Falling For You?

Falling For You?

{Masterlist}

Pairing- Draco Malfoy x Fem Potter Reader 

Request- No

Summary - You’re starting to notice a change in Draco Malfoy’s behavior which is strange because ever since day one he has had it out for you and your twin brother Harry. What will happen when you are hurt badly during a quidditch match causing you to fall from a fatal height?  This takes place in the 5th year.

Genre- Angst, Fluff 

Warnings - Blood, Angst, Potential enemies to lovers? multiple Pov, swearing, mentions of nausea, fainting, violence, physical fighting, I think that's it,  

A/N - This is my first ever fic, so I hope you enjoy it. Sorry I haven’t posted much life has just gotten a bit out of hand recently, but I have managed to produce this and its finally time to share it! so enjoy. 

Word count - 5.7k 

Growing up without parents and living with your abusive Aunt and Uncle with their Spoilt Brat for a kid wasn’t easy; and you honestly didn’t think you would have survived without your twin brother. For the longest time you too were inseparable. You were each other’s only family left. And that’s why you were crushed with guilt every time you look at those shining grey eyes.  

It was no secret that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were enemies. Most people despised Malfoy due to his cruel demeanor and outdated world views, where he saw himself on some pedestal above everyone else; which he would reticule you from if you dare thought otherwise. Of course you were one of the people who disliked him. How could you not be?  

You’d just wish your heart would listen to your brain when thought of him. He was a cruel person who found fun in making other people’s lives difficult, especially you and your friends. So why did you find your eyes lingering on him for a second too long? Looking around the great hall at dinner just to get a glimpse of him. It wasn’t right, and you knew it. But it didn’t help that he had really grown into his looks and gotten a lot taller over the summer break. And while there is an undouble rivalry between Malfoy and both Potter twins since the first year, you couldn’t help but notice that Malfoy had become slightly more tolerable lately. He would make less snarky and unnecessary comments, start less arguments and not take the arguments that he did start as far as he used to. Was he getting tired of it? Or was he maybe he was finally maturing. Either way, you were grateful for it as you have been seated next to him for potions until the end of the year, courtesy of Snape’s seating plan.  

In fact, you had noticed that ever since you had been seated next to him at the beginning of the year, he was slowly becoming more tolerable, and you were becoming less annoyed by his presence.  

You had explained your thoughts to Hermione stating that maybe he was ‘growing on you’ but she just replied saying that it was more likely that he was just ‘wearing you down’, to which you chuckled along with.  

For a while now, more times than you’d like to admit was spent dwelling on your changing feelings for him. A part of you hoped that he was perhaps changing and that maybe it could lead to something between the two of you. You had to admit he was funny at times and had slipped up and shown you a different side of him before. Only in subtle ways like picking something you’d dropped on the floor and handing it to you without any snarky comment or passing you something you were looking for. If anyone else did this, you wouldn’t think twice about it. But it wasn’t anyone. It was Draco Malfoy.  

You were pulled out of your own thoughts by Ron leaning upwards to look over you and your brothers head to see the Slytherin table  

“Can’t wait to wipe that that stupid smug smirk off of Draco’s face” Ron said through gritted teeth as he began to sit back down still keeping an eye on the Slytherin table behind you where Draco sat in his quidditch uniform talking with his teammates.  

“He’s been extra cocky today about winning this match” Ron grumbled as he turned to the food in front of him.  

“Tell me about it” Harry sarcastically sighed “I had to deal with him and Blaise all of first period” Harry grumbled. You peered over your shoulder to see the loud commotion happening behind you, which mainly consisted of the Slytherin quidditch team chanting about them winning the upcoming match. It didn’t take a genius to tell they were overly confident.  

“No worries, we’ve trained for this,” you said turning back to the table and rolling up your sleeves. As much as you like your quidditch uniform its arm sleeve length got in the way when you were trying to eat.  

“One more hour until we can destroy them!” Ron said with a laugh to which Harry returned with a grin.  

“You both are so competitive” Hermione chimed in as she rolled her eyes before looking back at the book in her hands.  

“It’s almost concerning” you chuckled in agreement.  

“Don’t act like you don’t want to see them lose” Ron replied with a tone making it sound like he was defending himself.  

“I want to see us win” you explained.  

“How’s that any different?” Ron questioned with a mouth full of food and a raised brow.  

“Because she’s finding pleasure in her achievements rather than others loses” Hermione said firmly closing and placing her book on the table, to which Ron replied with another eye roll.  

“Yeah, but it Slytherin” Harry said as if he was to be proving some point, but you and Hermione looked at each other then back towards him as he missed the point all together.  

“So?” you replied.  

“So, I guess it’s alright to be happy when they lose” Harry said with uncertainty in his voice because as he was saying it out loud, he was beginning to hear how he may be in the wrong.  

“Don’t get me wrong I want us to win, but I think you two are a bit too hateful towards Slytherin. I mean sometimes you both say something I’d expect a Slytherin to say about a Gryffindor. Which is definitely not a good look”. You explained, hoping to talk some sense into them so try and defuse the rising tension between the house that always comes before a big quidditch match. Harry and Ron didn’t reply, they just shared a look between them realizing that you may have a point; as they do get quite competitive.  

The conversation quickly changed as Oliver Wood appeared and made the team gather around and talk strategy.  

You wouldn’t call yourself a confident person, but usually before a quidditch you would feel fine. Prepared. You were a strong player, and everyone knew it. However, today you weren’t feeling as prepared as you normally are, and you were unsure as to why. You just had a bad feeling about the match.  

As you walked out onto the field with your team, broom in hand, the icy wind almost imminently pricked at your skin. You looked up and saw that the sky had been painted with all different shades of grey clouds, indicating an upcoming storm.  

Everyone took their positions on the field and as you did you saw some of the Slytherin boys whisper something to each other while looking over at you and some of your teammates. This made you feel even more uneasy, and you tried to shake it off, but it kept dwelling on you that something was going to go wrong.  

The game began and everything went as expected aside from Slytherin taking the lead by a few points but nothing that couldn’t be overturned by the end of the game. It soon started to lightly rain, a sprinkle of water coating the stadium, making it a bit harder to see since the wind was moving the rain into your eyes.  

As the score got closer everyone understandably got more competitive and began to push the boundaries a tad, such as shoving someone a little harder than what is normally allowed during a match, but no student would ever report this to a teacher. It was like an unspoken rule that when the game got close the so could the players.  

You had flown to the side of the field after successfully passing the quaffle over to Oliver while avoiding being knocked off your broom. Oliver had managed to gain Gryffindor points with the quaffle pushing the score so that Gryffindor was now ahead of Slytherin. This did not sit well with the two Slytherins that were on your back trying to prevent you from passing the quaffle over to Oliver just moments ago.  

One of them was Marcus Flint. And although you couldn’t see the glare, he gave you from behind, you could almost feel it. Only a minute or two later something sharp caught the corner of your eye. You looked over to your right, but it had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. You had shrugged it off and continued to play the game but was shortly interrupted by a small, very bright blue flash across the field. You flew up high staring wide-eyed trying to find it again eyes scanning everywhere, hoping someone else had also seen it and that you weren’t going crazy. But you didn’t have much time to ponder as soon the bright light was headed straight towards you once again. You instantly flew away, occasionally checking behind you to see if it was still on your trail. Adrenaline coursed through your body as you flew at full speed before slowing down once you realized that it was no longer behind you.  

Shocked from the surprise of it all, you weren’t paying attention until you heard what sounded like distressed arguing. You saw Fred and Seamus from afar, you squinted trying to figure out what they were doing as it looked like they were either arguing or very worried. You began to make you way over there ignoring your surroundings, heading straight towards them, but before you could make it there someone came out of nowhere and sped past you, nearly knocking you off your broom. It was unlike anyone to race that fast at someone during the match so high off the ground even with the unspoken rule. You continued forward when once again someone flew right in front of you. You suddenly came to a halt and spun your head around to see what was happening behind you. You could feel the cold, icy air prick at your skin and make your nose pink and sore. Your hair was blowing rapidly in the wind, impairing your vision. You looked over and saw Ron from afar clutching his upper left arm with Oliver beside him. As you were about to fly over to them to make sure Ron was alright, when something sped past you, hitting you on the right side of your head.  

It knocked you hard, causing you to face forward again and even jolt a little bit on your broom. You were still able to maintain a steady grip with both hands on her broom; but that was quickly forgotten about when you began to feel a wave of nausea and dizziness. It quickly became a struggle to focus on anything, the world felt like it was spinning and your whole body felt numb aside from a slight tingle.  

But the numbness didn’t last long as soon a strong burning sensation formed above your right eyebrow. Still accompanied by the nausea, after only a few seconds you felt something wet run down the right side of your face. But this wasn’t the cold rain that was pouring all around you. This was warm and running fast.  

You slowly brought your hand up to the source of the pain and brought it back down only to find it covered in a bright red liquid. As if on cue, your hearing began to fade and soon you couldn’t hear anything around you; not your teammates, not the crowd, or even the cold wind that had been floating around all week. The only thing you could hear was your own racing heart. Your breaths were slow and deep as you tried to stay conscious, while your heartbeat was as fast as ever. The rain that was already trickling down you only helped spread blood down your face beginning to cover your quidditch uniform.  

Only a few seconds prior, Hermione had noticed the small flash fly across the field once again, but this time it went towards you, and seemingly hit you before you could see it coming. Hermione jumped out of her seat the second she saw you get hit. She was squinting her eyes and leaning ever so slightly over the banister trying to see what happened. Neville was quickly by her side using his binoculars to try to see what was happening. Hermione glances to her side at Nevilles binoculars and quickly snatches the binoculars from Nevilles grasp and places them before her eyes. Completely ignoring the fact that they were strapped around his neck, and he was now uncomfortably pulled into her personal space. Hermione saw your face slowly turn red, and she imminently dropped the binoculars, allowing Neville to stand up straight once more. “Oh Merlin” she whispered to herself, but loud enough for Neville and Luna who had also joined her side to hear and it, make them both look at her, unsure of what she saw.  

Unaware as to what everyone else was facing, Harry was speeding along the perimeter of the field, not far from the ground with Draco to his Left. Their knees collided and both of their gazes were strongly focused on the small golden snitch flying not far in front of them. The light rain and the air resistant due to their fast speed was causing them both slightly to squint into order to see. They both would push against each other with their shoulders in hopes that the other would fall off course. Their hair flew rapidly behind them as they tilted their heads forward, both trying to increase their speed. However, Draco’s gaze shifted to the stadium when he heard some loud yelling. But it wasn’t the normal yelling that happened during a quidditch match. This sounded like panic. He couldn’t make out what was being said but when he looked above Harry as he saw the Gryffindor podiums crowds’ gazes fixated on something behind and above him; and judging by their expression and stances with their arms pointing at whatever was causing the commotion, it wasn’t good. Draco only heard the yelling because he and Harry were flying right beside the crowd, however, Harry seemed to be too focused on the snitch flying just out of his reach to take interest in the sound. Draco turned his head to his left and after a quick scan of the field and the people on it, he saw what the commotion was about.  

Draco’s shoulder sunk and his eyes were wide fixated on the image in the distance. He wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was real. He saw you on your broom way up in the air. But you weren’t flying around. Instead, you sat up on your broom with only one hand gripping the broomstick. Your opposing hand was held to the side of your head, the palm painted red. His stomach dropped when he saw her face. Blood was pouring down the right side of it, covering the dazed expression. You were looking slightly over your right shoulder, towards the Gryffindor podium and crowd, which he was under. That’s probably why he heard them yelling. They got the best view of what had happened and started to panic.  

You felt a light head, and suddenly the overwhelming burning pain didn’t matter anymore. The frequency of your blinks increased significantly, as you tried to stay awake. You could taste the rain as your mouth hung open, desperately trying to take deeper breaths. But soon you realized that it was no good. Black dots began to appear, and you felt yourself falling. The last thing you saw was your broom only a few feet above you.  

Draco eye widened and he was quickly filled to the brim with panic, as he saw your figure in the distance go limp and fall to the side, beginning to make its way to the ground. Within less than a second of your body falling, Draco’s broomstick was pointed your way and just as before he was tilting his head and body forward increasing his speed. His gaze was focused the unconscious body in a bright red and gold Gryffindor uniform; and just like for you before, everything around him was a blur and he could only hear clouded muffles of what he would assume is the crowd being loud as per usual; not that he gave any thought to it, he didn’t care, in fact it seemed as if for the first time in his life he didn’t care about anything else; he was only focused on getting to you on time.  

Harry noticed Draco’s absence when he went to make a quick glance between him and the golden snitch. But as Harry noticed he was no longer next to him he was quick to notice a Slytherin uniform blowing in the wind flying away from him. Harry slowed his chase after the snitch and took notice of what Draco was chasing after. Rather than who he was chasing after, Panic swept through the boy as he was quick to follow Draco’s path, but Draco was significantly ahead of him.  

Flying through the rain at such a speed made the rain drops feel as if ice was pinching at Draco’s pale skin, but nether the less Draco was able to catch Potter’s limp body before you went crashing onto the ground. He held a tight grip, but the impact of catching you and trying to hold you on his broomstick made him lose control of his broom and he began to make his way to the ground. He was able to pull his broom upwards right before he collided with the ground, softening the fall for both students. Once you both hit the ground, Draco was thrown over you and landed roughly 5 meters in front of her. You were laying half on your stomach and half on your right side on the soft, wet grass. Your hair which you had freshly washed this morning, was scattered over your face, absorbing blood from the small pool that was forming under your rested head. Draco on the other hand found himself fully on his stomach with his head facing to his left, with his left shoulder taking most of the impact. Both uniforms were muddy and blowing slightly in the wind as they lay there on the wet grass.  

It didn’t take long for both teams to make their way to the scene, Oliver arriving first with Ron by his side clutching his upper left arm. They both kneeled by your side; Oliver gently pulling you onto your back, revealing what was once clear skin framing a soft smile, but was now a blood-covered face decorated with scratches. Oliver and Ron are both taken back by the sight, eyes scanning over the injury on your head. But before Oliver could even think of what to do next the whole Gryffindor quidditch team had made their way over and began crowding around them. Harry arrives at the scene and stumbles off his broom running and forcefully pushing his way through his teammates, only coming to a small stop when he finally sees his blooded-up sister on the floor; half her face covered in blood with her hair stuck in it, and the parts of her face that somehow weren’t bloody, were pale and lifeless. Before anyone could say anything to him, he was on his knees next to her, with tear-filled eyes and his hands clasping over her forehead in an attempt to try and stop the bleeding. He tried to reach for his wand to use a healing spell but cursed under his breath as he moved his hand back to your head after feeling his empty pocket. A reminder of the rule stating that no personal magical objects can be found or used by any player during a match.  

Draco was woken by his teammates pulling him up to his knees after he was briefly knocked out from the impact with the ground, and he was very winded; but he didn’t even assess or take note of the damage done to himself before he began carefully making his way up to the small crowd of both Gryffindor and Slytherin quidditch players, trying to peek through. By the time he made it through the crowd, he only got a glimpse before he spun his head around at the sound of an angry professor storming over to the scene.  

“Move aside!” Professor Snape called out while waving his arms out to push anyone out of his way. He was followed by Professor McGonigal who had her hands holding up her robes so she could hurry over. Behind her were Hermione, Luna, Nevile and a hand full of other people with worried expressions written all over their faces. Everyone stepped aside to let the professors in. Harry looked up at them with tear-soaked eyes, his hands were on his twin sister’s face; one on her cut and the other on her jawline, holding her face. For a second Harry could have sworn he saw Professor Snape’s eyes widen with concern. Within a second Snape was by Harrys side, he pulled out his wand and softly murmured a healing spell causing the slash on her forehead to slowly heal over. Professor McGonigal began questioning the students around her about what had caused this incident, but her tone made the questions sound like accusations. Relief filled Harrys body and he let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. His sobs calmed down and he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked over and it was Hermione who gave him a reassuring smile; telling him it would be alright. Draco also felt a gush of relief wash over him, and unfortunately for him, it didn’t go unnoticed. Hermione gave him a questioning look as she saw the relief on his face when he saw that her dear friend way going to be alright. Draco noticed Hermione’s stare when he made eye contact with her. Panic boiled within him at being caught and his cheeks blushed a little from embarrassment and he immediately looked away and avoided her gaze, staring at the grass below him acting as if he didn’t care.  

Harry returned his gaze to his sister who was being picked up by Snape. Snape was now standing up holding your still unconscious body in his arms.  

“I suggest you follow me to the infirmary Wesley” Snape suggested, referring to the fact Ron was clutching his upper left arm with a little bit of blood seeping out of it.  

“You got hit?! Are you alright Ron?” Hermione explained, turning to see the state he was in.  

“Better than her” Ron shrugged referring to you as he made his way over to Snape with the intent to join his trip to the infirmary.  

“Malfoy?” Snape said in his usual cold tone.  

“Huh?” Draco said, looking up a little surprised as he was in his head and not paying attention. Snape noticed that the boy was oblivious, and he let out a small disappointing sigh before replying.  

“Care to join us at the infirmary?” It almost sounded like a statement rather than a question because of Snapes usual cold tone. Draco looked down at his dirtied uniform and bruised hands. He will admit that his arm and back did hurt from the landing and he was sure he had a fair share of bruises underneath his uniform, and as much as he would like to follow, he knew that if he did he would want to check up on you, and that would draw a lot of unwanted attention and suspicion to the relationship between you and him, and after saving you there was enough speculation coming his way, he didn’t need anymore.  

“Uh- no I think I’m alright” He shrugged. Without any further questioning Snape turned around and began walking back to the castle accompanied by Ron. Harry stumbled to his feet and quickly began to follow Snape but was stopped by Professor McGonigal placing her arm in front of him.  

“I think you should stay; I need to have a word with you and everyone else here to figure out what happened today”, and with that Harry sighed, he wanted to protest and go with his sister, but he knew that she was in good hands; and he too wanted to know what causes her sister to bleed all over the Quidditch field.  

Professor McGonigal took the Gryffindor team to the side of the field to question them first, leaving the Slytherin team plus Hermione, Luna and Neville alone, while the crowd was told to go back to the great hall.  

There was only small chatter between the students before a few Slytherin students began chuckling. “Surely this means we win right? I mean we managed to get two of the Gryffindor players out of commission.” Marcus Flint chuckled rather loudly to his friends.  

Hermione shot them a quick glare, but they were seemingly unfazed by it. She knew they had something to do with what happened today. Draco, who had been standing around in silence avoiding any questions from his teammates while holding his still sore arm, shot a firm glare towards the Marcus Flint, having also caught on that he was up to something.  

“What?” Marcus mockingly questioned when he noticed Draco’s cold glare.  

“What did you do?” Draco asked coldly as he began walking over to the boy.  

“What does it look like, I won us the game mate!” Marcus chuckled while looking around at his friends who were also seemingly enjoying this.  

“You cheated!” Hermione exclaimed, “I saw a small flash of blue light move around the field”.  

“And what does that prove?” Marcus replied, with his horrific smile hung high.  

“You used a spell; you’ve got your wand with you” Hermione pointed out gesturing to his wand that couldn’t quite fit properly into his pocket.  

“Yeah, and what are you going to do about its Granger” Marcus stated as he began walking into Hermione’s personal space, towering over her in an attempt to make her feel threatened.  

“You put two people in the infirmary!” Nevile chimed in trying to see if Marcus had any remorse for his actions.  

“Congrats the boy can count” Marcus laughed while waving his hand in the air mockingly which was followed by laughter from his surrounding friends. “It’s not like anyone is going to miss those two” Marcus scoffed as he turned back to his friend.  

Draco glanced at the red stained grass then back up to Marcus who was chuckling alone with his friends like nothing had even happened. The boy was showing no remorse, so he wasn’t going to either. Hermione saw something change in Draco’s eyes, they suddenly went dark and before she could say anything he was clenching his fists and angrily walking up to Marcus. The second Marcus turned to acknowledge Draco’s precents, Draco swung his fist violently and fast at the boy’s left cheek, causing him to stumble to the ground. The pain in Draco shoulder was long gone, covered by his anger for the boy in front of him.  

“The fuck is your problem!” Marcus exclaimed as he stood up and swung back at the blonde boy. Cries were heard from the people around them as Draco took the punch given to him, but almost immediately returned it and managed to push Marcus back to the ground. Marcus brought Draco down with him and they continued to swing at each other, grabbing each other’s collars and pushing the other down. It wasn’t until Draco managed to pin Marcus beneath him and was mercilessly slamming his fists into the boy’s face before he was pulled back. Arms wrapped around him as he tried to push against them.  

“Stop! He’s not worth it” Oliver wood exclaimed as he was holding Draco back along with Fred Weasley.  

“You Piece of shit!” Marcus spat at Draco with blood coming out of his mouth, while trying to reach him; struggling against Blaise and Goyel grip.  

“ENOUGH!” Professor McGonigal exclaimed as she glared at the two boys, making them stop struggling to free themselves.  

“The Two of you, my office NOW!” McGonigal glared at the boys as they slowly stumbled to their feet with hung their heads low as they walked by her side to her office. An angry glare was exchanged between the boys ever so often as they made their way back to the castle.  

“What on earth has gotten into everyone today!?” Oliver exclaimed looking around at all the stunned students.  

“Malfoy beating the living shit out of Flint, now that's something” Seamus answered, not hiding his amusement  

“Yeah, but why?” Oliver continued  

“Because he cheated during the match, He was the reason your team got hurt” Hermione Chimed in.  

“What?!, That bastard!” Harry spat.  

“Why would Malfoy be so upset about Slytherin cheating? Wouldn’t put it past him to do it himself” Fred replied.  

“Merlin knows” Seamus sighed.  

“So are we just going to ignore the elephant in the room” George asked, causing everyone to send him questioning looks.  

“Which one” Seamus chuckled.  

“The fact that ‘The prince of Slytherin ‘abandoned chasing the golden snitch to catch and most likely save the life of the one and only ‘princess of Gryffindor’”. George explained. To which Fred replied with a small chuckle “well when you say it like that”.  

“Does seem a bit curious don’t you think” Luna gently stated.  

Harry shared a confused look with Hermione, both acknowledging that they needed to talk privately.  

“Whatever, I’ll discuss this later with McGonigal; we should pack-up and clear out of here before this rain becomes a storm” Oliver said he began making his way off the court, still pissed about how the match went down. Everyone soon followed him.  

Everyone had been told to go about their day as usual, but nothing about what had happened earlier was usual. Hermione had gone to speak to professor McGonigal about her suspicions involving Marcus Flint and his cheating. To which McGonigal was able to confirm when assessing the recent spells used through his wand. Quidditch matches had been suspended for the month due to foul play and to say everyone was upset was an understatement. Harry had spent most of the day by your side, with Ron as company. A few hours later you had woken to a killer headache and harry was quick to inform Hermione so she could come and see you, which of course she did and used the time to fill you in on what had happened.  

You were jaw-dropped shocked when Hermione informed you that the Draco Malfoy had flown over to you on a whim to catch you. Not only that but he had beaten up Flint because he was the one who was cheating and hurt you and Ron. None of this made any sense but for a moment it made your heart flutter with the idea that he actually cared. To some degree at least. But to be fair he must care quite a bit to have been the first person to rush over to help you. If you weren’t in so much pain, you would be eager to get out of the infirmary just so you could see him in potions but unfortunately that didn’t look like it was happening anytime soon.  

Hermione excused herself from your presence and began to make her way to the detention classroom which she had heard Draco had been placed in, leaving a trail of small clicks behind her as her shoes tapped the store floor. The room felt cold and isolating, only accompanied by the sound of rain against the rather large windows.  

Hermione slowly stepped towards Draco, where he was sitting on the edge of a crooked chair, silently looking down at his hands. Entering his field of view Hermione waited, expecting some form of acknowledgement but Draco held his gaze on the icepack he was holding in his pale and muddy hands.  

Hermione spoke softly, almost as if she was afraid that if she started him, he would disappear. “I heard McGonigal yelling from down the hall” She paused for a moment when he didn’t respond. “How long were you given?”.  

“8 weeks” Draco quietly grumbled after a few seconds.  

“And Marcus?”  

“12.” His tone was empty and careless.  

“Makes sense” Hermione said as she stepped closer to the boy, fiddling with her hands.  

“She woke up” Hermione quietly commented referring to you. She took note of Draco’s reaction. He had moved his eyes up but stopped before they met with hers and brought them back down to his hand; almost as if he didn’t want them to leave his hand in the first place. It was a small reaction, but it was still there.  

Hermione decided to continue figuring he was curious and wasn’t going to respond. “She is doing fine by the way; she’ll be out of the infirmary very soon.” Draco just nodded softly in repose still avoiding her gaze.  

“Draco” Hermione said softly and took a step closer, she waited for him to look at her and once he did, she was almost taken back a bit. She had never seen such a plain soft expression him this boy. His face always contained a scowl and a mischievous smirk. She has to blink herself back to reality and out of her thoughts.  

“You did a good thing today; you probably saved her life. The fall could have taken her out” Hermione tone was so genuine that Draco didn’t know how to respond.  

“So, thank you” Hermione finished softly with a small smile. Draco pressed his lips together in acknowledgement before Hermione turned to walk out the room, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts.  

Although Draco hadn’t said much to Hermione, a lot was exchanged, and she knew that she was going to revisit her conversation with you about his change in behavior. Draco was left dreading how mad his father was going to be about his actions, but once he remembered why he did them, his mind shifted, and he didn’t care as much about what his father was going to say, only what he was going to say to you. 

Broken Hearts Club

Steve Harrington x reader miniseries

It's been about two years since Steve Harrington left your best friends heart shattered, broken into tiny little pieces. You know all too well that's what he's really good at, breaking hearts. You think that he must get some sick satisfaction from it.

Over the summer you see him again for the first time, or you think you do. Because the Steve that rings up your ice cream cone is nothing like the one you remember in high school. Even further from the little boy you grew up with.

It's just a little teasing at first, giggling over how he stumbles with girl after girl. It's as if he's clueless. Sort of how you feel when your friend gives you your next ultimatum in your friendship.

You owe her. That's what she tells you when she asks you to date him, just long enough to get his spirits high before you dump him in the same way he dumped her. It should be easy.

Right?

CW: Former best friends to lovers, Sort of enemies to lovers, Reader uses Steve but then regrets it, smut, mentions of cheating, betrayal, Steve falls first but reader falls harder, lots of angst

Chapters 1. My Kink is Karma 2. Too Well 3. Favorite Crime 4. Justified 5. You Broke Me First 6. Bed On Fire 7. Is It Over Now? 8. Last Kiss 9. These Four Walls 10. I miss you, I'm sorry

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty two ⭐︎ Let the world around us just fall apart

Warnings: no warnings, I am not gonna spoil anything, read at your own risk and minors, get outta here as always

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 10.5k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult can you believe we made it here?... feels like we just started planning this story! anyways thank you for helping me proofread and perfecting the story ♡

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

“I don’t know if a dress would make him say yes to a date with his mortal enemy.” 

Billy scoffed at your words, rolling his eyes. 

“Mortal enemy, my ass.”

You were fidgety as you were walking towards the GAP store with your best friend by your side. You looked around you and stopped at the entrance, a sudden nervousness came over you when you looked inside. 

This was insane and it didn’t even feel right. You knew he would say no, not even a pretty dress could change his opinion of you. 

Steve couldn’t stand you, it felt ridiculous to even think of asking him out, knowing how it would end but your best friend put so much hope in you, he encouraged you so strongly, how could you not try?

Billy stood before you, a comforting smile crossed upon his features. 

“I– I can’t…”

You looked into his blue eyes, the kindness that was shining just for you, making your lips twitch. 

He took your hand in his and squeezed it, tilting his head down with a nod, he gestured to the store. 

“You can do it, sweets…”

His words echo in your mind, repeating over and over again, blurring your vision further as you look at the man before you with tears rolling down your cheeks and rain pouring down on you, you’re shaking like a leaf, not from the coldness that envelopes your body like an icy blanket but from all the emotions inside of you. 

And Steve, he stares at you, eyes blurred with tears that even you can see through your own. 

His head is pounding from all the sobs that left his lips, from all the tears he shed over you after what Robin told him about you, about your feelings for him. He feels ready to crumble to his knees as he looks at you now, ready to let those tears spill again, ready to take you back into his arms and try to forget. 

But despite the sadness, the brokenness in him, he also feels anger, not even for you but for himself. 

“What do you want?”

Tears spill from your eyes and your chest aches in pain and fear as you look at the heartbroken, angered boy in front of you. 

You have not heard that voice from him in a long time. That voice that had venom in it, directed only at you. The voice that held dislike, disgust, hatred. The voice that Steve once had towards you… and this time it hurts even worse than it ever did before. 

You see the way he looks at you, so different from how he did this morning and it makes you feel small, just the way it always did and suddenly you want nothing more than to turn around and run again, to leave and spare yourself more pain. 

But this can’t be the ending. 

It just can’t be. 

And the pain in his eyes, his reaction to whatever Robin had said to him fuels the hope that began to dwindle. If he didn’t feel anything for you, he wouldn’t stand here like this. 

Thunder crashes behind you so loudly that it makes you flinch and shut your eyes tightly, for only a second but a second enough for Steve to snap and truly look at the sight before him – the storm that rages behind you, the wind that curses through the forest, the lightning that surges through the sky, illuminating everything around you as loud rumbles vibrate against the ground while the rain pours down on you. 

You are standing here, in the middle of a storm, caught in the rain, you are standing here before him. 

His heart lurches to his throat when he hears your sniffle, sees the tears in your eyes and the way you are shaking as your bottom lip trembles. A broken cough falls from your lips and he instantly steps forward. Worry crosses out every other emotion in him as he reaches for your hand, his gaze softening the longer he looks at you. 

“Blondie! What the fuck are you doing here!? It’s— It’s storming!” He yells through the rain and tries to pull you into the house but you shake your head at him and take a step back, refusing to step inside. 

All the words, all the sentences, everything you had rehearsed and looked forward to all day flet away from you, the confession you planned no longer exists in your mind, it’s all blank. 

“I–I… I need to know… I need to ask… I-I never asked and I feel like I’m losing my mind now–”

A desperate sigh falls from Steve’s lips, he shakes his head at you, begging with his eyes as he moves closer to the doorstep, not understanding a single word you are saying. 

“What…? Blondie, you need to get inside, you’re fucking soaked–”

“No!” You shake your head at him, feeling uncomfortable beneath the pouring rain but refusing to give into the warmth just yet. “I need to… I need to tell you something!”

He can see the way you try your hardest not to cry, the way your glassy eyes look into his so brokenly, the way you look as though you will fall to your knees any second and it only makes the aching in his chest so much worse. 

“W-What?”

You take a deep breath and you almost choke from the sob you have kept inside for too long, that you can no longer hold as it falls from your lips so brokenly. 

“It’s all my fault! All this time, I blamed time and I blamed bad luck but never myself! If I only had said something to you, if only I had even shown you a little bit of what I truly feel, you may have noticed! I-I never tried! I never fought! And I am the only one to blame if I end up broken in the end!” 

Steve shakes his head at you, his tears falling yet again at the sight of you crying and speaking so desperately through your cries. 

“Blondie– you’re– you have to get in–”

He tries to reach for you again but you swat his hand away, sniffling and shaking your head. 

“For years I held it in! Even before the upside down, before joining the group and quarreling like never before with you! Even before any of what we had been doing for the past few months! When you passed me in the hallways, when you sat behind me in science class, when you had your basketball matches and even when I went to parties, I always looked at you!” Your voice cracks when another sob escapes you, and then another before they continue falling uncontrollably, feelings overwhelming you as you finally let them out after years of keeping them locked away. 

And Steve, he stares at you with wide glassy eyes, feeling stunned and frozen in place as his heart stops beating for a moment. 

“And– And now– I can’t hold them in anymore, because I feel like if I keep going like this I will explode– but my gut is telling me that I have to say it… but I’m so afraid… I’m so fucking afraid! I-I can’t lose you, not you, Steve.” 

His knees nearly buckle at your words, at his sudden movement as he finally rushes forward, stepping under the rain with you, not letting you move away from him again as he cradles your face with his hands and tilts your head up to make you look at him. 

It all moved so quickly, he didn’t have the time to properly digest everything that just left your lips but it all was enough to bring him back to you, to start his heart again, to fill it with the hope that he thought was burned to ashes only hours ago. He already saw his grave, he already saw his demise, the death of his heart when he thought that he found out what you had really felt for him. 

But you are here, not caring about the storm above you, not caring about the vulnerability you’re letting come through, not caring about anything but him at this moment. 

He grows desperate too and so does his heart as it calls your name. 

He rubs his thumbs against your cheeks, holding you so tightly as he fears that you will slip through his fingers at any moment, that he might wake up to an empty bed after sobbing himself to sleep, thinking about you but then you wrap your hands around his wrists, clutching them tightly as you cry. 

Now he can see it in your eyes, the look he always searched for but couldn’t find, now he can see it all so very clearly but it still isn’t enough, he needs to hear you say it. 

“Please… Please I beg you to say it… I need to know, baby, please. Y-You don’t have to be afraid anymore… not with me… So please, say it.” 

Your body trembles like it never did before, your heart pounds so strongly in your chest, you blink through your tears and stare up at him, into his hazel eyes that beg for you, the eyes that look at you with so much hope and desperation as tears cascade down his cheeks along with the rain that crashes down on the both of you. 

The boy you never thought could ever feel a sliver of what you feel for him stands in front of you, holds you so tightly as he pleads for you, for your love. 

“Please,” he whispers so brokenly, like your words, your love is the only thing he wants and needs. 

He begs for you and no one else, only you. 

The one you always wanted, the one you would give your life for, the one that had your heart from the very start. 

You take a deep breath and hold onto him tightly, your heart jumps to your throat when you finally, finally whisper those three words. 

“I love you.” 

Steve’s breath hitches in his throat, a weight he didn’t even realize he was carrying falling off his shoulders, his brows furrow as his lips part, fresh tears well up in his eyes and his heart starts beating again. 

He can’t believe that this is real, he can’t believe that he just heard those words coming from your mouth, he can’t believe that you are here, standing right in front of him with no walls built around you any longer, he sees a side of you that he wasn’t sure was there but it is and you let him see, you let him see all of you, the real you, the vulnerable girl that hid from the world, from him.

And now that those words have finally left the sacred place in your heart, you feel an overwhelming sensation taking control over you, your body begins to shake harder than it did before, tears are flowing and sobs continue on falling. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you!”

Your voice is so small, yet so loud as you chant those three words through your cries, clinging to him so tightly so you don’t fall to your knees. 

Words that Steve never thought he would hear echo through his driveway, falling from your lips so beautifully, nothing but the truth lingers in your eyes, nothing but vulnerability, nothing but a love he had never thought he would get to feel in this life, let alone from you, you who he had fallen for so unconditionally, so deeply that it hurt not only in his heart but in his soul when he thought that you didn’t feel what he does. 

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” you whisper, sniffling. “I love you so much, I always did, I–I loved you from the moment I first saw you, I have loved you for more than you can imagine! I have loved you for–”

A choked sob falls from his own lips before he pulls you tightly against him and smashes them against yours, kissing you with everything that he has, pouring every ounce of love into it, enveloping you in his arms, in his embrace, in his warmth. Holding your face in his hands is no longer enough, he wraps his arms around your body, pulling you tightly against him so your chest is pressed against his own. 

You lift your arms up and cup his wet cheeks, kissing him deeply, holding him tightly, not caring about the salty taste on your tongue or his. 

Steve cups the back of your head, deepening the kiss and getting lost in it, not minding the rain or the storm and you don’t either, you don’t even flinch when the thunder crashes. He kisses you hard and he makes you forget about everything around you, everything ceases to exist, everything but him. 

He murmurs something against your lips when you both grow too breathless to continue the kiss. 

He could not begin to describe the emotions that exploded inside of him. 

You love him. 

You love him just the way he loves you. 

You have loved him for absolutely nothing, when he was cruel to you, when he mistreated you, when he gave you nothing but cold gazes and his cruelty. 

You have loved him during times when he felt most unlovable, when he thought he had no one, when not even his parents wanted him, when his first love lied to him, betrayed him, left him only to come back and fill him with false hope again, only to leave him once again. 

You have loved him when you showed up at Scoops Ahoy that day, you have loved him when you jumped into the water to save him, you have loved him through it all, when this started, and when he began falling, you were already in it so deeply. 

But you were so good at hiding it, you were too good, too good at making him and everyone else believe how great your dislike was for him but you were such a good actress, why else would he have believed Robin’s words?

His hands settle on your upper back and he slowly brings them back to your front, sliding them upwards to your shoulders and then your neck. His brows pull together so strongly as the kiss slows down when the lack of air gets to both him and you. 

Your lips tremble against his, your lashes flutter when you open your eyes again, you trace his bottom lip with your thumb, still sniffling, still crying as you look at his pretty face. You feel so relieved now that it’s all said and done, that your feelings are out in the open and no longer hidden underneath all your layers that you protected yourself with, all these years. 

But you don’t know what this means for you now, not even the kiss could lay it out for you. 

But Steve, he stares at you in awe, at the girl he fell so deeply, unconditionally, otherworldly in love with. The girl that stands under the pouring rain with him, the girl that lets nothing stop her from confessing her love to him, not even the thunder, the storm she fears so greatly, the girl that stands in front of him isn’t the one he started this affair with, the one he bickered with, the one with the harsh words, no, this girl is the real you, the one that lost but still gave love a chance, the one that loved despite the blows to her heart he caused, despite the hurt he put her through. 

You felt that way during his worst days, you felt that way when he loved another, you felt that way when he was with other girls, you felt that way when he spit mean words into your face – all these thoughts overwhelm him, a mix of emotions flood through him, he is not sure if he is even deserving of this, of you but he would be a damn fool if he didn’t fight for you back. 

Steve stares at you through his tears, he leans down closer to you, taking shaky breaths as he finally says the words he never thought would leave his lips again. 

“I love you,” he whispers and cradles your cheeks again, “I love you so much and I’m stupid for not saying anything either–”

Your eyes grow wide, shock freezes your whole body as you stare at him. 

You knew there was something, there had to be but love? Love isn’t something you expected him to feel for you. 

“Y-You love me?” 

Your voice sounds so broken, so small, your eyes well up with more tears, your lips tremble harder than before and somehow you look even more vulnerable than you did seconds ago. 

How could he not love you? 

How could he not give his heart to you?

How could he not imagine a future with you? 

You are everything to him, you are his everything. 

His heart melts at your gaze, at the way you're clinging to him, looking at him wide eyed like you are afraid that he isn’t real, that this isn’t real. 

“I’m so fucking in love with you, Blondie,” he whispers, his voice cracking and tears continuing to roll down his cheeks, “keeping it a secret was tearing me apart, even more so when I thought that you didn’t feel the same.”

You can’t name the emotions that burn inside of you, not right now, at least. 

But all that you know is that you feel joy and happiness, like you have never felt before. 

Your heart feels alive. 

You feel alive. 

He loves you, Steve loves you, Steve is in love with you. 

His kind, soft eyes look into yours with nothing but adoration, love and affection. His hair clings to his forehead, his clothes wet just like yours are, he is crying, not from sadness anymore but from happiness, just like you are. 

You can’t help but kiss him again, slamming your lips against his shaky ones, you kiss the man who confessed his love for you, the man you never thought would feel the same. 

He wastes not a single second to kiss you back, your noses bump harshly together but it only makes you smile, it makes you both giggle against each other's lips. Feeling your shaking body against his, Steve wraps his arms around your waist and he pulls you back, leading you into the house without breaking the kiss. 

Your sneakers squeak against the tiles in the hallway, water drips down from the both of you, needy whines and huffs fall from yours and his lips, echoing through his house when he finally closes the door to the storm, he pushes you against the red door, caging you in against it as you grab at the collar of his shirt, pulling him tighter against you as the kiss grows more desperate and hungry. 

Steve feels it too, he feels the desperation, the need to feel you closer than this. Your body against his, your hands in his hair, your tongues clashing together through the feverish kiss isn’t enough, he needs to feel your skin on his, he needs to feel your warmth, he needs to hear your sweet moans, he needs to be inside of you. 

But first, he needs you to know. 

He can feel your tears on his lips, hear your sniffles, feel your pounding heart beneath his palm as he touches your chest. 

You have loved him for so long, you have suffered for so long and he knows that you didn’t understand yet just how deep his feelings are. 

Steve pulls away from the kiss, only enough so he can speak, close enough to still feel your lips against his, he leans his forehead against yours, keeps his nose nuzzled with yours, he rubs your cheeks, wipes your tears away as he pecks your lips again and again. 

You are both panting, both clinging to one another, gazing at each other lovingly. 

“You need to hear this, Blondie,” he whispers, not feeling scared or nervous any longer. “You need to understand my feelings for you. They’re not small, they’re not in the slightest. You are the one I imagine myself buying a white picket fence house with, the one I imagine myself marrying, the one I imagine having a family with, no matter if big or small, anything you give me I will take. You need to know that you’re my future, that I have been wanting you in my future for a long while now. There is no one else for me but you.”

Steve watches the way your eyes brighten, the way they almost turn doe-eyed, a shaky breath escapes you, like you can’t believe the words that just left his mouth. You blink at him, lips curling. “Y-You want kids with me?” 

You have been by his side for so long, you have been his girl from the moment you decided you wanted to be, you have always been the missing puzzle in his life, you have always been the one that was supposed to be here, with him. All this time, you waited, waited for him and he was so blind, so unaware, so focused on anything but the love of his life. It took him time to realize that, it took him too long but he knows now, he knew for a while. 

He smiles, wiping the falling tears from your cheeks as he leans in to give you a soft peck, “as many as you’re willing to have.” 

A giggle falls from your lips and you nuzzle your nose against his, leaning your forehead to his as you wrap your arms around him tightly. 

“I can’t believe that this is real.” 

And you mean every word of that. 

Steve can’t believe that someone could love him like this, so strongly, so unconditionally, not even expecting anything in return, loving him through the war between you, loving him through heartbreak, loving him through it all. 

You have been there. 

You have always been there. 

Tears spill over his lashline and down his cheeks, a watery giggle falls from his lips, the hurt in him disappearing more and more as the light seeps back in, a brighter one that his soul had ever seen before, his heart no longer twists in pain, it beats so strongly, so lively, so happily as nothing but love and joy shines in him. 

“Me neither,” he whispers against your lips, voice shaky and filled with tears, “I can’t believe that you love me, Blondie, that you want me like this.” 

You can’t help but kiss him again, again and again. You cup his cheeks, smiling through your tears as you do something you always wanted to, kiss his pain away, kiss the tears away that stream down his cheeks. You kiss his jaw, his chin, his cheeks, every inch his tears have stained, you kiss it all away. 

“I want you more than anything, Steve Harrington,” you murmur into his skin, making the boy sob against you as he holds you tightly, tighter than he ever did before. You grab his hand and pull it towards your chest, placing it above your beating heart, “my heart belongs to you.” 

Steve could never find the right words to tell you how he felt, no matter how long he’d look for them, he would never find them, they didn’t exist, and no words that do come close to explaining just how deeply he felt for you, not even the I love you’s he gave you already come close. 

So he decides to show you instead. 

He bends down and hooks his arm around the back of your knees while the other comes to rest on your back, he tears a squeal out of you when he picks you up bridal style and carries you upstairs. 

You throw your arms around his neck and hold on tight, giggling at his sudden move. 

He can’t help but smile at the sound that falls from your lips, his heart moving in a way it never has before, a whole new rhythm taking over when he feels the shift of energy in you, when he sees the look in your eyes changing, when you let all your guards down, stripping yourself off each layer. 

You press your lips to his, pecking them softly before you move onto his cheek and then his jaw and finally his neck, kissing him while he continues his way up the stairs, trying not to get too distracted by your touch. 

“I love you, Stevie,” you whisper into his skin, “I love you so much.”

You can’t stop saying those words now that you have finally allowed yourself to let them free. 

Steve has to swallow down the sob that threatens to spill from his lips again, your words bring him so much happiness but he is also so emotional.

Rain water drips from the both of you as he walks through his dark hallway, he is careful not to slip with his wet sneakers, he kicks open the door to his room and walks inside, shutting it again, making it slam. The only source of light now being the lightning that still illuminates the sky every few seconds, the rain paddles down harshly against his windows.

Steve puts you down again so he can undress both you and himself and rid you of the soaked and cold clothes but not before cupping your cheeks and kissing you again, rubbing your wet cheeks as your lips and tongues mingle together in a feverish but passionate kiss. 

He brushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears, he slips his hands down to your shoulders, removing your jacket and letting it fall to the ground, his fingertips grazing your bare arms that are littered with goosebumps. 

You hum against his lips, hands reaching for his belt, clinking as you unbuckle it. You then pop the button of his jeans and move on to his shirt as he does the same to you.

You both only break the kiss to take the chosen clothing item off, your eyes flutter open, instantly locking with his warm brown ones. You smile at one another as you help each other. 

You raise your arms up when he starts taking your white, now almost see through shirt off, he drops the material and wastes no second to touch your bare skin, staring at you with nothing but awe and adoration, like it is the first time he gets to see you like this. He touches you so delicately, so softly and gently that it brings a new wave of tears to your already sensitive eyes. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers those words to you, followed by your name that always sounds so pretty rolling off his tongue. 

Your heart flutters in your chest, your cold skin heats up beneath his warm touch. 

You take a step closer to him, almost pressing your chest against his now as you go to take his shirt off too, he looks down at you and bites his lip, eyes flashing with a deeper adoration when you rise to your tippy toes to roll the wet material off his skin, messing up his hair further when his shirt gets stuck around his head, making you both giggle. 

You rise up further, trying to pull it off when he mumbles, “don’t say anything now.”

When you finally free him from it, you throw it on the ground next to yours, smiling brightly, “there was a reason I called you Lego–” 

You gasp when he kisses you roughly, not letting you finish the sentence. You don’t hesitate to kiss back, placing your hands on his neck, touching his wet skin and raking your nails down his chest and his stomach, you reach for his belt while he kisses you breathless. 

His own hands travel down to your hips, leaving no space untouched. He feels the way you suck in a sharp breath, hears the way you whine against his lips as you tug at his pants just the way he starts working on popping the button on yours. 

You pull away from the kiss and breathe heavily against his lips, something that makes his heart flutter in his chest. 

He starts pushing down your pants when you stop him by grabbing his wrists. 

“Wait,” you whisper, worrying him with the tightness of your hold on him.

“W-Why? Is something–”

Before he can even question you, you stop him once again by pressing your lips against his, “everything is perfect,” you murmur against his skin, making his heart skip several beats as you continue kissing him, “you’re perfect.” 

He is so close to tears once again, your words match the look in your eyes so perfectly, the love that is and was only ever reserved for him is so strong that he can’t help but wonder how he never saw it before, it’s so clear and so evidently there. 

Steve never saw himself as anything perfect, not even when everyone else thought that about him throughout his short lived ‘reign’, he always had flaws, always saw them in himself, always felt like there was something wrong with him deep inside. But you make him feel special, you make him feel like he is truly something perfect, like he is worth something with the way you look at him and touch him so delicately as you reveal the side of you that wanted to love so desperately but never felt safe to. 

“I want to make you feel good, Steve,” you whisper as you latch your lips onto his neck, slowly kissing your way down to his chest and stomach before you begin to sink to your knees, “please let me.” 

Steve’s eyelashes flutter as his eyes close for a moment, the feeling of your lips kissing his wet body making him shiver in pleasure. He opens his eyes again when you hook your fingers around his belt loops, trying to tear his pants down but he stops you just the way you stopped him, the look you give him nearly makes him crumble, the big and pleading eyes, the pout on your lips, the desperation written all over your face. 

He wants to sink to his knees for you. 

He wants to make you feel good. 

So he leans down and grabs you beneath your armpits, picking you up with ease and throwing you on his bed and despite the sound of your whine, he pulls himself together and takes the rest of your clothes off, tearing off your shoes before he works his way up to your jeans, leaving you in just your underwear. 

He stares at your body in awe and in love, tracing every inch of you with his eyes as he quickly rids himself of his clothes and kicks off his shoes hastily before he gets down before you, wrapping his hand around your ankle, he looks into your eyes and he presses his lips to your skin, slowly kissing his way up to your thighs. 

“Steve,” you whine with a whisper, eyebrows furrowing and pleasure already seeping into your bones. “Please… I want to–”

“Shh, I want to taste you, my love.”

My love. 

My love. 

He called you my love. 

Your heart could burst right this second, it could explode, from joy, from happiness and love. 

You hear nothing but his voice, the smacking of his lips against your skin and the beating of your heart as he loves on you. You no longer hear the howling wind or the crashing thunder, the bolts of lightning only add to the rush you are feeling right now as you look down at him, at the pretty man between your thighs. You throw your hand into his hair, tugging at his wet strands.

“Please, Steve… Baby, I want to taste you too, I want to make you feel good, please let me…” You whine, not feeling ashamed for the desperation in your voice. “W-We can do it at the same time, please…”

Steve’s stomach flutters at your words, he stops moving and looks up at you with a blush making its way up to his cheeks. 

That is something you haven’t done before, not with each other, not with anyone else. 

His blood rushes to his core just at the image of it, his stomach burning with lust as he looks into your eager eyes. 

“You can’t say shit like that, darling,” he nearly growls and pulls away from you to take his boxers off before he moves on top of you, stealing your breath by slamming his lips back against yours, kissing you needily. 

Your moan echoes through his room, getting louder when he grinds against your center, he pushes his hands beneath you so he can unclasp your bra, ridding you off the lacy material, he throws it on the ground before he moves on to your panties. He pulls away for just a second, hooking his fingers around the elastic and helping you get rid of them in a quick motion. His lips slam against yours again as his hands move back up to your waist, grabbing it with both hands, he flips you over so you’re the one on top. 

You press your hands against his shoulders, whining when you feel his cock pressing against your center, thighs already sticking together. 

He moans loudly when he feels your warmth against him, lust swirling inside of him. 

You pull away from one another and he pushes his hands down to your butt, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Turn around, baby…” He whispers and you don’t waste a second to comply.

You take a deep breath and cup the side of his face, pecking his lips softly before you turn around, your knees dig into the mattress, your hands grabbing his thighs roughly when you feel a sense of nervousness rushing through you, your cheeks heat up at the position you are in, fully exposed to him in a new way but that feeling in you subsides and turns into something else when you see his erection, pre-cum rolling down his length and making your mouth water as the need to taste him, to pleasure him grows stronger than before. 

And Steve, his eyes darken with lust and he grabs your hips tightly, already leaning forward, he can’t wait any longer when you’re like this in front of him, fully exposed, your folds soaked with your slick and thighs already glistening too, you are so wet that he can smell it. He gives you a rough squeeze before he leans in and licks a stripe from your clit to your hole, making you gasp out in pleasure, a sound that shoots straight to his dick. 

Your eyes nearly roll back at the feeling of his tongue, of his mouth on you as he dives right in, devouring you so desperately as though he needs it, needs you like air. 

And you need him too. 

You press kisses along his shaft, teasing him by massaging his balls and you slowly flick your hand up and down around him, humming against him as his moans sound through the room, getting more desperate the longer you continue this. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” you promise before you spit down into your palm, wrapping your hand back around his length, a little firmer this time, you jerk him off and swirl your tongue around his leaking tip before you finally wrap your lips around him and take him deeply into your mouth, closing your watery eyes and hollowing your cheeks around him. 

Steve moans loudly against you, sending vibrations through you, he slips his tongue inside of you, holding you tighter than before as he laps at your pussy with desperation, getting lost in the pleasure of tasting you and feeling your warm mouth around him. 

You look so perfect, so fucking sexy with your hair falling down your arched back, your skin glowing beneath the flashing lights of the storm, he can’t help but run his palm up and down your butt, squeezing and grabbing at your skin, moaning even louder when you grind back against his face as you take him deeper and deeper until Steve can feel the back of your throat. 

He whimpers your name, eyes rolling back as he delves deeper into you, slipping two of his fingers into you along with his tongue, he scissors you, spreading you open for him. He can feel you clenching around his fingers, he can feel you drooling all over him. 

Your moan vibrates all around his cock, making you pull it out of your mouth in order to take a breath. Your concentration starts to fail you as his fingers move rapidly inside of you, his tongue lapping at everything he can take that is dripping out of you. You keep moving your hand on him as your hips twitch. 

“S-Stevie…” He doesn’t care that you are not sucking him off right now, he is only caring about your pleasure. He needs you to feel treasured, cared for, and he needs you to feel it with him only. That he is the only one that can bring you all of this, even if it sounds possessive… He wants to be the only one, forever.

You feel your belly burn and you look down at his cock, trying to pull yourself together, trying to forget about the throbbing happening in your pussy. You want to make him feel good. You want to hear him come undone as well. So you open your mouth once more, licking at the head and pressing the tip of your tongue right on the slit. You feel Steve groan against you, and then you finally take him inside once more.

You bop your head, swirling your tongue around him as tears fall from your eyes, you are so deeply lost in the pleasure, you forget everything around you, only he matters. You can feel him twitching in your mouth, you can hear his moans and how much louder they get and you feel your own release approaching as he flicks your clit with his thumb and curls his fingers inside of you, using both his digits and his tongue to unravel you. 

“I know you want to let go for me, darling,” he murmurs against you. 

You can only hum around him, wanting to feel him cumming down your throat. 

“Please do it, cum on my tongue,” he whispers as he drags his fingers in and out of you, making your stomach tense up hotly. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, twisting your wet palm around him as drool continues to roll down his length. You want him to find his release, you want it so badly. 

You grab his knee, holding on tightly as a cry tears from your throat and your legs nearly give out when your high washes over you, shaking through your core and making your body feel tense yet released all at once. His other hand gripping your hip tightly to keep you pressed against his mouth, not letting you move away.

“Mmm,” Steve hums against you as though you are the sweetest thing he ever tasted. 

You wish you could see his face. 

“Just like that,” he praises, giving your butt another squeeze, he laps at your pussy, dragging his tongue along your folds, teasing your already sensitive clit before he moves back to your entrance. 

His own hips almost buck up when you hollow your cheeks further and take him deeper, nearly making him cum too soon for his liking. 

“W-Wait, baby, please… I wanna cum inside of you,” he says with a shaky, pleading voice as he tugs at your waist, trying to pull you off him so he can have you back in his arms, so he can see your face again and feel you around him differently. He would’ve chuckled at the whine falling from your lips if he wasn’t so emotional right now. “Come here,” he whispers, holding you tightly as he turns you around and pulls you onto his lap, straddling him. 

Meeting his eyes again, your lips part when you see the burning desperation in them, his cheeks are flushed and his chin glistens with your release. He looks so beautiful. 

Steve’s hands move from your waist to your hips, fingers digging into your skin as your own hands reach for his shoulders. 

No words need to be said, you both know what you want, what you need as your eager hands reach for one another, trying to pull the other closer and closer until you’re skin to skin, closer than you have ever been before. 

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours and wrapping his arm around you, hugging you against him as you place your hand between you both and wrap it around his length again, teasing both him and yourself when you slip it through your sensitive, wet folds. 

Your bottom lip trembles, emotions running deep because of his words. 

You never thought that you would ever hear such words falling from his lips, you never thought you would ever be this blessed. 

You throw your arm around his shoulder and press your lips against his as you slowly sink down on his length, taking him deeper and deeper until you’re fully seated on him, making both yourself and him whimper in pleasure. His fingers dig deeper into your skin, holding you tighter than ever, he stops breathing when he feels you clenching around him, whining as you adjust to his size. 

His heart skips a beat when you place your palm on his chest, resting it there as you press yourself even tighter against him and it hits him – this is it, everything he ever wanted now belongs to him, it’s all his, you are his. 

And he is yours, wholeheartedly and unconditionally yours. 

You start rolling your hips slowly, breathing heavier, holding onto him tighter, gasping and sucking in sharp breaths when he moves with you, pushing his hips up as he fucks into you deeper. 

A sniffle falls from you when you pull away from the kiss, breathing in shakily, you open your eyes slowly to find him looking at you already, a loving, soft gaze flashing in his honey eyes, the love in them not hidden at all, it’s all open for you now, all there for you to see and to feel as he leans into you, pressing his lips to your chin and peppering kissing along your jawline, making his way down to your neck as he murmurs your name sweetly. 

“You have no idea how much I love you,” he whispers, followed by your name that rolls off his tongue so beautifully. “I was going crazy, thinking that I didn’t stand a chance with you, honey.” 

He was the only one for you, from the moment you laid your eyes on him, he was the only one. 

“S-Steve,” you whisper as you feel yourself nearing another sob, his words and his touches overwhelming you.

You bury your hands in his hair, combing your fingers through it before you grab it tightly. 

“I don’t think you understand,” he whispers against your collarbones, leaving tender kisses and marking your skin with love bites, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

Your bottom lip quivers, your chest contracts and you can’t hold it in any longer. 

Years of pining and longing, of feeling hopeless and unworthy of him and his love while watching, admiring from afar and wishing for nothing but a chance with him, a piece of his heart, all while losing yourself in a darkness you have found home in, a darkness he took away again. 

He gave you light and warmth and now he gave you more, not only a piece of his heart but he gave you his whole. 

Your tears spill just as strongly as before, an uncontrollable sob falls from your lips, leading you to bury your face in his neck, you wrap your arms around him so tightly, hugging him strongly, breathing in his scent and letting your heart match the beating of his own. 

“I got you,” Steve whispers as he blinks through his own tears, “I got you, darling and I’m not letting you go, not ever.” 

You press your lips to his skin, shutting your eyes tightly. The burning in your chest, in your stomach all feeling too much, you hold onto him, you cling to him, scared of letting go. 

Steve’s heart could burst at any second now, feeling your tears rolling down his skin, your hands, your body clinging to him like you’re afraid to lose him because you are, you are afraid to lose him. 

Someone is afraid to lose him. 

And he nearly let you slip through his fingers. 

A silent cry falls from his lips this time, tears pool in his eyes and he pulls you closer and closer until you’re completely flush against one another, pushing in deeper and deeper to feel you closer, to feel you in the most intimate way as he spreads you open and you pick up the pace, rolling your hips faster, whimpering and gasping into his neck. 

“Please don’t let me go,” you whisper, pressing kisses to his hot skin, “please don’t ever leave me,” you beg despite the promise he just made to you. 

The brokenness in your shaky voice only makes him more desperate to show you just how deeply in love he is with you, how he would do anything for you, how there is nothing and no one that could take him away from you, how he would come crawling back to you over and over again even if you didn’t love him. 

He slides his hand up your body, cupping each side of your face, he urges you to face him, wanting to see you again and you look at him, with big and glassy eyes, you look into his eyes. 

“I will never leave you,” he whispers softly, wiping your tears before he reaches for your hand, bringing it back up to his chest, he places it over his heart, “I’m yours, my heart belongs to you, darling.”

Steve sees it in your eyes, just how long you have wanted this for, how special this moment is to you, how special he is to you, how much love there was hidden in your heart just for him. 

He will worship the ground you walk on for the rest of his life. 

“I love you so much,” you sniffle, unable to say anything else. 

His lips curl into a smile despite the tears that fall down his already wet cheeks, he pulls you against him, bumping his nose against yours accidentally as he pecks your lips, “you make me so fucking happy,” he kisses you, “and I don’t think you even realize that.” Kiss. “I’m so in love with you, honey.” Kiss. “I love you with my whole heart–”

You smash your lips against his, kissing him with everything that you have, moving your lips softly yet roughly with his, parting them with your tongue as you slip it into his mouth, deepening the kiss further. 

He moans against you, placing his large hand on your cheek, he matches your pace and kisses you back hungrily, getting lost in the feeling of you, of your heat and your burning skin against his, your walls that tighten so strongly around him that it makes his mouth water and his cock twitch inside of you, his body screams for release but his heart aches for this moment to never stop, not realizing yet that this is only the beginning of your story. 

Your hands grab at whatever they can reach, his shoulders, his biceps, his face, his messy hair and finally his hands as you pull them away from your chest so you can intertwine your fingers with his. You feel the coil in your stomach growing bigger and bigger, the burning in your thighs intensifying by the second. His moans and whimpers vibrate against your lips when you keep clenching around him.

Filthy sounds take over the room, your whines of desperation, the slick noise of his cock slipping in and out of you as you ride him, the sound of your lips smacking against each other. 

But nothing, nothing about this moment is filthy or dirty. Everything about this is more than special, more than what words could describe this very moment. Your hearts beat the same rhythm, finally finding each other, your souls entwine as your bodies meet in the most intimate way, you are both overwhelmed by the feelings that rush through you and yet you feel peace because you finally are where you were always supposed to be, in each other’s arms, holding one another and making love to each other as everything fades to nothing but the two of you. 

And it feels like forever, neither of you no longer wet from the rain but from the sweat that coats your foreheads, your moans turn into weak whimpers as you’re both panting, your kisses never stopping, not even when you lose your breaths, you are aching, you both are, you are sensitive and in need of release. 

You are shaking and so is he, his cock so hard inside of you, your walls so sensitive as you are twitching. 

He holds you possessively, from the strong hold on your waist to the touch of his hand on your cheeks, he is showing you with his touch that you are his, only his. 

No words need to be shared, no warnings, nothing, you both feel it, you both know what you want, what you need. 

Despite the lack of air, your kiss deepens, your lips moving roughly and needily as his digits work on your sensitive nub, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You wrap your arms around him again, hugging him so tightly as you and he finally let go, allowing yourself to bask in the pleasure of coming undone. 

Steve moans so needily, pressing his palm so strongly against your shoulder blade, he keeps you close, whimpering your name against your lips followed by not one but a few ‘I love you’s’ as he fills you up to the brim. 

“S-Stevie,” you whisper shakily, twitching and clenching around him still, even as you slow down, more and more. “I love you.” 

And even when this moment felt forever, it still wasn’t enough, how could it ever be? Not even forever would be enough with you, he needs more, so much more. 

You fall limply against him and rest your head on his shoulder as you try to catch your breath and he holds you through it all, panting just like you as he lies back, taking you with him, and rests his head on the pillows behind him, playing with your hair and running his fingers through it, tracing your skin with the tips of his fingers, making no moves to pull out of you just yet. 

The heat of your skin burns against his own, your hand lays over his heart so perfectly and he takes it in his, raising it up to his lips and kissing your bare ring finger. 

In the arms of the man you love is where you found your home a long time ago but now it no longer feels cold or lonesome, one sided or saddening, it truly feels like home now, filled with light and warmth, love. He found a home in you too, he finally did. 

Seconds and minutes go by and you stay like this, clinging to one another and loving every moment of this. Your cheek is squished against his chest, you are breathing him in, your heart fluttering at the thought that this is the true beginning of it all. 

You open your eyes, your lips curling into a smile when you find him looking down at you, adoration so deep in his beautiful features, his hand still holding yours. 

It’s so dark in the room, the lightning no longer flashing, thunder no longer rumbling, the storm has passed and only the light rain remains. You still see his handsome face, the color of his cheeks, the pretty brown eyes that you adore so much, his kissable lips. 

You cup his cheek and tilt your chin up, moving closer to him so you can press your lips against his cheek. 

“You’re so pretty, Steve Harrington,” you whisper and kiss the corner of his mouth, “pretty baby.” 

Steve doesn’t know why out of all the words you have called him, these are the ones that make him blush the most, his cheeks redden and he feels grateful for the darkness in the room. 

“That’s you, darling,” he whispers and steals a kiss from you, snaking his arm around you further, he smiles when you press your palms against his chest and lean your chin down, staring up at him with love filled eyes. 

“Darling,” you whisper, lips curling into a smile, “I love that.” 

His hands squeeze your waist, his eyes not straying away from you, not for a single second, “yeah?” 

You nod and lean closer to kiss his chin, “mhm.” 

As you lay here on top of him, showering him in kisses, gazing up at him starry eyed, he feels comfort and warmth blossom in him thinking back to a time when he wasn’t even aware of all this, when he didn’t think that it was even possible for anyone to love him, to find out that you did, you out of all people, you who he thought hated his guts more than anything but loved him in secret, a secret you nearly took to your grave. 

Oh, he would have suffered, he would have felt such a tragic loss if you had died that night but it wouldn’t have hit him until weeks or maybe even months later, when he would have finally allowed himself to look at your picture, to remember the memories of you, to remember your voice and your beautiful face, remember the few gentle moments you had with each other, only then would he have felt the truth coming to life, the feelings he always refused and denied, he would have realized that it was you, that it should have been you, that it was always supposed to be you but it would have been too late, you would have been gone and it would’ve broken him, he would have never recovered, he would have never forgiven himself for finding his love for you when it was much too late.

You would have been the loss of his life. 

That thought shouldn’t even plague him right now because you’re here, in his arms, tracing his skin with your finger as you smile up at him. 

“I love you so much,” he whispers instead of tracing those words into your skin like he had gotten used to doing. 

This all still feels like a dream, a way too good of a dream.

The smile that reached your eyes wasn’t one he had ever seen before, no matter how happy, how comfortable you were around him, he had never seen such a bright, happy, relaxing smile on your pretty features. 

He had never felt the touch of your lips in such a soft way, a kiss so delicate that it made his chest vibrate with a new wave of emotions. 

“And I love you,” you murmur against his lips, “I hope you don’t get sick of me saying that.”

Steve scoffs at your words, raising his brows as he stares at you in disbelief, his hand moving up to your upper back, resting them on your shoulder blades as he presses a kiss to your nose, “honey, this is all I ever wanted.”

To hear him say such words only makes the dream-like state you are in much more intense. 

Who would’ve thought that you would hear these words from him? 

“I always had a crush on you,” Steve whispers, admitting something to you that he himself struggled to accept only a few months back. 

This time, it’s your eyebrows that shoot up in surprise, shock flashing in your eyes, “w-what?”

There is no way that Steve ever felt anything other than dislike for you, especially before the upside down. 

Steve chuckles to himself, moving his hand up to your face, he tucks your hair behind your ear and smiles at you. 

“I always watched you too, Blondie,” he admits, watching the way your softened eyes fill with confusion, “but I was an idiot, I-I didn’t know how to talk to you, I knew how to talk to every other girl but you? Fuck,” he sighs, furrowing his brows as he takes a deep breath, “I didn’t know how to talk to you because you made me so fucking nervous, it’s like all my confidence slipped away the moment you looked at me with those pretty eyes.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat at his eyes well up with tears again, words he had kept inside for so long now finally slipping from his lips. 

“And you weren’t… you weren’t–”

“Nice?” You ask, tilting your head to the side, your heart starts pounding again. 

He chuckles for a moment and shakes his head, “no, I– you weren’t supposed to be nice to me, I wasn’t nice to you, but that’s not what I mean, I… You just, I don’t know how to– I always messed up around you and it kept happening so I put on this King Steve persona, especially when I was around you and fuck… Honey, I tried to impress you but I always felt like you weren’t looking at me, no matter what I did, you were never looking at me.”

You don’t know what hit you harder tonight, the three words he repeatedly blessed you with or this revelation. 

All you know is that you feel it in your core, the shock and the confusion. 

You shake your head a little, like you don’t understand a word he said. 

“When we wrote notes to each other, I-I didn’t want to admit it to myself back then but I really fucking hoped that something would come out of it but nothing did… I know you thought that Tommy set me up to it but he didn’t.”

You don’t know what to say, you don’t even know what to think, it’s all so much, it’s all too much for one night. 

“I-I don’t–”

Steve cups your cheeks, shaking his head as he isn’t done yet. 

“No, I waited for you… I waited for you at every game, I always looked around trying to find you in the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of you, even when I didn’t want to admit it to myself, I always waited for you.” 

Your eyes crinkle though they well up with tears again, you couldn’t describe the feelings in you, not even if you tried. 

His hands on your skin feel softer than ever, his eyes shine with tears and his bottom lip quivers.

“I was there, Steve,” you whisper, blinking through your tears, swallowing the nervousness, “I was there.” 

He nods, lips curling into a soft smile, “I know that now b-but I wish I knew back then, I wish I wasn’t so hard on you…”

You know the look in his eyes, the regret, the guilt he feels from that day at the mall and the few other bad ones. 

But they don’t matter anymore, they haven’t mattered for a while now, and they especially don’t matter now. 

Shaking your head, you lean up, cupping his cheek too, you kiss him sweetly, softly, stealing his breath away with tenderness. You place your hand over his, guiding it down to your chest and placing it over your heart. 

“Those days are over, they don’t matter anymore,” you whisper and keep a tight hold on his hand, “you have me now.”

And you have him. 

He is yours, he wants to be yours so badly. 

Steve nods, leaning into the touch of your hand, he blinks his tears away and moves his head, pressing his lips against your palm, and he kisses you there, making you smile. 

“And you have me,” he whispers softly, watching the way your eyes sparkle with happiness, with love. 

You catch him by surprise when you start showering him in kisses, pressing your lips to his face, to his cheeks and his forehead, to his nose and his chin and then finally his lips, making him giggle at the sudden sweet affection and then, you cutely nuzzle your nose against his, giggling through it all yourself. 

You only did this once, on the fourth of July, when you were wasted. Your lips went crazy across his whole face, you kissed him all over, complimented him and looked at him as though he was your own personal sun. 

How could he not see back then? 

How could he not see that it wasn’t the alcohol but the love you already felt for him, the love you couldn’t contain in that moment. 

Steve makes you squeal when he moves too suddenly, grabbing your waist and flipping you over so he is the one on top, he cups your cheeks and leans down, doing what you just did, leaving no spot unkissed. 

“Steve!” You giggle, squeezing your eyes shut as he trails kisses down to your jaw and your neck, tickling you with his hair and the light stubble around his mouth. You grab at his waist, holding on tightly. 

“You’re so fucking cute,” he murmurs into your neck, kissing you there over and over until you grab his face and pull him back up to you. 

He looks down at you, moving his hand up to your face, he tucks away your hair and caresses your cheek, admiring your puffy lips, your beautiful eyes as you look at him with nothing but love in them. 

Everything he ever wanted is now right in front of him, in reach and now all he needs to do is ask. 

“Do you want to go on a date with me, Blondie?” He asks, unable to contain the smile on his face as he watches the way your eyes crinkle and a giggle falls from your lips, you cup each side of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, answering him in the sweetest way.  He only chuckles against your lips, pulling away for just an inch in order to mumble against your lips, “I need words darling…”

And that little word that will change your life forever finally comes out of your lips,

“Yes.”

 ♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

4th July - Part 6 - chris sturniolo x femreader

pt1. pt2. pt3. pt4 pt5

you flop down on the seat with a frustrated sigh, finally admitting defeat. you'd played the 3 games you had paid for and had chris had beat you every time. of course he had. you'd never played a game of top golf in your entire life.

chris smiles at you cheekily as he walks his way over to you, before he flops down and instantly puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest.

"dont be a sore loser, pretty girl" he whispers in your ear, his voice sending shivers across your whole body before he lets you move away from him again, leaning forward and grabbing his drink.

you pull your hair away from your eyes as you look at him.

"you could have let me win at least once" you moan, and he chuckles again as he puts down his drink.

"and not teach you how to play properly? never. i tried to help, didn't i?"

yes. he had tried to help. your heart was still racing with it now.

you had let out a frustrated cry as the ball once again went no where, and you had automatically looked to chris for guidance. he didn't even notice you weren't hitting the ball right to start with, his eyes trained all over your body. the jeans your wore showing off your ass. the skin of your exposed stomach as you wore a off the shoulder crop top, shoulder moving as you swung the club. your make up the most beautiful he had ever seen it. he could tell you had made an effort for him, and it made him smile, even thought he thought you were beautiful with or without it.

he had chuckled as he walked over to you, taking position behind you. hands on your hips as he angled you better before his hands held onto the backs of yours, as he practically took the shot for you, just your body entwined in front of his. when you and he hit the ball and watched it fly further than it had done all night, you turned your head over your shoulder to look at him, but your nose brushed together. he had smiled and looked down at your lips, before you uttered out a thank you, and pressed your lips against his.

it was your first kiss of the night, and you had lost count of how man kisses you had had since that moment just a little under an hour ago.

you rolled your eyes at him now, but a smile escapes you. "okay, yes. you did."

and he leaned forward and gave you another kiss. you weren't sure you were ever going to get enough of him and those lips.

he looked down at his phone now and saw the time was just nearing 6pm, because yes, you had called him the moment you were ready earlier in the day as you simply couldn't wait till the evening to see him, and he looks to you.

"so, what now? do you wanna go somewhere for drinks?" he said, his hand coming to your thigh. you look down at his fingers before placing your hand over his.

"you want to keep the date going?" you tease. he smirks as he bends forward now, his lips just inches from yours.

"i fear i want to keep this going forever." and then his lips press yours again. your hands come up to the nape of his neck as his hands rubs against your thigh, and for a moment you forget where you are. you forget the prying eyes likely upon you. you forget that people might even recognise who you both are. but you don't care. this felt right. this felt comfortable and so okay.

he pulls away from you now and theres a hazy look in his eyes, like he's contemplating saying something. so you wait. his eyes scan your entire face for a second, hand squeezing at your thigh, a sharp breath escaping your lips.

"i might be crazy, but-"

"are you done with these?" a voice comes from the side of you. you jump, turning your head to look at the voice and noticing the staff member pointing towards your plates and trays of food. you'd gone for a mixture of things, picking at them as you went along. wings, fries, ribs. but truthfully you hadn't eaten a lot, both too infatuated

"uhm, yeah, thank you." you smile.

the staff member smiles at you as he picks up the plates and trays, and when he finally walks off you give him a smile before turning back to chris. but he's shifted in his position and his cheeks are slightly red. his hand no longer on your thigh but clutching his phone, his knees doing a nervous jig. when he knows you're looking at him again, he smiles and stands, shoving his phone back in his pocket before holding our your hand.

"shall we go, then?"

"yeah," you start, lifting yourself from the seat and grabbing his hand. he pulls you forward immediately before you can even finish your sentence.

you make your way to the exist, the hustle and bustle of the place becoming quieter as you get to the car park, but you don't reach for your car keys just yet.

"what where you gonna say in there?" you ask.

he ignores you. you can tell he's ignoring you.

"chris" you press on.

"hmm?" he says, but he still doesn't turn to look at you, so you stop. you'd be lying if you said your heart didn't hurt a little. had you done something wrong? was he about to get in the car and tell you that actually, he didn't want to go for drinks and if you could drop him off home?

"are you okay?" you ask, and he stops now to look at you. luckily theres no cars wanting to come through the car park because you'd be swiftly moved along.

"yes. sorry. im good. really good. are you?"

you can see him panicking slightly, but it only stresses you out more.

"i just - im not sure. you dont seem yourself."

he smiles before he grabs your face in his hands, his eyes looking all over your face.

"sorry, i didn't mean to give you that impression. im okay, promise."

"its not me?" you blurt. you're being annoying. you're being overbearing, you know you are. but damn, there is something about this boy.

"oh my god" he says, shaking his head. "its never you. you're everything, pretty girl."

and then he kisses you. soft. but lingering for a second or two. when he parts he looks at you, and you can tell he's sincere, so you giggle. you actually giggle.

"so fucking cute" he laughs, but you push his hands away and roll your eyes, which only makes him laugh more, head back and hair flowing with him. you're addicted to him. you're actually addicted to him.

"come on then, pretty girl. where are we going for drinks?"

you laugh as you walk back towards your car, chris by your side.

"well, do you mind if we take my car back to mine and uber there? the night is ours then"

he comes behind you, hands on your hips, continuing to walk forward.

"sounds perfect."

___ the drive back to yours is filled with laughter. continual yapping about anything and everything, and his rests on your thigh the whole way, only taking it away to sometimes send a few texts to his brothers.

you throw your car keys on the side and show him into your living area, and he smiles as he looks around. you were proud of your house and everything you'd done to achieve it, so to see him enjoy it made you smile.

"do you fancy a drink whilst we wait for an uber?" you say now, walking across to the fridge in the kitchen. you can hear him on your heel.

"what you got?"

you open the fridge and let your eyes scan.

"uhmmmm," you start. but you feel him behind you. his breath on your neck, his fingers brush against yours as he takes the fridge door in his hand too and opens it wider, and suddenly you can't speak. suddenly the tension fills the air.

"beer will do" he says, his voice low.

and you both go to grab a bottle at the same time. he's leaning over your shoulder as your fingers brush the bottle and you both stop. your breathing higher, his breath hotter down your neck.

and then your phone rings, and you almost jump out of your skin.

"fuck" you whisper, and chris chuckles into your ear as he grabs the beer from the fridge, and you feel the heat of him move away from you.

you close your eyes before fishing for your phone in your pocket, and you screw up your face when you see the caller ID. spinning around, chris has perched himself on your kitchen table, and he sees the look on your face.

"everything okay?" he asks, genuine concern lacing his voice, and you smile.

"yeah, its carrington."

you see his smile fade. "oh."

"he never calls."

he raises his beer to you. "answer it, check hes okay."

you smile as you watch him take a sip, before sliding across your phone screen to answer the call. you hear the chatter of people before you even press your phone to your ear.

"babeeeeeee" carrington calls, and you can't help but laugh as a rush of relief washes over you. he's okay.

"hello, carrington" you laugh, and chris raises an eyebrow. you smile at him.

"where the fuck are you?" he shouts. its a quiet bar but you know the amount of people he's going to be surrounded by.

"im at home." you admit, walking back to the fridge and taking out your own beer. you walk over to chris and pass it to him, and he laughs as takes off the lid for you. you mouth a thank you before taking it off of him.

"what?! are you not coming out?"

"erm,"

"oh. fuck." you hear him say. "you're with chris, aren't you?"

"yes." you say, and you can tell chris can hear him on the other end, his eyes are surveying you as he takes another sip from his beer.

“shit.” carrington says “wait, at your house? did i just call you mid FUCK?”

he’s drunk, so drunk, but you laugh.

“no carrington, you did not.”

“oh thank god. put me on speaker” he slurs.

“not a chance.”

chris is eyeing you further. and you give him a sorry smile, and he shrugs. he shrugs.

your mind instantly goes back to the party. you in the pool and him sitting on the edge after you’d been thrown in there, and you instantly remember his words. words you’d forgotten about until now. ‘is there anything going on between you and carrington’. and then you realise the shrug and the eyes, are jealousy. you smirk almost. something about him thinking of you with another guy and being mad about it only makes you find him so much more attractive.

“go onnnnn” carrington pleads in your ear, and then the pull the phone away and press louder speaker.

“you’re on” you say. and chris looks towards your phone.

“CHRIS” carrington shouts, and chris laughs.

“hey, bro” he says as you walk closer to him so he can be closer to the phone. he doesn't look at you once.

"you guys should come here. the whole gangs here and it would be good to see you."

chris looks at you now and you realise in the excitement of the day, you hadn't mentioned the drinks. truthfully, you were going to text tara and tell her you wouldn't be going, as you didn't want the alone time to end with him. you were having fun, and you knew your friends would understand.

but you begin to tell him. "we have drinks at this bar. is usually pretty lowkey but its just a place to catch up properly." you shrug, and chris nods.

"you wanna go?" he asks, the chatter of people around carrington as he awaits for one of you to speak to him.

"we dont have to." you say, and chris studies your face for a second before he leans into the phone.

"we'll get an uber there now, bro." he says, and your eyes widen.

"urgh, thank god. i miss my girl.” carrington speaks.

you close your eyes, hoping chris doesn’t latch onto it, but he laughs as carrinton hangs up. you open up your eyes just in time to see him staring at you, but he looks away quickly. and that look on his face again.

“you know” you say, and he diverts his eyes to you again. “i meant what i said. there’s nothing going on between me and carrington.”

he shrugs. again. that damn shrug. “i know.”

and you look at him for a second, before walking closer to him. you force your legs in between his and he opens up immediately, your hands coming to the nape of his neck again. it takes him a second but that beautiful smile emerges on his face again as he puts his free hand on the back of your thigh, giving it a small squeeze.

“tell your face that then”

and then you kiss him.

TAGLIST : @spencerstits @chrissturnsss @slut4chriss @valkatriee @sturnsjtop @viiiwwwee @gwennysturniolo @melanch0lybby @sturnioloblues @mattstrombolii @sturnsbella @hearteyes4chris @le4hsblog @nervoussagittarius @chrissypook @sarosfilms @somegirlfromasgard @carringtonsgirlfriend @h3arts4harry

4th July - part 4 - chris sturniolo x reader

pt1 pt2 pt3

you smile as you re-enter chris' kitchen, cautious that you may have slightly longer in there that needed whilst blind panckingly texting your best friend, but if chris thinks anything of it he doesn't say. he smiles as he turns around to look at you remerge around the corner to the kitchen at the same he's taking both of your drinks across to the couch. when you follow him, you notice he's already set up your food and blankets, and netflix is already on the tv.

"this is so sweet" you laugh, as you take a seat down on the big couch, a smile escaping your lips at the soft feel. chris places your drinks down on the table and sits beside you, his comforting smell washing over you.

the drive back to his place after getting your food to take out had been intense to say the least. whilst getting your food, chris had insisted he paid, and he had held your hand the entire time whilst you waiting for your number to be called out and your food to be collected. his thumb running circles on your hand as you continued chatting about everything and anything. you asked him about his most recent trips to vegas, he asked you about your upcoming trips, and it felt like you had known him a lifetime whilst still learning so many things about him. his little quirks like when he laughed he screwed up his eyes slightly, the way he tugged at his bottom lip with his free hand sometimes when he was deep listening to you.

but the car ride home had been filled with some sort of energy. your conversation had dimmed almost, but the silence was anything but awkward. you had almost suppressed the speed limit the entire way home and chris was unbuckled and out of the car within seconds of you turning off your ignition when you got back to his house.

"can i use your bathroom?" you had asked when he finally bought you upstairs too his kitchen. and it wasn't really for the want of needing to use it, but more so you could breath and comprehend yourself for a second. you hadn't had sex in fucking ages and you just knew it was coming.

you weren't aware, of course, but chris busying himself with setting up your food and switching on netflix on the tv whilst spreading out some blankets was his way of composing himself too, because he wanted to rip you from the bathroom and not give you a single second to think.

as soon as he sits down, you turn to look at him, but he's already looking at you. you see his adams apple bop up as he takes a swallow before he turns to the tv, picking up the remote from the side of him. you close your eyes in composure for a second before you hear his voice.

"anything in particular you wanna watch?" he asks, clicking onto his profile and waiting for it to load.

"i dont mind" you smile, but you don't move a muscle. he turns around and gives you an eye.

"come on. i wanna learn more about you. whats your type of shit?"

you laugh at his choice of words and finally feel yourself relax. chill. this might not go where you thought it was going to. if only you could tell the sweet burning feeling inbetween your legs that.

"i like a horror" you admit with a shrug, and chris smirks.

"so does nick" he says now, scrolling down to the horror section and picking the first film that comes up. you don't even notice what it is.

"you dont?" you ask, and he laughs, placing the remote down and looking at you again. the time his arm moves to the back of the sofa, his fingers dangerously close to your shoulder.

"they're not my first pick, but for you ..."

and then he looks down at your lips. he notices your breath catch as you look down at his too, and then he leans forward. the arm around the sofa brushing against the back of your neck, fingertips touching your shoulder.

"thats incredible sweet. in a harrowing way." you say, but it comes out a whisper as you lean forward slightly too.

he looks at you up and down, eyes lingering on your legs for a second before his free hand connects with your thigh.

"your burgers getting cold" he says, and then he squeezes. he squeezes your damn fucking thigh.

"im not hungry all of a sudden." you whisper. your face is inches from his now.

"i am." he says, and your face drops. cheeks flushing. theres no way your reading the room wrong? surely? but he smirks, moving his hand from your thigh to your jaw to stop you from moving backwards. "just for something else instead"

he's teasing. you're burning. "oh yeah? what for?"

he pulls your jaw up. "you."

you smile. "better eat up then."

"fuck." he grows, and then his lips are on yours. he's pushing you backwards with the kiss so you're sandwiched in-between the back of the sofa and his body, your hands immediately coming up to his hair as his arm wraps around the back of your neck, hand on your jaw now in your hair. its not comfortable, but you can't pull yourself away from his for a second as you frantically pull at him.

but then he stops, and you're both panting as he pulls away for just a second.

"im not fucking you on the couch" he says.

"i don't mind" you pant, needing the friction between you sorted out immediately, and he groans as he leans in to give you another kiss, but its only short.

"i said i'd be a gentleman and take you to dinner and i bought you back to my damn house, at least let me fuck you in bed."

you laugh, putting your head back as he stands up before he drags you by your arms until you're standing up.

"there will be plenty of opportunity for couch fucks" he mumbles, before dragging you to the stairs.

"who said so?" you ask, practically running behind him as you reach the top of the stairs and he makes the descend to what you assume is his bedroom. when you reach the bottom of the stairs, he spins around to face you.

"oh youre so mine after this" he says, and then his lips are on yours again, only this time he doesnt let go. he spins around, his hands coming to your face and your hands coming to his hips as he starts to push you backwards. you're both stumbling, tripping over each others feet before your back hits his bedroom door.

"ouch, fuck" you mutter. the shock startling you more than it actually hurt.

"shit, sorry" chris says, but his lips are back on yours as he fumbles for the door handle. when he pushes it open, he pushes you backwards still. his bedroom immediately smells of him. his aftershave mixed with just the general smell of boys, but it isn't bad, in fact its quite lovely, but you don't have much time to take notice before you finally reach his bed.

"i promise i'll try to be more romantic next time ,but i fucking need you. like now." he says, and climbs onto the bed on top of you. you chuckle, crawling backwards until your head meets his pillow and then his lips are on yours again, his hands coming to the waist of your shorts as he tugs at them. you raise up, giving him access to pull them off your waist and then you do the rest of the work to get them down past your feet.

he looks down at your body, your black laced thong on full display and a groan escapes him again.

"you're already so wet"

he hasn't even touched you. he can see it.

you would usually feel embarrassed, but something about chris just makes you feel at ease.

"do something about it, please" you whimper, and his head snaps back to yours, a grin on his face.

"oh, so you beg?" he says.

“first and only time, christopher” you say, and you waste no time pulling at the waistband of his sweatpants.

he crashes his lips to yours again and for a second, you’re a tangling panting mass of limbs as he gets you of your panties and you get him out of his sweatpants, and then he stops, looking down at your exposed lower half and you him. he’s already hard, precum on his tip, and he looks you back in the eyes.

“you ready?” he says, and you nod, grabbing hold of his neck to pull him closer to you again.

you feel his hands move to his cock, giving himself a few strokes before you feel him at the top of your entrance, a small gasp escaping your lips before he pushes into you. it takes him no time at all.

he stays still for a second, looking at you, before he starts to pound. you close your eyes, enjoying every second of it as your hands come onto his shoulders. his still got his tshirt on but you can feel his muscles moving as he thrusts harder and deeper into you every time.

“jesus, chris” you whimper, and you open your eyes to see his head bowed. he’s panting, and when he looks back up his eyes are closed in pleasure. you almost cum there and then, but he opens his eyes and a mischievous smile plays on his lips.

“you feel absolutely divine” he says, and then his eyes scan down to your chest.

“can i?” he asks, and you realise immediately what he wants. you nod, and he takes no time to swipe one of his hands up your shirt. a chuckle escaping you when he realises you’re not wearing a bra.

“fuck, pretty girl.”

“i’m gonna cum, chris” you pant as his fingers pinch at your hard nipples.

“look at me” he says, and you do. right in his eyes.

sthen he’s thrusting deeper into you, big hard pounds that make your entire body shake, the headboard of his bed banging onto his bedroom wall and you thank god his brothers aren’t home, because the noises you’re making are insane. you try to hush them, biting down on your lip, and the action alone finishes chris.

“FUCK” he shouts. he actually shouts. and you’re finished too. a huge moan of pleasure escaping your lips.

you stay in place, eyes on each other for the next second, before a laugh escapes the both of you. he moves his hand from your boob and slaps it on the pillow at the side of your best, before slowly pulling out of you. weirdly enough, the sensation feels fantastic. you let out another shudder, and a laugh escapes him before he flops down at the side of you.

“some first date, huh?” he pants, and you laugh. really laugh.

“the best” you say.

you feel him twist around on his side, and you move your head to look at him. he’s smiling at you, his eyes all hazy, his hair a mess, and you melt right into it. your heart feeling full.

“will you stay for a bit?” he asks.

“of course” you say back.

“okay good. cause i actually want to do movies on the couch with you”

you can feel yourself blushing. he sees it too and he smiles and dips down, planting another kiss to your lips.

“you can borrow some sweats if you want?” he says now, twisting around and standing off the bed. you’d be lying if you didn’t say you look straight down at his exposed bottom half. he notices and only smirks. “or we can go for round two?”

you laugh, sitting yourself up finally. “maybe that couch fuck is on the cards” you shrug.

“i fear you’re the woman of my dreams.” he says, laughing as he walks off in the direction of his wardrobe. after a second he throws you some sweatpants and one of his hoodies, and you smile. you didn’t need either. you were perfectly fine with putting on your own clothes again. but something about wearing his clothes after sex just felt so much better.

he excuses himself to the bathroom and you stand up, putting on his sweatpants and laughing as they hang loosely, before taking off your t-shirt and putting on his hoodie. you feel cosy, the clothes wrapping around you like a huge blanket and that slight smell of him wrapped across it. you pick up your discarded shorts from the bottom of the bed and fold them up, grabbing your t-shirt next, before you smirk as you pick up his pillow, the one that clearly is more worn down than the other, and you stick the t-shirt under it. he can find that later when you're back at home.

when he reemerges, he looks down at you and smiles.

"they look good on you" he smiles, and you give him a twirl which makes him laugh.

"come on," he says, walking over and grabbing your hand before he opens the bedroom door. you can hear the movie you'd left playing and can smell the food you had left, and suddenly your stomach growls.

"reckon we could reorder some food?" you say as he pulls you up the stairs, and he laughs.

"absolutely. what do you-"

and then he stops when he reaches the top of the stairs, and you walk straight into the back of him.

"oh, hey" a voice says, and your eves divert to the living room couch, where nick and matt sit, smirks on their faces and they sip from your abandoned drinks from earlier. you look up at chris, who's cheeks have turned crimson, and then you look back at his two brothers, a laugh escaping your lips as you hide your face into chris' arm.

TAGLIST : @spencerstits @chrissturnsss @slut4chriss @valkatriee @sturnsjtop @viiiwwwee @gwennysturniolo @melanch0lybby @sturnioloblues @mattstrombolii @sturnsbella @hearteyes4chris @le4hsblog

mint chocolate rewards [s.h.] 18+

an: hiii i kept getting stuck with this one but am pretty happy with how it turned out!! as much as i love pathetic steve i also looooove cocky steve. hope you enjoy!! feel free to send requests/suggestions or just chat with me :) -m

summary: you’re tutoring steve (there’s not a lot of learning going on) and he’s a smug asshole sometimes. (ft. ice cream, trains, and karaoke)

modern!steve x fem!reader 

warnings: use of y/n, cursing, angst (steve is a little bit of a an asshole), kissing, a tiny bit of phone teasing, dirty talk, fingering, edging, p in v, smidge of daddy kink (used like once or twice and it’s steve referring to himself)  18+ MDNI!!!!!!

wc: 19.3k (oh im a yapper)

masterlist here!!

College has been a fresh start for you, moving away from your small, stuffy town and basking in the change of scenery and people that a new city brought you. 

Boston was busy most of the time, a Friday or Saturday night in downtown made the city feel alive, electrified—but unlike New York, this city did sleep. Once the hustle and bustle of cars and trains stopped, the city shutdown for the night and the streets were quiet and still. Well in some places. 

It was your third year at Boston University and you’d developed a fondness for the city around you. It was a city of passion and that extended to food, history, and especially sports. A passionate place with the people to match it. 

With this new school and new city, you’d also found some new friends. Robin and Eddie, the three of you had found each other during the first week of freshman year and it had kind of just been that way ever since. You’d like to say you were Robin's best friend, but you knew that title was reserved for someone else. 

You didn’t know Steve Harrington, but you certainly knew of him. Hushed whispers and tired rumors always swirled through the air when Steve was around—and even when he wasn’t. 

Despite the reputation he seemed to have, you wondered if there was really any truth to it. Sure, he seemed charismatic and a little full of himself. Yes, he wore a smug smirk that you thought could bewitch just about anyone. But, when you sat on the sidelines and observed him, you noticed the way he tried to make everyone laugh. You’d seen firsthand how he took the time to talk to everyone around him and make sure they felt included in whatever the group was up to. You saw how he treated Robin, and cared for her. And plus, he couldn’t be that bad if she thought so highly of him, if she loved him so much.

So maybe you did know him, at least a little bit. 

But in reality you were a fairly optimistic person, so you kept your theories about Steve to yourself. You tended to look for the good in people, even when there wasn’t much to look at. A glass half full kind of gal. Which is why when you hear about the ladies man, the stereotypical asshole that is Steve Harrington, you keep your mouth shut and don’t add to the conversation at all. 

Even with Steve being Robin’s best friend, the two of you hardly ever overlapped. You’d see him in passing or he’d be coming to see Robin while you were leaving, but that was it. You weren’t sure why this was how it was, especially with how much she yapped about him. But really you think that Steve has his group of people and Robin has hers. The time they spent together was their own and you didn’t have any issues with that. 

And so when your professor pulls you aside after algebra ll, you realize your overlap with Steve Harrington just increased tenfold. 

“Steve is asking for some outside help and we talked about it and decided the group sessions that I do probably aren’t going to be a good fit. I know you’ve picked up some one on one sessions in the past and made you my first stop.” 

Although you don’t want to admit it, your heart beats a little faster at the thought of spending one on one time with Steve. You’re not sure if it’s excitement or dread—maybe a mix of both. 

“I, uh, I can do that. He’s serious about this right? I don’t want to waste my time if he’s not really wanting to learn something.” Okay, so maybe you’d let some of the rumors about him wiggle their way into your brain, but you couldn’t help it! 

“He is. From what I’ve seen he takes his classes seriously, despite what others say about him. I don’t think he’d ask for help just to make a joke out of it.”

She had a point, why would he go out of his way to seek tutoring if he wasn’t serious about it? And if someone needed some help and you could do it, you were going to. 

“Alright, I’m in. You can give him my number and I’ll see about setting something up.” 

———-

Your phone buzzing beside you while you laid in bed that night wasn’t out of the ordinary but it was strange when you looked and didn’t recognize the number on your screen. Until you remembered the conversation you’d had with Professor Benson that morning. And until you scrolled through the messages and saw his name. 

Unknown: Hi! I heard you agreed to be my tutor! Professor B didn’t tell me your name but thank you! 

Unknown: You are a lifesaver. 

Unknown: Oh shit this is Steve Harrington by the way. I forgot to mention that. 

Phone still clutched tightly in your hand, you cursed yourself for feeling nervous. He was being perfectly polite, cute even, and here you were with sweaty palms at the thought of texting him back. But you had to. You agreed to this and you wouldn’t go back on your word over some jitters. 

It only took you writing and rewriting the message about twenty times before you came up with something simple that didn’t make you cringe. 

Y/n: Hi, Steve! You’re welcome, I hope I can be of some help to you. I’m y/n, by the way. Did you have a certain time or place you wanted to meet up for your first session? I’m free most days after 6. 

Steve: Y/n? As in the person Robin has replaced me with? What a small world. 

Y/n: Funny. I don’t think anyone could replace your spot in Robin’s life, but yes that’s me.

A small smile worked its way on your lips as you went back and forth with him, some of the nerves slipping away. 

Steve: Well lucky me, I’ll finally get to spend some time with the girl I’ve heard so much about. But as for the first session, what about the library at 7 tomorrow? The tables in the back? 

You tried not to let the first part of his text affect you so much, but it did. If you were being honest, you didn’t think he even knew about you at all, so the thought that he had was making your pulse speed up. 

Y/n: Sounds perfect. I’ll see you then! 

Y/n: Oh and I’ve heard plenty about you too, all good things. 

Steve: Let’s hope I live up to my name then. See you tomorrow. 

———

Steve was living up to his name, but not the one Robin had given him. 

The day had passed quickly and before you knew it you were here about twenty minutes early with math textbooks and notes surrounding you. Now you wouldn’t fault Steve for not being early, that wouldn’t be fair, but you would fault him for being an hour late. 

Well technically he still hadn’t shown up. 

Ten or fifteen minutes, even half an hour you could brush off. Things happen, you get that. But you had no text, no call, no anything and you felt a steady stream of irritation flowing through you. Your texts had gone unanswered and while the rational part of you was concerned that something had happened, more than anything you were frustrated. 

You texted Robin to see if she knew anything about what was going on and she didn’t. If he wasn’t here by 8:45 you were leaving. That was more than fair and you cursed yourself for even giving him that much leeway. But really you hoped he didn’t show at all because now you were tired and pissed and certainly not in the mood to hear his excuses let alone tutor him. The thought of even speaking about math right now made you want to cry! 

It was a surprise your pencil didn't snap from how tight you were gripping it in your hand, your jaw clenched and the beginning of a headache pulsing behind your eyes. You’d try one more time, send one more text before you were done. 

Y/n: Can you at least let me know you’re alive?

That was fifteen minutes ago and still nothing. Looking down at your phone you see it’s now 8:50 and you push your chair back with a huff, standing up to stuff everything back into your bag, shoulders aching before you even add on the extra weight. 

It’s when you’re sliding in your laptop that you hear it. Panicked footsteps are hurrying toward you and you don’t even have to look up to know who it is. Any exhaustion you had is wiped away and replaced with red hot anger, the tips of your ears burning as you try to remind yourself to breathe. 

“Fuck, I’m here! Shit, I’m sorry but I’m here.”

You ignore him, it’s all you can do right now and honestly you think it’s best for both of you that you don’t speak. You’d been up since 5 am and that wasn’t his fault, but it definitely was his fault that he was showing up 2 hours late and keeping you up when you didn’t have to be. 

Zipping up your bag and grabbing your keys off the table you turn, brushing past him without so much as a glance before you’re heading to the doors of the library. Maybe you’re being a little dramatic but you don’t care. You hear him behind you, cursing under his breath and trying to quietly call your name but you keep going. Past the doors and down the sidewalk and straight ahead with a frown on your face. 

A hand on your arm stops you and you realize you manage to keep a few feet ahead of him for about four blocks. You don’t turn to him, don’t give any acknowledgment of his presence besides the pause of your feet. 

“I’m sorry I was a little late—”

That gets your attention and it’s enough to break the little silent treatment you’ve had going. It’s enough to have you pulling your arm away from his hand despite the warmth it provided as you turn to finally face him. 

“A little? Try two hours, Steve.” 

His nose scrunches and he looks away. You can see the embarrassment in his pinched brows and pouty lips but it does little to dull the frustration that’s been building inside of you since the half hour mark. 

But he’s standing in front of you for the first time and while he’s spewing sorry’s you’re taking him in. His hair is disheveled and his lips are a little swollen, like he or someone else has been biting on them. He’s wearing a lilac t-shirt that looks a little too good on him and jeans that hug him in all the right places. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Time got away from me and I didn’t realize until I was leaving her house that it was so late! I thought I’d given us plenty of time but I guess I…I fucked up.” 

You don’t hear much after “leaving her house”, a new wave of anger washing over you and you have to fist your hands at your side to keep from knocking in his pretty white teeth. 

“Was everyone okay?” Your voice is calm and quiet, a little sprig of hope inside that maybe someone needed his help, something had happened and it was an emergency. You hated yourself a little bit for hoping for something like when in reality you knew the truth. He’d been too busy with a girl to remember you. 

And yes you realize it wasn’t so much you specifically as it was your tutoring session, but that didn’t make it sting any less. You were a girl, a girl who blushed around cute guys and who wanted to hold hands and kiss and go on dates. And so what if it hurt your feelings a little bit that Steve had forgotten you? You could get over that. But what you wouldn’t get over, at least tonight, was that he’d taken advantage of someone wanting to help him and wasted your time. 

“Oh, yeah, everyone’s okay. It was more like a…a date, I guess.” 

“Right. And your phone stopped working?” 

He scratched at the back of his neck with a sheepish look on his face, “I didn’t hear it go off and when I saw all your texts I was already almost here so I just didn’t respond.” Well at least he’s honest. 

“Okay. Maybe you should try out a group session with Professor B before you rule it out completely, you might do well with it.” 

He pulled back, eyes wide and a look of surprise written across features. You get the feeling he’s not used to being told no, even indirectly. “What does that mean?” 

“It means that it’s not fair to me to waste my time. I agreed to this because I wanted to help you but if you couldn’t be bothered to show up on time or even call me to let me know you couldn’t make it, it doesn’t really give me hope that this will be beneficial for either of us.” 

His face hardens the slightest bit and despite the pull you have to be a people pleaser, to say sorry and that it’s okay, you hold strong and straighten your shoulders as he stares down at you. 

“So that’s it? One strike and I’m out?” There’s almost a scoff when he says it, like he can’t believe you and it only adds fuel to the fire burning in your chest. 

“Well you haven’t exactly made a great first impression. If a date is more important than math, that’s fine. I really don’t care. But I won’t clear my nights and sit in libraries alone for someone that doesn’t take this seriously.” You watch him take in your words, furrow between his brows getting deeper the more you talk and you just keep going. “And for the record, I don’t owe you more than one shot. What’s the point of this if you’ll just strike out?” 

“I don’t strike out.” 

A laugh of disbelief flies out of you, hands going up like your surrendering, “Really? That’s all you got out of what I just said?” He shrugged at you and despite his pretty face you felt nothing but contempt for him right now. 

“It was a mistake. I lost track of time. If you think you’re too good to give me a shot to prove that I care, then whatever.” 

“You’re an asshole! Don’t try to-to manipulate me into feeling bad about you doing something shitty. Me setting a boundary with you does not mean I think I’m too good, it means I know my time is worth something and I don’t have to put up with bullshit from people, especially someone I don’t even know!” You can see the regret on his face, the way his features soften and his shoulders slump. “Maybe next time set an alarm or don’t schedule a date on the same day as tutoring. Or maybe let someone know you won’t make it before they sit there waiting for 2 hours to help you out. And maybe if you don’t do any of that, show up and don’t be an asshole when they’re upset about it. Maybe learn that you’re not entitled to people’s time and effort just because you think you deserve it.” 

Finished with your little rant you take a breath, hoping he doesn’t lash out at you because you feel your courage waning and you just want to go home and sleep. 

But all he does is nod at you with dim eyes before he’s turning on his heel and walking in the other direction before you can say anything else. Not that you would, you think you’d gotten it all out when you were standing in the middle of an almost empty street scolding him like a toddler. 

Maybe you’d been wrong in your theories about Steve Harrington. Or maybe you just didn’t fall into the group of people that got to see a different side of him. 

————-

Steve felt like shit. 

He’d lost the nerve to say anything when you tore into him like you did, and he deserved it. It was an asshole move to be 2 fucking hours late and then get upset at you being upset with him. And all for what? A girl he barely knew, who didn’t even like him and called him once every few weeks when she was bored? To be fair he didn’t really like her either, so that made him only feel more shitty. 

You’d told him off, which didn’t happen often and regardless of how pissed off or embarrassed he’d been, it was hard to stay upset when he noticed the cute little twitch your nose would do when you yelled at him. 

And he felt bad because you were Robin’s friend, one of her best friends! He’d been hearing about you for what seemed like forever and now that he was actually going to spend some time with you, he’d blown it. He knew you were a sweetheart, quiet most of the time and always willing to do anything for others. It had been a low blow trying to make you feel bad, he knew that. But he really needed your help here and was willing to do anything to get it. Even if it meant guilting you into it, I guess. 

He was well aware of his reputation around campus, grade A asshole with girls hanging off his arms every weekend. Hell, he played into it most of the time. It was easier to just play into what people expected sometimes, even if that meant being a dick. 

And okay, maybe he was guilty of being kind of cocky sometimes. He could be a little smug but he never meant to come off like too much of a prick. He liked to think it was charming sometimes. 

But right now he was worried about passing algebra and making things right with you. Robin would kill him if he didn’t, and he owed it to you to at least try to be decent. 

That’s how he finds himself here, standing in front of you and Eddie where you’re perched in the shade under a big tree in the center of campus. Before last night he’s never said more than a hello to you and he doesn’t think he’s ever even been this close to Eddie. 

He watches the two of you, the way you lean into Eddie as he walks closer and the way Eddie narrows his eyes like a guard dog who’ll bite if he gets too close. He feels a twinge of something deep in his stomach watching you cling to Eddie and maybe it’s because you’re so pretty or maybe it’s because Robin has built you up in his head to be this angel that he’s kind of enamored with. 

“Can I talk to you?” He’s wearing sunglasses so you can’t see the way his eyes dart around your face and settle on the small pout you're wearing on your glossy, peach colored lips. 

“You didn’t have much to say last night, nothing good at least.” You had one hell of a backbone, he’d give you that. From what he’d heard from Robin you tended to try your best to appease the people around you so a little spark shot up his spine at the thought of you not backing down to him. 

He didn’t miss the way Eddie smirked, looking between your stern eyes and the pleading puppy dog look Steve was wearing. He nudged your shoulder to grab your attention, “Oh hear him out, yeah? It won’t hurt anything.” Steve gave Eddie a quick, grateful nod and turned back just in time to see you rolling your eyes at the both of them. 

“5 minutes, Harrington.” 

Eddie got up, gesturing for Steve to take his place as he grabbed his stuff and sent a reassuring wink your way. Steve thinks with all the friends he has, he doesn’t have any besides Robin that really count. Maybe if he quit being an ass, you and Eddie would be his friends too. 

“First I wanna apologize for being late, and for not calling or texting to let you know. I do care about school and I appreciate you taking the time to try and help me. I’m sorry I took that for granted.” He watches your lips part in what could either be shock or surprise and the small nod you give makes him keep going. “And I’m really sorry for the shitty stuff I said. It was a dick move trying to make you feel guilty when you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m lucky you even agreed to help me in the first place, s’not your job. I guess I’m just…used to getting my way. It sounds shitty to say it out loud but I guess we both know it’s true. I realize you don’t owe me anything and I haven’t done anything to earn a second chance, so I’m sorry. I’m gonna try out a group session and see how that goes, I think. But uh, yeah, I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not going to apologize for anything.” Well, he has to admit that is not what he expected to come out of your mouth. Your shoulders had softened the slightest bit but your eyes were still weary of him. 

“I don’t expect you to, you did nothing wrong. I deserved you telling me off. Hell, I probably needed it. I just wanted you to know I was sorry, you deserved to hear it.” 

When you don’t say anything for a few minutes he takes that as his sign to leave, pushing himself off the ground beside you and dusting off his pants before you stop him with a sigh of his name. 

“Thank you—for the apology. I can tell you mean it and that’s all I wanted. It sounds like you actually heard what I was saying and…and if you want a second shot, you’ve earned one.” 

“Really?” He smiled wide at you, hand grabbing yours that you’d held out and he lifted you up with ease. You nodded at him and he felt relief all over. He didn’t realize he still had your hand in his until you gave him a squeeze and he dropped it, shrugging shyly. 

“Two strikes and you are out, Steve. Don’t make me regret this.” 

He couldn’t help the cocky smirk he flashed, hands going to his hips, staring down and not missing the way your throat bobbed at how close he was. 

“I told you I don't strike out, didn’t I?”

—————

You were very pleasantly surprised by Steve’s apology, kind of shocked by it too. You hadn’t expected much to come out of your little rant, let alone him seeming so genuinely sorry about what had happened. And he seemed to understand what you said, he let it soak in and took accountability for it. 

When he was standing there so sincere and upset, you couldn’t help but to offer him another chance. This was the Steve you thought you’d seen, kind and attentive. You were happy you weren’t totally wrong about him. 

But one thing you did realize was that Steve Harrington was a pest. He got under your skin in the best way possible and lit you on fire in a way that nobody ever had. It’s like he lit a spark in you and you loved every second, even if you pretended like he got on your nerves. 

In the last two weeks you and Steve had gotten together about 4 times, and it was going well! You’d realized within one session with him that he just needed some one on one time with the material. He grasps the concepts much easier when he has someone to walk him through a few problems at his own pace. 

And he’d been on time to every single one, even early to a couple. Today he even showed up before you, the little eager student that he was. 

You noticed the more time you spent together over the last two weeks and the more comfortable Steve became, the more he liked to tease you and watch you flush red under his stare. 

Like now you’re sitting beside him—you had sat down across from him but he pouted like a child and said it would be easier if you were closer—and he’s complaining about the quadratic formula for the millionth time. 

“We’re almost done, Steve. Two more problems and you’re free to go.” 

“I think I should get a reward for all this.” He would probably stomp his foot at you if he was standing up and you can’t help but huff a small laugh at the little frown he’s wearing, chin in his hand and shoulders slumped in annoyance. 

“You do. You’ll pass the class.”

He’s not amused by this, rolling his eyes and pinching the bare skin of your thigh where your shorts have moved from you shifting in your chair. You watch the spot turn pink and his touch, even something so quick and simple, has you buzzing. 

“Lame. I was thinking more of a kiss, let me have a quick taste of those pretty lips.” No matter how many times he mentions your mouth or how’d you taste it never fails to thrill you, your face heating and your eyes darting everywhere but his. 

It’s even worse when you watch the way he watches you, leaned back in his chair with his thighs spread and a smug look on his face. He’ll flash his teeth at you in a smile and send a quick wink that has you having to stop yourself from sinking between his open legs. He knows what he does to you and he loves it, soaks it up and never gets tired of it. 

You’ve turned back to your own notes, leaving Steve to work on the last few problems and of course he does anything but. It’s only been a few minutes when you feel something brush across your hair, you ignore it. A few seconds later something soft hits your cheek, and you ignore it. But when it hits your forehead you turn to him with a scowl, a little ball of paper between his fingers. 

“You are a child.” You swat at his chest and regret it when he catches your wrist in his hand, skin turning hot under his touch. You can’t look away from where his fingers wrap around you and it makes you dizzy to feel his rough hands against your skin. 

“Hit me again, baby.” 

That was another thing that had started, the pet names. He used your name sometimes, but called you baby, sweetheart, or doll when he wanted to make you stutter your words and stumble through your sentences. 

He’s smirking at you, eyes light and filled with amusement at the way your neck is turning a bright pink, reaching and reaching until your ears are burning. “C’mon, please?” 

“No reward for you if you don’t finish those problems.” Despite the turmoil going on inside your voice sounds cool, unaffected, and you thank god for that. 

“Fine. I can be a good boy when I want to be.” 

Ignoring him, you turn back to your notes, far too distracted to actually pay attention to them anymore but you still stare at the paper in front of you. You’re pleasantly surprised when he actually goes back to his work, finishing the problems quickly and you beam at him when they’re all right. 

“See! I told you, just need to take your time with this stuff. I’m proud of you, Steve.” For once he’s the one blushing, brushing it off like it’s nothing and asking for his reward. You should have known, a child never forgets a promise you make them. 

Leaning forward his eyes widen, darting over your face to check if this is really happening. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, not used to playing his games with him and it takes all the courage you have to let your lips brush over the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, before they find the shell of his ear. He’s still beside you, anticipating your next move and if you weren’t so hell bent on teasing him back, you’d kiss him right now. 

Your lips graze him and it’s your turn to smirk when his grip on the table in front of you tightens. His knuckles are white and his jaw is set with you so close to him. 

“Ice cream. That’s your reward.” 

Pulling back quickly so you can see his reaction, you beam at the way his lips are parted and his chest is heaving a little harder than it should be. He just watches you with wide eyes before something settles over him. Something that makes your stomach flutter and tells you you’ve started something that you won’t win. 

When he speaks you can’t help but watch the way his mouth wraps around the words so sensually you feel it all over, like he’s touching every inch of your skin and it’s addicting. 

“Perfect. M’dying for something sweet.” 

———-

He can’t stop thinking about the feeling of your lips on his skin, even if it lasted all of three seconds it’s running through his mind on a loop and making his head a mess. 

God he wishes you would have just bit down on him, sunk your teeth into his skin and let him feel your tongue soothe the burn. 

You’re walking side by side to your favorite ice cream place now, the sun is out and bright but despite that there’s a nice breeze that cools his skin. You would have already been there but he had to spend fifteen minutes distracting you from leaving just so he could stand up without getting arrested for indecent exposure. 

Remembering the small smile of victory you had makes him smile, but not as big as he’ll be smiling when he gets you back. He loves watching you preen under his touch, loves the way your chest rises and falls a little faster when he leans in towards you and loves even more the way your eyes go all big and round and your cheeks turn bright red when he says something cheeky. 

Spending some time with you over the last two weeks, it’s obvious to him why Robin is so obsessed with you. You’re hilarious, sometimes you make him laugh so hard his stomach hurts and he has tears in his eyes. He’d known you were a sweetheart but getting to see it firsthand gave him a goddamn toothache. Watching the way you smile at him so proudly when something finally clicks, how you listen to someone with such intent, no matter what they’re talking about. You’re just so kind and good that he wants to be as close to you as possible at all times. 

But this is the first time you two are venturing outside of the library together and he thinks he’ll spend much more time convincing you to do things with him besides math. Now that he’s got a taste he needs more, craves it. 

He doesn’t even notice you’ve arrived until you’re tugging on the sleeve of his shirt and giving him a smile as sweet as honey as you wordlessly point at the ice cream shop he’d just walked past.

Pulling open the door he lets you go first and looks around to see only a few people besides them in the shop. Perfect. 

Since there’s no line, you both go quickly. You opt for chocolate chip cookie dough in a cup and he decides on mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone. He notices the way your nose scrunches all cute at his choice and he rolls his eyes as he pulls out his card to pay before you can. 

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who’s gonna say it tastes like toothpaste or something.” Your jaw drops in offense and he has to roll his lips into his mouth to keep from laughing at how cute you are. 

“I wasn’t! I only made that face because I almost got it myself.” 

“And the thought of having a similar taste to me is making you feel sick?” 

“No, just didn’t peg you as a mint chocolate chip guy.” 

“So you’ve been thinking about pegging me.” He knows you’ve realized what you’ve done before the words even leave his mouth and he smirks at you anyways. He’ll take any chance to get you all flustered and riled up. 

“Pay for my damn ice cream, Harrington.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just quietly snickers to himself while you go and find a place to sit. He notices the way you choose a seat in the corner, far away from anyone else in the shop and he smiles. You probably know what’s coming, waiting for the other shoe to drop after your little stunt at the library and he loves seeing you all worked up and on edge. 

He likes it a little too much. 

Instead of sitting in the seat across from you he slips in the booth beside you instead, watching your eyes dart to the side to watch him carefully. He’s not sure why you’re surprised, he always takes any opportunity to be close to you. 

Slinging an arm around your shoulder he lets his fingertips toy with your hair, smiling when he feels you relax into him. “Can I have a bite?” You seem to not think anything of his request, lifting your spoon up to his mouth and he lets you slip it between his lips, your eyes trained on his mouth and his on you. 

He hums around the spoon and lets his teeth catch when you drag it from his mouth. You shake your head at him, leaning slightly against his chest and enjoying the quiet between you too. 

It’s go time. 

“Wanna bite?” He’s looking down at you and you nod sheepishly, leaning forward to meet him halfway when he moves his cone towards your mouth. Right when he reaches your lips he moves the cone an inch over and touches the ice cream against the corner of your mouth. 

Before you can reach for a napkin he grabs your wrist, smiling all innocent when you look at him with confusion in your eyes. “I got it, don’t worry.” 

And when he leans forward and moves his head down to be eye level with you, he smirks at the hitch in your breath when he leans forward and lets his tongue swipe over the sweetness there, his tongue catching the corner of your mouth. 

The spoon clatters on the table between you and he hasn’t moved, face just inches away from yours and his hand isn’t playing with your hair anymore, it’s gripping the back of the booth so tight it hurts. 

“Steve..” A breathless little plea leaves your now clean mouth and it takes everything in him not to go in for another taste. He pulls back just enough to watch your eyes flutter close and your head fall back to lay against his arm that’s still behind you. There’s a shine on your cheek from his spit and he’s so hard he can feel his heartbeat all through his body. 

Despite the cockiness running through him at the way you’ve melted, his voice is quiet and breathless just like yours when he speaks where only you can hear him. “What? Just cleaning you up, messy girl.” 

He feels something cold on his hand and looks down to see his ice cream melting, spilling over the cone and running down his fingers. When he looks back he sees you staring at them too, a look in your eyes that has him reeling. 

If there wasn’t anyone else here he’d have you lick his fingers clean, he can see the way you’re itching to do it.

But there’s more people coming into the shop and he’s seconds away from dragging you into the bathroom so he needs to get you out of here, get into the fresh air and out of the little bubble you’ve created. 

“You ready, Stevie?” He loves when you call him that, it makes his chest feel all warm and he just wants to nuzzle into you when you say it. He must have been staring at you, too busy thinking about how bad he wanted you to do anything else. 

He nods, sliding out of the booth and holding out his now clean hand to you, body buzzing when you take it and he feels your skin against his. You walk out and into the street and the breeze on his skin is a life saver. 

Your apartment is just two blocks away from the ice cream shop and the walk there is quiet, both of you thinking about his tongue so close to your mouth. His hand brushes yours as you walk and he feels his fingers twitch with the need to slip your hands together. 

“Good reward then?” It’s you that breaks the silence and he’s grateful, his heart racing in his chest despite the smug smirk he’s wearing looking down at you. 

“Oh baby, the best.”

—————

You and Steve spend about four days a week together at this point and you’re not convinced he even needs that much tutoring but you don’t complain. You’ll take any chance to spend some time with him. 

The two of you have also decided to forgo the library, taking turns having it at his place or yours and most times you work on actual school stuff for about half an hour before he’s distracting you with a movie or a game or a promise of food. 

It’s been a few weeks since that day at the ice cream shop, where he licked the corner of your mouth and sent you spiraling. Having him that close was overwhelming enough, let alone feeling him on your skin. 

Since then things haven’t changed much, he teases you and sometimes you retaliate but oftentimes you just sit there red faced and let him enjoy how flustered he makes you. He’s still touchy and smug all the time, but hasn’t put his tongue anywhere near you since. Unfortunately. 

Tonight you’re both at your place, you lying out across your couch in a t-shirt and pajama shorts that really don’t fit you anymore but you refuse to get rid of. Steve is on the floor in front of you stretched out and scrolling through his phone while you switch between watching the tv and watching him. 

He’s been less like himself tonight, quiet and there's a little furrow between his brows that has you worried. By this point he’d usually be wrapped around you, playing with your hair or rubbing at your neck. But he’d barely touched you today, barely teased you and you wondered what had happened between yesterday and today that had him so out of sorts. 

Regardless of his mood, he takes time to admire the way your ass peaks out of the bottom of those shorts, his jaw clenching when he gets a peak at the smooth skin there. He can spot where your ass meets your thigh and he wants to bury his face there. 

You're pulled from your thoughts when he sits up, sitting his phone on the edge of the couch beside you and using your thigh to hoist himself off the ground. “Be right back, honey.” 

You just nod, stretching out your legs and trying to memorize how the heat of his palm felt gripping your skin. He goes to the bathroom, the click of the lock sounding out at the same time his phone lights up beside you. 

You don’t mean to look. Really, you planned to call out to him and go back to the shitty reality tv show that was playing in front of you but when you see a name you recognize you can’t help but to look. 

And you immediately regret it. 

Brooke: Are you still coming over tonight? It’s been over a month, I miss you. 

The blood drains from your body and you feel a pit so deep in your stomach you think you might be sick. You know Brooke, everyone knows Brooke. And you don’t keep up with that Steve does but he’s spent most of his time with you for the last month, so you can’t help but wonder if the last time he saw her was the day of his first tutoring session. 

And that should make you feel a little better, should dull the raging jealousy coursing through you but it doesn’t. It doesn’t because from her text, he’s already made plans to go over. Maybe this is why he’s being so weird tonight, he’s ready to go see…her. And then you’re even more upset because it was your idea to hang out tonight and you wish he would have just said no because then you wouldn’t have seen this text and you wouldn’t feel like you’re about to cry. 

You and Steve weren’t together, hadn’t even gone on a date or kissed or been anything more than friends. But that doesn’t mean you haven’t developed this huge crush on him that’s taken over every part of your brain. And the teasing, the touches, they meant something to you. 

Maybe that was your mistake. 

Maybe he’s that way with everyone and you read too much into it. Maybe you’ve spent so much time together because he actually did need that much help with fucking algebra and stuck around because he felt like he owed you or something. 

In a matter of seconds your whole friendship was Steve was up in the air in front of you and you found yourself dissecting every interaction and graze of skin and now you just wanted to curl up into your bed and forget all of it. 

You liked him, a lot more than you would care to admit and for the first time since that first night, you felt uncomfortable being in the same place as him. 

The click of the bathroom lock snaps you from your spiral and you pull yourself off the couch, gathering up trash from the snacks you’d eaten so you don’t have to look him in the eye. And you shouldn’t say anything, should pretend it didn’t happen and figure this out later but you can’t help but let the words slip out when he walks back into your living room. 

“Got a text while you were in the bathroom.” He doesn’t say anything but doesn’t really have the chance because you’re rushing into the kitchen and deciding that now is the best time to do those dishes you meant to do before he came over. 

Hopefully he’ll just…go. You know he won’t but maybe that would be easier if you didn’t have to see him again tonight or smell him or touch him. The water is hot, too hot to be sticking your hands under but scrubbing at this plate is all that’s keeping the tears that are building from falling down your cheeks. 

“Y/n…” He’s behind you now, close enough that you can feel his presence and you know if you just took one step back you’d be pressed up against his chest, you’d feel the warmth that always comes from him. So you stay where you are, the edge of the sink digging into your stomach but you try and scoot closer to it anyways. 

A noncommittal hum is all he gets from you. You don’t move your head to look at him, you can’t because if you do you’re not sure you won’t cry. And you can’t let him see you cry over something that was never there. 

“Can you look at me? Please?” His voice is low and sweet, a hint of a plea in his tone that makes your insides twist painfully. You just shake your head, scrubbing at this plate so hard you’re worried it might snap in your grip. 

His hand is on your shoulder now and a shaky breath escapes your lips, the tears building behind your eyes and you will them away. There's nothing to cry over. He’s your friend. That’s all. “If you need to leave, that’s fine. Seriously it’s—you can go if you want.” Your voice cracks the slightest bit, but he notices. Of course he does. 

“Sweetheart, look at me.” 

Your chest hurts at the endearment and you squeeze your eyes shut tight because you know he’s wearing that puppy dog look he does so well. You know his eyes are round and full of concern, or even worse, pity. You know his bottom lip is jutting out in a pout and it makes you want to take the plate you’ve scrubbed clean and smash it into a million pieces. 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Steve, it’s that he won’t give in. He’ll stand behind you all night, miss his date with Brooke if that’s what it takes. He won’t give up until you’re looking at him, but you don’t know why. Don’t know why he wants to see you upset. But you turn around anyways, cheeks blotchy and a sheen of tears ready to fall at any given moment. 

His lips part softly and his hands are hovering between you, not sure if he should reach over and touch you. “It’s not—she’s not…I don’t want to leave.” 

“Okay.” 

“I don’t know why I even made the plans in the first place! I’d rather be here with you anyways.” 

“Okay.” 

He’s pacing in front of you now, hands fisted in his hair and he looks like he’s freaking out, chewing on his bottom lip and mumbling under his breath while you just stand there and stare at your feet on the floor. 

“I’ve just been…my mind has been fucked lately and I don’t know what I even think anymore and I do stupid shit when I don’t know what do to.” 

“Okay, Steve.” 

“Are you just gonna keep saying okay?” He’s stopped pacing, the stare he’s wearing keeps you still in place against the sink and you feel like shrinking under his gaze. 

“What do you want me to say? If you want to go hang out with her, you can! You’re an adult, Steve. You don’t have to spend all your time with me.” 

“But I want to.” Heart thudding hard in your chest you try to make sense of what he’s saying, what he’s not saying. He’s giving you something, dancing around what he wants to say and you won’t give yourself false hope, won’t read too far into this. You’ve become friends, best friends even and you don’t want to fuck that up. 

“Then stay.” 

You should talk about this, you know it and he knows it. You should get everything out in the open so there’s no more secret plans and unshed tears but you don’t. Instead he nods at you, coming closer and wrapping his arms around you so you’re nuzzled against his chest. Neither of you say anything, just sit there wrapped up in each other for who knows how long before he pulls back and tugs you to the living room, sitting down and pulling you into his side with no words spoken between you. 

The show drones on around you, but you’re not paying attention. Your mind is too busy, too many thoughts swirling around to even try and focus on anything but him. He sinks down further into the couch and you move with him, your head resting against his chest and his hand lying still on your hip. 

“M’sorry I made you sad. Never want to do that, you’re too pretty to cry over me, too sweet.” 

You just nod against him, closing your eyes and feeling the thump of his chest on your cheek. He doesn’t say anything else and you’re grateful. 

————-

It’s been almost a week since that night in your apartment. A week since Steve got that text and you almost lost your shit. A week since you realized how deep your feelings for him actually ran. 

When you had woken up that next day Steve was still there, hand still on your hip with his head thrown back in what couldn’t be comfortable as he slept beside you. He woke up soon after and both of you just…pretended it hadn’t happened. The last week had been normal, so normal you’d convinced yourself that night was some sort of glitch. 

Steve continued to spend most of his days with you, continued to flash those smug grins your way when he sees something inappropriate and you continue to flush under his stare, preen under his praise and stick to his side like glue. 

That’s how you are now, sprawled under that same big tree Steve had come to apologize to you under all those weeks ago. He’s sitting up with his legs stretched out in front of him and your head is on his lap, Eddie beside you hunched over and working on something you can’t see, Robin beside Steve with a book she’s not reading in her hand. 

He’d also been spending more time with the three of you and it made your heart warm. All your favorite people getting along and hanging out.

“We should all go to Lansdowne this weekend.” That suggestion couldn’t have come from anyone but Steve. Eddie scrunches his nose at the thought immediately, tongue sticking out like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Robin groans like she’s physically pained by the thought. 

“Now don’t sound too excited.” Lansdowne was a little pub near Fenway Park that Steve was obsessed with. They usually had live music and were packed to the brim with bodies every weekend. Robin and Eddie despised it, always too crowded for their liking. 

“I’ll go, Steve. But you’re buying my first drink.” 

“That’s my girl!” He patted your head like you were a puppy, grin wide as he turned to stick out his tongue at Eddie and Robin who just rolled their eyes dramatically and went back to ignoring whatever Steve would ramble on about next. 

Neither of you noticed the way Eddie and Robin watched you, knowing smiles on both their faces as they took the sight of you two in. They watched Steve brush your hair out of your face, a look of fondness on his face that Robin hasn’t seen him show anyone before. They watch you snuggle into him, content and comfort written all over your features. 

————-

There was a small bit of regret about quickly agreeing to go out with Steve. Friday came before you knew it and you were tired, so tired from a long week of school and work. It seemed like everything that could have gone wrong this week, did and it had you mentally and physically drained. 

The temptation to text Steve and bail was clawing at you, but you couldn’t. Usually spending time with him was something that made you feel better, so you hoped that was the case tonight. 

It was nice out, not too hot but just warm enough to indulge in summer clothes. Dressing up for tonight was out of the question, you needed to be comfy if you were going to be squished against sweaty bodies and pulled through big crowds. 

That was how you found yourself now, tucked into Steve’s side at the bar at 11pm with a short denim skirt snug around your hips that you’d found in the back of your drawer and a cropped pink t-shirt that molded to your chest. A few inches of skin showed above your skirt and the feel of Steve’s palm resting there had you blushing already. 

You were both three drinks in, a nice buzz in your veins that had you giggling into his chest without embarrassment. When you’d seen him tonight, you knew you were going to need some liquid reinforcements to survive. He’d been wearing a dark green button up that he left undone, tight white tank top underneath that showed the outline of his chest. A pair of light wash denim jeans cinched around his waist with a belt. 

There might have been an audible gulp at the sight of him, but with three dirty shirley’s pumping through you, you eyed him up without care, taking in every inch of him with a palpable hunger. 

His breath is hot against your skin when he leans down to try and whisper in your ear, but ends up talking much louder than he meant to. “Forgot to mention it’s karaoke night.” 

“I am not participating in that.” 

That little frown he does when he doesn’t get his way pops up, lips pouted at you like you’d stolen his candy. “Why not?” 

“Between the two of us you’re the rockstar, Harrington, not me.” 

Before he could open his mouth to argue, someone called his name from across the bar, a man holding a clipboard that looked less than impressed with his job. Somehow in the short time you’d been here Steve had gotten his name down on the list for karaoke without you knowing, and it was his turn now. 

He gave you a quick wink that had you almost melting before him, a small smirk as he squeezed your shoulder and started to push his way through the crowds of people. “Eyes on me, baby.” 

Liked you’d be able to look anywhere else. 

You watch him hop up on the small stage that’s only a few feet tall, no hint of nervousness on his face as he smiles at the small crowd that’s paying attention to him. There’s lights focused on him and you think he was made to be in the spotlight with how good he looks up there. You’re somewhere in the middle of the crowd but he spots you easily, winking before he strips off his button down, tossing it to the side of him. 

The sight of him up there with his tank top tucked nicely into his jeans does little to help with the fuzziness you were already feeling from the drinks. You’re careful not to drool at his arms on display, bulging slightly when he lifts them to grip his hands around the mic. 

“Hello, Boston!” 

You’d think this was his personal show the way the crowd cheered back at him, encouraging what you know was nothing but mischievous behavior. He’s getting the attention of more of the bar the longer he stands up there and you can’t blame them, he’s a sight to see. 

“You all look beautiful tonight!” 

A laugh bubbles out of you when the beginning notes of Mr. Brightside by the Killers boom from the speakers behind him, not sure why you expected anything else from him. 

He’s practically bouncing on his heels as he sings the first few notes—and so is his hair. But your laughter and amusement is quickly replaced by something fiery and strong that builds in your stomach as you watch him. 

His hands are wrapped around the microphone in front of him, eyes screwed shut when he gets to the chorus and you feel like you’re on fire. During a pause his head is thrown back, throat bobbing for everyone to see and you try to trace the beads of sweat running down his throat from your spot in the middle of the bar. 

When he starts singing again—and fuck he’s good—his eyes are open and on yours, coming so close to the microphone you can see the way his lips pucker against it on certain notes and you’re thankful it’s so packed in here, the people around you keeping you from falling to the ground. 

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis

But it's just the price I pay, destiny is calling me

Open up my eager eyes, 'cause I'm Mr. Brightside

About seven feet are between you but with the bright lights shining on him you watch in awe as his raspberry lips wrap around the words and his tongue swipes out and darts across them every few seconds. He looks ethereal on that stage, hair slicked back from running his fingers through it and hips rocking side to side in time with the beat. 

His voice is pure silk and honey, like he was born to sing this song and it has your heart racing so fast in your chest it’s hard to catch your breath. He’s jumping around, putting on a noteworthy performance while the patrons around you yell and dance with him. 

Every once in a while his nose bumps against the mic and you can’t get over how alluring he looks with his lips grazing the mic. He’s captivating, stealing the attention of almost everyone in the room now and your heart swells in your chest. 

It takes you a second longer to realize the song has ended, cheers and hollering making your ears ring as he basks in the attention on stage. You can see that cocky smirk from here, his eyes dark and cheeks red as he blows you a kiss when he catches your eyes again. 

Maybe you could use another drink after all. 

 —————

Steve was sweaty from karaoke, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck, button up he’d been wearing thrown somewhere and he was sure he’d never see it again. The tank top he wore was clinging to his skin and he wished he could peel it off, the stickiness in the air of the bar doing nothing to cool him down. 

But he saw the way you watched him up there, your eyes trained on his mouth or his hands the whole time and it made him feel electric. The way you licked your lips like he was your next meal could have him on his knees for you in an instant. 

He’d lost you when he got off the small stage, eyes searching through the crowd and sighing in relief when he finds you standing by the bar, chin in your palm as you swirl your drink around. 

That relief is short-lived when he sees some douche come up beside you, a charming grin plastered on his face and his eyes dark as he takes you in. Steve sees red when he places one of his hands on your waist, his palm touching your bare skin since you’d chosen a crop top for tonight. 

Possessiveness stirs in his belly, hands fisted at his side at the laugh you give him. It’s fake, he can tell, but it still makes his jaw clench uncomfortably. 

You’re not interested in this guy, he can see that. You’ve leaned back enough to create some space between the two of you and your eyes dart around the bar quickly and he knows you’re looking for him. 

Little did you know that even if you weren’t looking for him, he’d still be there. He’d always be there. Couldn’t keep himself away from you even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He’d become addicted to your strawberry scent and your sweet little giggles. He’d become addicted to you. 

It’s when this asshole lifts his hand to brush a piece of your hair away from your face that Steve starts to move, shoulders shoving through the crowd with ease and he sees the way your body relaxes when you catch sight of him heading towards you. 

The thought of someone else touching your skin, feeling how smooth it is and how it warms up under their touch has him gritting his teeth. His jaw twitches thinking about you looking up at someone besides him with stars in your eyes. 

When he’s within reach he lays his hand on your exposed thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh there and placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Told ya I’d be right back, doll.” He doesn’t acknowledge the man beside him, eyes focused on yours. 

Your thighs clamp shut around his hand and a devious smirk plays on his lips at the feeling. “Who’s this?” He cocks his head towards the man that had been trying to talk to you, not looking his way but finally acknowledging his presence. Douchebag is still there, watching the scene unfold in front of him with little amusement. 

“I-I don’t know. We were just talking.” Steve hums at you, eyes drinking in the little drops of sweat rolling down your neck and down your shirt. He’s itching to lean forward and collect them on his tongue, to taste any part of you he can get his hands on. 

You yelp when his fingers pinch at your inner thigh, hands coming up to grip his forearm in surprise. He doesn’t miss the way your hips shifted forward though, searching for his touch instinctively. 

“Don’t want these boys talking to you, do you?” He’s leaning closer to you but still talking loud enough that the prick who can’t take a hint can hear him. You shake your head quickly and he smiles. “It’s because you’re my girl, isn't it baby? Want them to know you’re mine to take home, mine to play with, mine to keep.” 

At this point he’s not even talking for the benefit of saving you from some creep in a bar, you both know that. He’s not just staking his claim so they’ll leave you alone, he’s telling you the truth, what you both already know but refuse to talk about. He’s yours as much as you are his. It’s been that way for weeks. 

For him it’s been that way since you ripped him a new one, tore into him for being an asshole with your big round eyes that twitched in anger at his attitude. 

You’re nodding at him with blown out eyes, thighs still keeping his hand trapped between them. The guy you’d been talking to is long gone but neither of you seem to notice or care. 

“So say it.” His lips are tilted in a smirk, knowing eyes watching you shift and squirm under his stare. He feels himself thickening in his pants, head of his cock pressed up against the zipper painfully but he doesn’t care. He’d stand here in pain all night if you kept looking at him like that. 

“I’m your girl.” 

His chest swells with pride, grinning down at you and watching you just eat up the unsaid praise. You’re blooming under his gaze, chest puffing out the slightest bit and his mouth waters. 

It’s hard to breathe when you’re looking at him like that. His stomach feels tight and a feeling he can’t quite describe takes over. He wants to feel your skin on his, to taste you, smell you, anything you’ll give him. But he also feels like he could be sick, just looking at you being too much for him right now. 

He uses his thumb to tap on your thigh so you’ll open them for him, pulling his hand out and tugging on your wrist to pull you back to the middle of the dance floor. Your obedience thrills him, makes his spine tingle and heart race. He should’ve known you were a good girl, the best one really. You don’t even question him as he grips your hips in his hand, pulling you flush against him while the music booms around you. 

Neither of you are really moving, just standing there pressed together while bodies push and move around you. One hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer so that he can lean down and talk in your ear where you’ll hear him. 

“Saw the way you were watching me up on the stage earlier.” 

Your hands are clinging to his shirt and he feels your grip tighten, smiling knowingly against your ear. He loved the way you watched him, the way your eyes never left him like you were mesmerized. 

“You looked good up there, like a natural.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Hmm, my rockstar.” 

The praise shoots down his spine and makes his body buzz. He’s watching the way your hair flows over your shoulder and he wants to tug on it, make your head fall back and expose your throat to him. 

You pressed against him mixed with the sticky air surrounding you is too much, his head feels fuzzy and he’s seconds away from biting on your lips and licking into your mouth. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

———————

In hindsight, deciding to take the train at 1 am on a Friday night was a stupid idea. Anyone and everyone in the city chose that time to pile on. For a second you’re worried you’ll lose Steve in the crowd of people but a few seconds later you feel his fingers slip through yours and tug you to his side. 

“Can’t risk losing my precious cargo.” 

The ringing in your ears is either from the feel of his skin touching yours or the tell tale screech of the train approaching. When it pulls up in front of you, your cringe at how crowded it already is, forehead covered in a sheen of sweat before you even step on. The doors open and Steve is pulling you through the bunches of people, tugging you through and moving you to stand in front him when he sees an opening. 

Your back is pressed against the opposing doors and you sigh in relief at the coolness it provides. That relief is short lived when you peek over Steve’s shoulder to see more people piling on. He presses closer to you to make room and your heart thuds harshly against your chest. 

His feet are spread slightly to be on either side of yours, arms over your head to hold on to the railing and it feels like he’s caging you in. He’s pressed up against you completely, your chin touching his chest and lips hover near your forehead. 

It doesn’t help that his arms are on full display, button up he was wearing long gone since before karaoke and instead adorned in a white tank top that’s like a second skin. It’s hugging his chest and waist and it’s taking everything in you not to lean forward and nip at his arm. 

And then you’re thinking about how he looked on stage. Pure sex as he captivated the crowd with his effortless charm and talent. You think you could watch him like that forever. 

Fuck. All you could feel was him, his breath on your skin and his body keeping yours snug against the doors. You’re not sure you could even move, not that you wanted to. Tilting your head back an inch you look up at him, eyes glancing over his strawberry mouth that’s tilted into a smirk, looking up further to see how he’s watching you closely. 

Honey eyes staring into yours scream mischief and when you breathe in you feel your knees falter, a sweetness washing over your senses. Just the smell of him was enough to have your skin tingling, hints of cherry and vanilla from where you were practically nuzzled against his throat. 

Your hand was wrapped tightly against the pole in front of you and the feel of the cool metal against your palm did little to help with the heat you felt burning through your chest. The train lurched forward and the hand that was dangling by your side shot out to fist at the fabric of Steve’s shirt. The fucking white tank top he was wearing. 

“Eager, are we?” His tone was teasing and when you took a quick glance down to see a sliver of his stomach showing where you had his shirt tight in your grasp, your thighs squeezed together involuntarily. 

“Oh please.You just happened to be the closest thing to me, Harrington.” 

He feigned offense, knowing smirk never leaving his face and you stifled a groan when you felt his stomach twitch against your hand. You thought that if you had to be pressed against him for much longer you might just pass out. 

When you look up to see you still have a few stops before yours, you release your grip on his shirt and try not to notice the disappointment that floods through you when your hold on him is gone. He seems to notice too, eyebrows furrowing for a split second before his expression goes back and he’s smiling down at you again. 

“Ya know,” He tilts his head to the side like he’s wondering about something important but his expression holds nothing good. “You look good like this, pressed up against me all flushed and pretty.” 

Arousal seeps down your spine and curls around your belly like a boa constrictor, your throat all of a sudden dry and you can’t seem to do anything but blink up at him. 

“Going dumb already? You really are precious cargo.” 

You have about an ounce of self control left and that’s what keeps you from letting a whimper slip into the sticky air between you. You know he can read your emotions on your face but you try and school your features anyways, lifting your leg that’s trapped between his and pressing your weight down on his foot. 

It just makes his sickly sweet smile even bigger and your breath hitches when he leans down to press his lips against the shell of your ear. You dig your fingertips into your palm when he lets his tongue swipe against his bottom lip and it catches your skin as it does. 

“Trying to hurt me, baby? Why don’t you bite me next? Pretty please?” He brings his hand up between you as he talks, uses his thumb to swipe at your bottom lip and if you weren’t on the fucking train you’d part your lips for him and take his thumb into your mouth. You think you want that a little too much to be so close to him right now. 

For the first time since you’ve moved here, the train is your saving grace. The doors pull open and the cool air of the night hits you, breaking you from whatever little trance Steve had put you under. It clears out enough that he can step to your side now, giving you some much needed space to try and get yourself together. 

The chatter around you has died down and while you feel marginally more in control of yourself, the smell of Steve and the feel of his arm brushing against yours beside you is enough to keep you on your toes. 

“Cooling down over there?” 

“Yes actually, no thanks to you.” 

He shrugs his shoulders innocently and if he hadn’t just been whispering in your ear about liking the pain then you might actually believe the sweet look he was wearing on his face. “Oops.” 

The next stop is yours and while you’re trying to figure out if Steve is coming with you or if you’re gonna have to figure out some weird goodbye, he’s already five steps ahead. When the train comes to a stop and the doors open he’s grabbing your hand again and pulling you out of the train and into the breeze that cools the sweat on your neck. 

“M’gonna walk you home, okay?” You nod wordlessly, letting your hands swing gently between you as you make your way through the now quiet streets. Everyone is either deep into the city until the bars close or already tucked away in their beds after a long work week. Few people litter the streets but you don’t hear much besides the buzz of the train pulling away and the soft hum coming from the person beside you. 

It doesn’t take long before you reach your building nestled in between two others that look just like it and while you fumble through your bag for your keys you feel his gaze burning into the side of your face. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the bar.” 

A noncommittal hum is all you give him and he’s not a fan of that, reaching forward and plucking your apartment key from between your fingers before you even register what’s happening. You reach out automatically but he’s pulling back and out of your reach. 

“Why?” 

“Why what?” You know what he’s asking and you’re just making this harder for the both of you but he’s had you so on edge since he got on stage and was all…rockstar and sex that you’re scared about what might come out of your mouth if you’re not careful. 

“Why have you been so quiet since we left the bar?” 

“Not much to say I guess…”

“Bullshit.” 

You blink at him owlishly, lips parted in surprise but you can’t deny the little tingle that starts at your toes and makes its way up your body at him calling you out. “Excuse me?” Your voice sounds pathetic and breathless to your own ears at this point so you can only imagine how you look to Steve right now. 

“I call bullshit. Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you blush every time you make eye contact or you look at my arms,” Fuck he caught you. “Or the way you clench those pretty thighs everytime I whisper in your ear or get a little too close to you.” 

Your chest is rising and falling harshly and if he wasn’t taking up every inch of your brain right now you’d be embarrassed by how he had you panting at him. Any confusion he had vanishes and you curse yourself for being so easy for him to read. Like a fucking open book. 

“Oh that’s it. Scared of what might come out of that pouty little mouth, aren’t you? You listen to me talk to you all sweet and dirty and it just makes you all dumb, doesn’t it? S’cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up! You…you idiot.” It was a weak attempt at a comeback and you felt yourself scrunch your nose at yourself while Steve chuckled. He stepped closer, his hands on his hips as he looked down at you. 

“That’s the best you got?” You were toe to toe now—literally—and you felt yourself shrinking under his gaze. You hated how good he was at making you squirm, how you felt his words on your skin like standing under the sun in the summer heat. But most of all you despised that you didn’t hate it at all.

“You’re an asshole, you know that? A big one.” 

He flashed his teeth at you, hand going up to his chest like your words hurt him. “Oooh there ya go, that’s a little better. But if you’re gonna call me names, I’ve got some you can try. How about dadd—”

“Steve!” You practically hissed at him, smacking his shoulder and huffing like a child at the way he laughed loudly at your expense. He laughed so hard there were little crinkles in the corner of his eyes, grin so big his dimples popped out and you had to stop yourself from poking at it. 

“Alright, alright. No need to get violent, baby. At least take me to dinner first.” Rolling your eyes you snatched your key from him while he was occupied, turning to your door and muttering under your breath. Asshole. Jerk. Moron. Hot. Hot. Hot. 

He laid his hand on your shoulder softly to get your attention and when you turned back he was rolling his lips together, trying to keep his amusement at bay for your sake. He had a way of doing that you’d noticed, looking like a little puppy dog when he wanted to. You hated how much it worked. 

“M’done, I swear. For tonight at least. Thanks for coming out with me, I had a lot of fun.” 

“I did too, even if you’re a pest.” 

“Oh c’mon, you love it.” I do. God I love it so much it’s kind of sick. 

“In your dreams, Harrington,” You knew you set yourself up when he opened his mouth, that gleam in his eye that meant nothing but trouble. You beat him to it though, and the little pout he wore made you melt. “Text me when you get home safe, okay? And thanks for walking me home.” 

“Anytime, sweetheart.” 

Reaching up like he was going to sweep you hair out of your eyes, he must’ve changed his mind because he pinched your cheek instead, laughing to himself when you grumbled at him and smacked his hand away. 

You’d watched as he walked away, watched until you couldn’t see him anymore before you finally went inside, trudging up the stairs to your apartment and feeling your nerves settle once you were finally alone.

It was like you could breathe again, that ache you’d felt all night still thumping but more dull now than it had been in his presence. You finally felt cool and relaxed. Until your phone buzzed about twenty minutes later. 

Steve: Made it home safe and sound. Not a scratch on me.

Steve: Well besides the ones you left on me when you were pawing at me on the train! 

Y/n: Idiot! 

Steve: We really need to work on expanding your vocabulary. Maybe I could tutor you. :)

Steve: Whoops I meant ;), it’s hard to type one handed. 

You gasped and you swear you’d just burst into flames from how hot your face felt staring down at your phone. Was he…he wouldn’t. But did you mind if he did? No. Fuck, no. But you couldn’t just let him know that. 

Y/n: Steve Harrington you are sick! 

Steve: What?? I’m eating cereal and texting you! Trying to multitask here. 

Steve: Get your mind out of the gutter you filthy girl. 

He’d played you and you took the bait so easily! At this point you should know he’d take any opportunity to embarrass you, you both knew you loved it. He loved getting you all flushed and squirmy and you loved pretending like it didn’t light you up inside. 

Now you were thinking about him touching himself, your thighs sore from squeezing together and your heart racing. You wanted to know how he looked doing it, what he sounded like…Jesus Christ you needed to get a grip. It wasn’t until your phone buzzed in your hand that you realized you hadn’t texted him back. 

Steve: Your cheeks are all hot, aren’t they?

Oh fuck off. 

Y/n: No! They have no reason to be! 

Steve: Oh they definitely are. You’re all hot and bothered thinking about me only using one hand to text you. You’ve got a dirty mind!

He was taunting you, you knew that. Baiting you and wrapping it up with a nice shiny bow. And you’d take it every time. 

Y/n: You knew what you were doing! You set me up. 

Steve: Little ol’ me? As if I’d ever do such a thing! I’m offended you’d even suggest that. 

Just imagining the shit eating grin he was wearing riled you up even more, your blood pumping and your fingers twitching as you typed furiously back to him. 

Y/n: Playing innocent won’t work with me, Harrington. I know your tricks and they only make my cheeks red because they piss me off! Go fuck yourself, idiot! 

Steve: You wanna watch? ;) 

You thought about throwing your phone at the wall, watching it smash into a thousand tiny pieces and letting every trace of that arrogant, smug, hot asshole wash away. But you were not so secretly relishing in the back and forth, your tummy a ball of excitement. 

Y/n: In your dreams. 

His reply was instant and it made you fist your bed sheets tight, toes curling in your socks and if you were standing you’d be sure to fall to your knees. 

Steve: Oh you know it, baby. 

Steve: Maybe next time. You’ve been a dirty girl calling me all those mean names. Come kiss it better?

When a picture came in seconds after his last reply you dropped your phone to your bed, eyes wide and pulse thumping in your ears as you took in the image before you. 

Steve lying on his bed, shirtless. He was lying against his navy blue pillowcase, one arm thrown behind his head and he showed just enough of his torso for you to see a patch of chest hair that made your fingernails dig so deep into your palm you were surprised you didn’t draw blood. His hair was tousled like he’d tugged at it and his mouth held the most perfect little pout. You assumed that’s what you were supposed to be kissing better. 

It had been several minutes since you’d moved so it didn’t make sense why your breathing was so heavy and why there was sweat gathering at the base of your neck. All you could think of was leaving your mark over his chest and shoulders, deep purple spots that you know he’d wear with a proud smile on his face. 

If he could see you now…you’d never hear the end of it. 

Y/n: Meh. 

He must have been sitting there waiting for your reply, the three little dots popping up almost instantly after you hit send. 

Steve: Meh???? 

Steve: It took you 10 minutes to reply with meh??

Steve: Liar. 

A sick satisfaction coursed through you and you felt a small sense of victory reading his replies. If you didn’t know any better you’d say Steve was a little upset at your lack of reaction. 

Y/n: It took me 10 minutes because I wasn’t waiting by my phone for your reply. And I’m not a liar, just not overly impressed. 

You were a liar. A huge lying liar who was only able to do this over text because if he was in front of you’d have been stumbling over your words and blushing like an idiot. 

And that little victory you had lasted all of 2 minutes because when your phone started ringing, that ball of dread from forever ago came barreling back into you harder and faster than before. 

Pressing accept you held the phone up to your ear and tried to get your breathing under control. You were gonna blow your cover quickly if you didn’t. 

“H-hello?” 

“Not impressed, hm?” There was an edge to his voice, one you didn’t recognize but it had a sense of sternness, of authority that had your hands twitching in your lap. 

“Nope. Sorry.” The words practically squeaked out of you, the less you said the better when it came to Steve. If you spoke too much he’d be able to know what you were thinking, he probably already did. You swore he had some magical powers or something. 

“Really? And you’re sure? I only ask because earlier just looking at my arms had you panting like a dog at my feet.” 

Your face burned with humiliation and you cursed yourself for the way it turned you on. Fuck. Any control you had was quickly unraveling and falling apart in front of you. 

“Steve, I—”

“Because when it took you so long to reply, you know what I thought? I thought you’d slipped your hand into your panties like some perv. That was my theory, but I can admit it when I’m wrong.” 

“I-I wasn’t! I’m not I just—”

“But you thought about it, didn’t you?” 

And well of course you had. How could you not when he looked like he did and when you could practically hear him in your ear whispering filthy, teasing things. 

You pictured him now, standing at the foot of your bed with his shirt off and his hands on his hips. How he’d shake his head at you, scolding you like a teacher scolding their student for not doing their homework. You can hear the smirk in his voice as he riles you up and it leaves you reeling. 

“I, well I—”

“Just a yes or no, doll. Did you think about it?” 

“Yes.” It comes out in a whisper, hanging in the air and you should want to take it back, to tell him no and hang up but you don’t. You sit there and bask in it, the embarrassment, the arousal. You sit and wait for him to give you something—like a dog waiting for a treat. 

“That’s what I thought. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’m beat! You’ve kept me up far past my bedtime. Goodnight, perv. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

Before you can get a word out, a plea or a curse or anything he’s hanging up the phone and leaving you with your mouth hanging open and an ache so intense it makes your head spin. 

Idiot. Asshole. Jerk. Hot. Hot. Hot. 

He’s left you speechless, sitting there still on your bed with your phone in your hand and your mind running a thousand miles a minute. You’re aching and wet, embarrassingly wet, and you feel a need for him so deep in your bones it’s making you feel insane. 

A knock on your front door startles you, it’s harsh and quick and your pulse spikes immediately. Holding your phone in your hand you make your way through the living room, a seed of worry nestled in your stomach because who would be here knocking on your door at almost 3 am. 

Who besides Steve, of course. 

Just as you’re moving close to look through the peephole, he calls your name from the other side of the door. Excitement pools low in your belly, hairs on your arm standing tall at the promise of him just inches away. Pulling open the door you’re met with the same Steve you’d left just a short time ago, but now he’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts that hang low on his hips and his hair is still damp from the shower you’re sure he’s taken. A pink t-shirt is stretched over his broad shoulders and there’s a simple silver chain hanging around his neck. 

How does he always look this good? You don’t say anything, opting to step to the side and allow him through and he steps in wordlessly, giving your arm a squeeze when he passes by. 

Closing the door behind him, you watch as he makes his way to your room and you stand there dumbfounded, wondering what the fuck is going on and why he hasn’t said a word to you after showing up at your door at 3 am. 

Following him is a simple choice, one that leads you to your room to see Steve sitting on the edge of your bed with his legs spread wide, hands behind him flat on the comforter while he leans back the slightest bit. He’s stunning and it has you fighting the urge to sing to your knees on the carpet in front of him. 

It feels like a staring contest between the two of you. But instead of looking in your eyes, Steve is letting his gaze run over your body. You’re in an oversize shirt that reaches about mid thigh, nothing underneath but a pair of panties that Steve ruined hours ago. 

He finally meets your eyes, a small smile tugging up at the corners of his mouth that makes you feel jittery. “W-what are you doing here?” You can’t help but to stumble over your words when he’s looking at you like that. Like he could take a bite out of you. 

“What do you think?” 

“Missed me already, Harrington?” 

“Always.” Some of the smugness he carries with him has melted away with the admission and it makes your heart swell in your chest. The thought of him missing you provides a surge of warmth through your body. 

“I missed you too,” Your voice is timid, his stare making you feel exposed to him, “but I thought you were going to bed.” 

“Well that was my plan, but I couldn’t fall asleep knowing you were over here making a mess because of me and not come help clean it up.” 

Your toes curl into the carpet below you and you hope it will be able to ground you a little when you feel so…you don’t even know what you feel. Your stomach is twisting and your palms are sweaty and you can feel your heartbeat in your ears. 

One of his hands lifts to motion you forward and you do so without hesitation, your feet carrying you to him instantly. When you get close enough you go to get on your knees instinctively and he stops you with a small, proud smile. “No, no, I’m here to take care of you, baby.” And while the notion fills you with excitement, you can’t help but feel a little upset that you won’t get to put your mouth on him. 

And of course this just makes him smile even bigger, eyes bright as he takes in your frown and can’t help but shake his head at you. 

“Before we do anything I just…I want you to know I care about you, yeah? This isn’t some one night thing for me. I want everyday with you, everyday that you’ll give me.” 

“I care about you too, Steve. I think that was obvious when I scrubbed all the paint off that plate after I saw that text on your phone,” He huffs a small laugh at you, hands settled on your hips, “You’ve become such an important part of my life and I—I like you a lot, even when you’re mean to me.” 

He scoffs like the idea is foreign, playful glint in his eye the whole time and it drives you crazy. He has that look, the one that tells you he’s about to say something that will either make you hit him or drop back down to your knees. 

“Come give daddy a kiss then.” 

It’s the former, hand coming up to smack at his chest hard despite the way the name makes your stomach clench and your spine tingle. He just laughs, loud and steady, pulling you down onto his lap and smashing his lips against yours. 

His lips are just as soft as you’d dreamed about, full and slick with spit and you feel yourself pulse when he smiles into the kiss. His nose bumps with yours, his hands sliding from your waist to your hair and letting his fingers tug and pull while you push closer to him. 

“Fuck—you taste so good.” You don’t even realize the words come from you until you feel Steve groan against you, tongue sweeping across your bottom lip as if to taste you too. 

When you finally have to pull back for air, your forehead is pressed against his and you both try and catch your breath. He looks like a dream, mouth shiny and swollen, eyes glazed over as he takes you in. He tastes sweet, the kind of taste you crave at the end of the day or when you need a pick me up. Or just because. 

He’s shifted back a little so you’re not hanging off him and the edge of the bed, your thighs wrapped around his hips and your chests almost touching from how close you are. He’s tugging at the ends of your shirt, trying to pull it off but it’s trapped between your thighs and his. You lean up just enough for him to pull it free, tugging it over your head with ease. 

What you’ve managed to forget in the heat of the moment, what Steve doesn’t know but is quick to find out is the little secret no one but Robin knows about—and she only knows because you needed moral support. 

“Oh holy fuck,” You’ve never seen his eyes so wide and his mouth is dropped open so big it’s almost kind of scary. Somehow you’d forgotten your nipples were pierced, maybe it was from Steve kissing you stupid, you’re not sure. But he’s looking at your tits now like he’s got gold in front of him. 

Your mouth opens to tease him but before you can speak he’s moving his hand to cover your mouth, eyes never leaving your boobs and you have to laugh against him. 

“Don’t—you can’t say a thing right now or I’ll cum in my pants.” He sounds so serious, so pained that you whine against his hand all greedy and impatient. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, doll. Think I could cum from just lookin’ at em for too long.” 

You nod eagerly against his hand, the idea of that turning you on even more than you thought possible. He finally removes his hand but only because he can’t hold out on touching you any longer. His palms come up to cup your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples and you sigh in relief at the feeling of his touch. He uses two fingers to tug gently at the little silver barbell that runs through them, watching your face for your reaction and you don’t disappoint. Your mouth falls open, a small moan slipping out and your hands grip his shoulders tight. 

“Fuck me. God you’re perfect, so pretty and sweet for me. Shit, m’losing my goddamn mind here, baby.” Half his words are almost slurred, attention moving between your tits and your face as he tugs and thumbs at your nipples. The furrow in his brow makes him look genuinely concerned and you throb at the thought of him being so mesmerized by you. 

He’s so occupied with your pretty tits in his face he doesn’t notice when you slide back a little, a few inches of space between you now. You’ve been soaked and aching for far too long and you think if he doesn’t touch you in the next few seconds you might cry. 

You move one of your hands to grab his, tugging it from your nipple and sliding it down between you to press against the front of your panties. They’re messy, your thighs sticky and you hope he understands your not so subtle hint. 

He does, cursing at the feel of how wet and hot you are even through the thin layer separating him from you. “Poor thing, didn’t even know someone could be this messy.” Your hips shift, desperately trying to get his fingers to catch on your clit. “Who made you this desperate, huh? Was it that prick from the bar?” 

You’re shaking your head but it’s not enough for him, hand moving away and you gasp, pulling it back and giving him what he wants. “You. It’s you—you did this to me.” 

Instead of saying anything he dips his fingers past the band of your panties, both of you groaning at the contact. He circles your clit twice, thighs twitching around him before he’s dipping down to your sopping hole, teasing his finger there before swiping through your slit to collect some of the slick that’s there. 

You want to whine when he pulls his hand out but it fades away at the sight of his glistening fingers, how he studies them for a minute before slipping them into his mouth and humming in content. 

“Way better than mint chocolate chip.” 

Next thing you know he’s slipping his hand back between you, the imprint of his knuckles against your panties hot enough to make you drool down his chest. 

Thumb pressed to your clit he moves in slow circles, just enough pressure to make you need more, pressing down onto his hand and trying to swivel your hips. “Want you, Steve. Need you.” 

“I know baby, gotta stretch you out first.” At the same time he’s speaking he’s slipping his middle finger inside of you with no resistance and it’s not enough. It’s like he has a connection to your mind, slipping another finger in immediately and you feel that ache start to untangle itself the slightest bit. 

With two of his much larger fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit, you already feel the signs of an orgasm building deep in your belly. You feel that burn all over, grinding down onto him in search of that pressure that’ll make your eyes roll back. It’s when he curls his fingers that you lurch forward, face nuzzling his neck as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your vision blur. 

“S-steve..” You’re almost there already, walls clamping down on his fingers and holding them inside while he speeds up on your clit. There’s a twitch in your thighs that he noticed, hushed praises in your ear when that string begins to fray, threatening to snap in seconds. 

And then it stops. 

There’s no more curling his fingers and his thumb is still on your clit. You pull back just enough to curse at him, his hand wet and sticky with evidence of just how much you were enjoying that. But when you see his face you know you’re fucked. He’s got that shine in his eyes that screams trouble, a devious little smirk on his lips as he watches the frustration build behind your eyes. 

“Something to say, sweetheart?” He’s taunting you, daring you to curse at him—but you don’t. You can’t fathom the idea of him taking this all away so you remain quiet, shaking your head at him and hoping your obedience will pay off soon. He nods at you as if to say “that’s what I thought”, hand coming up to tuck your face back into the crook of his neck as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you again. 

You’re glad he can’t see the way your cheeks turn bright red because you can hear how wet you are, the small little noise it makes every time he drives his fingers back into has you pressing further into him. He has goosebumps on skin from the feel of your hot breath against his throat from where you’re practically panting, little open mouthed kisses left for as far as you can reach. 

It doesn’t take long before that feeling is building back up, stronger than before and you curse against his skin. “Snug little cunt, greedy for it, isn’t she?” You think you chant a whispered “yes” into him but you can’t be sure, overwhelmed by the tight, quick circles he’s rubbing on your swollen clit and the wave of pleasure you feel beginning to wash over you. 

And then it stops again. 

This time you can’t help the whine that slips out, hands fisting his t-shirt as you writhe in his lap. He chuckles in your ear, smooth and teasing and it makes you mortified when you feel yourself drip down his hand at his meanness. 

“You can handle one more time, yeah? Then I’ll give you my cock.” The promise of finally being full of him is enough to push down your frustrations, eagerness and excitement taking over. He lets you get away with a nod, picking up a faster pace than before and you think it’s not for you, but that his patience is wearing thin. 

He’s rubbing harshly against that sponges spot inside of you with every pass of his fingers, your mouth dropped open with no sound coming out as you try and hold off. It’s too much, too intense and you feel lightheaded at how every nerve in your body is lit up and buzzing.

But apparently he knows your body better than you do, stopping just seconds before you begin to tip over and your shoulders sag in relief and annoyance at the same time. 

“Please, please.” They’re quiet little pleas that he can't even hear but can feel against his skin and he coos at you. It’s condescending and should piss you off but instead has you nudging your nose against his for comfort. 

“Told ya I’d give you my cock, honey. Lay down and let me see you.” You move to lay back, watching him stand over you and strip his shirt and shorts off. He’d forgone underwear and you thank god for that. The sight of his cock, hard and shiny with precum as your thighs falling open for him automatically. He notices this, of course he does. He’s thick and you’re suddenly very grateful for the prep he just did, you don’t think he’d fit otherwise. 

When he leans down to pull a condom from the back pocket of his shorts—presumptuous cocky bastard—you feel the urge to stop him but refrain. You’re already crossing all these invisible lines, you need to have at least some self control. Even though you’re desperate to feel him bare. You’re captivated by him, watching him roll the condom on and clenching around nothing as he hisses through his teeth at the contact. 

Seeing him for the first time, how hard and flushed he is makes you regret even more not getting your mouth on him. Next time, you promise yourself. You’d thought you’d be nervous for this, but you think you’re too overwhelmed with a need for him that there’s no room left to be nervous or anxious. 

Climbing on the bed he moves between your open legs, hands on either side of your head as he holds himself up over you. His cock is lying against you, head touching your clit and it’s making it impossible to lie still. “You still want this?” His face is serious, and you want to squish his cheeks at his consideration for you despite his hard cock pressing against you. 

“Please, Steve. I want this—I need you.” It’s all the confirmation he needs, reaching one hand between you to take his cock, running it through your slit and groaning at the way you twitch below him. After bumping it against your clit he moves down to your entrance, pushing in the slightest bit and squeezing his eyes shut at the feel of you clenching down on him. 

The burn of him pushing forward stings, but it’s a welcome pain that has you gripping the sheets below you, looking for something to steady you when you feel like you’ll float away. “Keep going, please keep going.” You’re pleading below him, mouth dropping open when he pushes in. He has to pause when he’s in all the way, his patch of public hair at the base of his cock catching at your clit and you gasp. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” His forehead is pressed against your cheek, his teeth scraping against the edge of your jaw as he tried to collect himself. “I don’t—shit I don’t know how—goddamn baby, never felt anything this good before in my life.” 

He throbs inside of you when you whine, craning your neck up just an inch to take the silver chain dangling above you between your teeth. “Fuckin’ hell, gonna kill me.” You lift your hips off the bed, urging him to move and moan around the chain when he slips deeper inside of you. He pulls himself up to look at you, hair falling around your head like an angel with blotchy cheeks and fucked out eyes. 

Thrusting forward, the tip of his cock nudges against that spot inside of you and you clench around him so hard his arms almost give out above you. This has been building up for weeks and with the way he edged you earlier, you won’t last long. He knows as much, thrusting into you and using one hand to rub sloppy circles on your clit. 

“Feel like I’m having deja vu, having you pressed against me like this, yeah?” It was just hours ago you were on the train, a few more layers between you but pressed up against him all the same. 

The chain pops from your mouth when he moves your hands to lay beside your head, lacing your fingers together as he stretches over you. Your piercings press against his chest just right and it has your tummy tightening, the added friction enough to have your head spinning. 

He looks mouthwatering above you, hair out of place and falling over his forehead. His cheeks are flushed and he’s holding his bottom lip between his teeth as he moves between watching your face and the way your tits bounce with every thrust of his cock. There’s little drops of sweat running down his sculpted nose and slipping onto your chest, your cute little gasps hitting his ears. 

You know you’re done for when he leans down, lips pressed to your ear and his harsh breath tickling your skin. 

“Takin’ your daddy’s cock so well, aren’t you, doll?” 

Eyes screwed shut you claw at his shoulders, his name leaving your lips in a curse and you both can see the way the nickname makes your face flush a shade darker of red, eyes turning dark and fingers digging into him. “Dirty girl, acting like you don’t like it when I can feel you making a mess of me, this pretty little pussy hugging me tight when I call myself daddy.” 

“Fu-fuck, Steve. Gonna cum—m’gonna cum.” Your words are hushed and quick in his air, rope beginning to snap and if he stops right now you might actually kill him. 

“Go ahead, soak my cock, pretty girl. Show me who I belong to, yeah?” It’s all it takes, rope snapping and sparks shooting down to your toes as you tug at his hair, your thighs tight as your orgasm crashes through you. It feels like it goes on forever, your body taught and ears buzzing and you can barely make out the faint curses coming from above you. 

He belongs to you, and he will as long as he’ll have you.

You feel yourself start to come back down, your chin pinched in between Steve’s fingers and he’s looking at you like he’s seeing the first snowfall of the year. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips grinding into yours and his breaths uneven and sharp. “Where…where do you want it baby?” 

Not sure that you can make coherent sentences right now, you reach up to cup your breasts, Steve’s eyes widening before the most pitiful cry leaves his lips. He thrusts into you one, two, three more times and each one has you gasping below him as aftershocks of your orgasm zing through you. 

He pulls out quickly, pulling off the condom with a sharp inhale and you think he looks good like this, all desperate and pathetic for you like you always are for him. You urge him forward, fingers digging into his hips and trying to pull him up your body. He moves easily, coming up so he’s barely resting any weight on your belly, knees on either side of your chest. 

You cup your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples and pushing them together below him. He’s looking at you from under his lashes, eyes hooded and lips parted in a silent gasp. It only takes two quick strokes before what’s been building at the base of his spine snaps and he’s cursing above you, ropes of white covering your chest and neck and catching the piercings too. 

“Perfect, you’re so perfect—shit.” He works himself through it slowly, his cock twitching and his fingers covered in cum from where it’s dribbled over his fist. He’s staring down at you with an intensity that makes you blush, eyes taking in every inch of you that’s marked with him. 

“Look like a fuckin’ dream with these pretty tits covered in my cum. Fuck, doll, I’m gonna think about this for the rest of my life.” 

All you can do is smile stupidly below him, your heart bursting and your body thoroughly exhausted. He leans down and presses a quick peck to your cheek before he’s shifting off the bed, running to the bathroom and washing off his hand before he comes back with a warm rag, sitting beside you so he can clean you up. His hand hovers over you and you roll your eyes at the little pout he’s wearing as he looks at your boobs. 

“Are you seriously pouting over cleaning off my boobs right now?” 

“Who wouldn’t be? They look so pretty like this.” 

You reach for the rag with a giggle to do it yourself but he pulls his hand back, shaking his head at you and begrudgingly wiping his cum off your chest with a little sigh that’s a little endearing. 

Once you're cleaned up and the condom is in the trash he helps you up so he can pull back the comforter, both of you snuggling in under the covers—naked at his request. His chest is pressed to your back, his heartbeat felt against your skin and it makes you smile into your pillow. 

His skin is warm against yours, fingers laced beside your head and you lift your chin to place quick kisses against his knuckles. 

“Now that’s the kind of reward I could get used to.” 

“Steve!”

————-

It’s the next day and there’s a soreness between your thighs that has you smiling to yourself while you get ready. You remember this morning, how you woke up to the sight of honey brown hair nestled between your thighs, coaxing you out of your sleep with his tongue on your clit. 

The best kind of pain, where you’ll feel him for days when you walk or when you sit down. It brings a blush to your skin and memories you’ll think about forever to your mind. 

He left shortly after, both of you needing to be away from each other so you could actually get ready for the lunch you had planned with Robin and Eddie this afternoon. 

A feeling of nervousness settles within you as you get ready for this lunch. It’s not that you want to keep this from Rob and Eddie, but you’re not what you’d even tell them! These nerves were much more about you and Steve then they were your friends. 

Would you tell them you’re dating? That you like each other? That you’re just fucking around? This is what made you anxious, what had your hands twisting in your lap on the train and had you so distracted you stumbled right into Eddie outside of the restaurant. 

“Woah! Caught ya.” He steadies you, smiling down into your worried eyes and a little bit of that anxiety seeps out of you. This is your friend, one of your best friends! Who cares what’s going on, maybe he’ll have some insight that you can’t see for yourself. 

Eddie leads you into the place, a booth in the back already holding Robin and Steve. They’re both on one side of it and you can see from here that Steve’s unhappy about not getting to sit by you. 

You slide in so you’re closest to the wall, legs knocking with Steve’s under the table and the small amount of contact soothes some of the turmoil happening inside of you. 

Everything is going good, things feel normal—besides the subtle winks Steve sends your way to get you blushing—and you’re not even worried anymore. The table in front of you is filled with food, everyone reaching over and grabbing whatever sounds good. Arms are crossed over each other and hands get tangled when you reach for fries or mozzarella sticks or an onion ring. 

Robin is going on about something, you’re not sure what you’ve kind of zoned out a little if you’re being honest, when you feel Steve staring at you. You look up to his brows furrowed, confusion laced in his features and you quirk your brow at him, wondering what has him looking at you like that. 

It’s when Eddie speaks up beside you, cutting Robin off and bringing everyone’s attention to him that it makes sense, “Harrington, I appreciate the love but can you stop trying to play footsies with me under the table?” 

Steve’s face flames and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and out of your mouth, hands coming up to try and smother how loud it is. But Steve doesn’t recover fast enough, eyes darting to yours sheepishly and that’s when it clicks for Eddie. 

“Oh. My. God.” 

Three sets of eyes fly to Eddie. Robin is confused. You and Steve are looking at Eddie as he looks between the two of you, mouth dropped open in shock and you curse yourself for the storm that’s coming. 

“What?” It’s Robin that speaks first, eyes darting between the three of you quickly. You and Steve keep quiet, trying not to give yourselves away but it’s no use. “Oh my god.” There’s Eddie again, sinister smirk on his lips as he takes his time taking in your pink cheeks and the way Steve won’t make eye contact with him. 

“Oh for the love of god! Someone tell me what’s going on. I am not a mind reader.” 

“Robin, you won’t believe it. These two finally fucked.” A chorus of noises fill your small corner of the restaurant, booth creaking underneath you from where Eddie is practically bouncing in his seat. Robin squeals, hands going to grip Steve’s arms. Steve sighs, letting Robin tug him around like a rag doll in a fit of her excitement. And you gasp, smacking Eddie in the chest the way you do to Steve all the time. 

But neither of you deny it and that alone sends waves of relief through you. Not that you think Steve would, especially with the way he’s gotten over his bit of embarrassment, adorning his signature smirk and a look of pride as the people around him freak out. 

You don’t know how bad Steve wants to show you off, tell the world and scream it from the rooftops how lucky he is to even get to be around you. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, sweet and kind but not afraid to challenge him and call him out for his bullshit. God, he’s obsessed with you. 

Eddie’s rubbing at his chest where you hit him, pouting like a child as if it actually hurt. You hope it did. “Damn, she’s got some force behind those hits,” He looks from you to Steve, eyes lighting up and you know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth, “but you love it, don’t ya big boy?” 

Your head falls forward to rest in your palm, eyes closed as you try and pretend you're anywhere but here. You think you hear Robin gag from across the table and it forces a laugh out of you. Eyes lifting to meet Steve’s, his teeth are showing and he’s shaking his head like he knows a secret no one else does. His words fill the space around you and make your skin heat under his stare. 

“Oh you have no idea.”  ————————————————————————

(save me steve harrington in a tank top)

@aheadfullofsteverogers i remembered and hope you enjoy 💌