation, and you have no choice but to do as he says.

He continues on with his teasing - there’s no other way to describe what he’s doing - and you quickly feel yourself melting in his arms. As he kisses the shell of your ear, lips trailing over your flushed skin, his other hand moves to join the first, working in tandem to unravel you. You catch yourself grinding your hips up into his hands, and you barely catch a moan before it slips through your chapped lips.

He rolls your clit between his fingers, maddening, electrifying, while his other hand presses into you, his fingers coated in your essence. Soon enough, the quiet, wet sounds of his fingers working your pussy fill the room, a sinful backing track to the movie you were supposed to still be watching. Your head rolls back against his shoulder, your breathing heavy, eyes fluttering closed as waves of warmth crash over you.

“Eyes on the TV, sweetheart.”

He pumps his finger into you, adding another, and you hear the softest of groans from him at how you squeeze around him, pulling him further into you. The hand at your clit speeds up, slows down, stops altogether before picking up at a dizzying pace - and the feeling drives you nearly to the brink of insanity, the familiar tightness of your release already coiling in your stomach.

“You like this, don’t you?” Steve huffs against your ear, his own breathing labored as he works you toward your peak. “You like it when I touch you like this? When I get you soaking wet?”

You nod, your mind a haze of pleasure; you moan aloud as his fingers curl themselves inside of you - and you know you won’t last much longer.

“S-Steve, fuck…! I-I’m-” You cut yourself off with moan, one loud enough to be heard over the rising action of the film - rather, what you assumed to be the rising action.

Neither of you were paying attention, anyway.

You’re panting now, Steve’s name a prayer on your lips as your nails leave crescents in his arms, your eyes clenched shut as you feel yourself begin to come undone; the feeling of him everywhere is too much, too intense, and you let yourself fall into him.

“C’mon, baby, cum for me. Cum on my fingers.” You feel Steve lick a stripe up your neck, kissing you, his words burning themselves into your flushed skin. “I want to feel you - please, baby…”

You scream as the thread snaps, your body arching off his, his thick fingers buried deep inside of you, working you through the ecstasy. He presses kisses wherever he can reach, whispering praises into your ear; you can hear the smile in his voice, the pride he reserves only for you.

“So good to me, baby… So sweet…” Pulling his hand away, he makes quite the show of licking his fingers clean, your flushed face burning impossibly redder, the sight making him smile as he readjusts you against him. He pulls out your panties, offering them back to you - of course, he does so purely out of courtesy, already knowing you’d refuse them. You settle yourself, burying your head in the cozy warmth of his chest.

“Should I rewind the movie?” Steve asks, sounding almost sheepish as he reaches for the remote - and you laugh, taking the remote and tossing it aside before jumping to your feet, pulling him up with you as you lead him to his bedroom.

“I’ve got a better idea…”

#becca.fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve x fem!reader #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #i am in a mood and now so are all of you #ahh yes the fluff to filth pipeline #i am tired and nothing good comes from me being tired #hope you enjoy 💗#please be gentle i didn't proofread this

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