Mint Chocolate Rewards [s.h.] 18+

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 💌

10 Years (steve harrington x fem!reader)

18+ account - minors do not interact

steve harrington x f!reader (modern au)

Word Count: 6.5K (I don’t know how this happened)

Rating: E

Summary: You attend your boyfriend's 10-year high-school reunion as his plus one and realize he’s the popular guy everyone remembers, while you were the shy, nerdy girl back during your own high school days. You can’t shake the feeling of being out of place and question if you don’t belong in his world – and are surprised to find out that he has his own insecurities.

Warning: established relationship, flirting, teasing, sexual touching, language, pet names, fluff, smutty flashbacks, insecurity / jealousy (both Steve and Reader) dirty talk, praise, fingering, implied p in v sex

A/N: This is my first time writing for Steve Harrington so I’m really nervous. I recently watched the movie Free Guy and my love for Joe Keery multiplied 10x and I am so shocked at myself for crushing on an age-appropriate man. I can’t wait for season 5 of Stranger Things which feels so far away, so I decided to write something while we wait. This fic was slightly self-indulgent since I am nearing 30, but I never went to my high-school reunion since it was cancelled because of Covid. Thank you to the following people who let me brain dump with them as I dip my toes into the Stranger Things Fandom. @rebelfell, @munsonsreputation, @lovebugism, @thelostmagicians. Hope you enjoy the story!

xx

As you pulled the dress over your head, glancing into the mirror to adjust the neckline, you could feel Steve’s gaze lingering on you, the corners of his mouth teasingly twitching upward.

Steve leaned against the back of his childhood bathroom door shirtless, crossed his legs and placed his hands into his jean pockets and stared at you as you got dressed. His parents were on vacation and you two had the house to yourselves which had made for wonderful activities last night when you two drove in from Chicago. And this morning when you two woke up.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. The event started at 7 PM. “Focus, Harrington! You need to get dressed and make it to the reunion without getting distracted.” You said with a teasing tone.

Steve smirked, “What distraction? I’m just admiring,” he said, his voice lowering as he closed the space between you, leaning in to brush his lips against your mouth. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, the heat in his gaze unmistakable.

“Come on,” he murmured, his tone sultry as he let his hands travel down your arms, lingering on your waist. “You know you look incredible in this dress.” He let his fingers trail upwards, teasingly brushing against the neckline before he moved his hands to cup your face, pulling you closer.

“Hmm, what’s that?” you replied, your voice dropping a notch lower.

You felt a rush of warmth as he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss deepening as he whispered against your mouth, “We can be a little late…” His hands found your breasts, thumbs gently brushing over the fabric, and your breath hitched.

With a soft chuckle, you pulled slightly away, just enough to lock eyes with him. “Steve, we need to get going. We said we would pick up Robin on the way from her parent's place,” You tried to sound firm, but the heat in his gaze made it difficult to resist him.

He groaned slightly, pressing another lingering kiss to your lips. “Promise me we’ll have our fun afterward?” His voice was a seductive whisper that sent a thrill through you.

You nodded slowly, a playful smile on your face. Your hand slid down to stroke his cock through his pants. He closed his eyes and moaned. “I promise. Now let’s go, or we’ll be late.”

With a playful shove, you nudged him away, taking the chance to fix the dress's neckline that he had just messed up.

He laughed softly and glanced at you while he readjusted himself in his pants. “Well, I’m definitely not letting you leave here until you at least admit that I clean up pretty good too.” He leaned forward again, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one less teasing and more demanding.

Breaking away again, your breath mingled with the heated atmosphere around you. “Okay, fine! You do look good, Harrington. Now can you put on your damn shirt so we can get out of here?” You gestured toward the clothes strewn across the countertop.

Steve sighed dramatically, feigning reluctance as he turned toward the pile. “Fine, but you’re missing the perfect moment for me to show off my impressively chiseled abs.” He tugged a fitted shirt over his head and turned back to you, tucking his bottom lip out.

You bit your lip to suppress a laugh, shaking your head at his antics. “You really think you’re the star of the show tonight, huh?” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest and giving him a mock-serious look.

With a grin, he swaggered over to you, running a hand through his hair. “Can you blame me? With a date like you? I’m just trying to keep up.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Alright, Mr. Hotshot, ready?”

He took a step closer, reaching for your hand, threading his fingers through yours as he pulled you toward the door. “I love you,” he whispered. “I can’t wait for everyone to meet you.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words, the sincerity in his tone making everything else fade away for a moment. “I love you too, Steve,” you replied, your voice soft but filled with warmth. You squeezed his hand as you stepped out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

xx

You met Steve almost a year ago. It was at a mutual friend’s party, and the moment he walked in, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was, without a doubt, one of the most attractive people you had ever seen. His confidence, the way he carried himself, and his genuine smile all drew you in.

As you started talking, you were struck by how easy it was to chat with him. Steve was in his senior year at the University of Illinois Chicago studying sports management and you could tell he felt a little self-conscious about being an older student, considering he was in his late 20’s. He had explained how he and his best friend Robin had moved to Chicago after working at a video store for a couple years in their hometown of Hawkins to save up money before deciding to make the big move. He spent a few years working odd hours in event operations across different gigs for sports teams around Chicago and then decided he wanted to go to college to pursue a job in the sports industry.  

Despite his looks and charm, he was down-to-earth and kind. He asked for your number, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was out of your league, and you honestly thought you’d never hear from him again.

But then, unexpectedly, your phone buzzed one evening with a message from Steve and the rest was history.

You remember having felt so nervous the first time you slept with Steve. The idea of being completely naked in front of him seemed a bit too much.

You were laying on the bed topless and only had your panties on. Steve turned to you, his intense gaze locking onto yours, and you could see the desire flickering in his eyes. It was as if he could read your thoughts, understanding the anxiety that lingered beneath your surface.

In a low, husky voice, he leaned in closer, brushing your hair back from your face. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m so fucking hard for you,” he admitted, his hands roaming gently across your skin. As you glanced down, the outline of his cock was evident against the fabric of his boxer briefs, the contours creating an undeniable shape that sparked a rush of warmth throughout your body.

He kissed his way down your neck. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

You nodded.

His hands moved with careful intent, and he paused for a moment, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he let his fingers explore the delicate fabric of your panties. Slowly, he traced the lace edges, sending shivers along your spine.

With a soft motion, he hooked his fingers beneath the waistband, his touch featherlight yet electrifying. He looked up at you, his eyes dark, and licked his lips. Then, with a gentle tug, he began to slide the fabric down your thighs, his fingers brushing against your skin, making your heart race.

As the panties slipped away, he discarded them carelessly. “I want to kiss you…” His hand lowered right on top of your pussy, “right fucking here,”

Your jaw went slack with a gasp as you felt him tease your entrance with his index finger.

“Do you want that pretty girl?” he teased, a smirk dancing on his lips.

You licked your lips and nodded.

“I need to hear it. Just say the word, and I’ll give you everything you want. I just wanna make you feel good,” Steve whispered, his thumb grazing your bottom lip.

“Please, kiss me. Make me feel good,” you said biting your bottom lip, heart thudding out of your chest.

“Good fucking girl,” he groaned, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and burying his face between your thighs.

You felt beautiful that day and every day since then. He always told you with his words. He always told you with his eyes. He always told you with his hands. And he always told you with his mouth.

Steve had just graduated this past summer and you were so proud of him because he had landed a permanent position with the Chicago Cubs in their business development team. He would be focused on developing and maintaining relationships with television and digital media partnerships, while overseeing the distribution of games and programming. He was perfect for the job, he was just such a people person.

You met his parents at graduation, and you knew his relationship with them was… interesting. They took you both out for a fancy dinner and that was that.

A couple weeks later, Steve received his ‘Class of 2014 High School Reunion’ email and invited you to be his plus one and now here you were in Hawkins on your way to the event.

“Seriously, Steve,” Robin groaned from the backseat as Steve gripped the steering wheel, “why are we even going to this thing? It’s like stepping into a time warp of bad haircuts and questionable fashion choices.”

Steve smirked. “Come on, Robin. It’s a chance to relive your glory days,”

Robin rolled her eyes dramatically. “Easy for you to say, King Steve. You were the one with the perfect hair and the pretty girlfriends. Captain of the basketball team and heartthrob extraordinaire even though you really were the King of Dorks,”

Steve shot Robin a wounded look from the rearview mirror. You chuckled, giving Steve a shy smile while he absentmindedly rubbed circles on your thigh.

“It’s not going to be that bad. Plus, there’s free food. And alcohol,” he said.

“Right, because nothing screams ‘successful adult’ like getting tipsy in front of our high school classmates,” she shot back, crossing her arms. “How nostalgic.”

“What was high school like for you?” Robin suddenly asked you.

You felt the heat of the spotlight as Robin turned her attention to you, and you squirmed slightly. “Uh, high school was... interesting?” you answered hesitantly, glancing at Steve as he continued to draw patterns on your thigh. “I mean, you know, typical teen stuff.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, clearly wanting more than just a vague response. “Interesting? That’s it? Come on, you’ve got to give me more than that. Did you have a jock phase, a nerd phase? Maybe a secret life as a punk rock musician?”

You laughed, trying to shake off the pressure. “Well, I wasn’t a punk rock musician, that’s for sure. Let’s just say I wasn’t exactly the queen of the social scene.”

“Was your prom hell too? Please tell me there’s a cringeworthy story involving sequins and too much hairspray.”

The truth was high school hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park for you. The constant feeling of not belonging and feeling so out of place. You always felt a step behind everyone else. You don’t even think the popular kids knew you existed, and you felt invisible at times. Every day in high school felt like a test you just couldn’t ace.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal to Robin. “Okay, fine. There might’ve been some sequins involved...”

As you pulled into the parking lot, Robin sighed dramatically. “Well, here goes nothing. Let’s see if anyone remembers Steve’s legendary hair.”

Steve winked at you. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ve still got it.”

xx

They did remember.

In fact, it was sort of crazy how his classmates approached him—like he was a celebrity and they were fans. It happened again and again; each time someone greeted Steve, the same starry-eyed admiration flashed in their eyes. You couldn’t help but feel small, like a shadow beside a bright light. The girls around you were practically lining up for a chance to chat with the ‘King’ himself, and your mind was racing.

They kept glancing over at Steve with wide, dreamy eyes, whispering conspiratorially among themselves. You caught snippets of their conversation, punctuated with compliments and laughable memories from high school, with Steve’s name threaded through it all like some glorious anthem.

You caught him glancing your way every so often—a reassuring smile, a wink, or a playful grin that made your heart flutter. He was currently talking to Tommy and Carol, who Robin had explained were more acquaintances at this point, but not close friends of theirs. But despite the warmth of his affectionate glances, you still felt a tightening knot of insecurities in your gut.

Back in Chicago, you had become all too accustomed to the way women looked at him—those lingering glances, the way their smiles widened when he walked into a room. You had been one of those women once.

Steve was fucking pretty, and he had charisma. It was sexy. He was sexy. It was really that simple.

Eddie and Robin were currently deep in conversation talking about a classmate who had flunked gym class but somehow ran a successful podcast now. You had already met Eddie in Chicago because he had visited Robin and Steve a few times, however, it was your first time meeting Jonathan, Billy, and Barb.

“So, you’re a lawyer?” Barb asked.

“Yeah, environmental,” you replied, sipping on your drink.

“Where did you go to law school?” Jonathan asked, his eyes scanning you.

“I went to Northwestern. I graduated a couple of years ago and started working for a small environmental law boutique firm. I’m more on the regulatory and compliance side of things,” you answered, trying to sound confident. “It’s challenging but rewarding,” you shrugged.

“Impressive. You must be swimming in student debt,” Billy joked, leaning back against the wall.

You chuckled. “Let’s just say I have a solid monthly payment plan that haunts me every time I check my bank account.”

Laughter broke into the group, and you started feeling more at ease.

“And what adventures have you had since law school?” Barb continued, genuinely interested. “You must have some wild stories being a lawyer.”

You were about to respond when Steve rejoined the circle. “Hey, guys! What did I miss?” he asked, leaning into you, an arm draping casually over your shoulder.

“Just some riveting tales of legal exploits,” you replied, giving him a playful nudge. “You know, super exciting stuff.”

“I honestly don’t know how you landed this one, Harrington,” Billy said, shaking his head.

“You and me both. She’s too pretty and smart for me,” Steve said with a smirk, his thumb tracing your shoulder. You felt your cheeks warm, both at his words and the steady focus of his gaze.

“Oh my gosh! Nancy, you’re finally here,” you heard Robin shriek.

The room seemed to blur around you as Robin’s voice cut through the chatter and you watched Nancy walk through the entrance with such an effortless beauty.

Nancy Wheeler, you had heard about her—she was the one who had broken Steve’s heart in high school.  

Robin was the first to dart over, her excitement practically radiating off her. She enveloped Nancy in a tight hug, squeezing her. One by one, others joined in the greeting, each taking turns to greet her, their laughter mingling with playful banter.

Steve’s face lit up, and he hugged Nancy tightly. “Nance! It’s been forever!”

“Steve!” she exclaimed, her voice warm as she closed the distance, arms outstretched. They embraced tightly, a moment that felt like it lasted just a beat too long. You could see the way he relaxed against her, a familiarity that made your stomach turn.

You watched them, your heart doing a complicated dance. They shared memories, inside jokes, and a history that stretched back to Hawkins High. Nancy was beautiful—no denying that. She was the girl who’d once held Steve’s heart, his first love.

Finally, as the hugs subsided, Nancy stepped back, and smoothed her hair back, and glanced around the room, her gaze landing on you. With a friendly smile that lit up her features, she said hello to you.  

As you introduced yourself to Nancy, you caught Robin’s eye. She raised an eyebrow at you, her expression a mix of curiosity and empathy. Robin had always been perceptive.

xx

After an hour or so, you grabbed another drink (or two) and decided to walk around for a bit by yourself and found a giant wall displaying the photographs of the graduating class of 2014, your eyes dancing over the familiar faces you had met tonight. Each picture told a story, and some of them featured, Steve, grinning ear to ear at events like prom, football games, and graduation.

As you leaned closer to a candid picture of Steve laughing with a group of friends, you heard a voice call out your name from behind you.

You turned to see Jason Carver, a familiar face from your undergraduate days at the University of Michigan.

“Jason!” Your surprise was genuine. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” You didn’t remember him being originally from Indiana.

He chuckled. “Likewise, considering you didn’t go to Hawkins. High school reunions have a way of pulling people out of the woodwork.” His gaze shifted to the photos.

"Wow, it’s been so long. How have you been?" you asked.

"I've been good. Just moved to Indianapolis and thought I'd check out the reunion. I can't believe how many people are here!" He glanced at the wall, then back at you. "You look amazing."

"Thanks! You look great too," you replied, caught off guard by the compliment.

Jason’s eyes lingered on you. “And how’s life? Where are you these days?”

“Busy,” you laughed. “Work, mostly. I’m in Chicago now, actually,”

He leaned against the wall, his expression playful. “So, what brings you here tonight?”

You glanced back at the photos of Steve and pointed at him. “Well, I’m here with Steve. He’s my boyfriend.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up, and he leaned in a little closer. “Harrington?”

You nodded. “Yeah, that Steve,”

His gaze flickered between you and the photos. “I never would’ve guessed. You two seem…different.”

“Different how?” you asked, trying to weigh his tone, but curiosity and annoyance laced your words.

Jason shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess I just remember him as the quintessential high school jock and prom king, and you…,” he trailed off, his expression searching for a way to complete the thought.

You raised an eyebrow.

Jason gave a slight laugh, and put a hand on your shoulder. “I guess I’m just surprised he bagged someone like you. You always had that whole ‘girl-next-door’ vibe going on. It was hot,”

You didn’t quite know how to respond to that statement. His breath smelled of tequila, so you just assumed it was the alcohol talking. In the corner of the room, you noticed Steve scanning the crowd for you. When he spotted you, you noticed his step faltered. The smile on his face faded, replaced by a furrowed brow as he crossed the room.

"Hey, there you are,” he said, quickly kissing your forehead and putting his arm around your waist before turning back to Jason.

"Jason," Steve said, tone clipped, extending a hand. "Good to see you again."

"Yeah, you too, man," Jason replied, shaking his hand, but there was tension that lingered in the air.

"So, what’s up?” Steve said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Just reminiscing about college days,” you responded.

Jason chuckled. “Yeah, never thought I’d miss the stress of finals, but here we are,” He winked at you.

Steve’s grip tightened on your waist, and his jaw clenched. “Old friends?”

Jason’s smile was cryptic. “Something like that.”

"Right," Steve interjected, trying to keep his tone light, though his other hand was tucked into his pocket as if he needed to anchor himself. "I didn’t realize you two knew each other,”

You glanced back at Jason. “We met Junior year of college, I think?" you explained quickly.

Steve shifted slightly, glancing at the photos again before focusing back on you and Jason. “That’s cool. Listen, babe, we should probably get going soon,” he said, his tone light but his eyes tight. “Eddie said he wants us to get to the bar before it gets too crowded.”

“Sounds good,” you agreed, giving Jason a polite smile. “It was really good to see you!”

“Yeah, you too,” Jason replied. “Let’s catch up at the next alumni event,”

“Definitely,” you said, though you could feel Steve’s arm urge you forward. As you both walked away, you stole a glance back at Jason, who waved lightly, his expression tight-lipped.

Once you were a few steps away, Steve's arm fell from your waist. You turned to him, your brow furrowing at his sudden distance. “Hey, what’s wrong?” you asked gently.

“Nothing, why would anything be wrong?” He kept his gaze straight ahead.

You pressed your lips together, weighing your words carefully. “You seemed… a little tense back there,”

He shrugged, glancing at you for a moment before looking away again. “Yeah, it’s whatever. Just didn’t expect him to be here, that’s all.”

“Right,” you said, unconvinced.

xx

The bar was buzzing with laughter, clinking glasses, and the sound of upbeat music echoing through the dimly lit space. You spotted the familiar faces of Steve’s friends gathered around a large table in the back. Eddie waved energetically as you made your way over.

As Steve guided you toward the table, you could feel the tension still lingering in his posture. He ordered a couple of beers without looking at the menu, his gaze distant and unfocused.

"You alright?" you asked quietly so his friends wouldn’t hear, concern threading through your voice as you settled into your seat.

"Yeah, fine," he replied a bit too quickly, though his brow remained knit in a way that made it clear he was anything but.

You watched as he fiddled with his phone, seemingly absorbed in something that wasn’t there while you took a sip of your drink. Just then, you noticed Robin cutting through, her trademark smile lighting up her face as she approached the table.

“Hey, you two! Having fun?” she asked, sliding into the seat next to you. She was all energy, and you felt a flicker of relief wash over you at her presence.

“Sure,” Steve muttered, his tone lacking the usual enthusiasm. You exchanged a look with Robin, who raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the vibe.

Robin leaned back in her chair, her eyes darting between you and Steve. “Okay, spill. What’s with the brooding, Harrington? Did someone steal your hair gel?”

Steve shot her a half-hearted glare. “Very funny,”

As the group chatted and shared stories, you felt Steve grow more distant. Finally, he excused himself from the table and you motioned for Robin to come sit by you.

“What’s up with Steve?” you asked, lowering your voice. “He's been acting weird the last hour,”

Robin narrowed her eyes. “I might be able to help with that. Just a bit of insight you'd probably find interesting: Steve hated Jason back in high school. Honestly, we all kind of did,”

“What? Really?” you replied, taken aback. “I didn’t realize.

“Oh, trust me,” Robin continued, crossing her arms. “They had some serious rivalry back in the day. And it’s not just that. Steve’s always been a bit... how do I put this? Jealous. He can’t help it.”

“Jealous?” Your heart raced with surprise. “Of what?

“Guys that approach you and flirt with you,” she shrugged.

“Flirt with me?”

Her lips curled into a smirk. “Oh babes, you’re terribly oblivious to notice when a guy is hitting on you,”

You shook your head, still processing because the very notion of Steve being jealous of anyone was absurd, considering how attractive he was and the magnetic personality he possessed. He was seriously so gorgeous. Also, his confidence and charm was undeniable so it was hard to imagine someone like him feeling threatened by anyone else.

Robin chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, please. He’s low-key jealous all the time. Back in Chicago, he always gets weird if any guys talk to you for too long. He’ll just act like it’s no big deal, but I can always tell,”

You bit your lip, thoughts racing. “But he’s... he’s Steve. You know?” Why would he need to be jealous?

Robin sighed. “You know Steve used to be the guy who wanted to be liked by everyone, and then you came along, and everything changed. He only wanted you to like him. He talks about how crazy it is that you two are together, like he can’t believe his luck. But I think there’s a part of him that’s scared. Scared of losing you."

You blinked, trying to absorb everything Robin was saying. “Wait, does he really feel that way?”

“Yeah honestly, I’m kinda totally breaking best friend code telling you this. But, he’s like madly in love with you and I don’t blame him cause you’re hot as fuck,” Robin teased. “But sometimes, that makes him irrational. He gets lost in his own head, you know?” she said her tone more serious now.

You took a moment to consider this, the weight of Robin's words settling in. You felt the same way as him and it was funny to think you both had been struggling with the same insecurities. With a determined nod, you steeled yourself, excusing yourself from the conversation and making your way outside of the bar. As you approached, Steve didn’t seem to notice you at first; he was lost in thought, his brow furrowed and his fingers tapping restlessly on the hood of his BMW.

He turned to you, surprise flickering in his eyes for a split second. “Oh, hey,” he said.

“I need to tell you something,” you admitted, scratching the back of your neck as you looked away, unsure of how much to share.

His expression shifted slightly, a flash of concern crossing his face. “What do you mean?”

You sat on the hood of his car and pulled out your phone and dug into your pictures to find a private album. You found the picture you were looking for and turned the phone in his direction for him to see the picture.

Steve blinked at the screen, his eyes widening as he took in the image. The photo showed you in a stunning prom dress—a lavender dress that hugged your figure in all the right places, cascading in soft layers that swayed elegantly with every movement. Your hair was styled beautifully, and the softest smile adorned your lips.

"Wow," he breathed, seeming momentarily struck speechless. "You… you look amazing." A slight blush crept onto his cheeks as he met your gaze, and for a heartbeat, you both just stood there, staring at each other, the buzzing noise of the bar fading into the background.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice quiet. “But…I just... I never ended up going to prom.” You paused, feeling a rush of embarrassment wash over you as you met his gaze. “No one asked me, so I just… I pretended.”

His brow furrowed in confusion as his eyes scanned the image again. "What do you mean you pretended?"

“I let my parents take this picture,” you explained, motioning to the photo still displayed on the screen. “I told them I was going to meet my ‘date’ at his house and that the group was there. I was too embarrassed to admit to my parents that I hadn’t been asked and that I didn’t have anyone to go with. So, I just ended up going to my favorite movie theater in that dress instead with a friend and rewatched all the Scream movies back-to-back,” you laughed lightly, trying to shrug off the awkwardness but felt the heat rising in your cheeks.

“I can’t believe someone as amazing as you didn’t get asked to prom,” he said softly, his voice laced with sadness.

He stepped in between your legs and kissed you. His lips were soft, his kisses gentle. Your hands roamed his chest and shoulders as you kissed him back.  

You pulled back and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “Sometimes, I can’t believe I’m dating you, Steve. The truth is I still feel like that shy nerdy girl from high school, waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

His brow furrowed deeply, and he stepped closer, his gaze piercing yet gentle. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, the heat of embarrassment creeping up again as you struggled for the right words. “Like, every time I look at you, I think, ‘What’s the catch?’ It feels too good to be true sometimes. I mean even tonight at your reunion, I could see how girls looked at me… how even maybe Nancy looked at me,”

You took a breath, looking away, not wanting to see the disappointment in his eyes—or worse, the pity. But when you looked back, he was just watching you.

“You’re not the only one who feels that way,” he admitted. “From the first night I met you, I think I fell for you right then and there.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in the space between you.

“I was so nervous after that night. I didn't reach out for a whole week because I just... I don't know, I felt unworthy of your time. You’re so smart and beautiful, and I wasn’t even sure how I could measure up,” he confessed, running a hand through his hair, his familiar habit when he was anxious. “You’re so sure of yourself and it feels like you have your whole life figured out. I’m just… just some guy who just graduated college and got his first entry-level corporate job and I’m about to turn 29. I can’t shake the feeling that someone like you could do so much better.”

Your heart ached at his honesty. “Steve, no—” you started, but he held up a hand to stop you, his expression earnest.

“Let me finish,” he said gently, his voice steady. “Every time I see you with someone else, I can’t help but wonder if you’re looking for someone...better. Someone who can give you everything. I don’t want to be that guy who’s comparing himself to anyone else, especially not Jason Carver,” he growled, his voice laced with disdain. “But honestly, it’s just hard for me sometimes, especially when I know that fucking asshole is super successful and has done really well for himself,” Steve admitted, rolling his eyes.

“Steve, you’re not just ‘some guy’,” you insisted, grasping his hands within yours. “I’m so in love with you. You mean everything to me. When I’m with you, I don’t think about anyone else. You make me feel seen and heard in a way that I never thought I would experience,”

He opened his mouth to say something, but you pressed ahead. “And I want to emphasize how fucking proud I am of you. You got a fucking job with the Chicago Cubs, that’s amazing, handsome,” The corners of his mouth lifted as he processed your words.

“But that’s not why I love you. It’s about how you treat people, how you care about your friends, how you listen to me when I talk about my day. Every moment we spend together—every laugh, every time you’ve held my hand or made me feel safe—those are the things that matter to me. I fell for you Steve Harrington because you’re you.”

He looked down at your intertwined hands, a flicker of uncertainty still lingering in his demeanor. “I just…I guess I get scared when I see other guys looking at you,” You rolled your eyes, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“You don’t know how sexy you are,”

Your eyes widened, and you slapped him across the chest not believing him at all.   

“You heard me,” he said, leaning closer, his voice low and serious. “You are incredibly sexy, and you have this amazing energy that draws people in. If only you knew how many times I’ve caught others looking at you, too. It’s not just me who gets all fluttery at the sight of you,”

He let out a shaky breath. “I know how incredible you are. You’re the whole package, honey, and I’m just so afraid of losing you,”

The vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. “You’re not going to lose me. I’m right here,” you said, your voice steady.

“And the other shoe isn’t going to drop,” he vowed, giving your hand a light squeeze, feeling the warmth of his touch brought you a sense of calm. “I never want you to doubt how much you mean to me.”

You leaned in again, this time capturing his lips with yours in a softer, more lingering kiss. When you finally pulled away, he leaned in closer, resting his forehead against yours with a relaxed sigh.

He smiled for the first time in what felt like ages, the creases in his brow smoothing out. “Can we get outta here?” he asked, his thumb brushing softly against your knuckles.

“What about your friends?”

He brought your hands up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. “We can see them tomorrow. Right now, I wanna take my pretty girl some place special,”

xx

The night air was cool, and the scent of pine hung around you as Steve drove with the windows down.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your fingers entwined with his.

He grinned, that boyish charm still intact. “It’s a surprise.”

As you rounded a bend, the trees parted to reveal a hidden little spot—a secluded lake. Moonlight danced on the water, and the gentle lapping of waves filled the silence. Steve put the car in park.

“Wow,” you whispered, taking in the view. “This is beautiful.”

He nodded, his gaze fixed on you. “I used to come here during high school. It was my escape,”

You raised an eyebrow. “Escape from what? Homework? Your lady friends?” you teased.

He chuckled. “Both, actually. But mostly…from life. This place—it’s where I’d sit and think. About the future, about who I wanted to be.”

You nudged him playfully. “And did you find any answers?”

He shrugged. “Not all of them.

You smirked. “Is this your old hookup spot?”

He shook his head, that familiar hint of redness creeping onto his cheeks. “No, no,” he said, grabbing your hand. “I never brought anyone here.” He paused, sincerity in his eyes. “Even back in high school, I think I knew I only wanted to share this place with someone special. I guess I was waiting for you,”

You felt a rush of warmth spread through you at his words, your heart skipping a beat. “Oh, really? So I’m special enough to be your lake date?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Not just a lake date,” Steve replied smoothly, leaning a little closer. “This is a ‘meant-to-be-shared’ kind of place. And you definitely fit the bill.”

You feigned a dramatic gasp. “Well, I’m glad I passed your test. Are there any other hidden gems I should know about?”

He smirked. “Maybe… but I think I’ll keep some of them a secret for now.”

“Like how to get you to take off that shirt?” you shot back.

“Bold move,” he said, pretending to consider it, his fingers grazing your leg. “But, what if I told you I had something else in mind?”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Do tell,”

His hand found its way further up your thigh, fingers dancing along your skin, teasingly close to where you craved his touch the most and he groaned when he felt your wetness and how soaked you were, realizing you had skipped out on underwear this evening.

“You weren’t wearing any panties this entire time?” he asked.

“Easy access,” you said, and then he crushed his lips to yours as he slowly pushed a finger inside of you.

You moaned against his mouth, and he moved his finger in and out of your cunt while you begged for more. He inserted another finger and curled his fingers up causing you to gasp, shutting your eyes tight. “Oh Steve, that feels so good, please don’t stop,”

He looked smug, you knew he loved it when you begged. “God you’re so wet honey. Always so wet for me,”

You arched your back instinctively, craving the pressure of his fingers deep inside you.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he mumbled into your neck, his thumb now stroking circles on your clit.

“I’m yours,”

“What about this tight little pussy?” he asked, kissing along your neck and jaw, while he picked up the pace and added a third finger.

“All yours,” you sobbed out. You didn’t recognize the sound of your own voice, already getting hoarse

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he muttered against your mouth. “so fucking pretty. Jesus fucking Christ,”

You let out a cry into his lips as he continued to work your clit, more urgently now. You could hear the mess you were making on his hand. It was obscene and filthy.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight. I need to fuck you, but I need you to come for me first,”

“Steve,” you gasped, feeling the tight coil of pleasure building, ready to snap. “I’m so close.”

“Be a good girl and come for me, I want to watch you come.”

At his words, you clenched around his fingers and surrendered to the wave of ecstasy crashing over you. Your body tensed, and with a cry of his name, you shattered into a thousand pieces, pleasure coursing through you as he jerked his face towards you to meet your lips and plunged his tongue deep into your mouth.

He didn’t stop, riding out the waves with you, telling you how perfect you were for him, his fingers still moving deep inside of you until you came down from your high, panting and trembling.

“There we go honey, you did so good for me,” he cooed, kissing your forehead and removing his fingers from you. You whimpered at the feeling of being empty and watched him shove the fingers that had just been inside of you into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you.

“You know,” he murmured, his breath hot and inviting, “I think it’s time the dress comes off,” with a smirk, he slid the zipper down slowly, his eyes locked on yours.

“Me too,” you breathed, your heart racing.

As the dress loosened, the fabric slipped off your shoulders, falling softly into your lap. “Look at you,” he said, his gaze roaming over your bare skin. “My pretty girl,”

“You like what you see?” you teased.

“More than you can imagine,” he replied, his voice deepening as he leaned closer, brushing his lips against your shoulder.

With an intoxicating mix of urgency and tenderness, he guided you down to the back of the car, laying you back against the soft fabric of the car seat, as he shuffled out of his shirt, jeans and boxer briefs, and you threw your dress on the floor of his car as he lowered himself over you.

His lips traced a path from your shoulder down to your collarbone and then he slowly kissed a trail down your arm, his fingertips glided along your sides, sending shivers coursing through you. You arched slightly, wanting to feel more of him.

“Steve,” you whispered, your voice thick with desire, “I need you.”

His lips curled into a smirk as he positioned himself at your entrance, teasingly close, but not quite there yet. You could feel his warmth against you, the weight of him pressing you down softly. “Tell me again,” he commanded. “What do you want?”

“I want you, Steve. I need you inside me,” you breathed.

That was all it took. With a swift motion, he pushed into you, nice and slowly, filling you completely. A gasp escaped your lips as he fed you his cock and watched your face as you took him inch by inch.  The stretch ached but felt delicious all at the same time. He paused, letting you adjust, his forehead resting against yours, breathing heavily.

And in that secluded spot by the lake, with the stars as your witnesses, everything else faded away.

xx

Thank you so much for reading! If you like this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging.

Do these two deserve some drabbles or blurbs in the future?

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter sixteen ⭐︎ Hold me, love me, touch me, honey

Warnings: 18+ minors don’t interact! smut, unprotected sex, *cough* breeding kink *cough*, slight allusions to pregnancy? but not really. not proofread... ignore any mistakes please

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve's newfound feelings awaken something else in him when you reveal a little secret to him.

Word count: 7.9k+

Author’s note: I'm sorry for taking so long with this chapter, I hope it was worth the wait though and that you guys will enjoy it! shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping with this as always hehe ♡

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

The aching in your head is the first thing you feel when you wake from your deep sleep, the throbbing pain making you groan in displeasure. When you open your eyes, you quickly shut them again, it’s not even that bright in the room, the curtains are closed but the little light that peeks through is still enough to hurt your sensitive eyes. You scrunch your nose and raise your hands up towards your face, hiding your eyes with your palms, you roll over on your side and sink your face into Steve’s pillow. 

You can still taste the beer in your mouth and it brings back the nausea that has been haunting you for a while. 

You raise your head and touch the spot beside you, sliding your palm back and forth, only to find Steve’s side of the bed empty. 

He is downstairs, you can hear the radio, it’s not even loud but your ears could pick up any sound right now. 

You squint open your eyes and give yourself a moment to adjust to the light, you stretch your arms out and inhale his scent that lingers all around you, embracing the fluttering in your heart. You slowly push yourself up but keep the covers over your body, looking over at the nightstand on your side of the bed, a smile appears on your face when you see the glass of water and Advil along with a little note ‘drink up, blondie – and come downstairs for coffee and breakfast’. Your dry mouth is begging for the water, you scoot over and reach for it, gladly grabbing the painkiller too, you throw it into your mouth and wash it down with the water. 

From the corner of your eye, you see the clothes you wore the night before, the skirt he slid down your body, the top and the bra he took off for you before he helped you put on his shirt. 

Pictures of last night start flashing in your mind, you remember how he held your hand and how he kissed you, how he held you and refused to let you out of his sight. He was soft with you, gentle and sweet — how you always wished him to be with you. 

Was it because of how you acted? Because of the side you always refused to show? 

The alcohol in your system revealed something you were always afraid to show, a you that you’ve always kept sacred, because you were too afraid to show your real self to people, the gentle and caring side, the loving one that craved intimacy and affection so so badly. This side of you is too vulnerable and you don’t like it, you don’t like to be perceived that way. You’d rather let people keep seeing you like this — rough, mean and cold. They won’t know if you’re hurt, they won’t see through your act, they won’t see you, and you want to keep it that way. 

Embarrassment fills you the longer you think of how you were around him, how giddy and happy you were, how love guided you to kiss him and treat him as though he was your boyfriend when he wasn’t, when he isn’t, when he will never be. 

How will you face him after last night? 

What does he think of you now? 

Will he treat you differently now? 

Can you just pretend like you don’t remember a single thing and you can both go back to normal?

You throw the covers off your body and get up from the bed, making a trip to the bathroom to brush your teeth, wash your face and comb through your hair to make yourself look more presentable before you walk downstairs to join Steve in the kitchen. 

Your heart starts doing pitter patters the closer you get to him, feeling nervous to look into his eyes and trying to pretend like everything is normal between you both like his soft touches didn’t fill you with a sliver of hope – something that makes you feel like a fool, there is no hope, there shouldn’t be, but your stupid heart can’t understand that. 

When you walk into the kitchen and you look out the window, you realize that it’s not even that bright out, the sun is only peeking through the big clouds, drops of rain roll down the windows, and the faintest sound of thunder rumbles through the sky, overpowering the music playing from the radio. 

Goosebumps rise up on your skin, an unsettling feeling appears in your stomach but you’re not afraid, despite how uneasy you feel, you’re not afraid, because you aren’t alone, because you’re with him. 

It smells like coffee and waffles, the mixed scents making your lips curl into an excited smile. 

Steve is standing with his back to you, finishing up on the waffles that he’s already got a stacked up plate of, he is sipping on his coffee and you wonder how long he has been up for already. 

His head is slightly banging along to the music, his hair is still messy, uncombed and unstyled, he is wearing a white tank top and sweatpants, he looks so cozy – that’s how you love him the most. 

You take in a shaky breath and open your mouth to speak, to say good morning, to say something as the nervousness seeps in deeper but he beats you to it, as though he can feel your eyes on him, he turns around to face you, his hazel eyes lighten up at the sight of you, the smugness that sinks into his features makes you shrink into yourself a little, your cheeks heat up and you suddenly feel flustered. 

“Good morning, Blondie,” he smirks, eyeing you up and down as he takes you in, how you look in his shirt – he will never get tired of this sight. “How are you feeling?” 

“Morning,” you murmur as you make your way over to the coffee maker, you reach for one of the mugs in the cupboard and place it on the counter, pouring yourself some coffee, you take your time turning back to him as you try to calm your nerves and your blushing. “Good… surprisingly.”

Steve chuckles behind you, you hear his footsteps and how he opens the fridge, getting something out of it before closing it again. 

“Yeah, you were pretty drunk last night,” he clears his throat and you suddenly feel his breath on your shoulder and his hand on your waist as he places the creamer on the counter before you, “no hangover?” 

His hand lingers and he doesn’t step away just yet. 

“Thanks,” you murmur as you reach for the creamer and pour some into your coffee, “my head hurts a little but I feel fine.” 

Steve nods behind you, he squeezes your waist and fights the urge to just turn you around and steal your breath away by kissing you deeply. 

“Did you drink the water and the Advil I put on the nightstand?” 

He doesn’t remove his hand, even when you turn around to face him, he leaves it on your waist. 

You cup the mug with both hands and bring it up to your lips, taking a sip as you look up into his eyes. The burning in your cheeks is still there, the heat matching the one of the hot beverage in your hands. 

“Yeah, I did.” 

“Good,” he nods, eyeing your face slowly. 

He can tell that you’re flustered and shy even – that is a rare sight to see, it makes the fluttering in his heart so much stronger. 

You blink as you stare up at him and take another sip, squirming a little when he takes a step closer. 

Steve can’t help but chuckle to see you blushing, he brings his hand up towards your face, slipping his fingers through your hair before he tucks it behind your ear. 

“Do you want another kissy?” 

Your lips part and your eyes widen, more embarrassment rushes through you at his teasing. 

Steve chuckles again when you roll your eyes and groan. 

“Stop!” You whine, not knowing that this sound only makes him adore you even more. “I was so drunk!”

“Yeah? I couldn’t tell,” he snorts, shaking his head in amusement. 

“That was the alcohol talking,” you murmur, lying. 

“Was it?” He asks, furrowing his brows as he tilts his head to the side, adoringly so. “I don’t know, I really liked this Blondie. She was so cute and touchy.” 

Whether he’s teasing or mocking you, your heart doesn’t seem to care as it beats even faster in your chest. The thought that Steve could find you cute makes you feel giddy and it fills you with a sense of happiness only he can make you feel. 

You roll your eyes at him but he chuckles as a smile tugs at your lips. 

Steve’s hand moves from the side of your face to your shoulder and then to your waist again. 

“Don’t get me wrong, your mean side grew on me but you were so adorable last night.” 

Adorable. 

He is teasing you, you are sure that he is just teasing you, the smirk on his lips, the glowing mischief in his eyes gives him away. 

“Don’t forget your waffles,” you blurt out, not knowing what else to say to that. 

He huffs in amusement and squeezes your waist once more before he steps away from you, making his way back to the kitchen counter, he opens the waffle maker and takes out the last one, placing it on the plate before he turns his head to look at you. 

“Come on, I already set up the table.” 

You turn to look at the round kitchen table, seeing it set up just the way it was the first time he made you breakfast. 

Warmth blooms in your chest and your eyes soften. 

He held you in his arms when you fell asleep last night, he got up before you just to make you breakfast – your favorite kind too. 

Is he like that with everyone? 

Does he treat all his hookups like this? 

Does he make them breakfast too or hold them in his arms until they fall asleep?

Or are you the only one that gets all this? 

You don’t even know if he is seeing anyone, if someone else occupies your side of his bed when you don’t see each other. 

Your eyes follow him as he makes his way over to the table and places the plate full of waffles in the middle. 

The thought that someone else might get this too makes you feel uneasy, upset, and hurt. 

He looks at you with furrowed brows, looking as you stand there with a frown on your face, holding the mug against your chest as you stare at him. 

“Come here, your waffles are gonna get cold.” 

You blink, snapping out of the thoughts that leave you with a bitter taste on your tongue. 

You nod and step away from the kitchen counter, you hold the mug tightly in your hands as you make your way over to him. 

Steve pulls back the chair for you, waiting for you to take a seat. 

You try to hide the surprise and the blush on your face as you hide your face behind your hair and turn your back to him as you sit down but it doesn’t go unnoticed by him, he smiles to himself, adoring this shy side of you. 

“Eat, Blondie,” he murmurs, patting your shoulder before he walks around the table and takes the seat across from you, “we need to get some energy back in you.” 

“Yeah, I actually agree,” you chuckle, picking up a waffle for your fork, “I feel like there’s a huge hole in my stomach.”

“You need to eat more,” he says sternly. “You devoured that chicken sandwich last night.”

“Mhmm it was heavenly,” you nod and pour some syrup on your waffle, “especially after all the beers I’ve had.” 

Steve chuckles, picking up the bowl with strawberries and raspberries, he puts them on your plate, “you need some vitamins too.”

“Yes, mom.”

“Shut up,” he snorts. 

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, only the sound of the radio continues on. You eat your waffles and drink your coffees, sharing glances and sweet smiles, a few comments here and there, his foot touching your own under the table. This is nice. You could get used to this.

If only you knew that he feels the same. 

Steve watches you, how you comfortably sit here with him, enjoying the breakfast that he made for you, you’re much quieter than you were last night and he can’t help but miss the other side of you — the clingy and touchy one, the one that asked for kisses and even peppered his face in them. He wonders if you even remember any of it or the things you’ve said to him. You rambled so much, that you probably forgot about the comments you made. 

He takes a sip of his coffee and clears his throat, “do you remember what you said to me last night?” 

Despite remembering everything, you can’t help but panic slightly, wondering if there’s a small detail you can’t recall, that you might’ve said something you tried to keep secret, that you accidentally revealed your feelings, or even confessed your love for him. 

“Uh… I think I’ve said a lot,” you chuckle nervously, scratching the back of your neck as you straighten your back. 

He laughs and nods, “yeah you did, but you told me you had a surprise for me. What’s that about?”

The look on his face is a curious one, his head is tilted to the side, tapping his fingers against his mug. 

A surprise. 

Oh, you surely remember that and what you meant by ‘surprise’ and you can’t help but curse inwardly at your drunken self for thinking that it was a good idea to mention it as that. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks again and the nervousness inside of you returns once more. 

“Ah, right uh… it’s not exactly a surprise but uh…” you pause, not knowing how to start this conversation, sensing the awkwardness that is about to ruin this comforting moment already. 

He raises his brows at you, waiting for you to continue. 

You take a deep breath, breaking eye contact for a moment to look out the window. 

“Um, do you remember those three days we didn’t see each other before Vickie’s party?” You ask and look back at him. 

“Yeah.” 

“I went to the doctor one of those days…” 

His eyes widen a little, his heart skips a beat as some kind of hope swirls inside of him and a million questions start running through his mind. 

“Oh?” Is the only thing he can say as the excitement for something that probably doesn’t even exist starts building up. 

You bounce your knee and hold your mug tightly, blinking as you stare into his hazel eyes. 

“Yeah I um… I got an IUD.” 

Steve blinks a few times. 

“I’m sorry, what?” He asks in confusion, he expected something else. 

You huff, getting more and more nervous as each second passes. 

“An IUD… Birth control? Didn’t you learn that in school Lego Head?”

He nods quickly and furrows his brows again, “I know what it is, I’m just wondering why.”

The heat in your cheeks intensifies and suddenly glows so hotly, embarrassment flushes through you and as he stares at you, completely lost and confused, you feel like a deer caught in headlights. 

You had never used birth control before him, or even thought about it, you would’ve never gone without protection with anyone else, birth control or not but with Steve, it’s different. You want him. You want to feel him. You want him closer and more intimately. That one time wasn’t enough, how could it ever be? 

But while you kept thinking about this, wishing for a repeat, he clearly didn’t want the same. 

“J-Just in case,” you mumble with a shaky voice, not realizing just how nervous and small your voice sounds. 

The gears in his head start turning, though very slowly and he is still staring with parted lips and widened eyes. 

He knows what you mean by that, he knows what you want and he wants it too, he’s been wanting it so badly, he’s been thinking about it day and night, when you’re with him or not — he wants you, he wants to feel you again and again. 

He just can’t believe you fucking said that.

You blink and look down, clearing your throat as you close your eyes, feeling regret settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Just, forget I said that, it's just another measure of contraceptive, we don't need um — you know to lose the other, just to make sure you know! The IUD might fail…” You clear your throat, knowing that an IUD's failure is only... like 2%. 

Your heart starts beating wildly in your chest and you feel the need to escape this awkward situation and him. 

“I uh, I’m gonna get changed and go home… and we can talk later,” you mumble and get up from the chair, not looking into his eyes, “thanks for breakfast…” 

You rush out of the room and away from him before he can even react or say a single world. You hurry up the stairs and walk back into his room, gathering your clothes as quickly as you can. 

“You’re so stupid,” you murmur under your breath, cursing at yourself. 

What were you thinking? That he wanted you like this? That he would care and get excited about something that wouldn’t mean anything to him?  

You don’t listen to the footsteps in the hallway or the door that opens behind you but you yelp in surprise when you feel his hands on your waist and he turns you around, ripping the skirt from your hands that you were just about to put on, he throws it back on the bed and cups your cheeks, nearly making you gasp from how dark and lust filled his eyes are. 

“You can’t just tell me that you’re letting me fuck you raw and then run out on me.” 

“I—“ 

With his lips against your own, he cuts you off roughly, not letting you finish whatever you were about to say as he kisses you with desperation in his touch as his hands move from your cheeks down to your waist and he grips it tightly. 

You whimper in need, throwing your arms around his neck, you ignore the surprise and the pounding in your chest. You deepen the kiss and bury your fingers in his messy hair. 

His lips taste like coffee and the sweetness from the waffles, his chest is pressed against yours tightly, so tightly that you can feel the beating of his own heart. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you feel him against your stomach, making you squeeze your legs together as you feel heat pooling in your lower stomach. 

And just like that, all your worries, all your overthinking disappear into nothing as pleasure takes over your body. 

The kiss is messy, his lips smack against yours continuously, his hands grope your body over his shirt that he wants to get rid of. 

Steve always feels eager and desperate to fuck you, to strip you off your clothes and taste you, to pleasure you with his tongue and his fingers, to take you in a way no one else can but he isn’t sure if he ever felt this kind of need before. He feels as though his skin is on fire, the burning seeping through his flesh and only you can mend it. 

His dick strains against his boxers and his sweatpants, almost hurting from how hard it is and he can’t help but growl against your lips when you slide your hand down his body and start to palm him over his clothes. 

He slips his hands under your shirt, touching your hot skin with his cold fingers. 

The sound of your whimper only pushes him further into you, gaining dominance in the kiss as his tongue moves against yours eagerly. 

He pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, “you drive me crazy, Blondie.” 

You can’t hold back the whine that falls from your lips, you almost feel embarrassed for what he turns you into every time he touches you. 

His eyes are dark, almost unrecognizable, he looks hungry, like he’s starving, for you. And it does little to mend your own hunger. 

He grabs your waist tighter and picks you up, catching you off guard when he throws you on his bed, making you bounce on the mattress. 

Steve makes quick work of getting rid of his tank top before he crawls on top of you, spreading your thighs with his knee and reaching for the hem of your shirt, he practically rips it off of your body and exposes your bare chest to him, his eyes grow even darker in the process. 

He grabs your boobs with his large hands, pinching your nipples, he leans down and hovers over you. 

“Steve!” You moan, lips parting as you chase after his lips. 

“Keep moaning like that for me,” he murmurs before he smashes his lips back against yours, kissing you just as roughly as before. 

You close your eyes and reach for his shoulders, holding tightly onto him as you move your lips against his, melting into the kiss. 

You don’t even bother to try and fight for dominance, you won’t win, not today. Steve is in control, and you don’t mind, not for a single second. The pace of the kiss, the touch of his hands, his moans, and the roughness of his lips turn you into a desperate mess as you arch your back and lean into his touch, trying to grind against him. 

Your panties are already damp, the material clinging to your pussy and you just want him to rip them off you just as he did with the shirt. 

As though he can read your mind, he slips his hand down your stomach, his fingers reach the flimsy material that still covers you. He presses your hips down before he touches you the way you’ve been whining for. He groans into the kiss when he feels how wet you are, knowing that he is the cause of it. 

“Is that all for me?” He asks, not moving away from your lips, he rubs circles on your clothed clit, making you whine for more. 

“You know it is!” You don’t feel ashamed to admit it, you don’t bother to hide something that is so obvious anyway. 

He chuckles in satisfaction as he moves his middle and ring finger lower, teasing your entrance. 

“D-Don’t tease me,” you beg, pleading with your eyes as you dig your fingers into his shoulders.

“You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you?” He smirks, pecking your lips as he moves your panties to the side. “So desperate that you want me to fuck you raw, huh?” He asks as he slips his fingers through your wet folds, gathering your slick and bringing his digits up to your clit. 

“Yes!” You whine as you buck your hips up, grinding against his fingers. 

“You want me to cum inside of you again, don’t you? Want me to fill you up, honey?” He asks as he continues to tease your clit before he slips two fingers into your dripping hole. 

You suck in a sharp breath, closing your eyes as a loud moan escapes you, he catches it with his lips, smashing his mouth back against yours, stealing your breath with the kiss and the pace of his fingers as he starts to drag them in and out of you, keeping your legs spread with his left hand. 

He lets you adjust for a moment, spreading you open with his long fingers, he kisses you deeply and grinds against your thigh, getting desperate for relief himself. 

The touch of your hand and the feeling of your lips against his own makes his heart flutter and his dick twitch in anticipation. 

This moment is all so driven by lust but he can no longer deny the way you make him feel, the way he needs to feel you close otherwise he might go insane, he wonders if you feel the same, if that is the reason why you want him in a whole new way. 

You clench around his fingers and move your hips, wanting more, wanting him deeper. You mewl against his lips when he curls his fingers inside of you and his thumb presses against your aching clit. 

“Do you hear that?” He asks breathlessly, pecking your lips over and over again. “You’re dripping for me.” 

Steve admires the scrunch of your nose and the furrowed brows, the desperate look in your eyes as you look into his. Your skin is flushed, your chest is rising up and down heavily, your nipples hardened from the coldness in the room and the pleasure in your bones, you’re getting wetter and tighter around his fingers. 

“But you want more, right?” He asks and leans down to wrap his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it, “you want me to breed you, don’t you?” 

His words are driven by lust, a part of him he doesn’t recognize shining through, surprising both you and himself. 

You gasp, your cheeks flushing even deeper as the heat rages underneath your skin. You feel too shy to admit it but this might be exactly what you wanted. 

You liked it when he fucked you against his door, when he came inside of you and his cum rolled down your thighs, you loved it even, despite how messy it was, you loved it because it was him. 

You nod and shut your eyes again, your mouth waters at the feeling of his fingers hitting your g-spot and you arch your back in pleasure as your hands find their way back to his hair, pulling and playing with it, making him match his moans with yours. 

“P-Please, Steve…” You whimper as you feel the fire building up in your stomach, beginning to crash over you, “I’m so close.”

Steve starts kissing your chest and making his way up to your neck, tilting your head to the side to suck a mark onto your delicate skin as he continues to fuck you, faster and rougher, moaning at the squelching sounds and your pretty whimpers. 

“Yeah?” He breathes, peppering kisses along your neck and your jaw, “are you gonna be a good girl for me and cum around my fingers?” 

“Yes!” 

Your breathing gets heavier, your heart starts pounding faster and you can’t help but reach for his face, dragging him back to you so you can slam your lips back against his as your fingers dig into his hair roughly when he rubs your clit faster, throwing you over the edge with his touch. 

You kiss each other feverishly, you scrunch your eyes shut, letting the pleasure take control, letting him slam his fingers in and out of your pussy, causing tears to build up in your eyes from the hot intensity. 

“Let go for me,” he whispers against your lips, “cum for me.” 

One more thrust and a deeper swipe against your clit has you crying out his name in pleasure and this time, he lets you shut your legs around his arm, though that doesn’t stop him from moving his fingers still. 

Stars flash in your vision and the wind gets knocked out of you, the overwhelming high crashing over your body. 

“S-Steve,” you whimper. 

“Yes?” He kisses your lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“You!” 

“Me?” He smirks, licking his lips as he looks down, watching the way your thighs are shaking already. “How do you want me? Tell me, honey.”

You are so deep in your pleasure, no shame, no shyness exists for you in this very moment. You are so eager to feel him the way you’ve been craving him for weeks now. 

“I want your cock, Steve–” You whine, tugging at his hair. “Please fuck me!” 

He chuckles darkly, eyes growing five shades darker, something in him awakens, something that had never been there before, not even the night of Vickie’s party. 

He pulls his fingers out of you, fighting the urge to stick them into your mouth and make you lick and suck on them. He grabs your hips and manhandles you on your stomach, knocking the breath out of you again. He slaps your ass and gropes it roughly. 

“Stevie!” 

“Get on all fours for me.” 

You whine, gripping the sheets underneath you tightly as you look back at him over your shoulder, nearly pouting at him but he only slaps your ass again. 

“C’mon Blondie, wanted me to breed you, we gotta do it the right way.” 

His fingers are still coated with your slick as he pushes his sweatpants and boxers down, making his dick slap against his stomach, pre cum rolls down his length, his tip is red, he is aching for you and twitching in anticipation, knowing that he gets to fuck you without a condom.  

Steve expects you to push yourself up on your hands and knees but instead, you worsen his hunger by pressing your front against the mattress and pushing your ass up, presenting yourself to him. 

“Holy fuck,” he curses, biting back the growl that threatens to fall from his lips as he takes in the sight of you. Your pussy glistens, the arch in your back is deep, your ass up high and you look over your shoulder again, giving him a pout and desperate eyes as you beg him to fuck you and fill you up. 

The hunger in him is insatiable, he already knows it, he will never get enough of this, he will never get enough of you and he doesn’t mind, not even after last night’s realization and how easy it could now be for you to crush his heart — it’s yours now. 

He wishes that he could take a picture of this and keep it in his wallet. 

He moves closer to you, grabbing your ass and sliding his palms over your cheeks before he grips your hip tightly, slipping his already soaked fingers through your folds, he gathers your slick and uses it as lubricant to stroke his dick before he presses himself against you, pressing his lips together as he looks down at your pussy. 

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” he murmurs as he teases you with his tip, circling it around your dripping entrance, moaning at the sight of it. 

“P-Please,” you whimper, pressing your ass back against him, prompting him to hold your hip even tighter as he slips his length through your wet folds, continuing to tease you and himself.  “Just fuck me already!” 

The tone in your voice is nowhere near demanding, it’s anything but that, you're whiny and desperate – you are showing a sight only he is allowed to see. 

The excitement is burning in him, his own desperation eating at him. Seeing you like this makes him want to do things he has never done before. His fingers dig into your flesh and he sucks in a sharp breath as he slowly pushes into you. 

Your name falls from his lips in a moan, his eyelashes flutter as the pleasure finally envelopes him. With one hand on your hip and the other now grabbing your ass, he inches inside of you, groaning at the sight of your puffy lips around his length. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, gripping the sheets tightly and shutting your eyes as you feel him splitting you open. 

“You’re taking me so fucking good, baby,” he praises you, smacking his palm against your cheek once again, making you jerk and gasp in pleasure. “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” 

Your stomach flutters at his words, as your walls do around his length, causing him to moan as he pushes in deeper and deeper until he’s buried inside of you, completely. 

“Y-Yes, Steve!” You cry out. “I’m your good girl!”

You are both doing things and saying words you never thought you’d ever use, whether it’s the pleasure that is controlling you both, the desperation or something in the atmosphere but neither of you care, this is nice, this is perfect. 

“That’s right,” he growls as he pulls out and slams back in, making you cry out his name. 

Steve starts rolling his hips, roughly and desperately, picking up the pace with every thrust, making you both moan and whimper in pleasure. His cock hitting deep in every right spot, making you drool already. 

You hold onto the sheets, your eyes roll back as filthy sounds fall from your lips. You want to look back and watch him, see how good he looks fucking you like this but you find no energy to lift yourself up or turn your head. Your chest is pressed against the mattress beneath you, Steve’s hands feel so right on your hips, molding into your skin so perfectly. Waves of pleasure crash over you, making you arch your back even further, giving him an even deeper angle. 

You gasp in surprise, eyes shooting open when his large palm smacks against your flesh again. 

“You’re so filthy, honey,” Steve moans, his eyes nearly roll back as he feels your tight walls clench around him, prompting him to hold you tighter and fuck you harder, snapping his hips against your ass. “Letting me fuck you like this, wanting me to cum in this tight little pussy.” 

You feel his throbbing length, the veins on his cock, his balls slapping against your sensitive skin, the roughness of his touch and the eagerness in his voice – it overwhelms you in the best way possible, especially when you feel him growing more and more desperate the closer he gets to his high. 

“Y-Your cock feels so good!” You whimper, your head falling and your eyes closing, tears slipping from your eyes. 

“Yeah?” He breathes as he looks down at the way he is slamming in and out of you, his length glistening with your slick, your wet walls hugging his dick perfectly. You keep clenching around him, making him throb and twitch inside of you, making him whine in a way he isn’t sure he ever did before – but one thing is for sure, Steve had never felt anything like this before, and he knows he never will again after you. “Your pussy feels like fucking heaven.”

Your walls flutter around him, drool slips past your lips and down on the rumpled bed sheets, you can feel your second high approaching, you can feel the tension in your stomach, the ache in your clit. 

Steve fucks you mercilessly, dragging you back and forth on the mattress as though you are his personal fucktoy. And for a moment, you both don’t share any words, only your moans of desperation and need fill the room, the wet sounds of his dick slamming into your weeping pussy, the bed creaking beneath you, and the occasional smacks against your ass. 

His hair clings to his sweaty forehead, his cheeks are glowing red, and he doesn’t know where to look, he wants to see your face, he wants to keep staring at the way his dick disappears into you – this feels surreal, like it’s something that came straight out of his dreams. 

He feels the need to make you scream, so he slides his hand under you, his fingers finding your clit with ease, he begins to play with your sensitive nub as he changes his pace to slower but deeper and harsher. 

You gasp and twitch beneath him, trying to push yourself up only to fall back down again, the sight of it making him chuckle darkly. 

“Steve!” You scream out, feeling just how sensitive you are when he rubs your clit faster. “I-I’m so close!”

He can’t help himself when he leans down and presses his lips against your shoulder blades, murmuring against your skin, “do it, cum around my cock, baby.” 

Stars and tears blur your vision, the feeling of his lips on your skin only adding to the pleasure, the softness of it a stark contrast to the harshness of his thrusts, the sweet nickname and the swipe against your clit throwing you over the edge completely and you’re suddenly cumming and screaming out for him. 

“B-Baby,” he murmurs in a mix of a whimper and a growl, hands flying back to your hips, he grabs you tightly as he feels your walls clinging to him, making him shudder. “I’m gonna… fuck…” He groans, going to pull out, out of instinct. “I need to–”

“Cum inside of me, Stevie!” You sob as his fingers still move against your clit. “Please, please, please!” 

He can’t even control it, your words hit him so hard and he suddenly cums, hard. He spills inside of you with a loud moan and a whimper of your name, he paints your walls white and he keeps moving, even as his eyes roll back and he grows sensitive. All of this turns him on even more, not even after he reaches his high, if anything, his hunger is even more insatiable now. 

He slows his thrusts and he breathes heavily, his eyes are still clouded with lust, moans still falling as he takes in the sound of your whiny whimpers. 

Steve licks his lips as he pulls out after a moment, despite not wanting to but the vision in front of him is so worth it, his cum leaks out of your pussy and starts to roll down your thighs. He doesn’t know what gets over him when an animalistic growl falls from his lips and he gathers his cum with his fingers and pushes it back inside of you. 

“Don’t wanna let any of it go to waste,” he smirks when you whine even louder. 

You’re surprised and incredibly turned on by his action, you have to press your shaking thighs together, the ache in your center growing bigger despite the two orgasms you just had.

“Steve…”

Steve is staring at your pussy, at the way you’re sucking his fingers in, at the mess he made of you, how can he not grow hard all over again? 

“God, that’s so fucking hot,” he murmurs under his breath. 

He pushes his fingers in and out of you, admiring the way he pushes his cum deeper back inside of you – somehow the thought of what could happen if you didn’t have an IUD turns him on even more. Steve keeps going, using the same slow pace for a while, getting lost in you before he snaps back as your whimper tears him back into reality – but he wants more, he needs more, and he decides to keep you here with him, all day.

“I got you,” he whispers, pulling his fingers out and cleaning them off on his messed up sheets before he starts kissing up your body, letting his lips linger on your shoulder before he wraps his arm around you and flips you over on your back. 

His lust filled eyes intensify when he sees the tears pooling on your lower lash line, the needy look in your own eyes. He cups your cheek and presses his lips against yours for a short kiss, craving more of you. 

You reach your arm out weakly, and kiss him back, savoring this moment for as long as you can before he pulls away again and collapses on the bed beside you, he places his hand on your thigh, keeping it there as he starts breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. 

Silence falls over the both of you, you stare up at the ceiling, too speechless to speak, too stunned with what just happened. 

His fingertips stroke your skin, your heart is pounding in your chest, your legs quivering as his cum leaks out of you, making you press your thighs together. 

You can’t believe that you would ever be turned on by something like this, that you’d ever be here, that you’d ever do something like this with him. 

You want more and more. 

You blink, a lazy smile tugging at your lips, the fluttering in your heart and stomach taking over again. 

“So…” Steve mumbles, turning his head to look at you, to admire your beautiful side profile, “can we discard the condom from now on?” 

“Only if you wrap it up for… others,” you mumble, wincing at your own words as you don’t want to ruin the moment for yourself by thinking of this. 

Steve furrows his brows, smile falling a little. 

You think that there are others? 

You think that he could even think of being with someone else, let alone like this? 

He squeezes your thigh reassuringly, “there are no others, don’t worry about it.” He says softly. 

Your features soften and a weight falls off your shoulders and your heart, and still you can’t help but feel surprised about his confession. 

“You are the only one, Blondie.” 

He wants you dead. 

You are so sure of it, Steve Harrington wants you dead. 

Why else would he say such words to you? 

“O-Oh?” 

Steve is so in bliss, he doesn’t even notice the blush in your cheeks and the quivering tone in your voice.

“Yeah, and what about you?” 

You turn your head to look at him, you lock your eyes with his. 

What about you? 

You can never touch another man again, that is for sure. No matter what the outcome of this thing between you will be, you’re ruined, utterly ruined. 

You blink, heat flushing over your body the longer you look at him, at his messy hair that you always want to bury your fingers in, the hazel in his eyes that is now your favorite color, his puffy lips that you want to kiss, moles you want to count and trace with the tips of your fingers. 

God, he is beautiful. 

“There are no others for me either,” you whisper, feeling exposed and vulnerable to admit it to him. 

The smile that appears on his face catches you off guard, he seems… happy about it? 

And he is, he truly is. 

Steve doesn’t want you to be with anyone else, he doesn’t want you to see other men, kiss them or let them touch you the way he is allowed to. He wants to be the only one for you, he wants to be your only one. 

He squeezes your thigh again, scooting closer to you, he eyes your face and lets them linger on your lips. 

“Guess we’re exclusive then huh?” He asks with a smirk on his lips. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, hope flickering inside of you, the anxiety you felt over thoughts of him with other girls diminishing just like that. 

You try to act normal, like you aren’t fazed by his words, like your heart didn’t burst, like this isn’t anything special. 

You clear your throat, “seems like it.” 

He chuckles, hiding the happiness that flutters in him. 

This is what he wants, this is what he has been craving for a while now, to have you all to himself, to be the only to touch you, to taste you, to fuck you, to fill you up and claim you as his own. 

“You got anything to do today, Blondie?” 

“I uh… I was gonna meet up with Eddie—“

“Cancel it.” 

You raise your brows in surprise, confusion flashes in your features but your heart slips a beat when you see the darkening in his eyes again and the feeling of his hand gripping you tighter and harder. 

“What?”

He moves closer and closer until his lips are on your jaw and he tilts your head to the side so he can kiss your neck, nibbling at your skin and pressing his hand against your sensitive core again. 

“Cancel. It.” He rasps into your neck. 

A gasp tears from your lips when he slips his fingers back into your pussy, morning at the feeling of his cum inside of you. 

“You don’t need anyone but me today,” he whispers as he presses another kiss against your neck and curls his fingers inside of you. 

You bite your lip and moan when he spreads your legs with his free hand, his long fingers pushing deeper into you — you are so sensitive, so overstimulated but just like him, you can’t get enough, you want more. 

“Steve…” 

“Mhmm.” He murmurs against your neck, peppering kisses along your skin, “I know, baby. I’m gonna take good care of you.” 

And taking good care he did. He fingered you in bed until you saw stars, mesmerized by how his own spent worked as lube, mixed with your own juices. You felt exhausted after that, so he drew a bath for you and even helped you wash your hair, knowing your limbs were all tired out.

But he couldn’t have enough of you. Not when you got into his mustard sweater because you felt a little chilly, leaving your legs bare. He wanted to give you more time to relax but he couldn’t help himself while making lunch, so he had to bend you over the kitchen counter to make you scream again.

Overstimulation was very much present, to the both of you, but you couldn’t stop. You wanted to feel him and he wanted to feel you. It felt intimate, and private, but most of all… it felt… hopeful.

Hopeful that, even if you spent a whole day fucking, that this new development means something. Hopeful that this exclusivity is real and will go on until he decides to actually take the leap, to actually fight for what he wants again. Hopeful that he feels the same as you do. That you two would not do this with anyone else, but with each other.

But those thoughts can be for another day. For tomorrow. Maybe the day after, because right now, as he hugs you in the middle of the night, laying in bed, dinner devoured, and one last round of feeling one another, you feel your heart be calm for the first time in a while. 

Because for the first time ever you actually feel it. Genuine. True. It is no longer a mere word that you discard, no longer a word that sits in the back of your mind, thinking you would be so stupid to actually let yourself feel that.

But this night, you swore you felt something at the top of your head that you are sure you didn’t make it up. You felt a press at the top of it. A kiss. A good night kiss from his part as he kept rubbing circles on your lower back. This is not the same Steve from a month ago. This is not the same you from a month ago. You two are not the same as a month ago. 

So you let yourself feel it. Embrace it. And maybe… maybe it will grow more at some point that it might give you the courage to take that definite step.

You felt confident.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

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

For A Good Time Call! || Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 14.6k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Phone Sex Hotline Operator!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (phone sex, m & f masturbation (including pillow humping & sex toys), f!receiving oral sex, p in v sex), language, idiots in love, mutual pining, porn WITH plot

Summary: In the Summer of 1985, Steve's social standing is at an all time low. In an act of sheer, pathetic desperation, he calls a phone sex hotline. Little does he know, his dream girl from the hotline is just an escalator away.

Steve Harrington wasn’t the kind of guy who did this. He repeated it in his head as he scribbled down the phone number— fed straight to him from a local late-night advertisement. For a good time call!

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant. And he wasn’t exactly able to ignore the way his dick twitched in his boxers as the commercial showed pretty girls twirling phone lines around manicured fingers, pretty smiles on their faces, eyes sultry and staring right through him. 

Plus, he wasn’t actually going to call. He was just… keeping the number for his records. He’d just put it in his Rolodex and forget about it. 

A week later, and he decidedly hadn’t forgotten about it. In fact, with the house empty and playboys not cutting it, it’s all he could think about. 

For a good time call. He wanted to have a good time. It had been a while since he had a good time— his stupid Scoops Ahoy uniform wasn’t exactly bolstering his natural charm. Robin could say what she wanted, but he was charming and fun and everything people usually want in a boyfriend. He was just… going through a rough patch. 

He retrieved his Rolodex and hurriedly flipped through, trying to remember where he’d hidden the number. Definitely not around his boss. And not around Nancy either. Tucked between Tommy and a past hookup, he found it. 

He set up his pillows behind his back and got comfortable before dialing the number with uncharacteristically sweaty hands. He was cooler than this was all making him seem. He was the playboy of Hawkins High— of Hawkins in general. Phone sex was nothing. 

As he dialed the number, he prepared to turn on his charm. Instead, he was led to a generic call-center script, which, after being carefully followed based on his wants and desires, took him to billing. 

“It’s a flat rate of twenty for your first ten minutes. If you finish before then, it’s still twenty, alright?”

He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“After that, it’s fifty cents per minute. An hour session will run you about $55.” Oh. It certainly wasn’t cheap. He’d spent less on dates before. “Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah,” he said after a brief pause, his mind taking a while to catch up. “Do you need my credit card?”

By the time billing was over, his anticipation had tangled his stomach into knots. He glanced at the clock, wondering if those ten minutes would fly past him as fast as he thought they would. The line trilled as he waited to be connected to his partner for the night. Jenny. Like the song.

That song was gross, anyway. But how could he say anything about it now?

The ringing stopped, and he could hear the crackle of a quiet line on the other side, the rustle of movement. Did he need to say hi first? Was trying to start a conversation weird?

“Hi,” he said, and he wondered how he could make one word sound so utterly stupid. “Jenny, right?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed. He could picture you so clearly, despite knowing nothing— one of those pretty girls in the commercials, laying on your belly on a frilly pink bed, fingernails and toenails painted a shiny red, twirling the phone cord around your finger. “What should I call you?”

He swallowed. “Do people usually give you fake names?”

“Sometimes,” you replied. “It’s not about what other people do, baby. It’s about what you want. Do you want me to call you by a fake name?”

He wrinkled his nose. What was the worst thing that could come from a stranger knowing his first name? “No, that sounds awful. No offense.” You laughed, and he felt himself relax. “I’m Steve H—“ He cleared his throat. “Just Steve.”

“Well, I’m glad that I get to talk to you tonight Steve,” you said, and just the sultry timbre of your voice made his stomach do flips. “I’m guessing this is your first time?”

He furrowed his brows. “I’m not a virgin.”

“No, baby. I mean it seems like it’s your first time calling a hotline like this.” His face burned hot as he fumbled his way through answering, oh, yeah, I guess that’s right. “So, sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what you want?”

“Uh…” he paused, trying to think of a more polite way of saying to cum while a pretty girl talks to me. “I guess I’ve just been lonely.”

“Poor baby,” you said, and he was shocked that you didn’t have even a hint of amusement or mirth when you said it. “You want me to take care of you? Help you forget?”

His breath caught in his throat, stealing his response. His dick twitched, already half-hard and sensitive. All he could manage was a tiny whimper of, “Mhmm.”

“What do you usually think about when you’re touching yourself?” You asked, and the lack of shame in your voice made heat flare in his cheeks. He’d had some shameless hookups, but most of the girls he slept with didn’t like to talk about it. “Like, what’s your favorite fantasy, Steve?”

It was embarrassing. Mortifying, actually. It was basically the plot of a bad porno or a letter to Penthouse. 

Usually, it started by his pool. And a girl was there, wearing a cute, but ultimately tiny, bikini. The girl didn’t really matter. Well, she did, but it wasn’t about who she was. She could have been a Playmate of the Month, or a movie star, or a girl he was crushing on and wanted to ask out. All that mattered for the sake of the fantasy, was that she was pretty, had nice tits, and wanted him. 

“Does that make me awful?” He asked, pausing mid-description to gauge your perception of him. You laughed on the other end of the line. 

“God, Steve,” you said with thinly veiled amusement. “You think I give a personality and backstory to all of the people I fantasize about fucking?”

It made him feel a little better.

Anyways, there was something about summertime that just made sense to him. Skin all but steaming in the heat, the oiled up glow that came from sweaty skin. Wearing as few clothes as possible so you didn’t overheat. 

You gave a nervous laugh— breathy and sweet— on the other end of the line. “You’re really good at setting the scene, Steve.” He liked to be specific. He wanted to think about tiny details like the salty taste of skin or hair that smelled like chlorine and salt. “What’s next?”

She always started by laying on her stomach, the ties of her bikini undone so she didn’t get unsightly tan lines. She would peer at him over her shoulder with wide, innocent eyes while she asked if he could apply a bit more sunscreen on her back where she couldn’t reach. 

So he straddled her thighs, her skin burning up under his hands as he rubbed in the freezing cold sunscreen. Goosebumps would break out along her arms, and she’d have to arch away from the sensation, pushing her ass against him. 

“Are you hard already?” You asked, and his cheeks burned hot. 

“Like…” He glanced at his lap, where his cock was already straining against the fabric of his boxers. “In the fantasy or right now?”

“Is the answer the same for both?”

He let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“Keep going.”

He was already impatient. Skipped right to the kissing and cut out the context and actions that led to it. Did it matter? The bikini top fell onto the ground, and she was on top of him, tits pressed into his sun-warmed chest, tongue licking into his mouth. 

God, he fucking loved kissing. He’d missed it so much since he’d graduated and his social clout had depleted to fuck all. There had been dates, and messy, slow makeouts in the back of his car since walking the stage, but not one since his first shift at Scoops Ahoy. It was killing him.

She felt so good in his lap— so warm and heavy. He could have stayed like that forever— trapped beneath a pretty girl with her tongue down his throat. But he wanted more— he always wanted more. 

He wanted more then. As he relayed his fantasy to this stranger in painstaking detail, he ached for more. His hand was flat on his tummy, and he shivered as he slipped it beneath the band of his boxers to take his cock into his hand. He groaned, the back of his head knocking against the wall.

“God, you’re cute,” your voice was so pretty. He throbbed in his grip, making him exhale a shuddering breath. “It’s okay, Steve. You can keep touching yourself while you talk to me. I want you to.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, his voice broken by a tiny whimper. “I don’t have to.”

“I’m sure, baby,” you insisted. “What do you do next, hm? I’m on top of you, kissing you nice and slow, grinding my hips against yours because I just can’t help myself. Tell me what you’re going to do to me.”

“I’d—“ He swallows hard, eyes shut tight. “I’d want to taste you.”

In the fantasy, his hands gripped the back of your thighs, moving you up his body so you were just above his mouth. He was suave and sexy. He’d pull the bow at your hip with his teeth so your swim bottoms fell off like they were nothing. 

And it would feel so comfortable beneath you— so natural for him. He’d just barely have to lean forward to have his mouth on you, already wet so he could taste you on his tongue. He’d moan at your taste— he fucking loved the way pussy tasted, even if he got shit for it in the locker room when he admitted it— and pull you down onto his mouth so he could get impossibly closer. 

It would be messy— a mix of spit and slick on his mouth and chin, making the tip of his nose shine. He’d spend as long as he wanted beneath you, pulling every noise he could from your lips, trapped between your thighs. He wouldn’t stop until you came— once at a minimum, more if he was feeling greedy.

“All this attention on little old me,” you teased. “Would you let me take care of you? I could slip off those swim trunks of yours and make you feel good.”

He had set a steady pace— hand gliding up and down his length as his fantasy continued to evolve. “Yeah,” he managed, but his voice came out strangled and desperate. “You’d put your hand down my shorts and tease me. Your hand would feel so good. Warm and soft. You’d, uh, tell me how big I am, how you wanted to feel me stretch your uh— your—.”

“My what, baby?” Your voice dripped with amusement and mirth. “My pussy?”

“Fuck.” It came out with an exhale, his heart hammering.

“You like it when girls say dirty things to you, Steve?” You asked, and he could hear your smirk. “You want me to beg for your cock so deep inside of me that I feel you in my stomach? Or tell you how warm and wet and tight I feel around my fingers?”

Steve groaned, throbbing in his grip as he worked himself faster. “Fuck, are you really?”

“Mhmm,” you replied. “Think about how good I’d feel when you finally let yourself fuck me. You were such a gentleman first, but you don’t have to be with me. I want to make this all about you.”

But he was a gentleman. Of course he wanted to get his dick wet and et cetera, but that wasn’t really why he liked sex. He liked making people feel good all because of him— hearing the pretty noises they made, watching their initial shyness melt away into unabashed desire. 

A lot of the time (most of the time), he felt like a huge fuck-up. Abysmal grades (well, more around average), not good enough for sports scholarships, basically every bit the son that his parents didn’t want to have. Who could really blame him for relishing in the times when he could be good and impressive to someone other than himself?

Whatever. If he thought about that train of thought for more than, like, ten seconds, he’d lose his hard-on and probably start crying into the receiver and spilling all of his life’s worst moments. He really couldn’t imagine anything more pathetic than that. 

So he thought about something else. 

He thought about how he’d lay you down on a beach towel, warmed in the sun, cradled by plush grass beneath it. He’d feel awkward about shucking off his swim trunks— he always hated undressing because it felt so awkward. But you’d look at him like he was the most attractive guy in the whole world. 

He was a sap, what could he say? He would hold your hand too, squeezing it with his as he lined up with your entrance. You’d be so wet that it felt slick and he’d feel proud just knowing he did that to you.

When he finally pushed into you, your eyes would be locked on his, warm with emotion, like the entire world just melted away. And how could he not kiss you? When everything felt so good and your legs were wrapped around his waist and each breath was punctuated by soft, desperate sounds? 

It would feel special. With your foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air. He just wants to be as close to you as possible— needs to feel every inch of your skin, sweaty and sun-warmed, against his. He’d just… bury himself deep inside of you and grind into you. It felt more intimate that way.

He could feel himself getting close. A furrow formed between his brows as he chased his high. Moans broke up his words as he brought himself closer and closer. 

“I’d— fuck— I’d rub your clit. Make you cum before I got there. It’d feel so— so fucking good too. It always feels so good. Oh god. Fuck, I’m close.”

“Go ahead, baby. I want to hear you.”

His entire body shuddered as he came, spilling messily onto his belly and chest. It felt like it lasted forever— that warm, perfect feeling of reaching his peak. He was panting as he came down, stroking himself until overstimulation made him whimper. 

“Fuck… maybe I should pay you for that,” you said after a beat. “Did it feel good, Steve?  Feel a little less lonely?”

“Mhmm,” he replied. He was spent— already feeling languid and heavy. “That was… Really perfect.”

“I’m glad.” You paused again,  and he spent that time trying to catch his breath. “I’m on every night around this time. Like, from around ten to two. I’d like to hear more of your fantasies, maybe even act one out with you, if you’d want that?”

His heart hammered, and he felt incredibly stupid as a blush crept up his neck and cheeks. “Yeah, I’ll call you again soon.”

When you said your good nights, he laid back against his pillows. The dial tone played over the speakers as he stared up at his ceiling, spend cooling on his tummy. Leave it to King Steve to fall for someone he had to pay to talk to.

Your eyelids drooped as you manned the checkout counter at Waldenbooks, one of few stores at the mall that could actually be found vacant during a busy summer day. Last night had been a late one— it didn’t help that you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve, your mystery caller. 

It felt stupid to get hung up on the type of guy who had to call a hotline to get his rocks off, especially when you knew precious little about him. You had his name, his general location, that he had a pool, and he had a nice voice. 

Your bangs lifted as you blew a puff of air out the side of your lips, slowly going insane to the sound of Muzak playing softly through the speakers. 

Steve… Did you know any Steve’s? Steve Crandall got into a motorcycle wreck the year after graduation and died. Then there was Steve Odell who moved off to California on some crazy tech idea he swore was going to change the world. Steven Ferris? He seemed like the type, but there was no way he owned a pool since you were pretty sure he lived in the basement of some old couple’s house. That wiped out your graduating class, at least. 

From your perspective on the second floor, you had a perfect view of the fine piece of ass working the ice cream parlor. He was cute— definitely younger than you by a couple of years— and the stupid costume they had him in surprisingly did it for you. You could watch him mop up spilled sorbet all day and it’d be jerk-off material for the next week. 

  He had nice biceps. And thighs. Fucking hell, the things you’d do to get between those and —

“New releases?” You snap your gaze to the other side of the counter, where a woman with pink lipstick on her teeth looks at you impatiently. 

You plastered on a winning smile and pointed a manicured finger to the other side of the store. “That big shelf on the left-hand wall over there,” you said with saccharine sweetness. “Anything else that I can help you with, ma’am?” 

She frowned and you fought a grin. There was nothing that women pushing forty hated more than being called ma’am. You might as well have been telling them they had a foot in the grave. 

The day passed by with minimal hiccups. You convinced someone to buy your favorite book, so that was a win. And you’d gotten to restock the fun pencils. You clocked out and shrugged off the vest you wore on top of your normal clothes and took your hair down from its ponytail to hang loose on your shoulders. Your perm was kind of killing you. It never sat just how you wanted, almost like it had a mind of its own. 

You made your way out of the mall with a brief glance towards Scoops Ahoy, which was notably missing the hot guy you’d been lusting after since your first day on the job. With a dejected sigh, you escaped the crowded, piercingly loud mall and stepped into the hot summer air. 

Most people (or, more accurately, children) were heading for the busses that would shuttle people back into the town square or their respective neighborhoods, but your car waited for you in the exclusive Employees Only lot in the shade. As you turned to head that way, you bumped straight into a tall, firm figure. 

Huh, you thought. He smells like hot fudge and maraschino cherries. I like those things.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I thought you were headed for the bus like everyone else.”

You looked up, squinting against the sun, and felt heat flood your cheeks when you realized that it was the hot ice cream scooper. “Oh, it’s, uh—“ you stammered nervously. It was never as easy as the phone line. “I was too.” You wanted to hit yourself. What the hell were you even talking about?

His brows furrowed. “You were what?“

Fuck. “I… uh— don’t know,” you finally said, ready for the conversation to end forever. “I’ll see you around.” And you were gone. You almost missed him calling after you.

You will?

But you pretended you’d never heard it. 

——

Steve called at midnight, just as you brewed your second cup of coffee of the night. You took a quick sip as the call was directed your way, already feeling much more awake in anticipation of what lay ahead. 

“Hey, Steve,” you greeted, adjusting your voice to that casual, sexy cadence that you had perfected. “I was thinking about you all day today.”

Steve responded with a dismissive psh. “I’m going to pretend that’s true, because I was thinking of you too,” he said, and you could hear his grin. “I kept screwing up at work because I’d get distracted thinking about you.”

You felt heat creep into your cheeks. “Baby, you’ll make me blush.” You paused, chewing on your lip briefly. “So… what’s in the cards for tonight, Steve? What do you want to do with me?”

He paused so long that you almost thought the call had dropped, but eventually he worked up the nerve to continue. “Well, you heard my fantasy last time. This time I want to hear yours.”

You snorted a laugh. “Steve, baby, that’s so incredibly sweet, but you could hate it, or think it’s boring, and then I’ll feel guilty for wasting your money.”

“I won’t,” he insisted. “C’mon, it’ll help us get to know each other better.”

You exhaled slowly through your nose, your tummy already fluttering with thoughts of the hot sailor shelling out dollar ice cream cones with extra sprinkles on top. 

Fuck. 

“Alright, but if you hate it, you’ve gotta promise me that you’ll tell me to shut up and we’ll do something else.” He hummed in affirmation and you laid back against your pillows, sighing as you closed your eyes and fell into your newfound, perfect little fantasy. 

“So… when I’m not doing sexy phone calls, I work a menial job,” you begin. “And normally, I’d be, like, wearing an ugly polo or vest or something with our logo on it, but for the sake of sexiness, let’s say that I’m wearing a cute little dress and my hair looks, like, perfect.”

“What does your hair look like normally?” Steve asked, hung up on the one detail that was specifically for your sake. God, you wanted to burn your local salon to the ground. 

“Uh,” you paused, wondering if you should tell the truth. “So I told my hairstylist to go for Kelly LeBrock and she… you know… tried. It looks so cute sometimes, and then other times it has a total mind of its own.”

“Oh, Kelly LeBrock! She’s such a babe. I saw the trailer for that movie she’s gonna be in. Total fox. Great hair.”

You tried to fight a smile, but couldn’t. “Do you wanna talk hair routines, or do you want me to keep going?”

Steve paused like he was genuinely considering it. “We’ll come back to the hair. I could probably help you figure it out, you know. I’ve got great hair.”

You smirked. “Oh, yeah? Where?”

“Use your imagination.”

You grinned. Oh, I am.

You were stocking shelves, as usual— except this time you couldn’t reach the top shelf. Standing on your tiptoes, the hemline of your skirt inching up and up and up. And suddenly there was a presence behind you, reaching up to stock the shelf for you. He smelled really nice, felt warm pressed up against your back.

“Am I the handsome stranger in this scenario?”

You said yes, even though you were mostly thinking about your mystery sailor from the mall. God, even the stupid uniform did it for you. Maybe it was the short shorts.

In the fantasy, the two of you didn’t even talk— really, your fantasies were typically pretty straight to the point, unlike Steve’s. The plot and dialogue would get skipped, and then suddenly, your back was pressed against the ridges of the shelves and the handsome stranger was on his knees in front of you, kissing sloppily up your thighs. 

Usually, you’d have some sense of control— keep your hands above the belt. It was better for you that way. It gave you a sense of separation from what was real and what was happening on the phone. And, really, you never really had a particular need to touch yourself while you were handling the calls anyway. 

And yet… Your hand slipped past the elastic hand of your panties, between your thighs where you were already wet and needy from just your own imagination. You gasped into the phone, bucking your hips into your own touch. 

Steve made a choked sound, crackly through the phone’s speakers. He knew exactly what you were doing. 

“Getting all worked up thinking about it, huh?” He asked, and you could hear a slight rustling and movement as he got himself undressed. It was honestly puzzling that it took that long, or that he didn’t call already ready to go. “Sound so pretty.”

You weren’t even aware that you were making a significant amount of noise, but Steve had keyed into it easily, hanging onto every sigh and whimper. 

In your fantasy, his mouth was absolutely fucking sinful. He would moan against your cunt, nuzzling against your clit with his nose as he lapped up your slick. It was sloppy, and the sounds he made could have made the devil himself blush a burning red. His chin and mouth would drip with the combination of your juices and his spit— his fingernails leaving crescents in your thighs from where he held you tight. 

When he looked up at you from between your thighs, his gaze would be equal parts hungry and sweet. He wanted it to feel good for you because the more you get off, the better it felt for him too. When he felt you getting closer and closer, he moved his fingertip to your entrance, teasing you with featherlight grazes that gathered your essence. He pressed in, just to his first knuckle, and relished in the way you would clench around him at the smallest intrusion before he gave it to you entirely.

Despite the shitty quality of the phone, which was probably your fault, since you had owned it since at least ‘78, you could hear the slick sounds of him stroking himself to your words. And, for once, you relished in that noise across the line. 

You pushed a finger inside of yourself, then a second. Most guys you’d been with got that far then jammed them in and out at a wrist-killing speed until you faked it. Your thing was always just keeping them still, pressing against the sweet spot just barely a few inches inside. Paired with the dizzying pleasure of attention to your clit, the sensation was electric and all-consuming. 

It felt too good to stop, and yet you knew you needed to make it through your fantasy before you came and that precious euphoria rushed over you. Because after the euphoria came that strange sense of disgust, and you couldn’t really afford to spend the rest of the call grossed out by what you were doing. 

“Fuck, anyways,” you began, your breath coming in short pants. “He— you— would take off your shorts.” Stupid, tiny, tight shorts. “And, fuck, you’d already be so hard and needy. You just wanted me so bad. You would press me against the shelf and when you push into me it’d be so easy and slick and I’d feel so full.”

Your cunt pulsed around your fingers, so close to the edge that you could almost swear you were already over it. The precipice was so nice you almost didn’t mind waiting for it. You would hear Steve fucking his hand, pretty moans and grunts passing his lips as he brought himself closer. It wasn’t really fair to leave either one of you hanging much longer. 

“You’d kiss me. And it would be a little messy, but we wouldn’t care. You’d taste good, and you’d feel good. Fuck, Steve. I need to cum so bad.”

He panted into the phone and you practically mewled. God, he sounded so much better than the gross old men you usually had to deal with. “Fuck, I’m right here with you,” he managed, his voice breathy and desperate. “Let me hear you.”

Your ears rang as you came, making the world go a bit fuzzy. Distantly, you could hear how pretty Steve sounded as he came. Honestly, you’d never been one to relish in that type of thing— most guys you’d hooked up with kind of grossed you out. But, god, you’d give anything to watch him get off. Your chest heaved, rising and falling with a shiny sheen of sweat.

“So…” Steve began, sounding a little more languid and a lot more blissed out. There was a sweet, carefree quality to his voice. “Your fantasy is having sex at work?”

You rolled your eyes and fought a grin. “Hey, I didn’t judge your hot, sweaty poolside fuck session.”

”That was about making love,” He insisted. Your heart stuttered a bit. You had to admit that was sweet. “And I’m not knocking your fantasy— I just can’t even imagine someone wanting to have sex with me in my uniform.”

You grinned. “Aw, you have a uniform? I bet you look really sexy in it.”

He huffed, an annoyed groan escaping his lips. “No, I hate my uniform and I’m counting the days until I can rip it off and throw it in, like, a bonfire.”

“I can help with the ripping it off part, y’know,” you teased. 

“No,” he said firmly. “No, we’re not going there, because, one, I came so much I can’t even think about getting hard again or my dick will hurt, and two, if I start having workplace fantasies about you and my uniform I’ll get hard on the job and end up on a registry somewhere.”

“Alright, alright,” you said with a laugh. “I had fun tonight, Steve. I, uh, don’t really get a lot of people asking what I like. I don’t get anyone asking what I like, actually.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m just a pleaser, I guess.” 

He said his goodnights just before hanging up, promising to call again soon. You didn’t have a clear idea of when soon was. You’d had long-term customers promise a call soon that just dropped off the face of the earth. You laid there listening to the dial tone until it started to hurt your ears, then put the phone back on the receiver.

The bed creaked on its ancient springs as you got up, padding out into the hallway. Outside the big window at the end of the hall, you saw a lamp switch off across the street, making the house go dark. It felt a little comforting to know that boring old Hawkins was awake just like you were. 

In the bathroom, you washed your hands with cotton candy-scented soap and tugged at your misbehaving curls. Maybe you would take up Steve on his hair tips. Before you could think about Steve any longer, your phone rang again. And though part of you wished it would be Steve, you knew that there was such a thing as too soon to be ‘soon.’

There wasn’t really a point in pouting. It was decent money. You answered the phone, put on your fake voice, and got to work. 

Steve called nearly nightly for the next month. If having a backyard school wasn’t proof enough he was loaded, his ability to pay your rates nightly sealed the deal. 

It wasn’t always sexual. Well, to be fair, it was mostly sexual. No matter how much you looked forward to phone sex with Steve, you enjoyed talking to him just as much. You learned about his childhood dog, Walter, and his allegedly prodigy-like swimming skills. He was CPR certified, could say his ABCs in French (and nothing else), and loved the colors red, yellow, and blue.

You told him what you could without giving too much away. That Jenny, obviously, wasn’t your real name. Your favorite color, favorite book, favorite flower. You told him that you were in college, going back in the fall. That you only started doing this gig because textbooks were expensive and you wanted to be able to feed yourself while at school. 

Without meaning to, you started to care about Steve. It was probably stupid, and definitely against everything you thought you stood for. But somehow, he managed to squeeze into the recesses of your brain and set up camp there. Try as you might, you couldn’t get him out of your mind. 

“Alright, little Stevie, that’s your fifth wistful sigh of the day,” Robin said, marking a tally on her palm. It struck him as weird that she was counting, but it wasn’t exactly anything new. “You’ve gotta stop or I might actually start feeling bad for you.”

His chin rested in his hand, and he looked over at her with wide puppy dog eyes. “Can you love someone you’ve never met?”

Robin shrugged. “I dunno. Probably not, why?”

He sighed again, his shoulders sagging. “What if my dream girl isn’t exactly accessible? Like… she’s impossible to find and might not even live in Hawkins. She might live in, like, Indianapolis.”

Robin’s expression— the slight squint of her eyes and downturn to her lips— told him she didn’t particularly care. But the store was dead on a boring Tuesday, so digging into Steve’s life was about the only interesting thing to do on the job. 

“That sucks,” she said slowly. “How do you know this mystery soulmate?”

Steve blanched, picking at his nails as he tried to consider a reasonable excuse. “Uh… Blind setup. Very blind setup.” Robin raised an eyebrow. “I only know her number, nothing else.”

“Name?” Steve shook his head glumly. “Damn. But you think you love this girl?” Steve nodded again, but felt a little dumb. He never did things in half-measures. Never felt things that way either, so it made sense to him, but maybe it was a little crazy. 

He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. He wanted to help you with your bad perm and give you advice about how to take care of it. He wanted to surprise you at your boring job with lunch and flowers. It had been a long time since he’d been this excited about someone. 

A tinny beeping sound made him jolt, nearly slipping on the freshly mopped floor. Finally. He didn’t hesitate to tear off his work shirt, leaving him in the shorts and the white tee shirt he kept beneath it for this very reason— not having to walk out in public in full uniform.

He offered a quick bye to Robin and clocked out as quickly as he could. It had been only a week since Jenny had told him her favorite book, and he’d been saving up tips to pay for a copy at Waldenbooks. 

There was a girl behind the counter with a messy ponytail that had half-fallen-out, music blaring from her headphones. It must’ve been a mixtape because it went from some Hall and Oates song to an older Queen one. A little disjointed, but not in bad taste. She was completely immersed in the novel in her hand, so much so that she didn’t notice his presence.

“Excuse me?” He asked, putting on a winning smile. 

“What?” The girl in front of him blinked in surprise and tugged the headphones down around her neck. The music continued— saxophone and a dance beat. Staying Power. He liked that one. Once she’d paused it abruptly, she looked at him again, and he saw a glint of something in her eyes, like she recognized him.

“I’m looking for this book—“ He withdrew a piece of paper from his pocket, where he had scribbled the title down as Jenny told him about it. “Do you know if it’s in stock?”

She looked at the note, then chewed on her lip anxiously. “Mhmm.” She watched him again, like she was expecting something. It took a moment, but it clicked. 

She’s the girl who bumped into him outside a month ago and said weird stuff! “Oh! You were right, I guess. About seeing me around.” He squinted, reading her name tag aloud. 

“Hm?” She blinked a few times, like she was taken out of a daydream. “Oh. Yeah, sorry about all of that. I just had a long day and my brain was fried.”

He nodded. “I get that,” he replied. “Next thing I know I’ll wake up from scooping ice cream in my sleep.” She laughed at that, a smile splitting across her features. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Her expression faltered, just the tiniest bit. Almost enough that he wouldn’t notice, especially since she corrected it just as quickly. “I’ll go grab that book for you, ‘Kay? Just… stay here.”

She disappeared into the shelves, leaving him standing awkwardly at the counter. The store was oddly empty— he would’ve at least expected some nerdy kids like Dustin to be rooting around. When she returned, she seemed more nervous than before.

“Here, just take it—“ She said, shoving a beat-up-looking copy at him. His brows furrowed as he looked down at the copy in his hands. The cover was bent and torn in places. Corners of pages were dog eared, sticky note tabs stuck out from pages, and he could see glimpses of pen and highlighter. Noticing his confusion, she elaborated. “We’re out, but I had an old copy in my bag. I’ve already read it, so you can borrow it.”

He furrowed his brows. “Is that, like… allowed?”

“Probably!” She said with a startling lack of confidence. She swallowed, giving him an awkward smile. “Just bring it back when you’re done.”

He hesitated. “Uh… okay. Thanks.” He turned to walk away when she called out after him. 

 “Bye, Steve.” 

He wondered why that sounded so familiar. 

Fuck. 

“I mean… what are the odds?” You spoke aloud as you paced your room. When your reflection caught your attention, you felt, and looked, like a madwoman. “It’s not him. It’s not him, and I’m not going to worry about it.”

Five minutes later, you sat up in bed, unable to focus on the book you were reading. It was going to keep bothering you unless you did at least a little digging. But, Jesus, where did you even start with something like this?

“Hey, Rhonda?” You called, popping your head out of your room. “Do you remember any hot underclassmen named Steve from high school?”

Rhonda Finley was the prettiest girl from the class of ‘83. And it wasn’t an exaggeration either, seeing as she was voted Most Beautiful and Miss Hawkins within the same school year. The fact that you were even friends felt like a strange coincidence, but there you both were regardless. 

She carried all of her yearbooks into your room, settling onto the fluffy rug beside your bed. 

“You said his name is Steve?” She asked from her spot on the floor. She flipped through the old yearbook with reverence— pausing to look at photos of herself on other pages. “Steve… stevestevesteve. What about Stephen Cranston? He did the morning announcements, he was decent.”

You glanced at his picture briefly and shook your head. “No, not him,” you replied. “He’s cuter. Uh… boyish is a good word to describe him. Sharp nose and warm eyes.”

Rhonda snorted, flipping another page. “Okay, Shakespeare.” 

You chewed on your lip, watching her tab through until you made a squeak of recognition. The faintest glimpse of a younger Steve in a picture of a home economics class. “Ronnie, flip back,” you said, tapping her shoulder insistently. She did as you said and you pointed. “That’s him. Younger, but it’s him.”

She squinted, reading the small caption. “Sophomore Steve Harrington cooks up trouble in Mrs. Destefano’s Home Ec class!’” She laughed and flipped until she found the sophomore class portraits. “Yep. Steven Harrington.”

You sat back on your heels. “Huh.”

She closed the yearbook and glanced back at you. “I think I went to a pool party of his once,” Ronnie said, brows furrowed as she tried to find the memory. “He was friends with that freckle-y kid that my asshole ex was friends with. God, that was the night when we got into that screaming match and we broke up for like a month before he was begging for another chance.”

Pool party? You felt a knot in your stomach that you weren’t even sure you could have untangled at that point. Was it even possible that your mystery cute phone guy was the unbelievably attractive ice cream scooper at the mall?

No chance. You weren’t that lucky. And yet… maybe a seed of hope took root in your chest. And maybe… maybe you could get him to spill enough details to prove it. 

——

Steve called you around midnight. Your heart leapt into your throat as you answered, thrumming and threatening to burst from nerves. 

“Hey.” His voice was soft, a little tired. “I, uh, thought about you today.”

You could picture him so clearly— his soft hair, long legs, boyish charm. “Hope I wasn’t too distracting. Were you working today? What do you do?” You dug a little deeper with the question, trying to suss out any information you could. 

“Yeah,” he replied with a sigh. “I work in food service at a mall I live near. It’s nothing to write home about, I guess, but it’s temporary until I start applying for the spring semester.”

Okay, so there’s no doubt about it anymore. It was Steve Harrington, the hot ice cream scooper in the sailor suit, who was calling your line every night. The same Steve Harrington who you’d bumped into twice after your shift. 

You tried to push that aside and focus on the reason for the call. 

“So I was a welcome distraction, then?”

He laughed. “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t.” He paused. “Did you, uh… think about me?”

The hope in his voice made your heart swell. “Of course I thought about you, baby. You’re my favorite caller.” You paused, debating your next move. “I’ve been thinking about getting you all needy and desperate for me all day. About hearing your pretty sounds.”

He fucking whimpered. “I’ve spent the entire night hard just waiting to call you.” You could hear him shuffle around on the other end of the call, presumably stripping off his remaining layers. “Didn’t want to be too desperate and call too fast.”

“Poor baby,” you cooed. “Can you do something for me? It’ll feel so good, I promise.”

“Mhmm.”

“Grab a pillow and lay on your stomach for me,” you instructed. Without hesitation, you could hear the staticky sound of movement on his end as he shifted. “This might sound weird, but—“

“You want me to… to like—“ he stammered nervously. “Hump it?”

You blanched, wondering if your perverse fantasies of the hot mall guy getting off had perhaps pushed him a bit too far. “I mean…. Only if you’re into it. We can do something else.”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, I’ve… I mean— I’ve done it before.”

Oh. Butterflies buzzed around your tummy as you let yourself indulge in the mental image. “Yeah? Did it feel good?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed. You could hear rustling on the phone, like he was trying to situate himself comfortably. “Just made a mess is all.”

Fucking hell. “You gonna make a mess for me tonight, then?” You asked, twirling the phone cord around your finger. He moaned in response, and you grinned. “Aw, did you already get started, sweetheart?”

He moaned out a confirmation and you grinned, letting your free hand trail down your belly and beneath the waistband of your panties. “You already sound so pretty, Steve. So good for me, doing exactly what I say.”

The breathy sounds of his pants and moans made slickness gather between your thighs. Sounded like he hadn’t been lying about being hard and desperate all night just anticipating the call. “We’re not gonna talk tonight, we’re just gonna listen to each other,” you told him. 

Maybe it was unfair to him that you had the perfect mental image of him in your head since you already knew what he looked like. You relished in that knowledge as you coated your fingers in your wetness and rubbed small circles around your clit. 

Steve was loud, which made you wonder if his neighbors hated him. If you had to live next door to Steve Harrington and his pornstar moans, you’d probably go crazy. You were going crazy just from being on the other end of the phone. You were louder than usual too— it was a miracle that Rhonda worked nights.

It wasn’t long before you both finished— gasping and moaning into the phone’s receiver. You sighed as you laid back against your pillows, completely sated and content as you listened to Steve’s shaky breaths. 

“How’re you feeling?” You asked, fighting the desire to twirl your hair around your fingers. 

“Good,” he said finally. “Gonna have to do laundry, wash my sheets. I probably needed to anyway.” He paused. “I picked up a copy of that book you were talking about. It’s actually funny, ‘cause they were out of copies apparently, but the girl behind the counter let me have hers. Like it was meant to be, or something.”

Your heart hammered. “That’s really sweet, Steve,” you said softly. “I’m sorry in advance if you hate it.”

“I won’t!” He insisted. “I read the first couple of pages while I waited to call. I’m not the best reader, though. Might take me a while to finish it, but I do like it so far.”

You were partially convinced that you were in love with Steve Harrington, despite the fact that he wouldn’t even recognize you on the street. “This might be… I mean, maybe it’s crossing a line, and I could totally get fired for even suggesting… but—“ You hesitated. Fuck it. “I want to give you my personal line. So you don’t have to pay to talk to me. It’s not fair if we’re both enjoying the conversations but only one of us is paying, you know?”

He was quiet, almost too quiet. Nerves stirred in your belly. “Is that… you know, okay?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he said quickly. “Let me just grab a pen.”

You couldn’t help but stare longingly down into the atrium of the mall, where Steve Harrington was sweeping crumbs off of one of the booths inside Scoops Ahoy.

“Hello?” A kid snapped his fingers a few times and you swallowed down your annoyance as you turned. “We called earlier about Ender’s Game. The guy on the phone said he’d hold three copies. It’s under Mike.”

You glanced behind you, where the books clearly weren’t. Fuck Greg for making your menial job even worse. “It must’ve slipped his mind. I can grab those for you.” The kid made a bitchy face as you stepped away from the counter and you bit your tongue to keep from saying something rude. Fucking latchkey kids.

When you returned with three copies of the book, you looked at the kids skeptically. “By the way, if you stole any of the pencils or bookmarks, my boss is going to take it out of my paycheck and I won’t be able to feed my kids.”

“It costs thirty cents to feed your kids?”

You sighed and rang them up, but they continued to loiter in the shelves while you pretended to be busy. 

“There’s nothing to do,” one of them said after picking up a copy of Sports Illustrated briefly. “We should just go back to my house and play Atari.”

A red-haired girl rolled her eyes. “Lucas, we’re not playing Pong again.” She paused and glanced down towards the food court. “We could go see Steve.”

It took all your willpower not to react. 

“Why do you always want to go see Steve?” Lucas asked. “It’s not like you have a boyfriend or anything.”

“She just wants to see him because she’s got some weird crush on him,” the bitchy one said. Mike? The red-haired girl blushed nearly as fiery as her hair and shoved Mike hard. “What? We all know it. You and El are always drooling over him. It’s weird.”

“He’s nice, okay? Way nicer than you are, asshole.” She shoved past the group and left on her own, leaving the other two guys to scramble after her. One kid was left behind, the one with the unfortunate bowl cut. He offered a wave before he followed after them. 

When they got downstairs, you watched him greet the redhead with a smile and a ruffle of her hair. Lucas and the bowl-cut kid got a slap on the back, and the bitchy one got a half-smile that wasn’t returned. 

Then he shelled out free ice cream, which was evident because none of them made a move to pay. 

After they left, you watched him reach into his own wallet and cover the cost, placing the bills carefully into the cash register. 

The rest of your shift was spent fawning over Steve and flipping through issues of the magazines you had on display. You felt idiotic gazing at Steve Harrington with puppy dog eyes while reading Top Ten Ways to Know if He’s Really Into You! Of course he wasn’t into you— he didn’t even know who you were, not really. 

Around two in the afternoon, you were snapped out of your reverie by the sight of Steve walking through the threshold of the shop, looking around the shop before his gaze settled on you and lit up in recognition. 

“Hi!” He said, nearly knocking over a carefully displayed unofficial biography of Reagan on his way over. You smiled, straightening your posture as he approached. “I wanted to thank you for the book.”

Your heart thumped. “Oh, you don’t need to thank me,” you insisted. “I just wanted to help.”

He reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out two coupons to Scoops Ahoy with a flourish. They advertised free ice cream in the nautical scrawl. “Does this change your mind?” He raised his brows and smiled smugly. 

You rolled your eyes and grabbed them, reading the fine print. Valid only at the Starcourt Mall location on weekdays between 8am and 11am. Offer not valid in conjunction with any other deals. Offer excludes banana splits, sundaes, and the U.S.S. Butterscotch.

“Maybe,” you replied. “Is free ice cream your thing or something? I saw you give that group of kids free sundaes earlier.”

He furrowed his brows, considering it, then grinned. “Are you watching me?”

Fuck. You spluttered, shaking your head as you fumbled through a response. “No. They were here first, then talked about going to see you, and then I just…” He laughed and leaned over the desk slightly, as if testing the view. 

“Oh, yeah. Perfect view from here.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat burning in your cheeks. “So you come here to thank me with shitty coupons, and then you accuse me of spying on you?”

He shook his head as he leaned back. “Hey, it’s not accusing you if it’s true.” He was so smug. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. See you around?” He looked at you expectantly until you nodded, face burning hot. He smiled, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked out casually like he hadn’t just totally caught you creeping on him. 

God, you were going to make him pay for that later. 

——

Steve paced around his room as he tried to gain the courage to call you. He would have liked to say that he needed to get your number from his Rolodex, but he’d memorized it nearly the moment he put it down on paper. 

He was thinking of you, but he was also thinking about the girl from the mall who seemed to keep popping up. There was something about her, the way he was drawn to her, the way she spoke, the way she looked at him. It was all so familiar and easy, like they’d known each other forever. 

He didn’t know how to feel about that. 

Finally, he settled on his bed, dressed only in a thin white tank top and boxers that were a size too big since he stopped working out as much. With nerves buzzing in his ears, he dialed your number and waited. 

And waited. And waited. He swallowed hard, wondering if you’d given him a fake number just to be rid of him. The number went to the answering machine, and his mouth went dry. 

“Hi! You’ve reached Y/N Y/L/N. I’m out right now, but leave your name and number at the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!” A beep sounded and Steve hung up suddenly. His stomach sank. 

He wasn’t supposed to know your real name like that. It felt like some gross intrusion. And yet, he repeated it over and over again in his mind. Why did it seem so familiar?

On his nightstand, the beat up paperback he had borrowed stood out like a sore thumb. Oh. The book, the same book you, Jenny, had told him about. And the girl who worked there… Y/N. 

It was too much, far too much to be a coincidence. He grabbed the book and opened it to look at the inside cover, where your name, Jenny’s name was scrawled inside. Because you and Jenny were the same person. 

Every single conversation leading up to that point played over in his mind. The messy perm, the shitty job with the ugly polo, the fantasy about being pushed against the shelves and fucked. Oh, God. And you were totally spying on him. 

It should’ve been an absolute win for him, but his stomach turned as he glanced over at the phone on the receiver. You were gorgeous and funny and smart and so sexy. Why would you want to be with someone who needed to call a sex hotline?

He could just picture the look on your face when you discovered that the guy who worked in the stupid uniform at Scoops was so pathetic that he needed to call someone to get attention. 

He swallowed hard, guilt and doubt settling icy in his stomach. He put the book down, and didn’t call back.

——

Steve was sulking during his shift. Probably biting the heads off of a few too many kids who asked for a few too many samples. 

“Jesus, how many times do you need to try cotton candy?” He snapped as he dug out a tiny spoonful of the pink and blue ice cream. The kid furrowed his brows up at him, puzzled by the sudden outburst. 

“Uh, can I try Cherries Jubilee next?” He asked hesitantly. 

Steve exhaled slowly through his nose. “No, you’re done. Out.”

The kid rolled his eyes, swore under his breath, and stomped out of Scoops Ahoy. 

Robin was staring at him funny when he turned around, a mix of curiosity and amusement. “You’re totally PMSing today.”

He couldn’t manage more than a scowl in response. “Shut up.”

Robin laughed and tossed a cherry at him, which he managed to catch before it splattered against the glass of the ice cream case. He hated maraschino cherries— the artificial sweetness and unnatural color. But, hey, he could tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue.

He hadn’t called you for three days, which felt like the longest stretch of time in his life. And he hadn’t even seen you around Starcourt, which was both a good thing and absolutely unbearable. 

Part of him wanted to just jump on the escalator and see if you were sitting behind the counter at Waldenbooks, but he knew it was better to just have a clean break. Maybe in a few months, you’d forget about that Steve guy who’d called you and he could make his move then.

The shift change hit around lunchtime, and Steve prepared for the influx of people who were getting off work on empty stomachs. As he suspected, the line stretched out the door and he was practically up to his elbows in ice cream, mindlessly scooping flavor combinations that should’ve been illegal. Until—

“Hey, Steve,” you said, standing in front of him in your ugly work polo with messy hair half-fallen out of your ponytail. “Staying busy?”

He stammered nervously and mumbled out an unintelligible response. “Ice cream?” Was all that he could manage to ask, which made him want to throw himself into the fountain right in the middle of the food court. 

But you just smiled. “A shake, actually. Chocolate banana if that’s possible.” He nodded and got to work, thankful for the distraction. Your eyes followed his every movement as he made your shake, but he couldn’t let himself look at you.

Because if he did really look at you, all he’d be able to think about were the phone calls you’d had— the calls where he’d heard you cum with breathy gasps and pants and soft whimpers. And— Jesus Christ— he was thinking about it and it made him feel dizzy. 

He used a little bit too much whipped cream and put rainbow sprinkles on top for God knows why, but he handed it to you with a weak smile. 

“Three bucks, right?” You asked, nodding to the menu.

“Uh, you can just have it,” he said without even thinking. “On the house.”

You furrowed your brows for a moment,  but smiled brightly. “Really? Thanks, Steve. I appreciate it.” You took a sip and gave a soft moan at the flavor that made a full-body chill run through him. “See you around?”

“Yeah. See you.” You gave a small wave before you disappeared into the food court. He watched you the whole way, like you were the only person in the room.

Fuck. He was hard. Like, rock hard and the stupid apron on the uniform only made it more obvious. He’d fucking pavloved himself to get turned on just by your voice. 

“Robin, I’m taking my fifteen,” he said, darting into the back before she could protest. He stepped inside the walk-in freezer and propped the door with a crate of waffle cones. After about five minutes, he felt like he could actually think again.

“Fuck,” He muttered under his breath. He had to call you again.

You were sincerely considering quitting the hotline. After Steve, just listening to the other guys panting and blowing their loads on the phone was nauseating. They didn’t care to learn more about you, not the way he did. They just wanted to get their rocks off to an anonymous, sexy voice. 

Then again, Steve had disappeared too. Maybe giving him your real number had crossed a line. Maybe it freaked him out that you were taking it beyond a transaction. You sighed and wrapped yourself tighter in your house coat. Rhonda always kept the AC on overdrive in the summer, which meant you needed at least two blankets to be comfortable. 

When the phone rang, you picked it up without thinking, half expecting it to be Rhonda calling you to check in during her break. 

“Hey,” you said absentmindedly, leaning back against your pillows. 

“This is, uh— this is the right number, right? It’s Steve.”

Your heart nearly burst out of your chest at the sound of his voice. “Hey, yeah, it’s the right number,” you assured. You wriggled out of your housecoat and tossed it to the side so you could get more comfortable. “How are you? It’s been a few days.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I, uh,” he paused. “I think I psyched myself out of calling you.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Well, I’m glad you did call. I really missed you.”

“You did?”

You laughed, letting yourself get more comfortable. “Mhmm,” you replied. “I mean, we’ve been talking everyday for a while, you know?”

“I missed you too, couldn’t stop thinking about you, even at work.” You smiled, remembering how absentminded he had seemed when you showed up in the ice cream parlor. And he was thinking about you. Not you, but still you. “I— uh— had to walk into our deep freezer to cool myself off.”

“How long has it been for you?” You asked suddenly. “Like, since you’ve had sex.”

Steve chuckled nervously. “I dunno… two months?” He paused. “Is that lame?”

“Nuh-uh, baby,” you assured. “Think it’s sweet. No wonder you’re all needy all the time. You need a nice, tight, wet pussy to sink into, hm?”

A low moan escaped his lips. “God—“

“Better than your hand, isn’t it?” You teased. “I bet you’re so desperate that you’ve been touching yourself this whole time, even before you called me. Isn’t that right?”

The closest thing you got in response was another pretty moan. “You’re big too, aren’t you?” You mused aloud, not even waiting for a response. “I know you are, you’ve basically told me in not so many words. Most girls can’t handle that, baby. It’s not your fault. That’s okay, we could take it slow, you could get me all nice and stretched for you, take your time like the gentleman you are.”

“Fuck— fuck—“ His words came out choked and desperate. You could almost picture it— the way he’d be fucking up into his hand, needing more and more.

“I bet you always have to take it real slow, huh? Gotta be careful so you don’t hurt someone. But that just means you can feel everything better, doesn’t it? Inch by inch by inch, every flutter and squeeze. And you can see on their faces how good it feels, can’t you? You can watch their eyes roll back and their mouths fall open while they cry out for you. I mean, Jesus, Steve, I bet most girls come before you’re even all the way inside.”

His hand sped up, desperate and needy, just as you’d said. You could hear it with each wet slap of skin against skin. His moans were constant, a stream of yesahgodfuckohshitahyesahfuckfuckfuck— until the prettiest moan escaped his lips, all low and deep, and you knew he’d made a pretty mess of himself. 

“Bet that felt really nice,” you said while he panted on the other end of the line. 

He made a weak noise, then finally managed a, “Uh-huh. Fuck.”

You laughed softly. “That’s gotta be the fastest I’ve gotten you off,” you said finally. “I like having that much power over you. It turns me on so much.”

He groaned. “Fuck, give me five— no— ten minutes. I can barely breathe right now.”

You grinned, relishing in your ability to torture him a bit after he’d teased you at work. Unknowingly, of course, but still. “I dunno if I can wait that long, Steve… I’m so wet that my thighs are all sticky.”

“God, you’re killing me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatics. “Why don’t you lay there and listen to me? Be good and keep your hands off, alright? You already came, so don’t get greedy.”

He made a nearly pained noise. “Fine. Fine.”

A smirk spread across your lips as you let your hand move between your thighs. Really, you weren’t exaggerating that much— you found yourself slick and needy when you finally slid your panties down your thighs. Actually, you thought you’d probably have to be a statue to hear Steve Harrington panting and cumming over the phone and stay unaffected.

You could hear his breath catch with every soft moan and whimper, and maybe you got mean and held the phone near your tummy, so he could hear just how wet and messy you’d gotten as you steadily fucked yourself with your fingers. When you got desperate enough, you held the phone against your ear once more. 

“I dunno, Steve… I don’t think my fingers can cut it,” you said, exaggerating the pouty tone of your voice. “I wish you were here to take care of me.”

He groaned, low and muffled. You had a feeling he’d thrown an arm over his face. “You’re so unfair.”

A smile spread across your lips at his words. “No, baby. What’s unfair is that I’m laying here all alone, feeling so empty and needy, and you’re not here to make it all better.” You reached into your nightstand, pulling out the dildo you’d bought for your twentieth birthday. “‘S okay, I can take care of myself just fine. You ever been to a sex shop?”

It got quiet on the line, and you could nearly hear the gears turning. 

“N-no.”

You raised a brow. “Really? But you know what they sell, don’t you?” You paused until he hummed a soft uh-huh. “It’s only fair that I get to use a toy to fill myself up since you can’t do it for me, right?”

“Y-yeah, wanna hear you do it.”

You grinned. “Patience, baby. Gotta get it wet first so it glides in nice and easy.”

Blowing a rubber dick wasn’t how you’d envisioned ending your day, but— what can you say?— spontaneity is the spice of life. You made sure he heard every wet pass of it between your lips, every exaggerated gag as you took it into your throat, the messy smack of your lips. It tasted like a tire and dish soap, but the desperate, restrained sounds he was making made it all worth it. 

Your eyes were watery when you finally pulled the toy from your mouth, certain you’d adequately worked him up for the time being. Plus, you were worked up just as much, if not more— you wanted to just fuck yourself into oblivion already. 

Instinctively, your thighs fell farther apart as you moved the toy between your legs. You let the tip tease your entrance, only a little, before you began to push it inside. A soft moan fell from your lips as you finally got the nice, full feeling you’d been dreaming of. 

You laid there for a moment, letting your body adjust to it, reveling in it. With your free hand, you slowly circled your clit until your cunt fluttered around the intrusion. 

“Feels so nice,” you sighed, lips brushing against the mouthpiece of the phone. You felt drunk and hazy with desire. “Like I’m so close already that I can taste it.”

“Make yourself come for me,” he practically begged. “Wanna hear it.”

You moaned at his words, but shook your head. “Can’t yet. I wanna make this last.”

Time felt a little hazy as you kept working the toy in and out, slow and deep. Occasionally, you’d brush against your clit just right, or the toy would find a nice spot inside of you, and your entire body would tremble with need. 

Steve’s breath came in pants over the phone, but you couldn’t tell if he had broken and actually started to touch himself. You kind of hoped he did, even if you wouldn’t say it. 

Eventually, you came without warning— the build-up of it all made it impossible to avoid. Once you started over that edge, you couldn’t crawl back even if you’d wanted to. Moans fell from your lips as you succumbed to your orgasm; every nerve was like a live wire. When it finally came to be too much, you slipped the toy out and relaxed onto your bed with a contented sigh. 

“Are you still alive?” You asked, quiet crackling over the phone. 

“Uh… yeah,” he replied, a little distracted. “Have you ever come without having to touch yourself?”

You laughed softly. “Once. I read in Cosmo that some girls can get off just from playing with their tits. Took a while, but I eventually got there. Why?”

“I just, uh… listening to you, all the noises and hearing how wet you were… I guess that was all it took.” He sounded so embarrassed, but it was the cutest fucking thing you’d ever heard. You could imagine it so clearly, his cock pulsing against his twitching stomach, cum making puddles around his navel. 

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” you said with a smile. “You’re probably exhausted, huh?”

He laughed a bit. “A little, but I can stay up and talk, if you’re free.”

Ever the gentleman, Steve stayed up another hour to talk about whatever you could think of to keep the conversation running. The new collection at The Gap, whether or not he planned to see Back to the Future, his favorite music got him talking for half an hour at least. Finally, you were yawning and beat. 

“Steve, baby, I should go to sleep,” you said, almost apologetically. 

“That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You froze, brows furrowing. “What?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeated, sleepily. “At the mall.”

“Um… night,” you said quickly, panicking slightly as you hung up the phone.

Steve had mopped the same spot on the floor five times during his shift, all while sparing fleeting glances towards Waldenbooks, where you were immersed in a magazine or a book. Always doing anything but looking down at him. 

Which was good… maybe? He couldn’t quite decide.

He hadn’t been thinking when he said that on the phone. But he was sleepy, and his brain was a little foggy, and then he’d gone and doubled down. 

As soon as he hung up the phone, he remembered that he had given his real name, and you knew he worked in food service, and you knew he wore a stupid uniform. That narrowed it down really easily. 

So he spent his shift in a constant state of dread and panic, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

By the time the mall was closing, he had occupied himself with wiping down tables. He let Robin head home and pulled out his Walkman to keep him company. Since working at Starcourt, he made a pretty sick collection of tapes that wound up in the lost and found. This one was a metal mix, which typically wasn’t his thing, but was growing on him. 

He didn’t realize you were standing over him until you rapped twice on the table, drawing his eyes up, up, up until they were locked with yours. He scrambled to pause the tape and stand up, adjusting his stupid uniform as an embarrassed blush grew on his cheeks. 

“Hi,” you greeted. Your Waldenbooks vest hung loosely on your form, right on top of a pink polo. 

“Hi,” he echoed. It was quiet for a second, as he tried to think of what to say, and as you scrambled for the words you’d been practicing all day. “I’ve known it was you for a while.” The words escaped him before he could stop himself, and then he just stared at you, completely mortified. 

You laughed, covering your face for a moment as heat flooded your cheeks. “You knew? I didn’t even— I mean, I didn’t realize. Because I knew it was you calling. For a while, actually. 

He grinned, leaning forward. “So… the guy you said you wanted to… against the shelves…?” When you ducked your head and looked away, he smiled like the cat who got the cream. “No way. You were totally perving on me, even before!”

“You had to walk into a deep freezer to cool off because you were thinking about me, perv.” He laughed, and you wanted to kiss him so badly it freaked you out a little. “So… What do we do now? I mean, now that you know who I am, and I know who you are, and we’re going to keep running into each other.”

Your poor cuticles were going through the wringer— red and stinging where you picked at them due to nerves. There was nothing you wanted more than for him to just sweep you into his arms like some kind of fairytale and promise his undying devotion. Or just say he wanted to date you. Whichever.

“I could take you on a date,” he said sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. “I mean, if your type is total pervs who spend most of the week in sailor uniforms.”

Oh, you had plans for that sailor uniform. You stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I think you just might be in luck.” He turned his head, just slightly, so he could capture your mouth with his. 

The kiss was sweet, at first. Slow brushes of his lips against yours. They tasted sweet, like he’d been wearing lip smackers or something. Or maybe he’d been sneaking samples of the ice cream. He pulled you closer and you gasped, offering him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moaned softly at the feeling of your tongue licking against his. 

He picked you up easily, sitting you down on the table he should’ve been cleaning. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms around his neck. It was easy to lose yourself in the hungry, desperate way Steve kissed. You could’ve stayed right there in the middle of Scoops making out with him until the mall opened in the morning, and still not have found the motivation to stop. 

A bright light startled you back into reality, shining directly in your faces. You and Steve squinted in the general direction, as Starcourt security stomped your way. 

“Hey! Get the fuck home,” He shouted, with equal amounts of exasperation and annoyance. He clicked off the flashlight and walked away with a huff and an eye roll, leaving you and Steve alone.

Steve’s cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment as he stepped back, but he still wore a dopey grin on his lips. You hopped off the table and adjusted your skirt with a light laugh. 

“That was nice,” You said as you tucked a loose curl behind your ear. “I should leave you to it, I guess. Before we both end up in mall jail.” 

He shook his head quickly. “No! I mean, you could hang out here until I’m done. I just have a few more tables to clean and chairs to stack, if you want to—” He trailed off, looking at you expectantly. 

A sly grin spread across your features. “What? Are you trying to go home with me or something?” He stammered nervously, that same, cute blush growing on his cheeks. Before he could say anything, you took a step closer and peered up at him. “Because if you are, I might tell you that my roommate works nights at Hawkins General, and we’d have it conveniently all to ourselves.”

He swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do.”

You sat in the booth nearest to the entrance of the parlor, flipping through a magazine you’d grabbed from work. Occasionally, you’d sneak tiny peeks of Steve bent over a table to wipe it down, uniform stretched tight over his ass, and grin behind the pages. 

He got everything locked up in what he claimed was record time, flashing a smile as he closed up shop behind the two of you.

”Do you work tomorrow?” You asked, as casually as possible as the two of you approached your cars in the employee lot. 

“Yep. Afternoon shift,” he explained.

“I’ll drive you. We’ll carpool tonight.”

The car ride was relatively tame, a few stolen glances at stoplights at most. When you brought him inside the house, your phone was ringing off the hook. You apologized and ushered him into your room, where, true enough, the spare phone you used for the hotline was ringing nonstop. 

“Sorry, let me just…” You grabbed the phone and hung it up once, before taking it off the receiver completely. “There. No interruptions.”

Steve grinned, surveying your room carefully. The set of pom-poms from high school on a shelf, a stack of Cosmopolitan magazines, the chair full of your laundry— fuck, you should’ve definitely taken a moment to speed clean before letting him inside. 

“So… what do you say we pick up where we left off?” You stood on your tiptoes and pecked his lips chastely before guiding him towards your bed. As soon as he sat down, you wasted no time in crawling into his lap and kissing him with all of the pent-up frustration of weeks of phone calls. 

You kissed him for so long you’d have to come up panting for air, before diving right back in. His hands— Jesus, you’d never noticed how big his hands were— were splayed out over your hips at first, but had moved down to grab your ass, encouraging each movement as you rocked against him. 

Without breaking the kiss, you shrugged off your work vest, so it fell into a heap over the side of your bed. He pulled back, chest heaving slightly as he caught his breath. His lips were swollen from use and spit-slick. His eyes moved from the vest on the ground, then back to your eyes. A tiny laugh escaped you before you pulled off your top, then your bra. 

“This still okay?” You asked, as you stood briefly and tugged down your denim skirt. The sound of your voice felt almost foreign in the quiet room, while he took in the sight of you in nothing but a pair of panties.

“God, more than okay,” he assured, before pulling you onto his lap for another heated kiss. This kiss was needier— you could feel it in the hungry way he licked into your mouth, and the feel of him hard beneath you. Tiny gasps pushed past your lips as you rocked against him just right. 

He moved his hands from you only to pull off his work shirt, and the white shirt he wore beneath it. Your hands immediately went to his chest, running through the chest hair he’d hidden beneath the uniform. How the fuck did he manage to walk out of his house without being immediately pounced on by every woman in a five-mile radius?

 He placed one final kiss on your lips before pulling back and meeting your gaze. As earnestly as you’d ever, he asked, “Can I go down on you?”

Yes. Fuck, yes. Oh my god, yes. “Sure, if you want to.”

He smiled wide. “Yeah? Just relax for me, alright?” He shifted the two of you, so you were lying on the bed and he was on top of you. He planted a chaste peck on your nose, and you wrinkled it in reaction. 

You kissed him one, fleetingly, before letting him kiss down your chest and tummy. He parted your thighs and carefully positioned himself between them. You met his gaze and felt your stomach somersault. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the damp fabric of your panties.,

“Fuck,” he mumbled against you. “You’re soaking for me, huh?” And there was that cocky grin you’d seen at the mall before. You had to lie back and put a hand over your eyes, because if you thought about that fucking smug expression for too long, you’d cum untouched. 

He ran his tongue over the fabric of your panties, tasting you through the saturated satin once, twice before he pulled them down your legs. And he fucking moaned like a man starved at the sight of you. 

Heat burned in your cheeks as you felt him spreading you open, and at the slick, wet sounds of your own arousal. “You’re so pretty.” And then his tongue was on you, lapping up your juices, savoring all of you. 

“O-oh, fuck—“ Your moan came out like a sob as his nose brushed against your clit, making your thighs tremble. He moaned against your cunt, nuzzling deeper like he couldn’t get enough. 

In retrospect, he had brought up how much he loved eating pussy a lot on that first call. Your hips bucked slightly, torn between chasing the feeling and overstimulation. His lips would wrap around your clit and suck softly before he would go back to lapping at you, his tongue parting your folds and teasing your entrance. 

“St-Steve!” You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair. The slightest tug on his locks made him moan against you, which made your toes curl. 

Your moans became pitchy and breathless as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. All of your muscles were wound up tight, itching for release. 

All it took was a little bit of eye contact and you were done for. You sobbed out a moan as he lapped up your release— each lap of his tongue sending electricity up your nerves. When he finally relented, you were shaking with aftershocks and giggling. 

“Something funny?” He asked with a grin as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You sighed and spared a glance over at him. “I’ve been dreaming of that happening since our first call.” He grinned as you pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. 

“Did it meet your expectations?” He asked, swallowing nervously as you shifted to accommodate your hand between the two of you. His eyes fluttered shut as your hand slipped beneath his work shorts and boxers to grasp his cock in your hand. 

You gave a slow, experimental stroke of your hand and nodded. “Two thumbs up.”

He swallowed hard as you removed your hand to completely undress him, leaving you both completely naked. You spit into your hand and wrapped it back around his length, holding eye contact as you jerked him off.

There was something so surreal about the entire situation— having him beneath you, warm and pulsing and slick in your hand. Each time your thumb brushed along the head of his cock, he cried out with the prettiest moan.

“W-wait—“ he said quickly, a look of panic in his eyes. You stilled your hand as he looked at you, a pretty blush painting his cheeks. “I’m not gonna last.”

You bit your to keep from grinning like an idiot. “That’s okay,” you said with a smile. You reached into your bedside table and retrieved a condom. “Do you want to, uh, go all the way?” 

He nodded quickly. “Yes. Yes, please.”

You tore open the packet and rolled the condom on. “How’s that feel? Alright?” He gave a dorky thumbs up, which made you laugh. You leaned down to kiss him once more and wondered if you’d ever get tired of that feeling. 

You reached between the two of you and guided his tip through your folds, coating it in your arousal until you grew too needy and lined him up with your entrance. It was a stretch, even though he’d gotten you plenty worked up with his mouth. You sank down slowly, one hand splayed against his chest to keep you steady as you took in inch after inch. 

The sounds that escaped him as you lowered yourself onto him were so pornographic you thought he should be the one working the hotline instead. Desperate panting moans slipped past his full lips as his hands clawed at your hips.

“Fuck,” he moaned, eyes half-lidded as he watched you. “That’s it. You can take it.”

The mouth on him. You moaned softly as you finally settled onto his lap and he was fully sheathed within you. You stayed still, letting your body adjust to and relish in how full you felt. 

“You look so pretty right now,” he said, reaching up to brush a messy hair from your face. You laughed softly as your cheeks warmed, and a funny fluttering in your chest nearly stole your breath.

“Says you,” was all you could manage to say back. You were hyper-aware of the feeling of him within you, of each flutter of your walls around him.

You gave an experimental roll of your hips and his head fell back, against the pillows, exposing the column of his throat. You relished in the way he looked beneath you— debauched and needy. 

It was easy and slow at first. Each time you moved, you would lower yourself back down slowly, letting him savor the feeling of you, warm and wet and needy. He groaned each time you settled back on his lap, eyes hooded with lust as he looked up at you.

You gave a lazy smile as you looked down at him, moaning each time his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “Can I go a little faster?”

He nodded, eager for whatever you could give him. Your nails raked against his chest as you began to ride him in earnest, the back of your thighs slapping against his as you bounced on his cock. 

Your head fell back as you rubbed at your clit with your free hand. Soft moans spilled from your lips as you relished in the culmination of all of your fantasies. Because he was there, splayed out beneath you like a fucking pornstar, and you had him all to yourself. 

His fingers dug into the plush of your hips as he began meeting your thrusts halfway, fucking into the heaven between your thighs. 

Your eyes rolled back as he fucked himself deeper and deeper, stealing your breath with each thrust. “Close,” you practically squeaked out. Red marks stood out against the freckles skin of his chest where you searched desperately for purchase. 

Steve’s hair was stuck to his forehead, tacky from exertion. “Need you to cum for me,” he managed between pretty moans. “Wanna feel you cumming around me.”

You whimpered at his words, riding him harder as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave. A fucked-out moan escaped you as you collapsed against his chest, hips weakly stuttering as Steve continued fucking up into you. With your pussy gripping him like a vise, he could only manage a few good thrusts before he came with a groan. 

You laid there on top of him as you caught your breath, wearing a stupid, giddy smile as he traced mindless shapes onto your back. His face was buried in your neck, where he left sweet, wet kisses. After a while, you slid off of him and sighed, missing the way it felt when he was still buried inside of you. You did your best to clean yourself off with the towel hanging from your bedpost as Steve tied off the condom and tossed it in the bin. 

“We’re not just…” Steve began once you were both comfortable in your bed. He let the words linger for a moment before he shook his head. “Never mind.”

You turned on your side to face him, adjusting your blankets for a bit of modesty. “We’re not just fucking? That’s what you’re asking, right?” He nodded quietly. “It was nice, but no, that’s not all I want.”

He grinned. “Yeah? You wanna be my girlfriend? I totally pulled a cougar.” His stupid grin made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t keep a matching smile off of yours. 

“You’re so annoying,” you said, not giving him a second to react before your lips were on his again. You pulled back and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. 

In the morning, you woke up in his arms as sunlight crept through the window. You squinted at the sun, then back at him. “Still want me to drive you to work?”

“No way,” he said, muffled against the column of your throat. Soft kisses peppered against your skin, making you giggle and arch into him. “I’m calling in.”

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty one ⭐︎ Please, I've been on my knees, change the prophecy

Warnings: fluff in the beginning, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, angst, mentions of unrequited love, kind of a sexist comment directed at blondie

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You never held much hope in your heart but for only this once... you did and it got crushed just like everything else was in your life and now you will probably never execute your plan and everything will slip right through your fingers just like you always feared it would.

Word count: 8.8k

Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to roe, who always helps me with this story, ideas, dialogues etc. ily

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

Waking up to the phone ringing at full blast was not the best start for the morning. Steve’s gruff voice centers you as your head rises slowly from his chest, looking at him reaching for his phone on the bedside table and picking it up with a grunt. 

“Hello?” 

You can faintly hear Robin on the other side, not really hearing what she is saying, you are still so sleepy. You lay your head down on his chest again, closing your eyes as a soft yawn falls from your lips. 

Steve wraps his arm around you again, rubbing your side as he grumbles into the phone. 

“You– ugh… I thought you didn’t have to work today?-- Can’t you simply use your bike, the weather is nice,” his voice died down a little when he looked out his window, at the gray sky and the rustling trees, no sign of the heat and the sun from yesterday. He sighs and closes his eyes again, “fine, okay… fine.” He mumbles a goodbye before he hangs up the phone, putting the receiver back into place, he rubs his face and tightens his hold on you. 

You open your eyes again and prop your chin up on his chest, blinking at the beautiful man before you. 

Steve squints one eye open, a smile spreading on his lips when he looks at you, his hand falls to the back of your head, his fingers now running through your messy hair. 

“Morning, honey,” he whispers, already making you feel butterflies this morning. 

“Good morning, Stevie,” you whisper, giving him a sweet smile. 

“I wish it was a good one,” he grumbles and breaks eye contact for a moment so he can look at the clock on his nightstand. It’s only eight in the morning. “I’m tired and I gotta pick Robin up in an hour,” he murmurs words that leave you disappointed. 

You wanted more time with him before his shift… 

Steve squeezes your waist and pulls you up a little, attempting to pull you closer and you welcome it. You bring your hand up towards his face, brushing back the hair that hangs in front of his eyes, you move closer to him, no longer fighting the urge to kiss him first thing in the morning. 

You don’t know how his heart skips a beat and how the fire sparks within him when you press your lips against his, greeting him more properly with a soft kiss. If you knew, you would simply throw those three words out, right this second, you wouldn’t wait for a perfect moment, you wouldn’t wait for later. 

Steve hums against your lips and presses his mouth stronger against yours, getting lost in this sweet morning kiss. 

You smile against him and cup his cheek, nuzzling your nose against his. 

You can still feel the previous night with him, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours, his words, his actions, your plan for today, which unfortunately got postponed already. You have no doubts, not a single one. You were thinking about it the whole time before you fell asleep, last night, you thought about how you’d do it, what you would say to him, what words would be right to use. You wanted to do it in the morning, you wanted to take care of him, make him coffee and breakfast, the way he always does for you and then afterwards, you would do it, you would tell him, you would get the words off your chest that you never thought would see the light in this life. 

But something, someone already got in the way. 

When you pull away from one another, you don’t shy away from giving him another sweet smile, a deep look into his eyes, another peck to his lips. You catch him by surprise and you don’t even know it – how his heart is racing, how his mind crosses out all the anxious thoughts that spread inside of him last night after this sweet kiss. 

Steve’s hand is wrapped around your upper arm, his lips are tingling, his skin feels hot already, his eyes gaze into yours and he sees something that wasn’t there before or so he thinks. You look at him with a kind of softness that he feels a stranger to, you smile at him in a way you only did when you were drunk and clingy with him, you look at his lips as though you never want to stop kissing him. 

You fill him with hope again, the hope that began to dwindle the night before. 

“I’m gonna make you some coffee,” you whisper against his lips, squeezing his arm and blessing him with another smile before you pull away from him, leaving his side to his dismay. You push the covers off your body and place your feet on the ground. 

Steve places his arm behind his head, admiring the way your hair falls down your bare back, the way your naked body looks so heavenly. His cock stirs underneath the covers when you bend down to pick up your panties, exposing yourself to him, causing his hunger to grow in him. He would rather stay in bed with you, kiss every inch of your skin and worship you in every way possible, make you moan his name, make you see stars, make you cling to him because he is the only one you need. 

Clad in your underwear, you walk over to his dresser and pick out one of his shirts, completely ignoring your dress that hangs over his desk chair. You put on one of his only band tees that he owns, The Cure. He smiles, adoring the way his shirt looks on you. You pick out a pair of your shorts and put them on, tying the string at the front, you look over your shoulder and eye him up and down in a way that leaves him blushing. 

Steve’s mornings with you are always his favorites but something about today feels… different. Something about the way you look at him makes him feel happy, happier. 

He gets out of bed begrudgingly, he follows you into the bathroom after putting his boxers on, he brushes his teeth beside you and watches you through the mirror, sharing glances and smiles with you, he watches the way you brush your hair and the way you apply moisturizer to your skin and it hits him like it never did before, this moment is so intimate, just as intimate as any other moment you have shared lately. Every kiss, every touch, every glance, everything has changed, not just for him but also for you, despite his doubtful thoughts, he has to admit that it’s there, a change.

You wouldn’t do this with just anyone, right? 

You wouldn’t make coffee, let alone cook breakfast for just someone. 

You wouldn’t joke around and steal kisses from him if there wasn’t something. 

And you certainly wouldn’t play with his hand, entwine your fingers with his on the way back to your house if he was just casual to you.

And when Steve parks his car in your driveway and you turn to face him with a smile on your face, something else sparks in your eyes… nervousness, hope, giddiness, excitement.  You hide your face behind your hair after a moment of silence and he sees the way you take a few deep breaths before you look into his eyes again. 

“Do you want to spend the night with me… after the party?” You ask with a sudden shakiness that catches him off guard a little. 

“Of course,” he nods, furrowing his brows. 

This shouldn’t even be a question anymore.

“Okay, good,” you nod, whispering. “Are you coming with Robin?”

“Yeah, do you want me to pick you up too?” He asks, smiling. 

You shake your head, “no, it’s fine. I’m probably gonna go earlier and help Eddie with the snacks and everything.” 

Steve nods, “alright then, guess I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah,” you whisper and look into his hazel eyes as you begin to move closer, “I’ll see you there, Stevie.” 

You kiss his lips, making his smile even bigger. 

You pull away and gaze into his eyes for a moment, your smile matching his own. 

Steve feels a longing in his chest, a deep emotion that he can’t decipher yet as he looks into your eyes but something that he knows is that he doesn’t want to let you go in this moment, that he wants to kiss, kiss, kiss you until all his doubt is gone again, until he knows what you feel, until he knows that this is real. 

He watches you with a smile that never falls, not even when you walk away from him, not even when he can no longer see you after you step into your home and shut the door. 

His smile lingers, the way it always does because of you. 

It lingers on the whole drive over to Robin’s, the tingling sensation on his lips and in his stomach stays, the fluttering and the beat of his heart never lessens, hope seeps back in, taking over once again after this morning with you. 

And it all stays. 

It stays.

-

The clouds grow bigger and darker, looming over Hawkins like a dark veil, the wind howls through the trees, the leaves ripping off the branches and falling onto the pavement, the curtains in your room move strongly. 

You clutch your towel to your chest, not caring about the water that drips from your hair and onto your carpet, you quickly make your way over to the window that you forgot to close before your bath. You look out and up into the sky, feeling the anxiousness in you already seeping in. 

The storm isn’t any close yet but it’s brewing, the clouds get darker and they move faster as the wind seems to get stronger and stronger. Something is coming and you hope that you won’t be here, alone in this house anymore once it takes over fully, so you decide to get ready sooner than you wanted to. 

You turn on some music to drown out the noises from the howling wind. You sit down in front of your vanity and take a look at yourself in the mirror. The marks on your neck are clear, the happiness in your eyes even evident to yourself, the circles that always glow like shadows underneath them are no longer there, your lips curl into a smile as you touch the side of your neck where he kissed you, just the thought, the memory of it makes your heart and stomach flutter.  

You take a deep breath and begin getting ready, applying make-up to your face, using only his favorite colors as you put on eyeshadow and lipstick, words mingle together in your mind as you form sentences and prepare yourself for something that you never thought you would do. You rehearse it all in your head, growing more and more nervous as you do so. 

You don’t know how things will go, how they will end but one thing is for certain, tonight everything will change, no matter his reaction, things won’t be the same after this. 

You feel scared and anxious, you know that you could lose him tonight, you know that he could slip right through your fingers, you know that he could break your heart and crash it into a million pieces but even that thought isn’t enough to stop you from going after what you always wanted. 

Nothing can stop you, not yourself, not anyone else, not the storm building up behind you. 

You feel a giddiness, an excitement you haven’t felt in a while, you’re not sure if you ever felt it. 

You put on a pair of Levi’s and a white shirt, using the opportunity of the cool weather to wear your leather jacket today, you pick out your favorite jewelry and spritz his favorite perfume on your skin. You run your fingers through your styled hair and take another look at yourself in the mirror, glancing at your bed behind you and hope that tears won’t be shed into your pillow tonight. 

Despite the fears that linger, despite the storm moving closer and closer, your excitement runs deepest in your bones. 

You wonder what Eddie will say, think about your decision.

You know what Billy would think, what he would say, how he would look at you. 

You know that he’d be proud of you for going after what you want, he always waited for this moment. 

You remember the look on his face when you lied to him about what happened at Scoops Ahoy, you remember how he sighed and how he smiled sadly when you told him that you were too afraid to ask him out and never ended up going inside – you lied to him to protect Steve, you knew what he would do if you told him the truth about what really happened, you knew that Steve would lose another fight. 

It only feels right to take his car today, you rarely do it, you rarely take the Camaro out for rides but for the sake of keeping the battery alive, you take it out for late night drives or for short trips to the store whenever you get a sudden craving for something. 

It’s funny, maybe even eerie that the car still smells like him. It’s been over a year since he has been gone but his cologne still lingers. You don’t know whether that is the reason for the calming feeling in you whenever you’re inside of the Camaro or if it might be his ghostly presence. 

But whatever it is, it grounds you, it makes you feel warm and safe, even in the storm and even through your racing thoughts. 

When you arrive at Eddie’s and Wayne’s house, you park the car in their driveway, behind Eddie’s Impala. You sit there for a moment, not getting out of the car just yet, you take a few deep breaths and take another look at yourself in the mirror. 

You’re pretty sure that no one is here yet, you got here early, two hours earlier than you should be. Eddie won’t mind, he had been asking to hang out with you alone for a while now and as you look at his house, you’re hit with a sudden guilt, you have neglected him a little once you and Steve started spending more time with each other. 

When the rain starts pouring, you jump out of the car and quickly make your way over to his house, running up the porch steps and finding shelter beneath the roof, before you can even knock on the door or ring the bell, the door opens and a smiling Eddie greets you, his curly hair messy and wild, his eyes sparkling and pearly whites showing as his smile turns into a grin. He steps aside and lifts his arm, bowing playfully. 

“Welcome to the castle, milady.” 

A laugh falls from your lips, you shake your head at him as you walk inside. 

“Hi Eddie,” you snort. 

He chuckles at your eye roll, closing the door once you’re inside, he takes you in, the smile on your face, the sparkle in your eyes, the happiness and the excitement etched into your features. He crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Hey,” he smiles and squints his eyes at you, “how are you, sweets?” 

You take your jacket off and glance at your best friend, at his squinted eyes, at the curious look on his face.

“Peachy.”

Eddie nearly laughs, thinking you’re joking by using that word, you said it too enthusiastically, too happily, too excitedly. The smile on your face matches the tone in your voice though and there is something about you that looks different today, he doesn’t know what it is but there is something. Your hair is styled the way it always is but it's shining beneath the dim lights in the hallway, your skin is glowing, you just look happy. 

“You look pretty.”

You furrow your brows but smile even brighter. 

“Thank you, Eds.”

Your best friend steps towards you, he wraps his arm around you and starts leading you to his kitchen. 

“What’s up with the uh,” he pauses, pointing his finger at your face, “smiley face, you seem so happy today, did something happen or are you just that happy to see me?” He asks, chuckling. 

You roll your eyes at him and shake your head. The giggle that slips from your lips and echoes through his hallway makes him clutch his chest dramatically. 

“So, you’re not happy to see me?” He asks with a bewildered look on his face, “ouch.” 

You slap his arm playfully and push away from him when you both step inside the large kitchen, “dork. Of course I’m happy to see you.” 

Two paper bags filled with snacks and drinks are on the kitchen counter, nothing taken out of them yet, you instantly get to work, taking out the bags of chips and different kinds of candy he got for game night, movie night or whatever else this party’s theme will be. 

“I’m glad you’re here early,” Eddie says as he makes his way over to his fridge. 

“Why? So you got someone to fill the snack bowls?” 

He looks at you over his shoulder, sending you a glare, “do you think I see you as my maid or something?” 

“Yeah.”

He shrugs at you and turns back again, “don’t see you wearing a maid costume.”

You snort at him, “that would look ridiculous.” 

“I’m sure Harrington wouldn’t mind seeing you in one,” he cackles. 

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you have to hide your flustered face even though you know that he isn’t looking at you now. 

You know how protective Eddie feels over you, how he never approved of the situation you had gotten yourself into with Steve, how he wanted to protect you from the possible heartbreak that might be leading up to but despite his negative feelings about all of this, he had been calm in the past few weeks, less negative, less cold with Steve. 

Will he encourage you when you tell him what you want to do? 

Or will he think that you’re making a mistake? 

You watch as he takes out two beers from his fridge, placing them on the kitchen counter, for a moment he looks around for the bottle opener with a frown on his face before he decides to use his lighter instead, popping the caps with ease. He slides one of the bottles over the marble counter, putting it in front of you, he raises his eyebrows at you as his eyes flicker back and forth between the beer and you. 

With a chuckle, you push away the snacks and grab the beer, “party hasn’t started yet.”

“Party,” he snorts and brings his bottle up, clinking it against yours, “party is gonna be at Hopper’s wedding, I’m gonna get shitfaced with you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you mumble and take a sip of your beer. 

“Why? Are you scared you’re gonna get all cute and clingy with Harrington again?” He laughs, giving you a smug smile, reminding you of the fourth of july. 

You roll your eyes at him but you can’t hide the smile on your face, the smile that turns into a lovesick one as you think about last night. 

Eddie drinks his beer and watches you, the way your smile doesn’t fall, the way your eyes are basically hearts, the way you seem so giddy over something as you shift from one foot to the other. 

Had someone told him that he would get to see you like this a few months back, he probably would’ve laughed, he would’ve had more trouble believing that than what Dustin told him about the upside down when he was dragged into it. 

You always had a stone cold face, your smile only ever appeared when you said something snarky, you rarely showed feelings and you only ever rolled your eyes at anything someone other than Max or Lucas said, it took you time to get used to the others, to warm up to them, it was a surprise that you warmed up to him so quickly but maybe it was because you had some things in common, though while you built a defensive mechanism around you by being cold and even mean at times, Eddie used humor and indifference. 

Now you are standing here in front of him, a person so different from the one he befriended back in March. 

You are happy, you are glowing.

Eddie is just about to ask, his curiosity is killing him and he can’t wait no more to find out what’s gotten you so excited. 

“I’m gonna tell him.” 

He knows what you mean, he knows right away. 

“I-I don’t want to do this anymore, it’s just not enough. And I know what you’re gonna say but… I just want to do it, Eddie. We went to the city last night and we… we held hands and we kissed in the middle of the street and we talked for hours! He even started kissing me goodbye and I just… my feelings are getting stronger and I don’t even know how that’s even possible but I just… I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t tell him the truth and I know,” you pause to take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment before you look back up at him again, “I know how this can end, I know that he could reject me, break my heart and push me away but I need to try, Eddie. I want to try.” 

Eddie’s eyes soften, his shoulders slump as a sad smile crosses his face. 

The truth is, he is happy, proud of you for going after what you want but he is also scared, scared that this happiness that has just started showing will be taken away again when the man in question will shatter your heart to pieces. 

Despite Steve’s obvious affection towards you, he still struggles to see through him, to read him, to find out what he is feeling for you. And what he had been told by a certain someone, doesn’t help his doubt. Yet he can’t deny what he sees in Steve’s eyes. He can’t deny the possibility that he feels the same for you so who is he to intervene? To stop you from going after who your heart desires the most? 

You stare at your best friend, waiting for a reaction from him, his face is unreadable, his eyes distant but then he makes a move, he places his bottle on the counter and he walks towards you, surprising you by pulling you into his arms, he hugs you tightly and squeezes your arms. 

A confused smile spreads on your face but you don’t deny him, you wrap your arms around his middle. 

Eddie had always been affectionate, always stole hugs from you and a few others he considered close friends but usually it happened when he was hyper, drunk or high. 

“I’m proud of you, sweets,” he mumbles and takes a deep breath before he continues, “I’ll be there to cheer you on… with pom poms.” 

“Please don’t,” you giggle and pull back when he places his hands on your shoulders, his brown eyes are filled with kindness, his smile warm.

“Jokes aside, Harrington’s a really lucky guy, you know? You’re a catch, sweetheart and I’m not just saying that because I’m your best friend, you’re really fucking amazing and cool, he’d be really dumb and blind not to want you as his girl,” he grins, lifting his hand to tap your nose, “you’re a cutie.” 

You swat his hand away with a snort, “cutie…” 

“What, it’s true!” He laughs, his eyes glinting with amusement, he tilts his head to the side and his laughter dies down after a moment, a serious expression takes over instead and he squeezes your shoulder again, “but hey, no matter what happens, I’ll be there for you, okay?” 

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, trying to smile but failing to do so when your emotions spread inside of you like a fire, you don’t know what’s gotten over you, maybe it’s the kind eyes of your best friend or the caring tone in his voice, the brotherly love he feels for you, the protectiveness that reminds you of one you had gotten before. 

You appreciate him so dearly. 

“Thank you, Eddie,” you whisper.

He smiles at you and gives you a nod. 

“When are you gonna do it?” 

“Tonight, after the party.” 

He nods again, “alright, you gotta tell me how it went.” 

“I will,” you smile and look into your best friend’s eyes, taking a deep breath, you realize just how nervous you are when you exhale shakily. 

Eddie wants to take your nervousness, he wants to rid you of your anxiety and your fear of rejection, he wants to tell you that it’ll be okay, that things will work out, he wants to protect you but he can’t, and he won’t lie to your face when he is uncertain about it all, so all he can offer is comfort. 

And for you, it’s more than enough. 

“Now come on, let’s fill these snack bowls and order some pizza,” he grins and pats your shoulder before he steps away from you again. 

“Yeah,” you smile, tilting your head down, you look at your hand, at the missing hair tie around your wrist, the one that found home somewhere else. 

You don’t got a single clue to where this night will take you, not a gut feeling, nothing but as the time drags closer to the evening, your chest begins to fill with a kind of anxiety that makes you feel on edge, the one that prompts you to open a second bottle of beer when you finish your first, it doesn’t get you drunk, not even tipsy but it makes you feel a little calmer. 

And once everyone starts piling in slowly, you start relaxing a little more, especially when Nancy arrives and she instantly pulls you away from the others to talk about wedding preparations, about the color of her nails and the shoes she hasn’t settled on yet, about how excited Joyce was when she went cake tasting with her, Will and El. 

“Have you settled on a hairstyle yet?” Nancy asks you and takes a sip of the drink Jonathan made her. 

She noticed the way you kept looking over her shoulder while she was talking, the way your eyes kept moving back to the front door like you were waiting for someone. 

Everyone is already here, well, everyone except for Robin and Steve. 

You shake your head, “no, I’ll probably keep it open, I don’t know yet.”

“You should add a pink bow to your hair! It would match your heels!” 

You smile at her enthusiasm, at the smile on her face, at the kindness in her eyes. She has been such a good friend to you but sometimes it feels weird to get along with her, given her history with Steve. You wonder how she will react if the truth ever makes it to the light. 

“You think?”

She nods her head causing her curls to bounce just the way Eddie’s always do. 

“I might do that then,” you smile at her. 

“I can’t believe the wedding is in a few days already,” she says as her face grows a little serious, “and that I’ll be leaving for college soon…” Her voice falls a little quieter, her blue eyes search for her boyfriend who is standing on the other side of the room, checking out the vinyls on Eddie’s shelf. A look of sadness and longing crosses her soft features, her lips curling into a sullen smile. 

They are going to different colleges, their ways parting once again… for a while. You can see the sadness in them both, the looks they share as they spend their last days together. You have no doubt that they will make it, that they will push through this time of separation. Nancy and Jonathan are so deeply bonded, you can’t imagine one without the other permanently. 

“I’m gonna miss our shopping trips,” Nancy mumbles, directing her sad gaze at you now. “You should come visit me in Boston sometime! Before Christmas! You could fly in and we could go Christmas shopping together and enjoy a couple days there before we go back to Hawkins together!” 

You laugh at her lightened up eyes, at the happy grin on her face. 

It feels weird to think that far ahead when it’s something you never really do anymore, you rarely even think about the next week, let alone a holiday that is still so far away, a holiday that usually only saddens you and reminds you of what you had lost. 

“I’d love that,” you nod, smiling. 

Somehow her blue eyes lighten up even more and it makes you feel warm inside, you’re not the girl people ever tried to befriend and you never blamed them, you weren’t exactly open to making friends but for some reason the girl in front of you chose you and you don’t even know why. 

The doorbell rings at an unexpected moment, when you’re lost in your thoughts and unprepared to see him. You straighten your back and look over Nancy’s shoulder when Eddie rushes through the hallway to open the front door. 

You miss the look on Nancy’s face as she keeps her eyes on you, the curiosity flickering in her eyes, the knowing. 

You lick your lips and blink, heart already lurching to your throat when you hear Robin’s voice and wait for him to follow her inside but the door closes a little too soon for your liking and the lack of his voice and his presence makes you frown. 

Robin walks in by herself, Vickie isn’t by her side and neither is the one you have been waiting for. Her a little wet from the rain, a not so happy look deep in her features. 

Your eyebrows furrow and you can already feel the disappointment, the confusion settling inside of you so deeply that it makes you uncomfortable. 

Where is he? 

“Hey guys,” Robin smiles as she steps into the living room, waving at the teens who are in a hushed conversation that none of you seem to be allowed to hear. 

You notice the way her smile doesn’t match the look in her eyes or the rough tone in her voice. She doesn’t look at you but that doesn’t surprise you, not anymore. 

“Where’s Steve?” Dustin asks, beating you to the question that has been repeating itself in your head. 

Robin hesitates, she shifts from one foot to the other, twisting the rings on her fingers as her eyes meet yours briefly. 

“He’s not feeling well, he stayed home… he… has a migraine.” 

If there is one thing that you learned about Robin, it’s that she is either a fantastic liar or the most terrible one and right now, she is a terrible one. 

“Wait what?” Eddie mumbles from behind her, giving her the same look that you have given her, “he was fine earlier when I called him.” 

You don’t know what to feel at this very moment but worry is the biggest emotion of all. You would drop everything now to go and take care of him. 

“Well, he isn’t anymore, migraines come out of nowhere, he said he wants to be alone,” she grumbles and gives you a pointed look before she turns on her heel and leaves the living room to go into the kitchen. 

Jonathan and Nancy pay no mind to her little attitude, no one really is, except for you and your best friend. Eddie shoots you a concerned glance, furrowing his brows at you in question but you are just as lost as him. 

He watches how your expression falls, how your shoulders slump and your lips curl downwards. He sighs, wondering if Robin is telling the truth or if there is something else. He can’t stand to see the disappointment in your eyes when there was nothing but excitement and happiness just minutes ago. 

You excuse yourself to Nancy, not even noticing the look in her eyes as they follow you until you’re no longer in her sight. 

This moment reminds you of your first night with Steve, the same excitement that lingered in you then, the same one that was crashed when Robin arrived without him and told you that he went out with Heidi was crushed yet again, only this time, you know that he isn’t out on a date, he isn’t seeing someone else, he wouldn’t do that, not even if there are no feelings in him for you. Something else is going on, that deep unsettling feeling that takes home in you is proof of that. 

This isn’t like him, even if he did feel sick, even if he did have a migraine, he would’ve called you, he would’ve told you that he can’t stay with you tonight. 

You walk through the darkened hallway, not even flinching when lightning strikes outside, too absorbed in your anxious thoughts. You make your way into the kitchen where Robin is opening her beer, she rolls her eyes when she sees you and it really shouldn’t affect you this much anymore, she always has an attitude when it comes to you, it seems. 

“Hey,” you mumble, still trying to be friendly towards Steve’s best friend. 

“Hi,” she murmurs, grumpily. 

You don’t walk into the room any further, wanting distance between yourself and her. 

“What’s really going on?” You ask, not bothering to try and have small talk with someone who can’t stand your guts. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shrugs with a stoic look on her face. 

No matter how many times she had given you the cold shoulder before, it still surprises you sometimes to see her act so indifferent towards you. The girl who stuttered every time she tried to talk to you when you had just joined the group, the girl that always made you laugh and threw funny comments at you turned into this but she is only like that with you, no one else.

“Yeah, you do,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest, “I know you don’t like me, I don’t know what I did to you but–”

Her scoff cuts you off, she looks up at the ceiling and mumbles some words that you can’t understand and it only angers you even more. 

“Just tell me what happened, I was with him this morning and he was fine, he wanted to come here, he wanted to spend the night with me.” You are already pleading, showing emotions to a girl you probably shouldn't but you are desperate to know, to find out why he isn’t here.

She shakes her head at you and laughs, “I’m sure you’ll be fine without him, Blondie. You can always find another guy, it’s not like you had trouble finding some before,” she throws harsh words and a look of judgment your way, not giving you a chance to reply to her rude comment before she brushes past you and makes her way back to the group. 

Your stare is blank as you keep your eyes on the ground, not knowing what to feel, what to think, what emotions are swirling inside of you right now because suddenly there are too many of them. 

You found out how rude she can be with the comments and remarks she throws at you sometimes but she never judged you for your past, you never thought that she would do that. 

How could you ever want someone else? 

You never did before, not even when you were sure that he hated you, not even then did you want someone else. 

He is the only one for you, he will always be the only one. 

You glance at the telephone and you don’t think twice before you head towards it, basically ripping the receiver from its place, you quickly dial his number and press your back against the wall, waiting for the call to go through, waiting for him to pick up. 

Your feelings tell you that you won’t get any answers, not like this, not right now. 

It rings and it rings but nothing and that only makes you feel worse. 

Steve always picks up the phone, no matter what, no matter who might be calling, no matter what time it is, no matter if he is sleeping or not, he always picks up the phone, always. So this is only another sign for you, a sign that something isn’t right. 

“Hey.” 

You flinch, not at the thunder that just struck, but at Eddie’s voice, his eyes are filled with pity as they flicker back and forth between the receiver in your hand and your face. 

“Maybe he’s sleeping, he always does when he has migraines,” Eddie shrugs. 

You know he is trying to make you feel better, to take your anxiety and your anxious thoughts away from you but nothing, absolutely nothing will do but you don’t want to ruin his mood or anyone else’s so you put the receiver back and you go over to the fridge, reaching for a soda instead of a beer this time. 

You don’t want to be here, not anymore, you want to be with him, you want to check on him, see if he’s okay but the gnawing feeling in your chest makes you stay. 

The storm that rages outside taking over your mind as well as the questions in your mind grow louder and louder. 

“Come on,” you mumble without looking back, not baring to see the pity in his eyes any longer. 

Your best friend follows you without a word, making his way back into the living room with you. 

You smile at Max and sit down beside her, trying to distract yourself by talking to the girl but it’s not that easy, not when worry continues to rise in you, not even when Eddie sits down on the other side of you and tries to talk to you about anything but him. 

For the following hour, you feel restless. Scratch that, restless is an understatement, you are panicking. Eddie tries to comfort you, tries to take your mind off things by playing a drinking game with everyone else, laughing when El tries out beer for the first time, and sends the can flying without touching it in disgust. Not even that could take your mind away from the boy that occupies every second of your life now… and there’s a person in this party that knows exactly what is going on and is acting as if she doesn’t, drinking her fifth margarita of the night and smiling, talking with Jonathan. 

You reach a tipping point. 

“Fuck this shit, Eddie.” 

You slam your drink on the table, marching towards Robin and Jonathan while Eddie scrambles desperately behind you, trying to stop you. He had never seen you like this before. You are so determined, pushing through it all, just for the sake of knowing about Steve’s whereabouts. But he too is intrigued. He knows Robin knows something… but his chest compresses when he remembers the night before, hoping that it didn't have anything to do with what was happening right this second. 

He doesn’t want to be the cause of your pain. He hopes he isn’t. 

You stop in front of Robin with a frown on your face, not even apologizing for interrupting her conversation with Jonathan, for stopping her mid-sentence. 

“I need to talk to you.”

Jonathan looks up at you, a little surprised at the seriousness on your face and your sharp voice. He looks over your shoulder, glancing at Eddie who shakes his head at him, he only raises his eyebrows in response, he turns away and sips on his drink, walking towards Nancy. 

Robin clenches her jaw, she meets your eyes and stares at you for a moment, glaring back at you. 

You stand your ground, not looking away, not moving, not asking but demanding for her to follow you when you tilt your head in the direction of the kitchen before you walk off. 

Eddie looks around, relieved to see everyone busy with the monopoly game that Dustin brought. 

Robin gets up with a grunt, slamming her drink on the table just the way you did, she shoots a glare at Eddie before she turns around and walks after you with Eddie hot on her heels. 

You’re standing there with your arms crossed, your heart pounding in your chest and your anxiety burning by now. 

Robin mimics you when she walks in, crossing her arms over her chest as well, she looks you up and down before she shrugs at you. 

Eddie, who is already looking between the two of you nervously, closes the door, not wanting the others to hear but hoping that an argument won’t break out between you both. 

“What do you want?” Robin grumbles at you, her words slurring. 

You can’t lie and say that her glares, her dislike towards you, doesn’t sting a little but this isn’t the main focus now. 

“Where is Steve?” 

“I already told you–”

“I don’t fucking believe you, Robin!” You snap at the girl, throwing your arms up, “you’ve been lying to me from the moment you stepped into this house! I know he isn’t feeling sick, I know he doesn’t have a migraine, he would’ve told me! I saw him this morning, he wanted to come so don’t stay here and lie to my face! Tell me where he is and why he’s not picking up his damn phone!” 

Already breathing heavily after your little outburst, you stare at her in desperation, wanting, needing answers. 

Her gaze never changes though, it doesn’t soften, it’s still filled with dislike, and her lips curl downwards. 

“He doesn’t want to see you anymore,” she shrugs, throwing those words out as though they mean nothing. 

You would have believed her, if you weren’t so determined, if you weren’t so set on everything, you would have believed her. This would have worked on you months back but not now, not anymore, not after last night, not after this morning, and even if he did want that, he wouldn’t leave you in the dark like this. 

Eddie furrows his brows, looking at Robin who is so obviously lying yet again. 

“I don’t believe you, Robin.” You shake your head at her, stepping towards her. “I don’t believe you for a second.”

She blinks, eyes darting back and forth between you and your best friend before she redirects her glare at you. 

“Why do you even care so much? You can get dick elsewhere, Blondie! Leave him alone and don’t mess with him anymore, I think you have done enough!” 

Your eyes widen at the words that took a blow to your chest, your throat tightens and you shake your head in disbelief. 

You have done enough? 

What could you possibly have done? 

Eddie squints his eyes at the drunk girl before him, and he steps closer to the both of you. 

“Why doesn’t Harrington want to see her anymore, Buckley?” He asks carefully. 

Robin takes a deep breath and sighs, mumbling incoherent words under her breath, she runs her fingers through her short hair and tilts her head up, chuckling at the ceiling though not in amusement. 

And then she suddenly looks at you with the deepest frown you had ever seen in her features, a fire burning in her eyes as she sneers at you. 

“Because she is just going to break his heart sooner or later! She doesn’t feel anything for him!” She yells, pointing a finger at you. “She’s been playing with him from the fucking start, with his feelings and he is already suffering. I’m not gonna let her do worse!” 

You draw back, with your eyes wide and your face stunned, you don’t know what to say, you don’t know what to feel. 

The storm is raging outside just as the one in this kitchen is, it’s thundering at full blast and raining harshly but nothing fazes you now, not even the purple lightning. 

It takes you a moment, a long moment to realize the meaning behind her words and the moment they sink in fully, you feel the aching inside of you.

“W-What did you just say?” 

Eddie frowns at her, blinking as he looks at her, “Buckley… you told me Harrington didn’t feel anything…”

You glance at your best friend, confused about his words too, and you’re about to ask but Robin isn’t done just yet. 

“Why does that matter!? Why does she fucking care how he feels?” She points at you again, taking a deep breath before she continues, “she never did, never have, never will! She always treated him poorly, even in high school for fucks sake and you want me to believe that she feels something for him!?”

Heat spreads through your whole body, to your chest and your throat, to your face and lighting up everything inside of you in the worst way possible, making your skin tingle with rage and your eyes burn with tears. 

You don’t even think before you step towards her and grab her shoulders, pushing her up against the wall behind her, catching both her and Eddie off guard as you let your anger take over. 

“You don’t get to fucking dictate my own feelings! I always thought you were stupidly observant but now I realize you are dense with anything else around you besides two people! You are ignorant towards everyone else, never giving anyone the benefit of the doubt!”

Robin stares at you wide eyed, not knowing what to say or do. 

“If you looked at me, even for just one second you would have known how much I care for him. If you had given me that chance you would have seen just how much I feel for him! If you had even looked at me back in high school you would have seen that I have been hiding and suppressing these feelings for him, for fucking years!” 

“I–”

You shake your head at her, shutting her up with a simple glare. 

Tears blur your vision, your heart is pounding in your chest as you look at someone you once considered a friend. 

You don’t know what she said to him, what words she used to make him stay away but you don’t even know if you do want to know, rage runs deep enough already. 

“And you think I am this cold hearted bitch, well news fucking flash, Buckley, you never got to know me at all, so you have no right to say that! You have no right to judge my own heart!” 

Robin’s blue eyes shine with tears, her features now softening and twisting into regret as realization dawns on her. 

Eddie stands there in shock, not knowing how to be of help. 

“So… you… for Steve–” Robin stutters, whispering. 

Your bottom lip trembles as hot tears fall from your eyes, the excitement that lingered in you all day has turned into fear. You don’t know where he is, what he thinks, what he feels now that this has been ruined, if there is still a chance for you to fix something you didn’t even break. 

But even through all this, you now know that there is, there was a chance. She wouldn’t hate you over nothing, she wouldn’t feel so protective of him if there were no feelings involved. 

Fear envelopes your heart so fully and strongly that it nearly paralyzes you. 

What if it’s done?

What if it’s over now?

You tremble and your tears cascade down your face, you don’t bother to hide them, to wipe them away, to hide your pain from the one who caused it. 

You breathe in shakily and step away from her, finally letting go of her. 

“There is no way in hell you will be the first to hear those words coming out of my mouth. I won’t say it out loud for the first time unless it is with him.” 

Those are your last words to Robin before you turn on your heel and walk away from her and from your best friend, who doesn’t even try to stop you. 

With tears rolling down your cheeks and an anxious heart, you rush out of the kitchen and through the empty hallway, you grab your jacket and the keys to Billy’s car, not even bracing yourself before you walk straight into the storm, not caring about your pounding heart when thunder crashes above you and the wind blows strongly against you as the rain envelopes you on your way to the car, wetting through your clothes and sending shivers down your spine. 

You jump into the car with your hair clinging to your face already, rain and tears mingling together and running down your hot cheeks. You try to blink your tears away but to no avail, they keep building up and falling, your throat tightening more and more each passing second as a sob threatens to fall from your lips. 

You start the car and grab the steering wheel, sniffling as you hold onto it tightly, breathing in the air around you, clutching your hand around the leather as though you’re trying to find comfort in something that used to belong to the person that always encouraged you to fight for this, for him. 

Everything inside of you is crumbling now, to pieces, to shambles. 

You look at the sky and you do something you have never done before, you beg, you beg for that one thing to work out, you would fall to your knees if you had to. You can’t lose this, you can’t lose him. 

You back out of Eddie’s driveway and slam your foot against the accelerator causing the tires to screech as you speed down the road. 

Your hands are trembling just the way your whole body does, your ears are ringing, the rain that paddles down the windows matching your tears. 

Her words echo in your mind, all the hurtful things she said about you don’t even come close to the pain you feel when you think about him. 

You never wanted him to hurt, not for a single second. 

You would have taken all the pain just to protect him from it all, knowing that he is aching because of you, brings a deeper pain to you than ever before and you don’t know how he will react to seeing you, if he even wants to see you now but you are willing to try and you are willing to fight. 

You can almost feel a little shock coming through the leather of the steering wheel. Something that wants to prompt you into letting go and finally park in front of his house. Something that is pushing you into being strong, to fight, to finally jump over the hole to reach the other side. It’s almost as if you could hear the words…

You can do it sweets…

Steve’s car is in the driveway, the TV light flickers through the living room window, he is here, he is home and you don’t waste any more time, you park the car behind his, you jump out and back into the cold rain. 

The water splashes beneath your sneakers, the thunder makes you flinch this time but you clench your fists and rush towards his house, ringing the bell and slamming your fist against the door over and over again, yelling his name. 

You feel the hotness from your tears and the shaking of your lips, not because of the cold rain but because of the emotions bleeding through you. 

You wait and you wait, fearing that he might not open, that he can’t even stand to see you anymore, that he won’t give you the chance to talk, to tell him how you really feel. 

You slam your fist against the door again, knocking a few times as broken sniffles fall from you while the storm rages behind you. 

What must be a few seconds that you’re waiting out here, standing in the pouring rain, feels like forever. 

Your heart beats against your ribcage, the coil in your throat beginning to choke you and you can’t even see through your blurry vision anymore. You taste the saltiness from your tears, you feel the panic sinking deeper and deeper. 

You’re still begging and it takes everything in you not to crumble to your knees. 

And then, Steve opens the door with bloodshot eyes, a piercing gaze that threatens your hope, that threatens your resolve. 

A gaze that says “it’s done.”

You’re both done.

♡

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.

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