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oceansdesire · 2 years

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Stranger Things Request Master List

This is a current list of writers taking Stranger Things requests. All writers listed have been contacted prior to being listed. If you would like to be added or suggest an author please send me a message.

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Angst/Fluff

If you would like to be added or recommend an author message me or fill out this form

A/N: I will be doing a list over hall soon to make the navigation and overall user experience better. If you have any suggestions please drop them in my ask box. Along with that I will also be posting author highlights as well so look out for those. Love y'all.

A/N: I have been sick for a while so if any info needs to be updated feel free to message me

All Author Listings

@sarahisslytherin

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots, Fics, Blurbs, Mood Boards, Playlists Will Write: Eddie, Steve, Fluff, Banter Won’t Write: Dark!Fic SFW/NSFW: SFW Note: Request refusal at author discretion

@classickook

Request Type: Drabbles, Blurbs Will Write: Eddie, Steve, Fluff Won’t Write: Dark, Taboo, Poly, SA, Drug Use, ED, SH, Kidnapping SFW/NSFW: Both

@keeryshouse

Request Type: One Shots, Fics Will Write: Steve, Fluff, Angst Won’t Write: Sad Endings SFW/NSFW: Both

@seolaseoul

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots, Blurbs Will Write: Steve, Eddie, Fluff, Angst Won’t Write: Smut, Dark, Triggers SFW/NSFW: SFW

@foreverrogers

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots, Head Canons, Blurbs Will Write: Steve, Eddie, Fluff, Angst Won’t Write: Dark, Non-Con, Dub-Con, RPF SFW/NSFW: Both

@delicrieux

Request Type: Drabbles Will Write: Angst, Fluff Won’t Write: SA, SH, Age-gap, SFW/NSFW: Both

@yellowharrington

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots, Fics, Blurbs Will Write: Eddie, Steve, Fluff Won’t Write: Cheating, Pregnancy, Kids, CNC, Triggers SFW/NSFW: Both

@ssweetleaf

Request Type: One Shots, Drabbles Will Write: Eddie, Steve, Open to Others, Fluff, Angst Won’t Write: SA, Pregnancy, Underage SFW/NSFW: NSFW Note: x reader content only

@s1ater

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots, Fics, Mini Series, Head Canons, Blurbs, Mood Boards Will Write: Eddie, Preference: Steve, Fluff, Angst Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW:Both

@plus-size-reader

Request Type: Fics, Head Canons Will Write: All Character, Fluff, Angst Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW: SFW mostly, open to NSFW

@wildieflower

Request Type: Any Will Write: All Characters Won’t Write: Incest, Taboo SFW/NSFW: SFW

@1986harrington

Request Type: One-Shots, Drabbles Will Write: Steve x Reader Won’t Write: Pregnancy SFW/NSFW: Both

@givemearock

Request Type: Drabbles, One-Shots, Headcanons Will Write: The Older Teens, The Party, Hellfire Club, Fluff, Angst, Ships Won’t Write: NSFW,BSFW, Underage, Taboo, Incest, Illegal Ships SFW/NSFW: SFW

@stranger-than-fictionn

Request Type: One Shots, Fics, Mini Series, Preferences Will Write: Fluff, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Robin, Argyle, Jonathan, Hopper, Joyce?, Billy? Won’t Write: Non Con, Fluid Play, Non Canon Deaths, SFW/NSFW:Both Note: NSFW Requests 18+ Only

@runawaymunson

Fic Concepts Only

@sharpsapphic666

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots, Fics, Head Canon Will Write: Eddie, Steve, Robin Won’t Write: Major Angst SFW/NSFW: NSFW Mostly

@perksofbeingpayton

Request Type: Any Will Write: All Characters, Fluff, Angst Won’t Write: Underage SFW/NSFW: Both Note: Fluff only for younger characters

@hawkins-losers

Request Type: One-Shots, Blurbs Will Write: Fluff, Angst, Robin, Eddie, Billy, Steve Won’t Write: Pregnancy, SA, Non Con, ED, Feet, Anal SFW/NSFW: Both Note: Requests are subject to author discretion

@cierrawrites

Request Type: Any Will Write: All Characters Won’t Write: Fluid Play, Underage, Taboo SFW/NSFW: Both

@thatonegirlwhowrites

Request Type:Drabbles,One Shots,Fics,Mini Series, Head Canon, Blurbs Will Write: Fluff, Angst,Eddie, Nancy, Steve, Robin, El, Max, Lucas, Dustin, Mike Won’t Write: SH, SFW/NSFW:Both Note: SFW Only for younger characters

@wannabeschyulersister

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots, Mini Series, Blurbs Will Write: Fluff, Angst, Preference: Eddie,Steve, Acceptable: Nancy,Robin,Jonathan, Won’t Write: Triggers, SFW/NSFW: Both

@will-on-the-internet

Request Type: Fic Will Write: Eddie x Steve, Reader x: Eddie, Jon, Steve, Robin, Won’t Write: Feet, Abuse, Taboo SFW/NSFW: SFW

@munsonsmuse

Request Type: Fic, Oneshot, Drabbles, Blurbs, Headcanons Will Write: Eddie, Steve, Fluff, Angst,Fitx-it, Fem!reader, GN!reader, Steamy Won’t Write: NSFW, Dark!Fic, Taboo SFW/NSFW: SFW Note: Angst will always have happy ending per author's preference

@willbyers-buffbunny

Request Type: Fic, One Shots, Imagines, Headcannons Will Write: Male!reader, FtM!Reader, Crossdressing, Poly, Non- 80s au, Hybrid au, Won’t Write: Fem!Reader, GN!Reader, Gore, Angst, Non-Con, Age Gap. SFW/NSFW: SFW

@familyvideostevie

Request Type:Drabbles, Blurbs, Fic Ideas Will Write: Steve x Reader, Eddie x reader, Fluff Won’t Write: Pregnancy, Violence, Angst SFW/NSFW: SFW

@upsidedownwithsteve

Request Type: Drabbles, One-Shots Will Write: Steve x Reader Won’t Write: AU’s, pregnancy, future fics,Dub-Con, Taboo SFW/NSFW: Both

@sinclaiirs

Request Type:One-Shots Will Write: Mostly Steve, Some Eddie Won’t Write: at author discretion SFW/NSFW: Both

@hellfirexclub

Request Type: Any Will Write: pretty much anything Won’t Write: Non Con, Underage SFW/NSFW:Both

@lil-stark

Request Type: All Will Write: Soft, Rom-Com, Fluff, Steve, Eddie Won’t Write: Violence, Gore, SFW/NSFW:Both

@creelhousesteve

Request Type: One-Shots, Fic Will Write: Robin, Steve,Dark!Fic Won’t Write: SA, Taboo SFW/NSFW: Both

@magicchai

Request Type: One Shots, Drabbles, Blurbs, Headcanons Will Write: Fem!Reader, GN!Reader, PlusSize!Reader, Steve, Eddie, Platonic!Robin, Won’t Write: Smut, Drug Use, Drunk SFW/NSFW: SFW

@hellfireclubmember

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots Will Write: Steve, Robin, Eddie, Nancy, Jonathan, Fluff Won’t Write: SA, Abuse, Slurs, Incest, Taboo SFW/NSFW:Both Note: Robin x Fem!Reader Only

@maryam-444

Request Type: Any Will Write: Fluff Won’t Write:Male!Reader, Non-Con, SFW/NSFW: Both Note: No more than 4 character per request

@xtrafluffyteddy

Request Type: Any Will Write:Steve, Eddie, Steddie Won’t Write: Non-Con, Graphic Abuse, SFW/NSFW: Both, SFW preference

@hellfirewhores

Request Type: One Shots, Fics Will Write:Steve, Eddie, Robin, Angst, Fluff Won’t Write: Taboo SFW/NSFW: Both

@guccisweatpants

Request Type: Imagines Will Write: Steve, Robin, Nancy, Smut, Fluff, Angst Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW: Both

@constillatedchaos

Request Type: Any Will Write: Won’t Write: Stalking, Non-Con, Age Play SFW/NSFW:Both

@familyvideostevie

Request Type: Drabbles, Blurbs, Fic Ideas Will Write:Steve x Reader, Eddie x Reader, Fluff, Fem!Reader, GN!Reader, Won’t Write: Pregnancy, Violence, Angst, Taboo SFW/NSFW: SFW

@wrenniebaby

Request Type: One Shots, Drabbles Will Write: Won’t Write: Billy, Chrissy x Eddie SFW/NSFW: Both

@maladaptive-day-dreams

Request Type: Fics, Drabbles, One Shots Will Write: Eddie, Fluff, Angst, Fluff, Of-Age Characters Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW: Note: Request refusal at author discretion

@eddiemunscum

Request Type: Drabbles Will Write: Fluff Won’t Write: SA, ED SFW/NSFW: Both

@fanatictypist

Request Type: Drabble, One-Shot Will Write: Eddie, Argyle, Steve, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, AUs, Fluff, Some Angst Won’t Write: Non Con, Dub Con, SFW/NSFW: SFW, Smut requests are last priority

@steveharringtonarchives

Request Type: Fic Ideas Will Write: Fluff, Angst Won’t Write: Non Con, ddlg, Pedophilia, Incest, Taboo SFW/NSFW: Both

@fanfics-i-write-in-my-spare-time

Request Type: Drabbles, Fics, One Shots Will Write: Fluff, Most Adult Characters Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW:Both Note:Check Masterlist for characters

@taiyothewriter

Request Type: One Shots, Drabbles Will Write: POC!Reader, Male!Reader Won’t Write: Billy, Dead Dove, Dark!Fic SFW/NSFW: Both

@mytheoristavenue

Request Type: One Shots, 2k - 4k Will Write: All Character, Fluff, Smut, Angst Won’t Write: Jason, Billy SFW/NSFW: Both Note: Younger characters are fluff only

@chopper-witch

Request Type: One Shots, Drabbles Will Write: Anything, Fluff, Angst, CNC, Preference: Nancy, Robin, Steve, Eddie, Argyle, Jonathan Won’t Write: Underage, Taboo SFW/NSFW: Both

@staticfangz

Request Type: Blurbs, Drabbles Will Write: Preference: Eddie Won’t Write: Underage SFW/NSFW: Both

@nostalgiaenthusiast

Request Type: Any Will Write: Steve, Eddie, Enzo, Robin, Fluff, Smut Won’t Write: Racism, Underage, Taboo, SFW/NSFW: Both Note: Will not deviate from confirmed sexuality

@feverdreqmz

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots Will Write: Won’t Write: Dark!Fic SFW/NSFW:SFW

@jvblood

Request Type: Any Will Write: Fluff, Angst Won’t Write: Major Death SFW/NSFW: Both

@danowie

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots Will Write: Anything, Fluff, Smut Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW:Both Note: Request refusal at author discretion

@wrenniebaby

Request Type: Blurb, Headcannons Will Write: Preference: Eddie, Fluff, Acceptable: Nancy, Robin,Steve, Jim, Angst, Smut Won’t Write: Eddissy, Billy, Underage SFW/NSFW: Both

@denim-mixtapes

Request Type: Fics Will Write: Preference: Eddie, Steve, Acceptable: Robin, Nancy, Hopper Won’t Write: Heavy Angst SFW/NSFW: Both

@turdmongler

Request Type: One Shots, Headcannons, Will Write: Anything Won’t Write: Taboo SFW/NSFW: Both Note: No Male NSFW content

@mad-elia

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots, Fics, Blurbs Will Write: Preference: Eddie, Fluff, Accepted: Robin, Steve, Nancy, Argyle, Jonathan Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW: SFW

@pappydaddy

Request Type:Fic Will Write: Won’t Write: Smut SFW/NSFW:SFW

@eyedrisaol111

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots Will Write: Eddie, Jonathan, Argyle, Fluff Won’t Write: Taboo SFW/NSFW: Both

@ridestomars

Request Type: Headcanons, Blurbs, Moodboards, Playlists Will Write: Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Fluff Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW: SFW

@bxnnywriting

Request Type: All Will Write: Eddie Munson Won’t Write: Dub-Con SFW/NSFW: Both

@helpwhatsthis

Request Type: All Will Write: Won’t Write: S.H. or S.A. SFW/NSFW: Both

@hopefulfuturenovelauthor

Request Type: Fic, One Shot, Mini Series, Drabble, Headcanon Will Write: Some Violence, Some Gore, Reader-Insert: Gender-Neutral, Female,Male Won’t Write: Underage, Unwanted, Forced SFW/NSFW: SFW Only

@eddiesmunsonss

Request Type: One-Shots Will Write: Most Things Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW: SFW Only

@0hollowpurple0

Request Type: One-Shots, Drabbles Will Write: Most Things, Male!Reader, Gender-Neutral!Reader Won’t Write: Fem!Reader, Hardcore Kinks SFW/NSFW: Both

@bunnyhoney111

Request Type: All, Fic Preference Will Write: Female!Reader, Plus-Size!Reader Won’t Write: Male!Reader SFW/NSFW: NSFW Preference

@mvunson

Request Type: All Will Write: Literally Anything Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW: Both

@eminems-skittles

Request Type: Drabbles/blurbs, One-Shots, Headcanons, etc. Will Write: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Suggestive, Fluff Prerence, Won’t Write: characters outside of listed SFW/NSFW: SFW Only

@petertinglesforbread

Fic Ideas Only SFW/NSFW: Both No Requests

@sapphireplums

Request Type: All Will Write: Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW: SFW Only

@eddiemunsonssoulmate

Request Type: Fic, 1k-3k word length Will Write: Most Things Won’t Write: Taboo / Weird SFW/NSFW: Both Note: has post FAQ

@where-is-francis

Request Type: All, Headcanon preference Will Write: specific ideas, Male!reader, GenderNeutral!Reader,Poly Won’t Write: Taboo SFW/NSFW: Both Note: has posted rules list

@aphrogeneias

Request Type: Drabbles, One-Shots Will Write: Preference: Eddie, Steve, Robin Won’t Write: Dark Fic SFW/NSFW: Both

@theoreticslut

Request Type: Fics, Drabbles, Headcanons, Moodboards Will Write: Eddie,Steve, Nancy, Robin,Jonathan Won’t Write: Taboo SFW/NSFW: Both

@boldlyvoid

Request Type: Blurbs, One-Shots and Fics upwards of 10k words Will Write: Eddie Munson x Reader Only Won’t Write: Blowjobs, Piss or Blood play SFW/NSFW:Both

@anangelwhodidntfall

Request Type:Fics, Drabble, and One-shots Will Write: Preference Eddie, Fluff Won’t Write: NSFW SFW/NSFW: SFW

@catonthesideoftheroad

Request Type: All Will Write: Preference: Eddie, Steve, Nancy, and Robin Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW: Both

@thefreakymunson

Request Type: All Will Write: Open Won’t Write: Non-Con, Abuse, Body Fluid SFW/NSFW: Both

@vintageobx

Request Type: All Will Write: Preference Steve, Eddie, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy Won’t Write: NSFW, Smut SFW/NSFW: SFW

@midnightreid

Request Type: Fic Will Write: Eddie x Steve, Reader x: Eddie, Jon, Steve, Robin, Won’t Write: Feet, Cheating, Abuse, Taboo SFW/NSFW: NSFW

@will-on-the-internet

Request Type: Fic Will Write: Steve, Jon, Eddie, Robin Won’t Write: Feet, Cheating, Abuse, Taboo SFW/NSFW: SFW

@greengoblinswifey

Request Type: All Will Write: Open, Stepcest Won’t Write: Incest SFW/NSFW: Both

@prettyboyeddiemunson

Request Type: Fics, Drabbles, One-shots Will Write: Open Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW: Both, NSFW 18+

@moonlightsolo

Request Type: All Will Write: Mildly Suggestive Won’t Write: NSFW, Smut SFW/NSFW: SFW Note: x Reader Fics only

@thestoryden

Request Type: All Will Write: Vampires, Fantasy, Bullying, Comfort Won’t Write: Pregnancy, Cops, Race/Ethnicity Fetish SFW/NSFW: Both

@toomanyfictionalboyfriends

Request Type: All Will Write: All-Characters, Canon Violence Only Won’t Write: Incest, Pseudo-Incest, Taboo SFW/NSFW: Both Note: NSFW is 18+ Only, All-must be age appropriate/Aged-up

@inklore

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots Will Write: Anything Won’t Write: Pregnancy, Sibling!Reader SFW/NSFW: Both

@uselsshuman

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots Will Write: Gender Neutral!Reader, Female!Reader Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW: SFW

@peterthepark

Request Type: Fics, One Shots Will Write: Won’t Write: Triggering Content, Cheating SFW/NSFW: Both

@riouri

Request Type: All Will Write: Preference: Billy, Eddie, Steve, Sibling!Reader Won’t Write: Self-Harm,Suicide SFW/NSFW: SFW mostly

@eddiebun

Request Type: All Will Write: Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW: Both

@mggswhorificlover

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots Will Write: Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW: Both

@heytherejulietx

Request Type: Fics, One Shots, Drabbles, Blurbs Will Write: Hurt-Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Platonic, Romantic, Familial Platonic Won’t Write: NSFW SFW/NSFW: SFW

@mrvlbimbo

Request Type: All Will Write: Won’t Write: SA, SH, Sibling!Reader SFW/NSFW: NSFW mostly

@retrofeverdreams

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots, Headcannons, Fics Will Write:Fluff, Smut, Angst, Female!Reader, Gender Neutral!Reader, Preference:Eddie, Steve Won’t Write: Incest, BDSM SFW/NSFW: Both Note: Requesters must be 18+

@two-red-lungs

Request Type: Fics, Drabbles, One Shots Will Write: Steve x Eddie x Reader, Eddie x Fem!Reader, Steve X Fem!Reader Won’t Write: Underage, Billy Hargrove, SFW/NSFW: Both, NSFW preference

@heartvouge

Request Type: All Will Write: Steve x Reader, Eddie x Reader Won’t Write: Fluid Play, Suicide, DDLG, Taboo SFW/NSFW: Both

@eddiemunsonswhxre

Request Type: One Shots Will Write: Eddie Munson, All Characters/Ships Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW: Both

@fairymunson

Request Type: One Shots, Drabbles Will Write: Won’t Write: Billy, Chrissy x Eddie SFW/NSFW: Both Note: One Request per Ask

@la-duvalin

Request Type: One Shots Will Write: Dark!Fics, Fluff Only with Angst, Eddie Munson Only, Peter Ballard Only Won’t Write: Fluid Play, Underage, SFW/NSFW: Both, NSFW Preference

@ladylannisterxo

Request Type:One Shots, Drabbles, Blurbs, Concepts, Headcanons Will Write: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Eddie, Steve, Billy Won’t Write: Underage SFW/NSFW: Both Note: open to other character if discussed prior

@thefinalgirlpng

Request Type: All Will Write: Steve, Eddie, Won’t Write: Pregnant!Reader, Parent!Reader SFW/NSFW: Both

@saintlessmunson

Request Type: Drabbles, Blurbs, One-Shots (depending) Will Write: Eddie, Steve, AU, Dark!fic Won’t Write: ddlg/age regression, fluid, foot fetish, pedophilia SFW/NSFW: Both Note: Scenario preference: bartender, motel, trailer park

@maycat-19-142

Request Type: Blurb, Drabble, Head-cannons, Fics Will Write: Comfort Won’t Write: NSF, Yandere SFW/NSFW:SFW

@hellfireclubofficial

Request Type: Drabbles, Blurbs Will Write: AU, Eddie, Steve, Robin Won’t Write:SA, Mental Health Issues, Pregnancies SFW/NSFW:SFW, Some Suggestive

@munsonshandcuffs

Request Type:Fic Will Write:Eddie, Hard Kinks, Soft Smut Won’t Write: SFW/NSFW:NSFW

@glasvera

Request Type: One Shot, Drabble, and Headcanon Will Write: Eddie, Steve, or Robin x Fem!Reader Won’t Write: Underage, Taboo SFW/NSFW: Both Note: Don’t request characters outside of specified

@centralperksfunds

Request Type: Fic Will Write:Eddie x Fem!Reader, Angst Won’t Write: Taboo, Trigger, S.H. , S.A. SFW/NSFW: Both

@mggswhorificlover

Request Type: Drabbles, One Shots Will Write: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan Won’t Write: Taboo SFW/NSFW: Both

211 notes · View notes

myosotisa · 7 months

Text

‖ tags: smut, somnophilia, size kink, p in v, praise kink

‖ word count: 380

the two of you have had sex 3 times and you've never been able to take all of him because you just get too in your head about how huge he is. he's so patient with you, never rushing you, prioritizing your comfort over anything else. making suggestions to try to make it better, or saying he'll just fuck you with half so it doesn't hurt you, or that the two of you don't have to do anything at all if you don't want to.

you feel bad, self conscious, slightly ashamed, apologetic. he assures you it's more than fine, sex with you is amazing even if you can't take all of him. but. he knows it's all in your head. he knows your body can take it. he asks if you trust him and of course you say you do.

you wake up on your stomach, naked from the waist down and your shirt rolled up to your armpits. it's hot and sweaty and disorienting but holy shit what is that feeling?!

"there she is," he says in a deep voice, rough from how quiet he's trying to be. "good morning beautiful"

you go to say good morning back but it's cut off with an unexpected moan, a feeling deep inside you shifting. "feel that?" he murmurs, sounding a bit cheeky but so utterly pleased. to make his point more clear he rolls his hips, adjusting his thick cock inside you, and holy fucking shit he's balls deep.

"knew you could take it, baby," he says proudly when you gasp, fingers twisting in the sheets beneath you. he pulls back an inch or two and pushes back in, your back arching as you let out a choked moan. he's so deep, you've never felt anything like this before.

"just had to take your big, nervous brain out of the equation. knew it the whole time - your pussy was begging for it, crying for it. and now you're soaking me, sh-iiit, like you were made for my fat cock," he groans, continuing to slowly shift in and out of you, your muscles clenching around him on each drive forward. "so fucking perfect baby. just keep taking it like a champ and I promise to make you feel so good you'll never worry about me fucking you like this ever again."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #reader insert smut #didnt mention a name but you thought of him didnt you #choose your own cock adventure #myos ideas

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 6 months

Text

pillow talk

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

wc: 1K

warnings: this is post activities, so its safe. just sweet sweet fluff

summary: post sex discussions

A/N: used the prompt sweet after sex by @jasminesfury *not proofread, i’m confusing myself so badly looking at one specific sentence*

masterlist / steve harrington

the sun was setting. orange and yellow hues sparkled through the windows that the curtains let peek through. the room was quiet, the only noises coming from the shared breathing and the rustling of the bedding. the room felt hot with the door closed and the previous activity that had you and steve just laying in bed with the sheets up to your naked, sweaty chests.

steve rolled over and changed from laying on his back to his stomach, staring at his ceiling while adjusted his body so his head lay on your stomach. he had one leg in and the other out, your right leg in between. steve managed to wiggle an arm under your back as his free hand drew whatever came to mind onto your sticky belly.

a tilt to your head as it lay on the pillow, a lovesick smile tugging the seams of your lips. a hand fell on steve’s head and you began running the digits through his thick head of brown hair with a few lighter parts popping out from his time in the sun. nails scratching at his scalp to pull vibrating groans or fingers twirling strands of ruly hair around.

steve rubbed his open palm over your waist and down to your thighs before trailing up again. his wonderful lips plant wet, open-mouth kisses over your stomach and the imperfections scattered over your lower half. his nose would glide over your belly button before setting his chin just above it to peer at your with lidded eyes.

“yes, handsome?” you hummed as you pushed hair behind his ear.

“i love you.”

three words, eight letters.

the two of you have said them for years. at first just surface level meaning, friendly-familia meaning, something you say in passing to your parents as you leave the house in a hurry or friends when they do a favor for you. but eventually, the words held a different meaning for the two of you. it would be lingering touches and eye contact maintained longer that was acceptable. staring at steve’s side profile as he talked, letting your thoughts run away from you with imaginary scenarios before shaking them away and landing back to reality.

and now the words held all those meanings, silver bands wrapped around ring fingers showing the world.

“i love you too, stevie.” thumb straightening his left brow into place.

steve rubbed his thumb up and down at your hip bone. more kisses pressed to your stomach, some quick and open, some more lingering, and some with heat as he gave little bites at the skin. you would giggle or squirm, a moan pulled from your throat when the feel of his lips felt tantalizing. fingers would curl and pull steve’s hair in response, you would feel the smile as he continued his loving assault.

“you know,” lingering kisses to your lower stomach, “i can’t wait to have kids with you.”

“oh, yeah?” top teeth biting into your bottom lip to stop a smile.

steve stopped the kisses (much to your disappointment) to once again rest his chin on your stomach. it was slightly discomforting but you didn’t push him away.

“yeah. i know you don’t want many if we were to have our own. so i want an older girl so she can help keep her younger brother in line.”

you let your index finger run down the slope of steve’s nose bridge, “how long have you been thinking about this?”

the quick dart of steve’s eyes piqued your interest. he only did that when he was embarrassed by the information he was about to lay out. you didn't push him, just observed him as you waited.

you felt steve’s voice but didn’t hear it. he spoke his words into your skin and it took you a moment before you realized he said anything. you asked him to repeat it politely.

he cleared his throat. “since our third date.”

“why our third date? if this was a romance anything, you would’ve said our first date.” you weren’t criticizing, just curious. you just remember it as a fun roller rink date.

your simple question sparked a twinkle in steve’s pupils. “i know what you're thinking.” “what am i thinking?”

“that it was just a roller rink date. why is that so special to start thinking about kids? right?” a shrug was your answer. steve continued his version of the story.

“okay. well, i was getting us food and you stayed in our booth. after i placed our order i leaned against the wall so i could continue to watch you-“ “stalker.”

steve tickled at your sides, breaking you into fits of laughs and tears before you conceded. “anyway. i was staring at you, my mind just constantly saying, “you got your girl”. and then you stood up and walked to a claw game. i was gonna rush over so i could impress you, but stopped when i saw you crouch down and start talking to a little boy. then you started to play the game and after many, many, many-“ you shoved his shoulder and the both of you chuckled, “many tries. you got the boy a stuffed animal. and in his excitement, he hugged you. and just seeing the way you froze before holding him tightly with your eyes closed…”

steve trailed off and you could feel the tears wishing to fall. hands grabbing for steve’s cheeks and giving a slight tug to signal him to climb up your body. his hands sat by the sides of your chest as you planted kiss after kiss over his face. a kiss to the side of his lip and you move his head back.

“here’s a potential plan. we wait another year or two, getting more marriage on the plate and getting used to our grown-up jobs. and then from there, we could start having a bit more carefree sex and just… see what happens. what d’you think?”

steve’s eyes went side to side then to your lips and back to your eyes. “i say…” he leaned closer, lips ghosting each other as he whispered, “that’s a good plan, honey.” and he kissed you until you couldn’t remember your name, only steve’s.

#stever harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington reader insert #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x fem!reader #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagine #joe keery

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moonstruckme · 19 days

Note

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

steve harrington + friends to lovers maybe? definitely feeling lovesick steve rn 😮‍💨

Thanks for requesting lovely mal <3

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 698 words

The movie theater is dark, and yet Steve catches sight of you the second you step inside. His heart does a dumbass little somersault.

“Y/n’s here?” he whispers to Robin, who’s sitting next to him and using her licorice as a straw. On his other side, Eddie’s kicked his feet up on the seat in front of him like a total asshole.

“Oh, yeah.” Robin waves to you, and you spot them, heading over. “I invited her.”

“You didn’t say she was coming.”

Robin gives Steve a sideways glance. It’s tinged with a meaning he refuses to decode. “I didn’t realize I needed to check with you.”

He huffs. You’re climbing the steps, still three rows from reaching them. “Move over by Eddie.”

Robin turns towards him now, eyebrows raising. “You’re not serious.”

“Go!”

“Dingus.” She musses his hair spitefully as she stands, just so he’ll have to fix it, waving over her shoulder at you as you start shimmying down their row.

You wave back, smiling bemusedly as you take her seat beside Steve. “Hey,” you say.

“Hey.” He’s grinning like an idiot, and he can’t seem to stop. He wasn’t expecting to see you today. “Long time, no see.”

You go a bit sheepish, the previews casting a red hue over your features. “Yeah, sorry. Work’s been keeping me busy lately. Three people quit at once, so everyone’s expected to cover until they can hire new ones.”

Steve grimaces. “Yikes.” He has the urge to tell you to quit and let him pay for everything, as if that’s something he can fiscally manage or even remotely normal. “That sucks,” he says instead.

“Yeah, hopefully it’s not for long.” You get comfy, slipping off your shoes and putting your socked feet up on the seat. Your knees lean onto your shared armrest, within a pinkie’s reach of Steve’s hand. “I actually just got off, I didn’t grab anything from concessions because I was worried I’d miss the beginning.”

“Oh, no way.” The movie starts, and he lowers his voice but neither of you turn towards the screen. “Want me to run and grab you something?”

You give him a funny smile. It makes your cupid’s bow flatten out and Steve thinks that if he were to kiss you, he’d start there. “No,” you whisper, “you shouldn’t have to miss anything either.”

“It’s okay,” he promises you. “I don’t even really care if I see this.” He has been looking forward to it ever since he saw the commercial, honestly, but he’s happy to miss it for you.

“I’m fine,” you reply, “but thanks, Steve.”

“At least have some of mine.” Eddie shushes him loudly, and Steve kicks the underside of his knee, making the other boy curse. “I’ve got coke and popcorn, that okay?”

The movie glows blue over your face as you grin, eyes twinkling in the low light. “Classics. But I’m not gonna take your food.”

“I’m not gonna eat it all,” Steve argues. “These are both extra-larges. You think I bought that all for myself?” He absolutely did.

You lean in closer, your knees touching the side of his hand. “You paid for them,” you whisper.

“So?”

“So, I’d feel bad.”

“Then make it up to me.” Steve hopes he doesn’t look as nervous as he feels. He’s never been able to lay on the charm with you like he can with other girls, he doesn’t know why. Or maybe he does. “Come with us back to my place tonight. We’re ordering pizza.”

“So,” you murmur through a smile, “make it up to you by taking more of your food, is what you’re saying.”

“Uh-huh, exactly.” He takes a sip of his coke and then angles the straw in your direction. “Deal?”

You drop your eyes for a second, shaking your head like he’s silly, and Steve knows he’s won even before you meet his gaze again.

“Deal.” You wrap your lips around his straw, sucking in a mouthful before letting go. “You drive a hard bargain, Harrington.”

Steve grins, laying bay in his seat and totally not thinking about how his pinkie is grazing your thigh. “Yeah, that’s what they tell me.”

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nouearth · 9 months

Text

rated i for impatient.

steve harrington x male reader.

summary: in the middle of a slow afternoon at family video, steve has an idea on how to past time, and it involves you and your mouth.

wc: 3.4k. warnings: explicit smut, handjob (r!giving), blowjob (r!giving), mouth-fucking, deep-throating, lots of spit, gagging, bantering, workplace quickie, co-workers, established relationship, rough!steve, but also gentle!steve, bigdick!steve.

a/n: and it's been a hot minute since i've written smut, as well as a full one-shot!! i swear, i feel like my small hiatus made me forget everything, lol. but i hope it's as good as my other stories and i also hope you guys enjoy steve's first appearance on my blog!

“Dude, you seriously couldn’t wait?”

Heavy footsteps followed Steve as he dragged your trudge into the storage closet. Even though his back faced you, he responded with a shimmy of his shoulders, the flight of muscles equally excited to cease the sluggish afternoon.

“Oh, come on!” He shut the door once you entered with a distressed groan. Though, he knew you didn’t mean it despite your pointed tone.

“I know you want to.” Steve sang with a tease, cornering you against the door with a playful dance, and a smile that had charmed you since the first time you had met him.

You’d been keeping track at how many times Steve had simply captivated you with his presence. It was embarrassing because you’d lost count since day one. The only statistic that you did know was that you were losing.

Losing bad.

Always a goody two-shoes and extra responsible, yet somehow, you were never a prude and knew how to have fun. If only you weren’t so hesitant in this moment. It was your first week, your fourth day at Family Video, and you wanted to make a great impression, even if it was only something to fill up your time during the summer.

He continued to dance, singing a tune that had been stuck in his head since three mornings ago, and your lips curled into smile while he performed within the narrow space. A few stumbles threw him off balance, but upon seeing your lips bitten to hold back a laugh, the following trip had been intentional.

Steve collided into you, though barely as he caught his weight against the door. A whisper of gasp dried your throat when the sudden thump by your shoulders jolted you and his face rushed close to yours like a bullet. Your gaze widened in surprise, only for them to roll once it catalogued the mischief on his face. “You know Keith kind of hates you, right? You’re going to be fucked if he catches you slacking again.”

“Me?! I’m sorry, are you a ghost or something? A figment of my imagination? Worse… I’ve huffed paint too many times when I was little, and now it’s all catching up to me.” There was amusement on his face and it reflected off of your smile.

You straightened your posture to match his eye level, and rebutted his theory with the light touch of your nose to his. He laughed, wrapping his arms around your torso. “You’d get in trouble too, you know. Last time I checked, most sexual acts involve at least two participants.”

“Yeah, well, he likes me unlike you! If anything, he’d probably blame you for being a bad influence or something.” The possible truth expelled a groan out of Steve, but it doesn’t stop him from pouring the remainder of his frustration into your mouth.

You took him in stride, earlier hesitance burying into the back of your mind when the fresh mint of his breath began haunting your mouth. Then, completely into obscurity when his tongue slid over yours, sloppily in hopes of awakening a fruitful lust, akin to his, within you.

“Steve… come on,” You pulled away, but Steve immediately captured your lips again in a tongue-swelling kiss. “What if customers come in?” You panted in between breaths, squeezing at his firm back to distract yourself from the growing tent within your khakis.

“I’ve been here longer than you, studied the activity down to the seconds.” He pressed into you, hip to hip, until you could feel his own muscle growing against yours. “We have at least ten minutes.”

“Ten?! Dude, that’s not enough—“

“Please?” Steve suddenly pulled your hand from his back and into the firmness of his bulge, looking into you with a desperation that rivaled the yearning freedom of his erection. “Please…” The curl of your hand was imposed by his grip, folding them until you had a handful of his bulge, throbbing at the mere friction of your warm palm.

“Fuck,” The determination in Steve’s gaze, as well as the devilish guidance of your own cock stirring against you, had your hand leave the aching muscle for a brief moment to hastily unbuckle his belt. You pressed your lips back to his, and muttered with a grimace. “You’re owing me one after work.”

“God, I love you.” He sighed with relief upon knowing that the heavy pressure in his pants would soon be released, thanking you by taking your cheeks into the dip of his palms and kissing you warm and wet. Even if it was going to be a quick one, his main priority was to be liberated of the painful throbs that had led him to this desperate juncture.

As much as Steve hated confined spaces, the feeling of the storage space closing in on him had only been fleeting because his desire for you was gravity-defying strong. It expanded the proximity at his very will until you were the only subject framed in his field of vision.

Lips plumped from the bites he took from your flesh earlier, balmy skin speckled with a flush that he’d been the sole creator of, he couldn’t get enough of your presence. He took in your woody scent with deep inhales as he moved his lips to your neck, and your hands began digging into the waistband of his pants, pulling Steve close with a hard yank to harbor every warm breath into one another again.

With one swift pull, the belt collided with the floor and your hands worked at the zipper like a tailor until the khakis dropped and pooled around his ankles. You accompanied the leather and fabric seconds after, kneeling onto the cold surface with the eager guidance of Steve’s caresses to the back of your head.

Kneeling face-to-face with his bulge, you couldn’t stop yourself from drooling even if Steve was covered. You could outline the girth of his cock, plumping and thickening under your piquant gaze, and then throbbing when you followed the curve with your palm in eager cycles until the waistband screamed for your attention.

Your fingers hooked into the elastic band and in one slow pull, you revealed Steve’s erection in all its glory. Thick and unkempt hairs billowed first, and you played with the anticipation as you dragged the waistband over his length, weighting it downwards until all that was left covered was the plump tip that you can still taste from a few nights ago. In a final yank, Steve’s cock sprang up proudly and his groans were heavenly in its accompaniment. The weight of his large cock made him bounce in several reps before it was kept still by the warmth of your hand, then another over the remaining curve to amuse yourself with his blessed size.

“Jesus, did you not jerk off this morning? Haven’t seen or felt you this hard before...” Your mouth fell open in awe, and also in preparation to loosen the muscles in your jaw while your hands slid over him in slow strokes. Every vein throbbed at the delicate touch, pulsated strong when you squeezed a few sticky drips of his pre-cum from his spout. They would’ve landed on the undeserving floor had you not stuck your tongue out in time, lapping him up from the underside of his cock to the smooth pink rim.

His cock jumped when your other hand dropped to fondle his balls, hanging low as if they awaited to be grasped and swung. You did exactly that as you licked the slit of his tip, amusing yourself with Steve’s package that you had sucked and fucked before, yet still managed to be surprised despite your many affairs.

“Not since we last fucked, to be honest.” At first, he balled the end of his shirt and raised it high to prevent it from obstructing your view, exposing the happy trail that you always traced over with your tongue on lazy Sundays. “Guess it wasn’t the same.” But the defy work of your hands spread the boil in his stomach to the muscular arch of his back, hot and heavy on his body until the weight of his shirt was thrown off. Moans exhaled in breathy tremors as you squeezed his shaft and pulled him forward and back in wall-closing jerks.

“Well, I’m sorry for the long wait.” Your strokes continued while you sealed a wet promise to the pink glans. “I’ll make it worth it.” You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out to welcome the following sticky slaps of his heavy length in disgusting delight, holding him like a marker as you patterned his thick pre-cum over your pair of lips before the salty flesh was vaulted into your mouth with an inhale.

His length pushed your mouth open in an accommodating stretch, almost pleasurable if he hadn’t been so difficult to take in. The first few inches gagged you, ached a muscle in your stomach when you flexed. It was traditional at this point, and your routine often consisted of stroking the shaft that had yet felt the heat of your mouth. The sliminess of your tongue as you bathed Steve’s cock in stomach-churning sin, lapping the musk of him from the loose scrotum to the plump head.

And it was a routine to attempt to take him again. You spat in your hand before lubing his stiff in a glaze that caught the light of his eyes, then the hiccup of his moan. “Fuck, you know I love it when you do that…”

“Yeah?” You smiled, his compliments sent straight to your erection while the sticky sounds of bubbles and drool soiled his cock in pure lust in lazy strokes, then sealed when you wrapped your lips around him again, and pushed down when the pulse of his veins beckoned you.

The size of his cock drew a moan out of you, tremors rimming the shaft while you prepared the opening of your throat little by little. Drool leaked from either corners of your mouth, staining your flushed skin and then the floor, but you hadn’t been bothered to save them despite your reputation of being a clean-freak.

When it came to Steve, you were in a state of delirium that had forgotten who you were because there was only one purpose on your mind: to pleasure.

“Shit, (M/N)—“ His hands had left you to fold his arms behind his head, allowing his silhouette to become yours to own and to rapture over as you worked him like one your favorite treats at the candy store. He slipped in and out of you, closer to the barrier of your throat with the help of his thrusts, and the only time you’d take a break was when you suckled on his balls. As his cock hung over your face, head dripping in saliva and thick pre-cum, you found enjoyment in rolling his balls like dice: another one of Steve’s favorite moves.

Steve was heavy on your tongue and the only way you could thank him for blessing you with his fruitful cock, was to love-bomb him with all of his favorite desires. You lined the underside with your tongue until your lips met the pink glans again, speckling it with a playful pecks before weighing his shaft down with your spit once again. “Have you always liked it sloppy?”

“Mm—no…” He murmured, and you looked up into the heaviness of his lids, surprised by his confession. “Not until I met you. For others, it’s kind of gross, but… you do it differently. Tastefully, and I’m not trying to be funny.”

You laughed at the unintentional joke and Steve joined your amusement with a smile, petting the back of your head before it was guided back to swallow him whole this time. Your mouth stretched wide the more he pushed you, burying the remnants of your humored-self into the pit of your throat with the ample of his throbbing erection. Your hands held around his thighs to brace for the oncoming gags and Steve does the same around your head, threading his fingers into your hair with a strong grip as he pushed, and pushed, and pushed, until tears brimmed the highlights of your eyes.

“Holy shit—“ Steve was enamored by the feeling of stuffing you whole. The confines of your mouth and throat restricted the blood flow around him, yet he couldn’t have felt himself pulsate more, stiffen harder in between your godly gags and whimpers. The scratches at his thighs was a telling sign for him to pull you back, and so he does in what felt like slow motion. His cock unsheathed out of your throat like a sleeve, unraveling a spell of gasps and bubbling moans in midst.

“You did so good, baby… fuck.” Cupping your cheek, he briefly bent down to meet you in the middle of his gratification, kissing you proud and golden on your breathless smile before he tore himself away to spit inside of your mouth and submerging his saliva down your mouth with his cock again. Despite the sting in your eyes and throat, you were compliant to his every move and welcomed the sheathing of his wet flesh in prideful determination.

Steve’s hands had moved to either sides of your head, where he had complete control of every bone and muscle of your neck, and the desire to fuck your tight mouth had become a victorious reality. Your lips pressed into his unkempt hairs when he forced you down again, tasting the sweat that had been harbored within the strands.

From then on, your gags had only become motivation as he rode the rhythm of your delectable sounds with sharp and eager thrusts. Gasps and coughs stuck to the slick of your throat while Steve’s cock fucked them down in repetitive and selfish strides. Your head moved from the guidance of Steve’s hold, meeting the bow of your head with a forward thrust and ramming into the back of your throat while you spilled sheltered saliva—thick and bubbly in its journey to form a puddle on the floor. He repeated after barely giving you enough time to catch your breath, choking and fucking your mouth with his cock while you writhed on your knees in intimidation.

Steve sheltered you close, curling his body over you as a satisfied moan added to the thick air when he shoved your head deep in between his legs, keeping you still in midst of your squirms. Whenever you tried to pull back, Steve only thrusted and pushed you further into your struggle for freedom. He drowned you in your own saliva, locked you of your only source of oxygen as your nose pressed deep into his pelvis, and gagged you to the point of leaving scars on his thighs as your fingers curled into his flesh, desperate for a whisper of air to breathe back into you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You finally get your wish when he yanked you back, and you inhaled with a slobbering gasp, coughing out the oxygen that he had buried from within you.

Throughout all of this, you gazed beautifully up to him, Steve thought. From the highlights of the whites to the color of your orbs, you glistened like nature past dew point, and his chest swelled in agreement. His heart pulsed faster than the rhythmic sucks and strokes of your mouth and hand as you’ve gone back to sucking him, fisting him into your mouth as your mouth began aching from deep-throating, breath recovering from being face-fucked. It was a curse that you put on him, where he closed his eyes to the merit of your tongue and couldn’t bear to look at you again because if he did, he knew he could come all over your face right then and there.

“Close—fuck.” His shoulders rolled back and one hand pushed the sweat off his forehead back into the fluff of his hair, while the other maintained on your head, keeping you in close proximity.

“Fuck, Steve…” You sniffled, desperately tasting the salt off the tip of his cock while you snapped your wrist back and forth in jerking him off. Your free hand ran over his stomach, then down his flexed thighs, and you squeezed to remind him that he was spellbound under your touch. His gaze casted downwards to meet yours once again, and he nodded as if he understood.

The pressure on the back of your head hardened, but it was your own will that had you slobbering all over him again. You took him his cock back in with desperation, the memory of how salty he had tasted days prior fortifying your delirious state of mind. You sucked Steve off, swallowed him whole, fucked him into your fist, then into your mouth, and it would repeat until he nested his hand into your hair, tightly curling them into a fist as he came undone into your mouth.

“Fuck—“

Steve’s cock pulsed in heavy bounces and his balls bounced in its drain as he emptied himself inside of you. Warm and thick seed accompanied the fill of your mouth, and your hand reached down to massage his sack, aiding the scrotum to dump the remaining few shots into the pool of cum. Slowly, you pulled back with your lips pressed tight in caution of wasting the fresh fluid, and you swallowed slow and proud, savoring every gulp that ran down your violated throat as if it the cure to the sore. He watched you, panting heavily, and his cleansed cock twitched as you quenched upon his energy for the day.

“You don't have to swallow it al—“ Before he could finish his question, you stuck your tongue out to reveal the abyss of your mouth, and the limp of his cock roused with one more throb before finally hanging low in between his legs. Steve was left astonished, and there was a flicker in his eyes before he helped you back on your feet. “Come here, I need to kiss you right now.”

A laugh was caught in between your lips when Steve kissed you with a familiar sweetness that always rattled the butterflies in your stomach. He pulled you close to pacify the flutter of their wings, and sighed into you before a hand gently caressed the middle of your throat. “Did I go too hard?”

“I would’ve said something if you did, Steve.” You’d come to realize that it always took more than a smile and comforting words to appease his guilt, and so you pressed fleeting pecks to the center of his lips, then began massaging the sensitive fill of his cock in slow turns. “I mean, if you want, we can go for round two right now and—“

“Okay, okay.” He pressed a laugh into your lips and leaned his forehead onto yours for the moment you two shared a gaze. Looking into you, it dismantled all of his worries, as it did for you, and it was only when the cold bit at his naked body that roused him from the daze.

“I should probably put my clothes back on.”

“Dude, are you saying that isn’t your uniform?” You gasped.

“Dude,” He took you by the back of your head again and kissed you once, grinning. “Shut up.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like! feedback is also much appreciated!

1K notes · View notes

lis-likes-fics · 1 year

Text

Burning

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Reader Word Count: 7.7k Warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, fingering, slight hair pulling, aftercare, praise kink, daddy kink, dom!Steve, sub!reader, swearing... A/N: You cannot tell me Steve is not pent up 24/7. That man needs a break. Anyway, enjoy this filth. <3

"Just this once? I mean, I always take 'em, anyway." Steve was desperate as he clutched the phone in his hand, his fingers curling tightly around the handle while he tapped his foot. You could hear it in his voice, you were ready to resign with a long sigh as you grabbed your thick black marker and wiped out the huge bold letters reading "FREE DAY" on your calendar.

Nevertheless, this was Steve and you lived to torment him. "Why should I?" you raised a brow. "What's in it for me?"

He shrugged, scowling a little as his brows knitted tightly together. "Er—because we're best friends, and you love me?"

You unsuccessfully fought off the blush on your cheeks and could not fight the palpitations in your chest at his choice of words. Love. Alas, you just sighed dramatically and rolled your eyes, as if he could see you. He could sense your lack of cooperation through your heavy exhale—despite the fact that you've already silently agreed to his plea.

He raised his hand to his face, rubbing at his eyes and pursuing his lips. "I'll pay you."

"Pay me what?"

"Money."

"Great, be there in ten."

The line went dead, and Steve rolled his eyes as he set the phone back on the receiver. He let out a relieved sigh, which was interrupted by a curly-haired boy staring up at him expectantly, arms crossed and brow raised.

"Are we leaving anytime soon?" Dustin asked, tapping his foot and checking his watch as if he was some important celebrity who was late for a big function. Steve rolled his eyes, yet again, and placed his large hand over Dustin's face, lightly shoving the boy to the side as he began walking away.

"Calm your tits, Henderson. Your taxi will be here in ten," he said.

Dustin walked after him, confusion written on his face as they joined the rest of his friends in the living room. "Taxi?" he exclaimed. "I thought you were taking us to the arcade like you promised!"

"Wait, we're not going anymore?" Mike questioned. "But we made a deal. You were going to take us to the arcade if we gave you next weekend off."

Steve huffed, "Look, something came up."

Lucas crossed his arms over his chest, "So you're sticking us with a taxi? What if we get kidnapped?" The others were quick to agree to his ridiculous scenario. If Steve rolled his eyes again, they'd get stuck at the back of his skull.

"Then I'd feel sorry for them," he muttered under his breath. He spoke again quickly before they could show their offense at his insult. "You're still going to the arcade, I'm just not taking you. And you won't be kidnapped, Y/N's takin' you."

They all looked at each other, exchanging glances to decide if they were okay with that. They shrugged and agreed to behave when Steve gave them That Look and a threat for if they acted like "a bunch of little rats" with you. With promises of being well-behaved and quick waves, they watched as your car eventually pulled up to the curb. You honked your horn excessively, annoying the neighbors and riling up the dogs in other houses and yards.

They rushed out of the door with Steve in tow. His hands were on his hips, exuding a level of sass that naturally came with the tight mom jeans. He got to your window and bent down to see you. You were wearing one of his jackets, one that you insisted you "borrowed" even though he hasn't had that jacket back in months. He didn't mind. It looked better on you anyway.

"Thank you for taking them," he said. He silently cursed himself when his eyes drifted down to your thighs. Bare and perfectly displayed by your tiny shorts. His tight pants felt tighter. "Something came up."

Your eyes raked over him. He was slightly flushed, his hair more tousled than usual, like he'd been running his hands through it too many times. The kids must have really gotten on his nerves today. "Yeah, whatever. What were you busy with?" you wondered, leaning over the center console to peer up at him. You noticed his eyes were darker than usual, bigger, blacker pupils staring down at you and chasing the caramel color from his eyes.

He stuttered for a moment, "Uh, work. Paper work. Had to get it done today." You were about to say something else—likely disprove his claim—but he spoke before you could. "Speaking of which, I should get started on that. Thanks again. I'll pay you later."

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at him, "Whatever you say, Stewie. Bye, bye. Put your seatbelts on, rats."

Dustin was getting impatient. "They're on. Now go before someone beats the high score. I've been working on that game for weeks!" You laughed at him and waved to Steve as he backed away from the car. You sent him a peace sign as you pulled out of his driveway.

Steve waited until you were out of sight to turn around and head back into the empty house. It was silent now, save for his footsteps as he made his way to the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. Upon opening the refrigerator, he was met with the consequences of not paying attention to where you store things.

A jar from the shelf came tumbling out, crashing to the floor and shattering. He was lucky to move out of the way before his feet could be caught in the aftermath. "Shit!" he exclaimed, roughly closing the door shut and adding another string of curses as he moved to clean up the mess. First, he couldn't find a clean towel. Then he couldn't find the spray to clean up the incident. Then he knocked off a glass of juice from the counter that one of the boys must have left. Upon trying to save it, he got juice all over his shirt and pants.

His frustration was rising within him. If another thing happened, he was going to be pissed beyond imagination. When he finally cleaned up the chaos of his clumsiness, he moved up the stairs to get to the bathroom for a shower. He was sticky, and there were traces of sauce on his skin that he didn't want to smell all day.

The shower was much needed. Standing underneath the hot water, near scorching, was more relaxing than he originally thought. His pent up muscles relaxed a little more, releasing tension he was unaware he was holding. The burning of his skin was enough to distract him from the burning desire he had been holding back for way too long now.

When he got out of the shower and was met with the cooler temps of the house, the tension was not as released as it had been before. His muscles were taut again and his skin was blazing with need. He stepped into his room with his towel wrapped around his waist, sitting on his bed to dry himself off.

He moved to his windows to close the blinds, casting his room into a slight shadow. As he wiped the water off the rest of his body, quickly drying off his hair, he let out a long breath.

Steve knelt in front of his bed, lifting the top mattress and reaching for the magazines stuffed underneath. It was a small selection, but it was the best he could get. He threw himself onto his bed, holding the well-loved copies of Playboy magazines in his hands before selecting his favorite. He let the others fall to the ground beside the bed. Finally, he was alone and without another task to keep him from relieving himself.

When Dustin and his friends showed up at his front door, it was like a punch to the face. He thought he'd had all day to himself, completely forgetting his deal to take them to the arcade to watch them win the high scores they were so insistent on keeping. He'd hardly been able to keep himself together the day before. He had no choice but to call you, lest he combust spontaneously and disappear off the face of the planet. It didn't help when you showed up in front of his house wearing his jacket and those tiny fucking shorts. He was so sure he was a goner as soon as he saw them.

You didn't help him much yesterday either. You'd dragged him to go grocery shopping with you. You were wearing one of his shirts and a pair of ripped jeans that honestly should have been in the trash. The holes were massive, one leg exposed a giant patch of skin at the top of your thigh. He spent so much energy during the car ride back to your place trying not to just reach over and grasp your thigh. It was practically calling him.

To make matters worse—although, he didn't know they could get worse—you took off the shirt as soon as you got home, in front of him, and were left in a spaghetti strapped tank top that left nothing to the imagination. He was dying all night as you laid your head on his thigh during an abnormally long movie—or, at least, it felt really long. It might not have been as long as he thought.

He flipped open the magazine to his favorite page. There was a woman on that page that had enough similarities with you to drive him insane. He fought the shame that was rising within him as he thought about the fact that he had these magazines in the first place. It was worse to know that he was staring at a page he liked so much because the lady looked like you. He was jacking off to the thought of his best friend, and it was a secret he intended to take to his grave.

He took his heavy cock in his hand and felt a groan rising in his throat. His head fell back against his pillows, his leg twitched. He cursed under his breath, reaching for the lotion in his drawer beside the bed. He pumped some into his hand and set off the work, wrapping his fingers around himself with a slight squeeze as he worked his fist over his throbbing length.

Shit, that was better. His heart was pounding in his chest as he stared at the page, at the woman who held enough resemblance to you that his cock twitched in his fist and his cheeks burned to match his burning lust for you. He meant to take his time to enjoy the free time he had, but it was hard when he was so pent up.

So pent up, it seems, that he couldn't hear the front door opening over the sound of his gasps and groans.

You opened Steve's door with little mind, pocketing your Walkman as the climax of Frank Sinatra's My Way played through your headphones. You dug in Steve's fridge, grabbing water from one of the shelves and ignoring the sauce smudged on the inside shelves. You turned on your heel, making a beeline for Steve's room as you kicked off your shoes in the hall.

You took the kids to the arcade and dropped them off. They'd begged you to stay and watch them win a ton of games, but you insisted that you had to go because you had errands to run. In truth, you were going to go back to your place and unwind. It had been a long week, and you were ready for a breather.

But then Steve called, and you could never say no to him. You were coming to collect your dues, and to see his pretty face (and maybe take another shirt), before you went home and locked all your doors, ready to deny any company at the drop of a hat. As you walked down the hall toward his room, your headphones prevented your only warning.

You opened his door, moving the headphones from your ears as you began speaking, "Pay up, Stew–"

You froze. He froze. He shouldn't have frozen. He was lying on his bed with his fist still wrapped tightly around his cock. He was hard, and he was thick, and you looked. Then you didn't look away. You couldn't. You just walked into your best friend's room to find him jacking off. Granted, it's not the first time you've caught him, but it is the first time you've caught him in such a compromising position. It's the first time you've actually seen him.

It was a lot to take in.

The sense smacked you in the face after far too long a delay and you turned around and ducked your head, covering your face with a loud, "Jesus fucking Christ, Steven!"

That got him moving. He quickly threw the magazine as far away from him as he could, snatching his pillow and covering himself. He leaned forward, running his hand through his hair too many times before gripping his hair and pulling his head forward to shield himself from you.

There was a long silence between the two of you as your faces burned hot with embarrassment. If the both of you weren't already horny little fuckers, you definitely were now. And that made all of this so much worse.

"Is it safe?" you asked, your voice small and breaking. You cursed yourself, both for your weak voice and the burn between your thighs.

"Ye–" he cleared his throat, "Yeah. Yeah, you can turn around." You did, very slowly on shaky thighs.

You peaked through your fingers before gathering yourself and straightening your spine. You let out a sigh and looked anywhere but him, clasping your hands in front of you and rocking on your heels. When the silence grew too thick, you attempted a joke. "Need some help?" You should not have attempted a joke.

Steve sunk deeper into his shame, face still covered with his hands. You sunk into your own embarrassment and shook your head after scowling at yourself. "Yeah, I'm gonna go." You had to leave. If you stayed any longer, you would be in deep shit. You were too horny and embarrassed to be around Steve any longer.

But he had other plans, it seems. "Wait!" he called you back. You lingered by the door and made yourself look at him, just as he made himself look at you. "Wait, come back."

You took a step inside of the room but did not move any further. "Yeah?"

He let out a long sigh and made to get closer before quickly rethinking that decision. "I'm sorry," he said. "This is weird, that was weird. I mean, you could have knocked but you've never knocked before so–"

"My fault," you said. "Yeah, my bad."

There was another long silence as you tried to recover. You were slowly remembering your position as his best friend—able to tease him about whatever, whenever you want—and smile a little. "Is that why you called me to take those idiots?" you spoke slowly, trying to sound unphased (even if it was clear that you were entirely phased). "Whore." You added the last word as an afterthought. It wasn't as smooth as you'd hoped.

But he did laugh a little, turning away with a slight nod and scarlet cheeks. "Maybe...yeah. Been a long week."

Well, damn.

You spoke before you could stop yourself.

"Me, too."

Fuck.

"What?" he wondered, looking up at you with wide eyes.

"Oh, I mean—uh. You know, long week for me, too. I—don't worry about it." He would absolutely worry about it—tease you about it. He suddenly forgot that he was the one caught redhanded, the one still currently naked with no armor other than a fucking pillow over his crotch.

"What, were you all horny, too?" he quipped, raising a brow with a teasing smirk. "Slut?" It was a mockery of your own attempt before, and it made you laugh. So he was challenging your own teasing? Two could play that game, but only one could win.

"Maybe," you spoke. You spoke quicker than your mind could stop you. "Was my original plan for the day. Then you called, and I canceled for you so you could jack off, horny freak."

"I–"

You both stopped, and it was awkward again. Silence. Then he spoke. "You canceled to do me a favor?"

You licked your lips, shrugging as you played with your fingers. "When have I ever said no to you, Stew–" you cleared your throat, "Steve?"

He chuckled lightly, and the tension eased again. You tested the waters, "I mean, you were practically begging me." And again, Steve's cheeks blushed the darkest red you'd ever seen. He glanced away from you and swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair.

Your eyes widened, "I meant over the phone– you were thinking about me?"

He hid his face in his hands again, only for a moment. You wanted to tease him again, but a thought flashed behind your eyes that immediately silenced you. Him stroking himself while he thought about you, saying your name. The huge part of you that loved Steve so much it made you crazy was screaming right now, and you had to reign yourself in before you showed it too much.

You shuffled on your feet, looking down at the ground as you thought to yourself. You spoke again, your voice tiny as you managed to get the words out. "You were thinking about me?"

Steve looked at you, the change in demeanor catching his attention as he watched you avoid his gaze. A swell of courage and the heat of his love for you compelled him to speak, his voice just as small. "Yeah..."

His confession was enough to allow you to step into his room some more, just a few tiny steps. You cleared your throat a little, willing yourself to meet his gaze. His face was flushed and his eyes were dark. His hair was tousled, and his lips looked like they needed a kiss.

"What were you thinking about?"

Somehow, it didn't feel nearly as awkward as it had before. Steve didn't blush deeper or hide away again. His eyes remained glued to you, and his fists gripped the sheets out of view. "Just...you. Touching me, kissing me."

You moved closer again, rubbing your arm and holding your elbow in your palm as your heart pounded loudly in your chest. "Fucking you?" Steve swallowed and nodded. God, you were on fire. Was it just you? Was it not sweltering hot in the room? "Do you think about it a lot?"

"Do you?"

You licked your lips. "Yeah," you mumbled. "Every night." He was going to scream. "Last night." He was going to explode. "Right now." He was going to burn up and die.

"Right now?" he asked, licking his lips. You nodded, shifting again as you took another small step forward. He swallowed. "Describe it for me." It wasn't really a question, as it was a request. Before you knew it, you were standing at the side of his bed, all embarrassment gone and replaced with images of Steve's lips on you (at least).

You sat down onto the tiny space his bed allowed, tentatively raising your hand to his arm to feel his blazing skin. You grabbed the inside of his forearm, stroking your thumb over the skin slowly. "Can I..." you trailed off, taking in a breath. "Can I show you?"

He almost choked. Was this happening? Were you actually asking to show him your dirty fantasies? Or was this all in his head? If this was all in his head, the shame of it all would slap him in the face pretty soon.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said, placing a hand on your waist. You stared at his pretty face some more, addicted to being this close to him. You raised a hand to press against his bare chest, which was really hairy (as if you didn't already know that). You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, a soft one at first as he raised his hand to cup your cheek. You melted against him, allowing the pleasure of his kiss to lull you. It was even better than you imagined, better than anything you could have ever imagined.

His lips locked against your own, and he held you close. You sighed against his mouth, leaning into him with bated breath. You steadied yourself onto the bed, throwing your leg over his lap as you deepened the burning kiss. Your hands moved to tangle in his hair, one of them pulling on his brunet locks lightly as he opened up to let you in. You trailed your hand down his chest, tickling his skin with your fingertips as it traveled through his chest chair and down to his abdomen.

The pillow stopped you, and you moved to take it out of the way. He grabbed your hand, pulling away from your kiss to focus his eyes on your lips and your gaze. His breath was short, unsteady as he stared at you. You were both so close to each other now. You could feel his hot breath on your face, fanning over your skin teasingly.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice quiet but not as small as it was before. You licked your lips and nodded, breathing "yes" before pushing forward to kiss him again. He let go of your hand in favor of holding your waist. He pulled your body flush against his, sitting back so you could lay against him as he kissed you.

You successfully moved the pillow out of the way, still kissing him feverishly as your hand lingered against his lower belly. When your fingers brushed against him, he hissed, pulling back from your lips again. You buried your face in his neck, slotting your lips against his skin there to pepper him in kisses. You grabbed his cock slowly in your hand, stroking your thumb over his slit where slick precum had already been leaking out.

Steve huffed against your touch. You sucked on a patch of skin under his ear, and his huff turned into a broken moan. His cock was thick, throbbing in your hand as you wrapped your fingers around him. His pants never did him justice. He moaned your name into your ear, and your clit throbbed at the sound of it. You stroked your hand along his cock as you finished biting and sucking your mark into his neck. His big hands held onto your waist and kept you close through it all, his own mouth dragging along your neck and tasting your skin.

You pulled away after a moment, staring at him with dark eyes as he reflected the lust in your gaze. You moved back onto your knees, never tearing your gaze away from him as you continued stroking him. Then you let go of him to pull your shirt over your head, exposing your bare chest to him. Steve nearly pounced, eager to have his hands all over you.

He drunkenly stared at you before he leaned forward. You placed your hand on his chest to keep him laying back. You leaned forward against him instead, pressing your lips to his collarbone. He reached for your thighs, finally pressing his palms against the skin there just to feel you. He could feel the quiver in your thighs as you trailed your kisses down his body. When you were laying before him, propped up on your elbows as you looked up at him, Steve lost his breath. You were gorgeous.

You stroked him again, your eyes gluing to his thick cock as you practically salivated. His tip was flushed red, it almost looked painful. He was huge, a lot bigger than you would have guessed. You took his length in your hand and stroked him a couple times more before leaning forward and dragging your tongue along the underside of him. Steve's head fell back as his eyes screwed shut, breath caught in his throat.

When you reached his tip, you tasted the precum gathered there and moaned. You swirled your tongue around him, suckling gently as you went along. Steve was losing his mind, staring at you with a dark gaze as you sucked him off.

He must be dreaming. There's no way you were actually doing this to him, here in his room with your lips wrapped around his cock. This had to be some glorious, sick dream that proves Steve needs help.

But it wasn't. Not even his own imagination could make him feel as good as you were right now. You flattened your tongue against him, going farther down his length with each little suckle around his tip. White, sticky precum continued to seep from his slit onto your tongue. You were already drunk on the taste of him, sucking on him as you took him as best you could. But he was thick, and there was a lot of him.

You took him down your throat soon enough, eyes watering and legs trembling. As soon as you did, Steve's hands moved to your hair, tangling there to ground himself as your tight throat squeezed around him. You couldn't take him all, there was too much of him. He didn't seem to mind. Steve was on Cloud Nine watching you take him.

He was going to burst soon. Between his own work before your interruption and your talented tongue working him now, he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. You felt him twitching in your throat and pulled off of him just enough to lick along his shaft again. He was close, you could feel it.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned. You let out a long breath, breaking off into a moan as the words fell from his tongue. You played it over and over again in your head as he relished in the pleasure you granted him. "That's so good," he breathed. "Keep going."

And you did. Spurred on by his praise, you sucked him off until he was fighting the urge to fuck your face. He cursed breathlessly, hands tightening in your hair as you worked him into your mouth.

"Sshit," was the only warning he could manage when he finally tipped over the edge. He yanked on your hair to pull your head back as he came. You held your mouth open, closing your eyes as he released. His cum stained your face, decorating your lips, your tongue, and your pretty cheeks. Steve's body tensed and he groaned roughly as thick ropes of cum erupted from his cock and all over your face and some along your throat and chest. When he looked at you, he swore he could've come again as he was met with the sight of you.

He watched you lick your lips to gather as much of it as you can. He'd really made a mess of you, watching you wipe cum from yourself to taste with long moans. He pulled you up in no time, indulging in your lips as he kissed you hungrily. He could taste his cum on your tongue, could feel some of the hot release against his own face as you climbed into his lap.

He held you closely by your waist, relishing in the feel of you. His hands gripped your ass through your tiny shorts as he chased your lips. You giggle against his mouth, loving the way he breathed his desire into you. He wrapped one arm around your back to hold you close, using the other to support you both as he moved you into your back. He towered over you, pressing kisses all over your face and collecting the cum still stained there. He kissed it all up, stopping to admire your throat and chest for a moment as he stared.

He shook his head, dark eyes boring into your breasts as he ran his hands over your nipples—sensitive and all but peaked. "I wanna fuck your tits so bad," he confessed, groping you suddenly.

You gasped at both his hand around you and his confession. You didn't have time to say anything about it, though, because he continued his adventure down your body with hungry kisses. When he reached your shorts, he pulled them off with little care to take his time. He needed you now.

Steve didn't know if he should be shocked to find you without panties or to make a mental note to punish you later for it (he's hoping to God he has the chance to). He just looked up at you and tsked, shaking his head at you and making you laugh again.

Then he dove in. Your back arched and you gasped immediately, blinded by the pleasure of his lips on you as he licked and sucked on your pussy. His tongue glided through your folds hungrily. He licked up your juices and sucked on your clit like you were his last meal on death row. His tongue plunged inside of you, addicted to your taste as he moaned and hummed against you.

You were going to lose your mind. Your head was spinning and your body was on fire. It was mind-numbing to have his mouth devouring you like this after pining over him for so long, on top of being so pent up these past few days. You needed this more than you realized, and Steve was the perfect person to fill that hole with—to fill your hole with.

Your lips parted for air and moans as your fingers twisted in his hair, gripping and tugging hopelessly. "Mm, Steve!" you gasped. "Fuck, yes!"

He separated from you for a moment to look at you, replacing his tongue with two thick fingers as he stuffed you with them, curling and pumping and spreading them inside you. His lips were kiss-swollen and wet from spit and arousal as he stared at you with dark, primal eyes. A particular curl of his fingers at you lifting off the bed as you whined at him.

"S'that feel good?" he asked, pressing his fingers as deep as they'll go as he fucked you with them. "You like the way I take care of you? You like the way Daddy takes care of you?"

That made you clenched around him, moaning a little louder at the feelings coursing through your veins. It was like fire in your blood. "Yeah?" he questioned. "You want me to make you come?" You nodded. He smiled at you but shook his head. "No, doll, you gotta use your words."

You whimpered, "Yes! Mmph—yes, Daddy. I want you to make me come."

He smiled at you, this dark look that you had never seen on your Steve. "Good girl," he praised, pulling another moan from your squirming body. He buried his face between your legs again, not caring for even a moment when you closed your legs around his head, your thighs squeezing him to pull him closer.

His tongue flicks at your clit and drives you insane, worse when he sucks in it. It was not before you were begging him to let you come, and he didn't deny you. "Come on, baby. Let go for me. Let me taste you."

And you did, you came with a shout. Your body writhed and spasmed around his tongue when you did. His hot tongue lapped against you, dipping inside of you to collect everything you gave to him. He pulled away from you with a loud smack, sitting back on his legs to take a look at you. You looked so pretty, lying on your back with trembling thighs, your tits on full display for him as he dared to reach out and grope them again.

Staring at you, the overwhelming urge to bury himself inside of you and take you as his was too much to say no to. His hands stroked along your thighs, pulling you close for the sake of being close as he bent over your body to kiss you senseless again.

Your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close as his lips slotted perfectly against yours. When he pulled away long enough to ask, his hand came to rest on your collarbone as he spoke. "Can I fuck you, sweetheart?"

His voice was a beautiful mix between desperation and adoration. You wanted to kiss him senseless again, wanted to attack his face with kisses and make him cum again to show him just how much you fucking loved him.

Instead, you just nodded all too quickly as you pulled him into a quick kiss. "Please," you mewled. "Yes, please fuck me."

He beamed at you, showering you in more kisses before he straightened his spine again. He took his cock in his hand, stroking a couple of times with a small hiss before he lined himself with your hole. He gave you another long look, a second confirmation that you quickly nodded to, before he finally—fucking finally—pressed himself into you.

Your eyes screwed shut and you threw your head back, back arching up into the air to expose your tits to him. Steve sighed as the tip of him was enveloped in the warmth of your wet pussy. He pressed himself a little deeper inside, slowly filling you up until you were sure you couldn't take anymore, and then you did. His pace moving inside of you was agony as he stretched you like a rubber band around a fucking watermelon.

When he was buried enough inside of you, he paused and stayed there to allow you time to adjust. You took it graciously, nothing heavy breaths and shallow whines escaping from you as you stretched around him. He let out a heavy breath, looking down at you with a focused stare. "You're so fucking tight, babe," he told you, straining to control himself as you clenched around him.

Your lips twitched to say something, but you were left without words as he slowly moved to pull out of you. He stopped at the tip before pushing back inside, not quite fully seated inside of you as he slowly built enough a steady pace. It was slow and gentle and you were going to scream.

You wanted him to take you like you knew he was itching to. You needed him to fuck you just like he wanted kiss you: senseless.

"Please, Daddy," you whispered, just barely getting the words out enough to speak clearly. "More. I need more."

He shook his head regrettably, leaning forward again to press his lips to your forehead. "Can't take me like that," he said. "It's too much for you."

He didn't mean it in a cocky way, there was real concern in his eyes as he continued to slowly rock into your swollen pussy. He was trying to be steady for you, to make sure you enjoyed him as much as he was enjoying you without hurting you. He'd been with plenty of girls before, and he learned that bigger wasn't always better.

His body was heavy on top of you, granting you the pressure you needed to stay grounded as you wrapped your legs around him. "I can take it," you promised. "I can do it."

He shook his head still but smiled at your effort. He brushed some hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear and kissing the bridge of your nose gently. "Don't wanna hurt you."

You took his face in your hands, surprising him as you pressed your foreheads together. Your thumbs stroked over his cheeks. "Destroy me, Stewie."

The use of your stupid nickname for him and the seriousness in your tone mixed together to convince Steve. It worked. He smiled at you and kissed your lips, long and soft, like an apology before the crime. He straightened his spine and gripped your waist tightly. He sighed, "You asked for it."

He pressed himself all the way inside you then, the last couple of inches sinking inside of you and completely stretching you, filling you to the brim. You were speechless, breathless, as you relished in the burn. You buried your face in the sheets next to your head, gripping them tightly as you clawed your fingers. When Steve pulled out to the tip again, he pressed one hand to your lower belly before he thrust into you.

You screamed, breath caught in your throat and stuck there after the sudden yelp tore from your throat. Your body, once again, was lit aflame. His thrusts were no longer slow as he fulfilled your request. He stretched you, fucked inside of you as he wasted no more time in letting you adjust. He buried his cock inside of your tight pussy, clenching his jaw and watching you with dark eyes as you struggled to keep up.

Your clit throbbed, your walls screamed, and you moaned like a bitch in heat. The pleasure filled you up like nothing you'd felt before. You could never do this to yourself, and you'd never found a partner who could do it to you. Steve was the first, and you hoped you never had to compare with a future partner. You wanted Steve. You wanted no one but Steve.

He pressed his palm to your belly still, feeling his cock thrusting in and out of you, stretching you out. "Fuck, baby," he breathed, half-growling. "You're taking Daddy so well. You make me feel so good, sweetheart." His words mixed in with your pleasure and you knew you were going to explode. He cursed a string of words that filled your ears and turned it to putty. "Shit, I love this pussy so fucking much. S'perfect for me. Fucking made for me."

Your rough moans filled his ears like music, climbing in volume and pitch like a ring of bells. "Yes!" you all but screamed, barely coherent. "Yes, Daddy, feels so good. Was made for you, only you."

His cock dragged in and out of you in the most delicious way, gathering a euphoria you could never replicate without him. He was so thick, so big, he was perfect. He grunted into your ear as he leaned forward again, his face inches from your own as his nose brushed against you. He practically growled into your ear, voice rough with pleasure as he spoke. "Gonna fucking ruin you for anybody else. You're fucking mine now. No one else can have you."

There were tears gathering in the corner of your eyes as you raised your hands to his tousled hair, gripping his locks again as you tugged on them once more. The possessiveness was going to make you burn up, you loved it. You spoke through the haze of senseless ecstasy, shaking your head. "Don't want anyone else. Want you, only you."

You wouldn't last, not with the way he fucked you, the way he looked at you, the way he held you like you would disappear otherwise. It was too much and not enough. Fuck, you couldn't think. Your mind was blank with nothing else but Steve, Steve, Steve.

A high-pitched whimper erupted from your throat as you arched into him again. "Gonna cum. Needa cum. Daddy, please, let me cum!"

How could he ever say no to you? Not when you looked so pretty, when you asked so nicely. He held you closer, allowing him a new angle to ram deeper within you. You responded with another broken moan. He moved one hand between you, his thumb begging to rub harsh circles over your clit as your body burned for him. "You can cum, sweetheart," he breathed. "Fuck, cum on Daddy's cock, baby. It'll make me feel so good. Cum for me."

The coil inside you snapped, and you came hard. The sound that left you could not be described as anything but a screaming cry, a broken sound accompanying your constricting pussy as your release blinded you with a vicious white flash. Steve didn't stop fucking you through your orgasm, he didn't stop rubbing on your poor clit as he took you for himself.

There was no moment's rest, not a single one as his cock speared into you, ripped you apart from the inside out with a blinding euphoria. He certainly was set on thoroughly ruining you for anyone else. There was no way you could ever begin to move on after this. You would be stuck on Steve until you died and then long after that, as well.

You squirmed against his thumb on your clit until the ruthless aching turned into desperate pleasure again. Your slick release allowed him more pace as he slipped in and out of you almost cruelly. Fuck, you would cum again in no time of he told you to. This man held a power over you that you could never deny.

You held onto him like he would slip away at a moment's notice as he continued to fuck into you. You clenched and moaned as your pleasure tears streamed down your cheeks.

He was going to cum soon, you could feel it. He rutted so desperately into you, his thrusts becoming sloppy and short as he just pressed himself as far as he would go and abused that perfect spot deep inside of you. "Fuck," he gasped. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Daddy's gonna cum. Can I cum inside of you, baby?"

You nodded all too quickly. "Yes," you breathed. "Please, yes."

He was twitching inside you, ready to burst as you constricted around him. "Cum with me, okay? Want you to cum with me, sweetheart," he said.

You tightened the grasp of your legs around him to push him deeper, digging your heels into his lower back without a single care from either of you. He couldn't stop himself as his eyes closed tightly and his mouth started moving. "Jesus, Daddy loves you, sweetheart. Shit, he loves you so mu– Ah!"

He didn't get to finish the word, interrupted by a shout as he finally came. His hips stuttered and your bodies pressed closely together as he came as deeply inside of you as he could. You followed right after, allowing the mind-numbing, heart-stopping pleasure to overtake you. You were so tiny underneath him as he huffed and moaned on top of you.

You were fairly certain you blacked out for a second, coming to when Steve's insistent kisses peppered all over your face again. You both had to catch your breaths, too wrapped up in the other to worry about anything but getting your breathing even before you passed out. You stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the feeling of his thick cock filling you up, stopping your mix of cum from leaking out of you like it meant to do.

When Steve pulled out of you, the dreadful feeling of emptiness began to seep into your bones and you missed him already. He continued to shower you in kisses before he pulled back to see the flow of cum dripping onto his sheets. You wanted to apologize, but you had a feeling he didn't care much.

You laid limp on the sheets, eyes droopy as your arms fell at either side of your head. Steve sat up, stretching out his limbs before he moved to stand to his feet. He disappeared from the room, and you whined weakly. It took a lot of energy to conjure up the sound from somewhere in your throat. He returned soon enough, chuckling at you as he shook his head, a damp cloth in his hand. "I'm right here, needy."

You watched him return to you, his hair falling over his forehead, his pretty lips plump and pink. He walked over to you, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your lips. He started cleaning you up, your face, your chest, the stickiness between your thighs. He took care of you, discarding the rag on his drawer and scooping you up in his arms.

He set you back on the bed, your head on the pillows this time. He knelt by the bed, his fists stacked under his chin as he stared at you, watching you watch him with dopey grins on both your faces. "You need anything? Water? A snack? I've got plenty."

You laughed gently, reaching out to curl your fingers in his hair, scratching his scalp gently like a puppy. He melted against your touch, warmth filling his chest at the attention. You chuckled again, pressing your palm to his cheek and stroking your knuckles over the soft skin. "Just want you," you told him. "Come on, get in." You pat the empty space next to you, and he graciously listened.

He cuddled up behind you, his arms wrapping securely around your body. You turned to face him, scooting closer to press your face into his chest. It was quiet for a while as he traced patterns along your spine. You called his name gently, tapping his chest. He hummed, his chin placed atop your head.

"Did you mean it?"

He furrowed his brow and looked down at you. "Mean what?"

"When you said you loved me," you whispered. "Did you mean it?"

He let out a gentle breath, tucking his finger under your chin and lifting your head to look at him again. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your own, lingering there for a while before he pulled away. "Absolutely. I've always loved you."

You smiled, pulling your head from his hand and burying your face in his chest. You closed your eyes and let out a content breath, holding his close. "I love you, too, Stewie."

He laughed, a hearty laugh that rumbling in his chest. Fuck, he loves you so much. He stroked his hand along your back and nodded once. "That's good."

Steve the Babysitter: ... Tag yourself here...

#steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #female reader #reader insert

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worth-the-chaos · 5 months

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Adventures in Babysitting Masterlist (ongoing)

Series Summary: As Dustin’s babysitter, you encounter the perils of the Upside Down as you try desperately to rid Hawkins of the evil lurking just below the surface. However, you’re not alone; you have the gaggle of kids as well as the one and only Steve Harrington by your side as you risk your lives attempting to solve the mysteries of your once quiet rural town | steve harrington x fem!reader (message me to be added to the taglist!)

Chapter summaries and links below the cut!

Part 1 - You haven’t been babysitting Dustin for very long. Underestimating his tendencies for rebellious behavior, you realize too late that he’s snuck out, with your dire search for the boy leading you to the last place you wanted to be: Steve Harrington’s house. | Word Count: 6.5k

Part 2 - With the events of last fall in the past, you attempt to move on, still working on your academics and babysitting Dustin. You and Steve have drifted since your encounter with the otherworldly, but he begins to make more active efforts to talk to you, making sure you have an invite to Tina’s big Halloween party. | Word Count: 6.3k

Part 3 - Billy is still hitting on you, Steve’s still mad, and Dustin’s still a pain in the ass to babysit. When he tells you and Steve that there’s a massive problem of upside down proportions, the two of you have no choice but to drop everything to help the boy, reprising your roles as badasses who eradicate the supernatural in Hawkins. | Word Count: 7.0k

Part 4 - Looking for Dart isn’t easy, but it gives you and Steve a lot of time to have a heart to heart, as you slowly start to realize your feelings for one another. | Word Count: 6.5k

Part 5 - The situation with the demogorgons gets increasingly more dire, leading you to the Byers’ house to wrangle four kids that can’t listen to save their lives (literally) while everyone tries desperately to save Will and the world. | Word Count: 8.9k

Part 6 - It’s summer, and you and Steve are working at Scoops Ahoy so that you can make money while Dustin is at summer camp. The lines between friends and something more continue to blur as your relationship with Steve gets more intimate, allowing doubt to creep in…and the Russians are invading Hawkins. | Word Count: 6.4k

Part 7 - You continue attempting to translate the code, commencing your operation to determine the nature of Russian involvement in Hawkins. Robin and Dustin continue their attempts to push the two of you together, tired of the mutual pining…oh and Erica has enough sass to probably take out an entire Russian army. | Word Count: 5.9k

Part 8 - Well, the five of you do get in that secret room, but the problem is you can’t quite find a way out. Tensions rise as you realize the gravity of the situation, the forced proximity revealing hard feelings between you and Steve. | Word Count: 7.2k

Part 9 - Held captive by the Russians, tensions rise and as you and Steve attempt to navigate communicating in a drugged up haze, your feelings for each other become even more apparent. | Word Count: 7.4k

Part 10 - The Russian invasion and the upside down begin to merge as you meet up with the rest of the crew. You are in the fight of your lives as you scramble to try to stop the monstrous creature from the upside down before it destroys you. | Word Count: 5.8k

Part 11 - Steve and you are finally officially dating, the kids are finally in high school and no longer need any sort of official babysitting, and life is overall pretty damn good. You try to push aside the unease settling in your chest, but how long can you ignore it before it manifests into something much worse than you could possibly imagine? | Word Count: 6.7k

Part 12 - The evil that you thought you had gotten rid of is still very much lurking within Hawkins. You, your boyfriend, and your friends race against time to try and find Eddie before it’s too late. | Word Count: 6.5k

Part 13 - As you all attempt to connect the dots of the gruesome murders occurring around your small but sinister town, secrets start to spill when Steve realizes you’ve been keeping things from him. | Word Count: 7.2k

Part 14 - Nancy and Robin take a shot in the dark and Steve tries to protect you from the supernatural. When the darkness comes to get you, will his love be enough to protect you? | Word Count: 6.0k

Part 15 - Racing against the clock, you and your friends desperately attempt to connect the dots before it’s too late. Your efforts bring both progress and peril as you and your boyfriend dive headfirst into life-threatening scenarios in order to save each other. | Word Count: 8.8k

Part 16 - For all your encounters with the Upside Down you hadn’t had to deal with it directly. Now, in a fight in foreign territory, you and your friends must struggle to find your way back to the Hawkins that you are familiar with. | Word Count: 9.7k

Part 17 - After finding out more information about Vecna, you and your friends prepare for the worst, and tensions rise as you mentally prepare for the possibility of a future without you in it. | Word Count: 7.7k

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denim-mixtapes · 2 years

Text

The Nice Guy Finishes Last - (Steve Harrington/Reader)

Word Count: 6.1k

Pairing: Steve Harrington/F!Reader

Tags: Explicit Smut -- 18+ only, minors DNI. Best friends to lovers, mild jealous!reader mild possessive!steve, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, oral sex (female receiving), face sitting, p in v sex, admissions of feelings, gooey fluff in the middle of sex.

Summary: When your best friend learns that none of your previous partners have taken care of your needs before their own (let alone gotten you off at all), he decides to take matters into his own hands -- literally, but even in the throes of passion, he's still your Steve.

Crackling speakers and a Madonna record provide the soundtrack to a house party at the Harrington house as you make your rounds to visit with friends. Steve’s friends mostly. Steve and Robin are the only two in attendance you would actually call close friends, Nancy and Eddie and Vickie were friendly, of course, but outside of that small circle everyone who showed up to these things you would call an acquaintance at best, and strangers that you can’t stand at worst.

Still, as Steve’s best friend and often the co-host of these things, you feel inclined to at least greet as many people as possible before letting loose and enjoying yourself. After quite some time and a couple watered down mixed drinks, you decide that you’ve done enough mingling and try to find your actual friends.

You half expected to see Steve wrapped up in some new girl already by the time you joined him on the couch, but bit back the bitter thought before it could show on your face. To your surprise, he’s engaged in an animated conversation with Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan Byers, who you didn’t even know was in town until you saw him sitting on that couch. His arm is snug around Nancy’s shoulder and she’s leaning on him heavily, drunk with laughter and cheeks red at whatever they’re talking about, which is a far cry from the tense arguing they had been doing the last time he was in town, but you’re happy to see her happy.

She and Robin smile at you in greeting as you fall into the couch beside Steve heavily, the cushion bouncing your body a little on impact.

Steve doesn’t greet you, he’s mid-sentence, but his arm wraps around your waist in a too-familiar way and pulls you closer. Robin raises her eyebrows at the pair of you, but you just glare back.

She’s been on your back for months about your relationship with Steve, or lack thereof. You made the mistake of mentioning your feelings for him in casual conversation, and ever since then she has been insisting he feels the same way, but if that were the case, you would think the endless parade of dates and new women he brought around would at least slow down, right? Still, there have been times you were inclined to believe her. When his smile would soften when you entered a room, or he would hold on for a beat too long after hugging you. The sudden flush on his cheeks and down his chest at his pool parties when you would catch him staring. Sometimes it’s easy to pretend he might feel the same way. Either way, you’ve been best friends since elementary school, and you’d rather keep it that way than take the risk and ruin it all.

His fingers squeeze at your waist now, and you hide your blush behind another sip of your vodka-something.

“That’s what ‘nice guys finish last’ actually means, Byers!” He scoffs, pulling his arm from around you to lean forward into the conversation, elbows on his knees. “It’s not some lament about not getting the girl, it's about getting the girl off before you do.”

There’s a bitterness in your throat as you scoff into your drink. You can understand why Nancy is red as a cherry now, but the comment still doesn’t sit right with you.

“You got somethin’ to say over there, babe?” Steve asks, turning to you with a quirked brow and a challenge in his eye.

“Yeah,” you roll your eyes and discard your empty cup on the coffee table. It cracks with the force. When you continue, you lay on the sarcasm just as heavy as he just did. “Sure do. ‘Cause most guys definitely let their partner finish at all, let alone first.”

“Nah, nah, nah,” Steve waves your comment out of the air before his hand lands on your knee and he lays back onto the back of the couch. Looking up at you, forehead wrinkled with faux concern, he continues, stumbling over his words under the intensity of your glare. “The right guys do. You can’t tell me not one guy you’ve been with has…taken care of you first before themselves? Not a single one?”

If your eyes could physically roll out of your head, you’re sure they would. What little liquor you’ve had is hot, liquid courage in your veins and you couldn’t hold back your candid, bitter response if you wanted to.

“Steven,” you chide, the sound of his full name draws a chorus of ‘oooohs’ from the group around you. “I have never had a single orgasm that wasn’t from my own hands. Not one.”

Pressure on your knee where his grip tightens at your words. His eyes darken with mirth and some heated expression you can’t quite place, and he opens his mouth to reply, but Robin interrupts.

“Okay let’s not give Harrington another opportunity to stick his foot in his mouth,” she’s across the circle in seconds, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up off the couch. “Come on, I need another drink, you do too.”

You put up some resistance against her hold on your wrist, but follow her without complaint. She remains wordless until you’re safe in the kitchen, where the only other soul is Jonathan’s friend Argyle, already asleep on the floor by the sliding patio door.

“What the hell was that?” Robin whispers harshly, looking over your shoulder to make sure nobody followed.

“What?” You replied simply, “he was being an asshole.”

“Please,” she says with a laugh. Her tone is light and teasing as she talks, mocking your previous conversation. “Oh, Steven, nice touch by the way with his full name, Nobody’s ever made me cum before, maybe I need YOU to give it a try.” Her smile widens as your eyes do. “Jesus, it’s like you were begging him to take you upstairs here and now.”

“I was not.” You insist, then shove her shoulder playfully when all she does is smirk. “He just says shit like that to push my buttons. I’ve confided in him before about the guys that I dated, he knows they’ve been less than stellar in bed. He was definitely trying to get under my skin. Rub it in.”

You just barely catch her mutter under her breath, “he wants to rub something alright.”

An annoyed groan is your only response, before pouring yourself another drink and joining the rest of the party.

By the time the party starts winding down, most of the attendees headed home to their own beds or onto the next party and your close circle of friends each claiming a room for themselves to sleep in, you’ve sobered quite a bit. Perpetually afraid of hangovers, you made it a habit to switch to water after a certain point in the night. Especially because you were also the one who stayed up even later to clean up a bit before knocking out, yourself. The only thing worse than a hangover was being put to work while hungover, so you tried to prevent either.

You think you’re the only one awake, stacking cups and dumping out half-drunk beers in the kitchen sink. When you go to close the curtains to the patio you notice that at some point, Argyle has moved out to the pool deck and is asleep on one of the vinyl loungers, cuddling a garden gnome. (Thinking back, you’re almost certain the Harringtons do not have any garden gnomes.)

Giggling at the sight, you shake your head and make sure the door is unlocked, just in case he decides to come back in before shutting the curtains.

Movement and a voice behind you makes you jump. “What’s so funny?”

You turn to the voice, knowing it belonged to your best friend before you even saw him, but still clutching your chest in surprise. “Oh uh,” you point your thumb out back, “Argyle. Snuggling with lawn ornaments.”

Steve nods slowly, fidgeting with the empty beer can in his hand. “Sounds about right…what are you still doing up? Everyone’s asleep.”

“I always do this,” you say, then tease, “what did you think there was some magic party fairy that always cleaned up while you slept?”

He has the audacity to look innocent, looking around at all the mess and shrugs. “I guess I never realized how bad it was when I went to bed.”

Yeah, because you’re usually already upstairs with the flavor of the week before everyone leaves anyway.

You shake the bitter thought from your mind and opt for a friendly, “Yeah well, cleaning relaxes me anyway so no big deal.”

“Here, I’ll help,” before you can even protest he continues, mumbling, “‘M not even tired, I slept until, like, 1 PM today.”

So the two of you move through the house in a silence that sits somewhere between comfortable and not, stepping over an occasional sleeping body, collecting trash and recycling, straightening books and blankets and anything out of place. Your conversation from earlier hangs in the air, and you can hear Robin’s voice urging you to say something about it as you move through the house. It’s like a dance, his body always close to yours. You step to the side, he follows, you move on to another room, he follows, always within arms reach but never reaching out. You can feel the heat from his body nearby when you reach up on your tiptoes to grab a red plastic cup from the top of the bookshelf, just out of your reach. Before you can step away to ask for assistance, you feel his hand on your lower back, steadying you, and his chest presses up against your shoulder as he slides up behind you to reach it himself.

He mumbles an apology and you swear you can see his cheeks pink in the dim light of the den.

“Hey,” he starts, voice soft and close. “I’m sorry if I was an asshole earlier. I just…never mind. I was just drunk.”

“No,” you protest, “go on. You just what?” You steel yourself for his admission, that he was just doing it to get a rise out of you, but it never comes.

“I can’t believe it, I guess.”

“What, that most men are the worst?” Your words are hard, but your voice is light. You cross your arms over your stomach comfortingly and lean on the armrest of the couch behind you.

“No, that-” he pinches the bridge of his nose. You’ve known him long enough to know that this expression means he’s at a loss for words. That what he wants to say is on the tip of his tongue but he can’t bring himself to say it. A sigh. A brush of his fingers through his hair. “I mean, yeah, I guess, but I just can’t believe not one person has put your needs before their own. You deserve that. At least that, and so much more.”

You snort, “well, keep spreading your gospel like you were to Byers earlier and maybe the trend will catch on.” You can feel yourself shrinking, your posture drawn inward at his words. You deserve that. You have to remind yourself to not twist them into something with more meaning.

“No,” he says, firm, and with a step forward. He rests his hands on the armrest on either side of your hips, bringing his eyes down to your level. They’re sincere. The soft, sweet Steve you’ve always known, but they’re dark, pupils wide and lids heavy as he studies your face. “I’m serious. Those assholes don’t even know what they’re missing out on.”

“I-” your breath catches in your throat. Steve’s face is so close to yours that his hair tickles your forehead. You could play connect the dots with his freckles at this proximity, and your eyes do just that, following them from his eyes, down his cheekbones and over the prominent ones on his neck. His adam's apple bobs, swallowing hard when you lift your gaze to his lips, wondering if that’s where this is headed. “What do you mean?”

His own eyes fall to your mouth as he replies, “how drunk are you?”

“Not at all.”

You intend to ask him again what he means, but he’s inching even closer still. Just before he closes the gap entirely, he murmurs a soft, “good,” and then his lips are on yours, warm and wanting and insistent. He brings a hand up to your jaw, holding you in place as his lips work against your own, tongue sweeping at the seam, awaiting your consent to keep going. They part on their own accord, granting him the access you both desperately crave. You melt into him, arms winding around his neck as his tongue brushes yours and his teeth graze your lower lip.

This kiss has a sense of urgency, but an all around feeling of ‘finally.” He smells like the same Ralph Lauren Polo he always has, spice and pine and something a little sweet, and tastes like whiskey. You can’t seem to pull him close enough.

Breath ragged as he breaks the kiss, his thumb strokes your lip and his chest heaves, a look of elation and a little bit of a challenge dances on his features.

You avert your gaze, suddenly shy once again, cheeks warm and lips pressed into a thin line as you study the floor.

“Look at me,” he says, thumb on your chin and pulling your attention back up from the ground. “I’ll say it again. Those assholes don’t know what they’re missing out on, because if you look like this after one kiss,” he pauses to run his fingertips over the deepening color on your cheeks, down the length of your neck, and along the collarbone rising and falling with your rapid breath, eyes following the path his fingers drew. “I can only imagine how spectacular you look as you cum.” You bite your lip in an attempt to stop another grin, and he stands abruptly, startling you with his sudden change in demeanor and taking a few steps back. His hands rake through his hair as he paces, then land on his hips as he turns back to face you.

Unsure of what to say, you giggle out a soft, “their loss I guess?”

“No fucking kidding,” Steve muses, bringing onefist up to rest his chin as he studies you. This new side of you he’s never been granted access to, flushed and breathless and still somehow shy, lips wet and pink and parted as you wait for him to respond. “God, if I were them...if given the opportunity I would-” He cuts himself off. Presses his lips together to hold in whatever it was he was about to admit. He looks away this time, a hint of worry in his eyes.

You reach out with your foot to kick his own softly, your socked toes nudging against his ankle playfully. “You’d what?”

“Full honesty?” He asks. It’s something you’ve been doing since you were kids. In serious moments, in moments of struggle or heavy emotion, if either of you asked for full honesty, the other would give it without question. You nod. His eyes darken again as he mulls the words over in his head. Then, meeting your eyes with a renewed intensity he says, “well, I’d get you to three before I was even undressed.”

Not for the first time tonight, your breath stutters, catching in your throat at his admission. You itch to respond, inside your head you’re screaming to say something clever, or even just say anything, but you’re just sitting there on the armrest of the couch, looking up at your best friend with this dumbstruck expression.

He can see your internal struggle, the awestruck look in your eyes, and the hint of a smile twitches at the corners of his lips, but he’s still been left hanging, vulnerable. So he asks, “what’s going on in your head? Full honesty.”

“I’m-” You hesitate. Your heart is racing, and there’s so much you want to tell him. So much more than orgasms and the order in which they should be given. So much more than playdates and best friends and platonic I love you’s, but he’s looking at your lips again and all you can think about is how much you need to feel his against them again, so you decide that the feelings talk will have to wait. You settle on a hushed, “I’m thinking that you’ve had that opportunity for a while…and that I might lose my mind if you don’t kiss me again, Harrington.” You were speaking to the floor, a little unsure, looking at the spot just in front of his feet, but when his name leaves your tongue, you finally look back up at him. He’s just as stunned as you had been, his mouth agape and eyes studying you for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, he’s back on you in seconds, grip on your chin once more as he bends to meet your lips. You stand, slowly, pressing your chest to him, needing to be closer.

He doesn’t seek permission this time, licking into your mouth with a hot, hungry enthusiasm. Greedy hands wrap around your waist, exploring the expanse of your back, up your neck to fist in your hair, down to rest on your ass and squeeze. Your own rest on his chest, keeping you steady as he kisses you senseless. Static fills your brain, fuzzy, warm, and all you can smell is Steve.

This is the Steve you always dreamed of kissing. All roaming hands and hot skin and hungry kisses. He moves with a confidence you only ever saw through jealous eyes, but now that he’s in your arms it’s addicting. Self assured, confident hands creep below your cheeks and wrap around your upper thighs, lifting without a word, breaking your kiss and drawing a squeal from you as you’re swept off your feet. You wrap your legs around his waist for stability, and place a hand on his neck, grinning down at him from your new vantage point. He busies himself with your neck, nosing along your pulse, breathing you in. A sloppy kiss here, a gentle peck there, scraping teeth against your pulse point as he explores your skin. He stops when he notices your breath hitch, smirking into your skin and knowing he’s found a sweet spot. He focuses his attention there, another bite soothed by the caress of his tongue before he latches on and sucks.

A whimper falls from your lips, your hand grabbing hold of the long hair at the nape of his neck. “Steve-” you whine, torn between pushing him away and holding him there in that very spot, “don’t - people are gonna notice.” Even in your haze, you’re worried about what people might say, knowing that everyone in this house will know exactly who left those marks, come morning.

“Let ‘em talk.” He mumbles into your flesh, looking up at you through fanned lashes before nipping his way across your throat to give the other side the same attention. “Been wanting this for so long...gonna mark you up however I want, show everyone you’re mine.” He practically growls the last word before craning his neck for another feverish kiss.

Steve walks you around the couch and sits back into it, pressing your knees to the plush cushion on either side of him. His hands roam again, fingers play at the strip of exposed skin between your top and jeans, hook in your belt loops, creep up your spine beneath your shirt.

Gripping the edges of your top, he raises a brow in question. “Can I…” he doesn’t finish the question, just taps the skin where his hands rest.

You’re about to nod, but movement in the next room stops you both. There’s a shuffle, some footsteps, and then the bathroom door closes.

You both look at the entry to the den, an open arched doorway with no actual door to be seen. A fit of giggles threatens to escape, but Steve holds a finger to his lips and taps your hips so that you stand. You poke your head out the doorway, making sure the bathroom door is still closed. It is, so you make a break for it, Steve hot on your heels and both of you hushing your laughter as you run up the stairs and try to make it to his bedroom before anyone else wakes up or your friend in the bathroom comes back out.

The door clicks behind you. Stood in front of it, giggling, you look on as Steve sits on the edge of his unmade bed and leans back on his elbows. Your laughter subsides as he looks you up and down, his once soft, fond simile turning devious as you both remember where you had been just moments before.

You lock the door quickly before padding across the carpet to stand in front of him, and he sits up fully, gripping your waist again and nosing at your stomach. He lifts the hem of your shirt and places an open mouthed kiss on your hip bone, smirking up at you when you gasp at the action.

“Where were we?” He asks, inching the fabric even higher. Your nod is near imperceptible but he notices, and he’s pulling the garment up and over your head and tossing it aside. “Oh,” he chuckles in disbelief and shakes his head. His hands cover his face, rubbing his eyes and then reach out for you, finding purchase on your neck and waist, pulling you down into him. It’s like neither of you can believe you’ve wound up here. “C’mere.”

His lips find yours again, fingers splaying across the cups of your bra, teasing along the lace trim. Without warning, he flips you, your body bouncing lightly on the mattress. Eyes raking your body with admiration, he pulls at the cups of your bra, exposing your breasts to his gaze and the cool air. Your nipples perk under his stare and the chill, and you already know that your flush has made its way down your chest, but Steve is looking at you in awe and you’re already touch drunk before he’s even gotten started. He continues his earlier assault on your neck, moving on even lower to bite and suck deep purple marks into the swell of your breast, lapping at one nipple hungrily while tweaking the other with his fingers before switching to give each side equal attention. You keen at the pinch of his fingers, arching into his touch with a whine. The way he looks at you floods your core with arousal, and you don’t realize that you’re doing it, but you push on his shoulder to urge him further south.

He tsks, “little eager, are we?”

You huff, hiding in your hands, dragging them down your face and grinning at the ceiling. “Shut up.”

The pop of the button on your jeans is his only response. Your pulse races, tiny fires igniting along your skin wherever he touches as he drags your pants down your legs. He settles himself on the floor, gripping your ankles and pulling you to the very edge of the bed. His gaze zeroes in on your core, the little wet patch on your panties making his mouth water. He looks like a man starved, like he could absolutely devour you, and he intends to.

Wasting no time, he dives in, sucking another mark into your thigh before turning his head to mouth at your clothed mound. His nose brushes against your clit through the fabric, and it feels like lightning to your nerves. You cry out, hands balling into fists in his sheets as he groans at your wetness. He plucks at your waistband with his teeth, letting it snap back into your skin once before deciding now is not the time to tease and finally pulling them off.

Steve rests his head on your thigh, smiling innocently up at you when he reaches out to drag a digit between your folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertip and circling your clit once before bringing the finger to his mouth and sucking it clean. He lets out another heady groan, eyes closing as he gets his first taste of you, and then returns to the task at hand. He swipes between your lips again, prodding at your entrance before thrusting in with two fingers. Your responding moan takes you by surprise and has you clamping a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” he urges, pressing a kiss into your thigh where his head rests. Fingers pump in and out, his thumb rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves. “Everyone else is asleep, and they’re all downstairs. I wanna hear you.” You clench around his fingers at that, drawing unison moans from both of you. Steve mutters praise into your skin as he fucks you with his fingers, curling them every so often to stroke that sweet spot inside you. “That’s it, let it out,” when you let out another high-pitched moan. “So wet for me, doin’ so well,” when your hips stutter to meet his touch even faster. “You smell so good, baby, I can’t wait to get my mouth on you.”

Your pleasure coils tight and low in your belly, and you hold Steve’s gaze for as long as you can stand. The intensity of his stare and the press of his fingers to your core is all too much and you’re already so close to the edge. He can tell, and he smirks, sinking a third finger into you on his next thrust. “C’mon,” he urges, pumping faster, working harder at your nub. “Let go for me.”

You do as he says. Skin prickling and toes curling, your orgasm takes over you. Head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, you cry out your pleasure as he works you through it. Every thrust of his fingers sends another shockwave through you, but he takes mercy and moves his thumb, giving your sensitive clit a much needed break. He’s stroking you lazily now. No urgency to his touch, but just enough to keep you on edge, keep you wanting more.

The laugh that he gives is cocky, downright devilish as he says, “That’s one.”

You throw an arm over your closed eyes, giggling at the comment and shaking your head. Even with his fingers buried deep inside you and his breath ghosting your pussy, he’s still the same old Harrington.

“I get it Steve, you made your point.”

“Uh-uh.” He says, shaking his own head. He withdraws his fingers and you whimper at the loss, clenching around nothing when he once again licks the digits clean. He crawls back up your body, stopping to hover over you with a fist on either side of your head. Leaning down he gives you another messy, hurried kiss. “I believe I promised you three.” Just as quickly as last time, Steve rolls again, shuffling higher onto the bed and pulling your body atop his. You both groan as your hips settle on his clothed, hard cock. His hips thrust up into you, the rough denim of his jeans a new, delicious kind of friction that has you whining into his mouth. Settling heavier into his pillows, Steve’s hands grip your hips and urge you forward. You break the kiss, scandalized at what you think he’s suggesting. You sit back, lips bitten and swollen and red, cheeks hot. You want to shake your head, tell him that’s not something you’re into but he looks so eager. Another hushed, “c’mere,” tumbles from him and you’re letting him guide you forward.

Your thighs cage him in, and his arms wrapped around them hold you steady. You’re hovering just above his smug grin, and instead of making some smart comment, you reach down to run your fingers affectionately through his hair. His tongue laps at your entrance, circling your hole with a pointed tip before dipping inside. His nose bumps at your clit with his fervor, and you mewl at the sensation. The lower half of his face is covered by your cunt, wet and sloppy and slick, tongue gliding through your folds. He groans, eating you out like a man starved being offered the most delectable meal. Your legs shake with the effort to keep still. Steve takes notice, reaching for your hips to shift you forward, pulling your full weight onto him.

You yelp, tumbling forward and steadying yourself with a firm grip on the headboard. He guides you from there, rocking your hips against his mouth. Your shallow pants fill the room, and the sounds coming from Steve are downright obscene. Wet, greedy sounds, paired with a moan that sends vibrations through your whole core. If you weren’t already wet enough, his hungry, desperate sounds keep sending shockwaves through you, and he tilts your hips forward so that he can wrap his lips around your clit, tongue sweeping over it insistently. The pressure in your belly returns, your thighs clenching on either side of his face as your vision goes out of focus. You barely mutter a needy, “close,” before another orgasm rips through you, throwing your head back with another wild moan and gripping the headboard with both hands.

Steve doesn’t let up.

Not only does he work your through your second orgasm, but he keeps you right on the edge of a third; sucking desperately at your lower lips, fucking into you with his tongue, humming around your clit to send vibrations straight through you. You didn’t know it was possible to be this close again this quickly, but Steve has you singing his praises and whining his name as he makes you cum for the third time that night.

Your thighs quake, your head resting heavily against your arms on the headboard, and you can’t stop the bubble of a laugh from escaping your lips. You’re giddy, drunk on Steve, utterly exhausted but desperate for more. He slows, still lapping at your wetness and working you down from two over-the-top orgasms. When it all becomes too much, your hips twitch back, overstimulated, and he takes the hint, kissing your thigh gently and helping you down onto the mattress beside him.

Steve leans up on his elbow, hovering over you with a dreamy look plastered on his smug face. You reach out for him, pulling his face to yours and tasting yourself on his tongue. It’s sinful, how much the taste of your arousal on his tongue only turns you on more, and you find yourself reaching for the hem of his shirt. Breaking apart only to allow the shirt to slip over his head, then he’s back on you, a little distracted trying to undo his pants, but unable to keep his lips off of you for another second longer.

Jeans tossed aside, kicked off his legs as if they offended him, you reach out to palm him through his boxers, savoring the animalistic grunt that it pulls from him, and pull back the waistband, reaching in to fist his cock. His lips part, forehead resting on your own as you stroke him, panting and disheveled above you. You shift up onto your knees and crawl down the bed a little further, hovering in front of his member as you stroke, drooling.

He stops you with his thumb and forefinger on your chin, pulling you back up the bed.

“As much as I would love – and trust me I would love – for you to suck my dick, this night will be over a lot quicker than I’d like it to be if you do…” He holds your face with both hands and presses a heated kiss to your lips, “...and I know you’ve still got one more in you, don’t you?”

You only nod dumbly, lower lip captured between your teeth, and Steve chuckles as he reaches across you to fish in the bedside table for a condom. He makes quick work of tearing open the packet and rolling it on, then he’s hovering over you once again, reaching down to trail his fingers through your wetness one more time. He grins when you give a weak, spent moan, and bumps your nose with his own. A twinkle of the Steve you know and love, a familiar smile and soft eyes. He kisses you softly, a tender contrast to the dirty talk and rough hands from before, and works himself into you slowly, letting you savor the stretch. He bottoms out with a huff, and peppers kisses over your cheekbones. He stays that way until you’re whining for it and gripping at his hair, nails digging into his scalp.

Pulling almost all the way out, he thrusts slowly once, twice, and then you give a deep moan and he lets go. The room fills with the wet slap of skin on skin as he fucks you, groaning, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. His sense of urgency is back, like the only thing on his mind now that he’s inside you is getting you off again.

Your hips buck off the mattress to meet his as white hot pleasure licks up your spine. Already thoroughly fucked out, you know you won’t last much longer, a fact that would embarrass you any other day but when Steve smiles at you and snakes his hand between your bodies to toy with your clit, you know no shame.

Steve invades all your senses, his cologne and musk surround you, his ragged breathing ringing in your ears. You can taste his sweat on your tongue and every inch of your skin he touches is alight with pleasure.

“One more,” he pleads, hips stuttering. He’s close, chasing his own release but holding back just enough to drag another from you first. His fingers pick up speed and his teeth graze the shell of your ear, whispering, “just gimme one more, cum for me one more time, baby.”

His words scorch your skin, hot and heavy in your ear. Your heart is racing, but so is his, pulse thrumming against your hands when you reach out to pull him into a final bruising kiss by the neck.

You moan your release into his open mouth, biting onto his lower lip and walls squeezing around him one last time. Steve isn’t far behind you, his pace faltering as he thrusts into you and stilling as he spills into the condom, forehead on yours and eyes screwed shut.

Both of you stay that way for a while, quiet, breathing each other in. Your hand absently plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, and he dusts little kisses along your collarbone. When he does pull out, it's with a shudder and a sigh, and he turns away only briefly to toss the condom into the trash. Searching the bed blindly, he finds his top sheet and pulls it up to cover your lower halves and pulls you in to spoon him, one arm wrapped around your middle, the other playing with your hair.

There’s never been a more comfortable silence between the two of you, and here in his arms, facing the darkness of his room, you feel a surge of bravery. Taking his hand, you play with his fingers and breathe deeply.

“Hey, Stevie?”

“Hmm?” His voice is quiet, just as content and sleep heavy as yours. A kiss on the crown of your head.

“Was this…this wasn’t just a one time thing, right? Full honesty.”

His hold on you tightens, “I sure hope not.”

You beam into the darkness before you and snuggle in closer. “Good,” you mumble. “‘Cause I think I’m kinda in love with you.”

“Yeah,” he grips your hand tighter and brings it above your head to place a kiss on your knuckles. “Yeah, I know the feeling. I think I’ve been in love with you for years.”

You let the quiet take over, then. There’ll be much more to talk about in the morning, when the sun is up and you’ve both rested, but you’re about to fall asleep in his arms with this new and somehow familiar feeling of comfort surrounding you. This is home, Steve is home…and he’s damn generous in bed.

#steve harrington/reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things reader insert #stranger things x reader #x reader #smut

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moonbeamoclock · 6 months

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Hot take that shouldn’t be a hot take:

my biggest pet peeve is when people tag something as a x reader but it’s actually an oc…..i got to the last chapter of a fic only for the description of the ‘reader’ to be of a white person.

then the author got nasty with me after i called her out about it but that’s whatever

it takes an extra 2 mins to have a generic description of a person rather then give the details of their appearance but some of y’all are just too lazy to do even that

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ebaylee422 · 1 year

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I Want Your Video

Steve x Fem!Reader

Author’s Note: Steve won the poll, when I first started really reading fanfiction on tumblr early 2020-2021 there was a fic with mutual masturbation with BestFriend!Steve Harrington and this plays into the very heavy. I’ve been wanting to fuck you forever part for inspo. Also just love Djo’s music so a lot of my WIPs have titles of his music. Requests are open if you want more sexy Steve, thank you for reading!

Summary: Family Video just became a little less family friendly with the new addition of the 18 and older erotic video room. You are more curious than your co-workers about what a dirty movie includes, the sexual tension between you and dreamboat Steve Harrington does nothing for your pent up frustrations.

Characters: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Family Video Worker!Reader, Dustin, Lucas, Mike, Max, El and Will love to pester Steve at his jobs, and gross mentions of Keith.

Warning/Tags: SMUT (Minors DNI), Steve has a huge cock, dry humping, marking, fingering (f receiving), blow job, overstim, small nubbins of insecurities with reader and Steve, Steve and reader share playful banter, a ruined Armchair, dirty talk, pet names, riding (save a horse ride Steve Harrington), we all love boobies, creampie, cum play? As always lmk if I forgot anything!

Word Count: 6.2k

"Well I knew they called it Family Video for a reason, I just never thought they'd take it so literally." You said as the three of you looked to the closed door with the new 18 plus warning sign, taking away your break room.

"Please stop mentioning it.” Robin pinches at the bridge of her nose

"What? At least people don't like, deal porn or try to find it at a public library." Steve adds setting the return tapes on the counter.

"Why would someone go to the library for PORN?" Robin boasts turning to her best friend,

"I don't know Buckley, people are stupid when horny." Steve admonishes

“Does that mean your always horny?” You tease, Steve opens his mouth to retaliated but Robin stops him.

"No, now we just have Keith, who was already always in the back room. Potentially watching adult films on the clock and putting them back." Robin shakes in disgust.

"Like a trial run, he’ll be able to give great recommendations." You add nose scrunched with laughter bubbling in your chest.

"Ew gross." Robin said nauseated

"Look he's creepy, but Keith is not that brave. Any one of us could walk back there." Steve says pointing to the ever closed office and backroom where Keith either naps or throws together a schedule.

"Maybe he wants to be caught?" you nod, taking new tapes to stock in the romance section.

“Maybe he wants you to catch him?” Steve wiggles his eyebrows following you,

"Maybe you want me to smack you in the face-" You turn to find him closer than you anticipated only a few inches separating your body from his.

"What? Don't be a prude now, you're the one who made the conversation interesting." Steve cut you off, chest puffed in challenge. His woodsy, ash, and vanilla smell intoxicating you as the spearmint on his breath floated you back to reality.

"That's because I'm interesting." You dare with a raised eyebrow, as his eyes flicker to your cherry lips.

"God please stop flirting in front of me or I'll get a cavity." Robin whines behind the counter.

"We're not flirting-" You scold, "Okay-" Steve holds his hands up in defense at the same time. You huff and continue down the aisle to stock, red in the face with embarrassment.

Towards the end of your shift the school rush dying down, you sit on the counter with Robin inventorying returns in the computer. Steve is holding the door open for a blonde girl popping her bubble gum with glossed lips. Giggling as Steve makes a fool of himself her chest rising with the laughter, over a Star Wars joke she didn’t understand. Explaining how she had been looking for the film in Alderaan places, and how he was always happy to help a pretty girl like her.

You understood the joke, just because he didn’t know what Ewoks were didn’t mean he never paid attention when you talked about your favorite sci-fi series.

“Stupid.” You mumbled under your breathe, rewinding tapes.

“Huh?” Robin asked, her doe eyes floating along the computers interface confused her mouth hung open.

"Robs, have you ever watched an adult film?" You asked, aggravated and pent up.

"Yeah but there's not a lot in my area of attraction so I just stick to the magazines." Robin motioned toward herself, still clueless to your annoyance.

"Uh-huh, well I want to watch one." Finally being decisive on the embarrassing topic,

"Are we seriously still talking about this?" Steve chips in

"Did you seriously just strike out? You talked with her for like 30 seconds." You said infuriated, turning around to see him leaning over the counter with his stupid fluffy hair and tight polo. Sans a phone number written on his arms or a torn piece of notebook paper.

"Just remember Y/N that's all a man can give sometimes, porn isn't realistic." Robin added knocking her head into your leg in frustrated groan.

“How would you know that?” Steve scrutinized his best friend,

“Is it true?!” Robins eyes were blown wide in astonishment, they immediately started arguing with you the only barrier between them.

"Okay, I'm just gonna go back there and pick one." You slide from the counter, move Robin out of your way, they paused mid-argument to poke at you.

"Go for it, have fun." Robin called

"But not too much!" Steve yelped when she pinched him,

Opening the cliché room, of neon lights with each film had it’s own space on the shelves you began to read some of the titles. Private Teacher, Taboo, I Like to be Watched, Educating Nina, Talk Dirty to Me 1 and 2, 8 to 4, there's honestly too many. So let's just say that the first one, Private Teacher, sounds like it has some plot. You slip it into your vest, walking out of the room to find Steve surrounded by his children.

“Please Steve what’s back there?”

“We just want to take a quick peak!”

“For the millionth time, no. You’re barely 13!”

“We’re actually 14 and or older Steve.” Max says deadpan standing arms crossed next to a girl you think was named Jane or El you weren’t 100% sure.

“Yeah kids leave the guy alone just because he would sneak you into the movie's at Scoops does not mean you get free rain of the porno’s.”

“Porno’s?!” Dustin yells as the rest of the kids shush him, looking around the other Family Video patrons.

“Yeah that’s enough Steve’s posse, your scaring away paying customers.” You shush them out the door,

"Come on, I bet you have some criticism about at least one of these dirty movies." Robin asks Steve who is using every fiber in his being not to embarrass himself in front of you.

"Actually, I haven't watched any of them yet," Steve says while he re-faces the horror films the kids probably messed with earlier.

“Bullshit-” You butt in, Steve turns to defend himself but is saved by Robin’s blabbermouth.

"I do but mostly for the... well you know, porno's aren't progressive in my territory yet." Robin held up the one, where the woman's boobs were almost completely out of her bra and there was a string of spit from her mouth to them.

"Well we could change this week's movie night at my place? This one seemed well loved. 3 rents already, and it’s only been a few weeks." I grabbed 'Private Teacher' walking over to Steve, the man had the woman bent over the desk, one of his hands pulling her hair so show her face for the camera. Her school girl costume left a tasteful amount of skin on show just for the cover. The tagline read ‘Sometimes A Little Private Instruction Is All You Need To Make The Grade’

He only glanced at the cover, "Yeah I'm good, I get my fill with my right hand and watching sappy some romance movies over and over again."

"Ewwww," Robin drones behind the counter. You laugh at his in response holding onto your sides while walking back over to her.

"Obviously, not in that order!" He follows, you pull out some rental money setting on the counter as Robin rang it up.

"Oh come on now, Stevie don't be the prude of the group. Robin will be there too and I know you don't have anything better to do. Since you're always at my house anyway." He scoffs hiding the tape under his elbow when another customer walks in.

"Yeah to get away from my asshole Dad, not to watch porn with you."

"I think he would enjoy the fact you're actually finding a hobby," Robin says, putting the tape into a plastic bag, brushing some hair out of Steve's face. He sticks out his tongue mocking her.

"Yes Robin, you're a truly hilarious comedian of the century. What do I have to do for you both to drop this? Especially as my best friend and basically my boss." You giggle at the obvious answer.

"Just come by tonight, Steve. I don’t wanna watch this alone. And like always bring your tissues for the movie," Robin almost falls over laughing, when you lean over the counter pressing a kiss to his heated cheek before waving goodbye. You spend the rest of your night picking up the apartment, filling the fridge with your friends favorite snacks, and vacuuming. You thought about lighting a candle, debating if that was too romantic to watch a Porno with your co-workers. Lighting it against those thoughts because it made the place smell nice. A knock at the door took you away from the sink of dishes from your breakfast.

“Come in! It’s open guys!” You yell turning off the faucet,

“What if I was a serial killer, Y/N? You’d let me wander about your living room?” Steve brushed his front past you setting a six-pack in the fridge.

“The only serial thing you are Steve is a serial pain in my butt.” You stick you tongue out, head lurching towards the direction of the living room only to find it empty.

“Ha-ha, ha.” Steve mocked, taking off his grey jacket to lay it across the counter before nose diving into the fridge again.

"How was your day? Where’s Buckley?" You pondered wiping your wet hands, the moving his jacket to a chair at the small four person dining table.

“Hanging out with a girl. And other than this chick at work begging me to watch porn with her, it was actually really busy." He threw a grape at where you were at the table, tossing a handful into his mouth with a crunch.

"I totally forgot about it until I was grabbing my wallet at the store, I was kinda embarrassed when I rediscovered it. The lady probably thought I was high as a kite!"

"Because you are," he drooled a little bit, speaking with a full mouth, raiding the fridge full of groceries.

"There's nothing wrong with blowing off some steam with a bit of erotica. Everyone does it," you turned tossing the soiled grape back at him, joining him in the kitchen again.

"Yeah that's gross, it's unspoken. Even creepy old men who can't get it up do it." He swallowed his mouth full then making an obscene gesture with his hand.

"Ew, gross Steve.” You say hands held up in disgust,

"See-"

"Well I'm not a creepy old man," You argued, taking the tape out of your bag. "Besides, it can't be that good or bad. Almost like a true neutral, just people going at it like animals." Walking into the living room, you closed the blinds and navy curtains before setting the tape into the already plugged in VCR.

"Okay hang on a minute, there's way better ways at blowing off steam." Steve interrupts, the fridge slams as his steps grow louder.

"Name a few for me, Lover Boy." You scoffed still bent at the waist, setting everything up at the entertainment center. Round shape of your ass in those acid wash jeans begging to be released. The sight made Steve’s own tighter around his crotch.

"I don't think you want to know mine," he says breathlessly, voice a bit deeper. You stood up and turned to where he stood, his back up against the archway that separated the two rooms. The tape started playing in the middle of the stars going at each other, extremely loud feminine moans rang from the Television. It broke you from the stare down, rushing to turn it down. He came up behind you on the rug, turning everything off altogether. After a pause of shock, you rolled over laughing against the entertainment center, covering your red face with your hands. Steve huffed sitting back on his calves, laughing at it as well. Eyes drifting to the swell of your chest as the laughing made it rise a fall. Dragging the hands down your face, leaning against the shelves. You clocked his stare immediately, his pupils are blown wide, lips slick as if he just wet them. Polo tight across his shoulders but untucked showing off a flash of his soft tummy. You swallowed hard catching your breath.

“Steve?” You reach out to him, his arms grip back at your elbows pulling you up on your knees towards his knees. “I wanna know, I want to know.” His nose pressed to your cheek, lip grazing over yours as he spoke.

“I can show you.” His voice broke, husky and deep exhale along your skin. Your resolve faltered lips fitting like a puzzle against his. You pulled far enough away to split for air, only Steve followed pressing you closer together. Hand resting along your neck, holding you to him.

"What's wrong?" You looked at him worried a line creasing your forehead he reached out to soothe.

"Nothing, you're just so...beautiful." He let his eyes wander, admiring that you’d even gave him the time of day.

“I want you. I want you to show me.”

“Okay.” Connecting again fireworks exploded behind your eyes. He pulled your top lip between his, you returned by licking the slope of his bottom lip from an open mouth kiss. Steve groaned, allowing you in. He tasted of the grapes from moments ago and spearmint of the gum he chewed to stop smoking, it was sickly sweet. My hand from his thigh came up to brush away the free fallen hair from getting in our way, the strands of hair were so soft, surprising, no matter how many times you’d wished to touch them. Pushing your chest against his, raising up on your knees deepening the kiss. He sunk down to a seated position, crossing his legs and leaning his head back to a lower level. It gave more access, he kept his hands in nice places like; nape of your neck, tangled hair, cheeks, small of the back and waist. You nipped his bottom lip, pulling gently then watched it fall back in place. He gripped one of your thighs, sending shocks of anticipation up your core. He kneaded, silently wanting for sometime. Everything was too good to break away and use words. You just obediently moved one leg at a time to sit on his lap. Using his shoulders to steady, lowering onto his lap. He whimpered in anticipation in you mouth, your heat grazed the zipper of his jeans. At the friction you gasped, lips swollen and lungs out of air, as you pressed foreheads together. Eyes opening to see him staring with hopefulness, eyes wide open. You teased lightly trailing lips over his. Waiting for a reaction, but he stayed firm. Hands on the ground by his sides holding you upright. Breathing as one for a moment before he spoke,

"I've thought about this moment for a very long time," He said only for the two of you, your fingers rubbed the five o’clock shadow of his jaw in your waiting hands "I want to, so terribly. I don't know where to go from here..."

He smiled a dorky smile into your skin, keening at the contact of you against him.

"Then stop talking and kiss me again." He obeyed, trailing his lips down to your jaw, throat and to your collar, moving the fabric slightly he started softly sucking and rolling his tongue over the area. Your hands desperately clung to the back of his head, he moved closer to the pot of your collarbones and throat leaving wet kisses. He stopped his mouth looking up, with those caramel eyes so full of devotion. Mind going fuzzy, seeing the way he not only looked but saw into you. The way he always has. "Don’t stare at me like that,"

"Like what?" He let the collar of the shirt scrunch back in place the movement made you squeeze your thighs around his middle, eyes rolling back in his skull.

"Like you want to kiss me or something." His hands both came up to brush his thumbs along your ribs, fronts pressed against each other.

"I will never stop looking at you like that, no matter what happens.” He smiled, “I gave you my heart long ago." You kissed him more primal this time, needing to taste him and etch the feeling of him into your mind. He was moaning into the embrace, he still barely touched as you tugged at his shirt below, when he broke contact to pull it over his head you stopped the kiss to admire his chest.

"Steve..." You wheezed through bloated lips. "Touch me, it's okay. You can't hurt me" He kissed back hard, slipping his hands underneath your tight work shirt, his hands cold against the hot skin covering your spine. Breaking free from his lips pressing kisses on his face, down his throat cooing into him when he unclasped your bra with one hand in a single fluid motion. Running his hands over your bare back, unknowingly while you rotated your hips in small circles against his wanting more. Craving the contact and friction of him against you. He daintily ran his hands down your body hesitantly gripping the plush of your ass adding more pressure to the growing friction. His zipper felt so good against your own, letting go of your lips on his neck throwing your head back. As the feeling of his hard-on pressed up against your clit. Putting both hands on the floor behind you while he moved your hips against each other in sync, panting and grinding seeking release. Steve's abdomen flexed as he twitched under you, he was cumming loudly moaning your name from his pink lips. It sounded like a song when he said it, his release came fast, his chest heaving heavily as he pulled your body back against him. Hugging each other till lips grazed, as he came down from his high. You tried to suppress the giggle as his hands traced shapes along the small of your back.

"What are you so giddy about? You just made me cream my pants like a middle schooler." You shook your head tracing at the mark I left on his shoulder,

"Well since we're already past the point of no return. I didn't think you would be so loud." you pulled back lip bitten between teeth,

"Maybe if you weren't mauling me like a hungry lion, I could've stayed quiet." He tucks his head under your chin,

"I told you, I’m a lion girl not a ninja.” He laughed across your throat warming you as he kissed the flesh again. “Maybe I should pounce effectively, so I can really hear you scream my name." Steve stopped abruptly to meet your eyes, pupils blown wide, you felt immediately self-conscious blabbering out an apology before he could turn you down. "I’m so sorry, was that too much?"

"No...” He purred, this close you could tell the scent of him was distinctly cedar. “I've actually never been more turned on." He pushed his lips to mine, rolling our tongues against each other, knowing exactly what you liked. He tightened his grip on on the fat of your hips and making you moan into him, pulling away his lips, forehead glistening, his eyes full of lust. He trailed his fingers up to help the offensive fabric of your shirt off, the bra slowly falling the rest of the way off your shoulders. His length twitched against the inside of your thigh again, he was entranced by the image. Still as a statue until guiding his lips down to the spot on you chest that made the world melt. He kissed everywhere, you kept each hand in his hair scratching at his scalp pleasantly. Leaning forward he placed your back against the carpet, hovering on top of but keeping himself slotted between your legs. Involuntarily moaning when he licked at erect nipple, he mirrored the same to the other one. His dick throbbed against the stain of cum, straining against the fabric. Kissing each while he unzipped the high waist of your jeans. You bucked your hips and helped him pull them down, he took them off your trapped ankles, restarting his descent to kiss down the length of your body again. Wet open mouth kisses making shooting sparks through your body at the intimate contact, grabbing his hand on the ground.

“You are even more beautiful than my dreams ever allowed. Everything, you are everything.” His eyes silently asking for permission. As he slid a hand under the fabric of the green panties. You gasped loudly at the unbridled new contact of his palm, lowering to gather the dampness, trailing it up to your clit. He circled twice as his other fingers began to slowly plunge inside. You keened, calves dug into the bare flesh around his waist, “You're so wet for me,” sighing, hands finding purchase on his biceps, he hissed as his face fell into your neck.

“Uhh… Harder.” You held his arms with such intensity, leaving crescent marks into the skin digging hard into his muscle. Turning you chin down to find his lips to kiss, and silencing moans together his thumb began to swirl faster, his middle and ring finger able to go a little deeper with the changing hand position. Not being able to control the heat coursing through, you squeezed his hips harder. He whimpered, pressing himself up against your thigh rutting the fabric against himself for some contact. “Your fingers feel so good…” Moving lower, spreading wider to move your hips against his fingers, they worked expertly to consume all your senses. He pushed in a little further and harder, forcing you to look at what he was doing so wonderfully between your legs. Moaning obscene words, as your back arched further his fingers scissoring to stretch your walls. Clenching around his fingers that disappeared inside. “Holy shit- don’t stop.” Your hands fell to the floor grabbing the shag of the rug underneath, as muscles tensed unlike anything you’ve felt before. You came hard without warning, the orgasm spread through you, completely overwhelming, your legs shook out your high as he kept going, pressure building through your bladder before you felt a light gush.

"Fuck" He whispered in you ear, you could feel the shit eating grin off of his body language.

"I haven’t done that before," you tell him.

"Yeah me either, ya know to a girl… I do that every time," he said into your neck, your cheeks instantly flushed. Laughing at his dorkiness, he moved your panties back in place. His fingers parted his lips, licking them clean of your arousal. You felt him throbbing against your thigh as you lightly pushed off the ground. Taking Steve's hand, you pushing him back to climb on the Lazy Boy you'd recently bought.

“What are you thinking, Sweets?” his voice was dark, he moved up the chair and sat. Spreading his legs for you, like the good boy he’d been.

“I just want to clean up my seat, Lover Boy.” You knelt down unbuckling his jeans, pulling them down and his ruined underwear. Letting him finally be free from the confines of the fabric, his cock flung back up pre leaving a pearlescent trail on the course hair of his happy trail. Steve was massive, how he’d fit into those jeans daily made your head spin. You would make him fit, even if his cock impaled your insides.

“You don’t have to, no one’s been able to take all of me before.” He took your wanderlust as fear, and shit now you had to prove him wrong too. Your nails ran up his thighs as you collected some spit in the front of your mouth. Letting it drip onto the head, nails gripping his thigh to hold him in place you took the other hand and ran it across his length. Hitting the large vein along his shaft with your thumb, he pushed his head back against the plush chair. Fighting to buck up into you with everything in his body and mind not to blow his load again or buck up into you. He was breathing extremely heavily now, you gently kissed his red tip and watched as his fingers dug into the armrests. He held his breath a bit before you squeezed his thigh, then he exhaled. You then licked a long stripe down his shaft, you came back up to the tip flicking it with your tongue.

“Jesus, stop with the teasing Sweets,” You smiled like a siren, before holding him with a hand stroking up and down with your lips wrapped around the tip. He accidently to bucked his hips, you pressed his pelvis down taking in his full length.

“Holy shit!” Steve gasped. Hollowing your cheeks, you worked him to a pulp as your jaw went slack. His hands reached out to grab the hair that fell covering how you looked sucking him. Pulling it all to one hand, he didn’t need to guide your head, you were able to bob your head down him with a fair amount of ease with how wet you’d gotten his shaft. Tearing up and gaging if you went too slow, but it was well worth the noises coming from his beautiful lips. He watched in awe as you swallowed around him, eyes watery and spit slick chin, moving your second hand under his heavy sack you massaged them with each upstroke. HIs eye closed tightly as he twitched inside your mouth throwing his head back warning you. You took it all with a delightful swallow, helping him ride out the rest of his high with a hand. The only time he pulled his makeshift ponytail was when he could’ve cried from the stimulation. You relented with a pornographic pop, wiping your chin with the back of your hand and slowly stood going to straddle him, he playfully grabbed your body and pulled you to him on the lounge chair.

“That was way better than any other girl or me just watching porn.” you looked at him mouth agape, he was eye level with your bare chest.

“See, I knew you watched porn. A shit ton of it.” you slapped his chest.

“Yeah, but nothing compares to the real thing,” he began to kiss the marks he already started on your chest, in places only he’d only been allowed too. Your hands cupped his face for him to look at you. He smiled his beautiful heartfelt smile,

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“I don’t know but Robin is the best wing women ever. She told me if I didn’t kiss you tonight I shouldn’t even bother showing my face at work tomorrow.”

“Wait, what is Robin doing?”

“She cancelled so we could in her words ‘either fuck away the tension out or kill each other’ .”

“Well she is definitely my favorite lesbian. That multi-lingual B is a genius. I would’ve let you do this even if you’d just. I don’t know asked me on a date.”

“Bullshit-, really?”

“Are you kidding?! You are so out of my league Steve, I’ve never been in your ballpark ever in my life.” He grimaces, thumb tracing idling along your hip bone.

“I’ve always thought you were the most beautiful, smart and caring girl. I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing, and I selfishly want you all to myself.” he whispers with affection you’d never heard from him before. Adam’s apple bobbing with his thick swallow of emotion.

“Then you have me.” he bit back a smile as his lip clashed with yours passionately kissing you, he faintly pulled your hair. You moaned at the action, spine tingling as you roamed your hands around his frame. Mapping out ever mole and divot along his heated skin. Trailing them back and forth on his chest like a sensual massage. He moved his hands to get a better angle on your hips, and began rowing them against himself. You both groaned at the friction, “Look who’s the tease now,” you pouted at him as a finger inched it way to your clit tracing tight consistent circles. Your nails tear at his shoulders with pleasure, making him shudder under you. ‘God how many rounds could you go with him’ “Please… uh. Tell me you're ready.” you push your head into his neck, his fingers had already fine-tuned your pleasure. He stopped, fingers yanking your scalp to crash your lips to his. He still rowing you against his length, until his lungs screamed for air.

“I’m always ready, how do you feel about this?” he stops his motions, you felt unfulfilled when the movement ceased. You brain finally grasping some clarity, Steve would stop everything here if you wanted him too. Helping you re-dress and seeing himself out. Never telling a soul if you’d asked, he’d be celibate if you’d ask. Buying you the finest ring until your wedding night then ravishing you in your honeymoon bed.

“This doesn’t change the way I feel about you. You’re perfect to me Steve.” he gave you a sinful smile, reaching his hand under your adjoined hips pushing you up onto your knees. While he finished working himself up, you waited as patiently as you could by marking his neck.

“God you're so wet for me, these panties are drenched after sucking me. We should’ve gotten rid of them, already.” His eyes were playful, and needy for more and all of you. He helped you stand, putting your hands on his shoulder to balance you as you took them off. Just the sight of you fully naked made his heart ache, he kissed your arm lips too far for his liking. Wanting even more contact, he grabbed your waist again leaning back into the chair. You kissed him lazy, you both were fucked out of your minds already. Now it was just comforting, you had all the time in the world. It was slow, sweet, his lips were so soft you still felt them all over your body. His hands roamed but craved to rest on your chest above your heart. You pressed your forehead against his, catching your breath. His hands on your hips, guided you gently down as you felt him at your entrance.

“Take your time, Sweets. I want us to enjoy this,” nipping at your forearm while sitting himself farther up the chair, feet still planted on the ground.

“You want me to top, you?”

“Is that a problem?”

“I haven’t done that… Before.” You told him shyly,

“Well, well. Looks like we're about to enter a new realm of pleasure for you…” Licking his lips, “just take me in your hand and guide yourself down at your own speed, Sweetheart.” His comforting words sent a tingle down your spine, you put your hands on the soft skin where his pelvis lies. He just observes your movements gripping your hips like a steering wheel, mouth awestruck as you lower yourself down onto him. His hands dig into you, as you let him fill your insides. Immediately he’s touching things you’ve never felt, it’s painful in the most remarkable way.

“Shit, babe. Oh my god. Didn’t-Didn’t think you’d take all of me on the first go.” he shifts pulling your chest so he can latch on to his dark purple mark there. It causes a rush inside you even just the slight motion making you want to explode.

“Feels so full, god your fucking humongous Steve.” You whined, high pitched and needy. The ach of his cock started to morph from a burn to a stretch faster than you thought as your arousal dripped down your thighs. In brief circles you moved your hips against him, keeping him completely sheathed inside. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, he moves his hands to your thighs squeezing hard making you grind faster. He comes up for air from you chest and lets out a gracious moan,

“Stevie, pull the handle.” you whimper at him,

“What?” he mutters breathlessly.

“Holy shit, just…” you're on the brink of another powerful orgasm, pussy gripping him like a vice ”pull the handle back, trust me.” he lets go of one of your thighs frantically looking for the handle on the side of the recliner. He finally finds it and pulls hard, sending his lower body up into yours and your upper body over his. You both moan in ecstasy, his hand going back to your thigh. Sitting back up, you place one hand on his lower abdomen and the other on his hairy thigh behind you. He continues to groan affirmations and your name at the changed position, sending you over a small cliff. Only adding to the larger knot in your stomach, running up your body.

“Keep going I want you to cum, cum around my fat cock.”

“Don’t stop, stay right there. I want it all.” You pant feeling him twitch inside you, moving your hips with his.

“God you're so wet, and you ride me so good Sweetheart.” he playfully smacks your ass, you change your position again to bring your lips to his. He moves your body up and down while kissing you, letting you dominate his mouth while he starts to push harder into you. Propelling himself up, while his hands push you down into him in an erratic give and take. This is what you’ve needed, this was perfect but not even the start for both of you. He continues to praise you through breaths of pleasure “I got you” , “I can make you feel so good, Sweetheart.”, he gets filthier and louder and you keep moving, riding each other to passionate oblivion. Your mind ventures to his lips all over you, yours on him, the coil in between you wraps him tightly inside you. Your body starts to shake from the high, you press your upper body against his chest the hair rubbing against your hardened nipples.

"Good girl, milk my cock. Feels so good, gunna cum. You gotta move Sweets."

“Want to feel you, feel you dripping out of me Steve.” He mewls, clinging to you.

“Shit. Beg me for it, tell me how bad you want me to cum inside you.”

“Oh Steve,” you open your eyes, pressing your forehead down to meet him, his open too. You clutch your walls around him harder as he tries to finish riding your orgasm, “Please.” You whimper. That’s all it takes he gasps and finally bursts in you. Lips soothing against yours for that other contact. You feel the hot liquid inside you, wringing him dry of everything that he could possibly have left.

Separating for air out of the kiss, feeling his hot breaths against your cheeks, he groans, swallowing hard at the sensitivity. You brush your hair off of your sweaty face, holding onto the back of his neck to see him better. His eyes gleamed with passion, you smiled back.

“My legs are jelly,” you laugh in his face,

“I’ll take that as an answer to my question then,” he smiles, lifting your hips up. He easily slips out of you, you groan in frustration at the emptiness between your legs. Hissing at the loss as well, his abs quiver against the softness of your soft tummy. He pushes the foot rest back, so he can sit upright in the chair. Capturing his lips in yours, leaning you back as he holds you manhandling your hips, rotating you forward to help you stand.

“I could kiss you forever.” He admits kissing your shoulders as you put your feet on the cold floor, pushing off of his knees. You wobble slightly,

“See,” you turned to face him again, pulling him up to stand together face to face. He stumbled a bit too, “completely fucked out of my mind.” He wraps his arms around your waist swaying you slightly in an embrace.

“You did so good, Sweetheart. We should get cleaned up.”

“I did good, how did you not run out of cum? Three rounds your insatiable.”

"Told you, I don't joke about my porn." He winks, kissing the corner of your mouth as he picks up your discarded clothes on the floor of the living room.

"No wonder you're idolized by 14 year old boys." You roll your eyes, picking up your panties. This time when you bend own he can see his spend dripping down your slit. He chuckles from behind you a free hand, coasting down your stomach to your heat. You gasp as his fingers collect his cum from your thighs, you spin in his hold to meet his eyes.

"Open." Steve commands, eyes clouding with lust as he watches you stick your tongue out for him. His fingers slide along your tongue covered in each other's spend. It's comforting, salty, and heady against your tongue. You moan around him, sucking the taste clean from his fingers. He fingers slip out tongue replacing them, as he tips your chin up to meet his lips deeper, tongue kneading yours as he memorizes you. Inside and out.

“You know,” You murmur into his mouth as his mouth strays from yours coasting to mouth down your jaw. “I have a camcorder somewhere in my closet.” He freezes lips parted and eyes wide.

“Yeah? You don’t want to finish the movie? I was just starting to enjoy it.” You pout your lips, while he picks up all of the clothes from various places you threw them.

“Yeah... We could or..?”

“Or?”

“If you wanted we could make are own video?” Steve doesn’t even dictate your question with a response only hoisting you over his shoulder and burying you in the mattress for the rest of the night.

Masterlist

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #family video #lesbians are the best wing women #robin buckley matchmaker #stranger things smut #stranger things season 4 #no minors allowed #reader insert #oneshot #stranger things

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oceansdesire · 2 years

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SFW/NSFW Writers

Writers who take both SFW/NSFW requests for Stranger Things Back to the MasterList

@upsidedownwithsteve @sinclaiirs @hellfirexclub @lil-stark @creelhousesteve @hellfireclubmember @maryam-444 @hellfirewhores @guccisweatpants @constillatedchaos @wrenniebaby @eddiemunscum @steveharringtonarchives @fanfics-i-write-in-my-spare-time @taiyothewriter @mytheoristavenue @chopper-witch @staticfangz @nostalgiaenthusiast @jvblood @danowie @wrenniebaby @denim-mixtapes @turdmongler @eyedrisaol111 @bxnnywriting @helpwhatsthis @0hollowpurple0 @mvunson @eddiemunsonssoulmate @where-is-francis @aphrogeneias @theoreticslut @boldlyvoid @catonthesideoftheroad @thefreakymunson @greengoblinswifey @prettyboyeddiemunson @thestoryden @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @inklore @peterthepark @eddiebun @mggswhorificlover @retrofeverdreams @heartvouge @eddiemunsonswhxre @fairymunson @ladylannisterxo @thefinalgirlpng @saintlessmunson @glasvera @centralperksfunds @mggswhorificlover @masterofmunson

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sammy-is-not-smiley · 1 year

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steve x fem!reader fic please!! soulmates to lovers but it's initially one-sided on reader's end. lots of angst please <33

Let It Hurt (Pt 1)

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve has been your best friend for years despite his douchery in early high school. You would tell him anything... well, anything except for the fact that you've been feeling his physical pain since elementary school. The way he finds out is less than ideal.

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: Soulmate au (kinda), language, no use of (y/n), depictions of severe pain, injuries mentioned, crying, passing out/fainting, angst, set in season 3, soulmates to lovers, friends to lovers, hurt/no comfort (yet), I think that's all??

A/N: I really love this request, the only issue was I've never written or read a soulmates fanfiction before 😅 But that didn't stop me cuz I instantly had an idea for it and ran with it. It's gonna be a 2 parter too! I really hope you still enjoy. Thanks so much for reading and requesting. <3

Part 2: Right Here!

Steve Harrington hadn't always been a dick. In fact the mask he wore through a majority of high school was just that: A mask. One that he used to blend in.

From an early age, you two gravitated to one another. It all started one day in elementary school. You had managed to get a soccer ball stuck in a tree while playing kickball. Being scared of heights, you knew you wouldn't be climbing up to get it. That didn't keep you from staring up at it though, trying your hardest to get the ball to fall with your mind. Steve walked up next to you to see what you were looking at. When he caught sight of it, he didn't hesitate to begin climbing the tree, as if that had simply been routine for him. In awe, you watched him scale through the branches, throw your ball down next to you, and climb back down.

You picked up the ball and just stared at him then, surprised at the ease he managed the task with.

He dusted off his pants, looked at you, gestured to the ball, and asked "You wanna be on the same team?"

From then on, you were inseparable. It didn't take long before you discovered something new. Steve took a fall while running bases one day, earning a nasty scrape on his knee in the process. As he sat in the dirt and held it, holding back tears, you were doing the same on the other side of the field, clutching a knee that bore no injury. Yet somehow, you could feel the pain. You could feel his pain.

Through your life after that event, you would get random strong bouts of pain that you knew weren't yours, all in random places. As a kid it was mostly just things like your knees or elbows, like you skinned them, always when Steve skinned them. In the summer you would sometimes feel a sunburn that never turned red, only for Steve to return from a trip with a sunburn. In your mind, all the evidence wasn't evidence enough, at least not to tell anyone. You tried your best not to look in pain in front of anyone when it happened, and you got pretty good at it. Eventually it became the norm for you to hide it, and you didn't plan on changing that. You were worried Steve would react badly to it somehow if you told him, or call you crazy and ditch you. So it stayed your little secret.

You and Steve lived on through the school years, friendship staying relatively the same.

It wasn't until freshman year you sensed a shift in him. Something bitter to the taste that didn't belong, a sprinkle of salt where there used to be sugar. That salt was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins. Somehow they wormed their way in, pushing you out with glares. Steve only hung out with them when he wasn't hanging out with you, which slowly became less and less. He wasn't getting into any trouble, he just became a gigantic jerk to anyone Tommy deemed worthy of being a jerk to. Eventually Steve was seen as the lead in their escapades, 'King Steve' as it were, but you knew the truth. Steve was just the limp head that Tommy turned in one direction or the other. By tenth grade, you barely spoke to him anymore… and you missed him.

In 1983, one of the largest pains happened - 'attacks' is what you began calling them after this because, honestly, that's what it felt like. It felt like Steve had been attacked, beaten to a pulp. For days after this one, your lip, nose, and especially your upper brow ached. You were sure the skin had been broken somehow, however it remained an invisible ghost. After it happened, you tried calling him. However, he never picked up.

In school, you saw him with a scabbed over face… and he looked miserable. But, as much as it hurt, you assumed he didn't need you anymore. After all, he had a smart and pretty Nancy Wheeler now. Surely he had forgotten about you and didn't want your help. You don't know how many nights you cried over that. How many times you thought to try and call him again. Instead, you waited.

It was a long while before you felt pain even close to that again. On a cold Monday night in November of '84, it happened again, but even worse than the year prior. Another attack.

It was the middle of the night, awaking you from a normal slumber. When you first felt it, it was only a couple hits. When it subsided, you took a breath, slightly annoyed at Steve for getting into a fight this late, and got up to get a pain killer to hopefully numb the ghost pain. From what you could tell after past experiences, it helped. As you rounded your bed for the bathroom, your knuckles bursted with pain and made you stop and grasp at them. Steve must have thrown a punch and hit his target. You didn't have much time to process that thought before an onslaught of attacks bombarded you. Harder and harder and harder, one after the next you could feel the swings and blows. Every punch to the face and gut, explosion after explosion of searing pain rattled your skull. You couldn't breathe, couldn't even cry out for help. Eventually you became too dizzy to stand and found yourself collapsing to your carpet in a whirlwind of invisible strikes to your head and face.

That night, you passed out on your bedroom floor. When you awoke in the same spot, you were greeted with an angry agony you had never felt the likes of before. Every heartbeat made your sight shift, your eyes strained and ached, your nose felt as though it were broken, and your mid section felt deeply bruised. You were stuck in bed for days afterwards, sensitive to any kind of loud noise or light. You were certain Steve had managed to get a concussion, however you were too miserable yourself to try and pursue him. Headaches became your best friend, and it wasn't a kind one.

When you went back to school, you were met with Steve looking literally like death. From a safe distance, you could see that both his eyes were blackened, his lip looked busted and healing, and he had a few scratches over his forehead. Rumors circled around you that Steve and the new kid, Billy, had gone at it a week prior, and Steve was obviously the loser in the fight.

You found yourself staring at him more than you probably had in the past year. You had no intention of speaking to him, but you couldn't avert your eyes. Your head still throbbed with his and you couldn't deny that you felt pity for him. Once or twice he happened to catch you staring, sharing a moment before you eventually turned away sadly. That happened a few times in fact, so you should have expected him to be at your doorstep not long after.

He held a single flower, your favorite kind, and your favorite candy. His bruised, purple face practically pouted at you as he rambled on an apology, saying he understood if you didn't want to be his friend again, that he was a douche for no reason and he doesn't deserve much, but he wanted to try again and make it up to you. The longer you let him ramble, the harder he was on himself, until finally you leapt forward and embraced him.

"I knew it wasn't you," You spoke into his shoulder. "I was just waiting until you figured that out too."

After many long talks about the time lost and the mistakes made, you both managed to pick up where you had started. You sat with him at lunch again like old times. Not many people did anymore. You gave him some tips on how to better heal his scarring, you came to watch him play basketball, and you offered him pain killers when you could feel one of his head aches coming on. You noticed he tended to get more of those since the fight with Billy. He always looked so shocked when you offered, but you made the excuse saying you had a headache and wanted to offer while you had the pills out. It seemed to appease him enough, and he never dug any further about it.

It didn't take long for you to realize you liked being around him… like, really liked it. After some thought, you realized you always had. And it wasn't like it was hard to find time to be with him. Other than Dustin Henderson, you seemed to be his only close friend again. It got to the point where by spring of the next year, you were sleeping over at his house quite often. You never slept in the same bed, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't wanted to ask to.

One day he picked you up for one of the last days before graduation with a sour look on his face. His greeting was deadpan as you got in his passenger seat.

You snickered at him as you pulled your seat belt on. "What's up with you, grumpy?"

"Parents, that's what's up," He grumbled, backing out of your driveway. The way he put his hand on the back of your headrest made you stare for a moment.

Damn him.

"What they do this time?"

"Dads not letting me work for him. And he won't pay for college either."

Your brow came together in confusion. "Wait, what? Why? I thought that's been the plan all these years. You graduate and then help him or go to school."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too," He sighed, "But the old man's making me go out and work to get a job. Said he doesn't want to hand me everything and that I need to learn respect and responsibility, blah blah blah…"

Well at least he didn't hit you this time, you thought to yourself. Unfortunately, you always knew when his dad hit him… Every single time. His favorite technique was to slap Steve square in the face, hard. No one else did that. No one else even knew. Steve didn't even know you knew.

You tilted your head as you thought. "Well… What if you tried to work with me? At the new mall this summer? I'm pretty sure I have a solid 'in' at the ice cream place."

Steve scoffed, half smiling. "An ice cream shop?"

"Oh come on, it's not the worst place. It will at least give you something to put on a resume. Just a summer job. Ya know, work your way up, get experience or whatever."

"I guess…" He thought, then brought his hand up and pointed at you. "But only if you work there too."

"Aw, what, would you miss me working somewhere else? Need me to hold your hand at your first job?"

He rolled his eyes, finally smiling for the first time that morning. "You wish. No, see, the plan is to make you talk to all the bitchy 40 year old moms while I eat free strawberry ice cream in the back all day."

Your brow perked up. "Strawberry ice cream? Strawberry? When did that become your favorite?"

He shrugged. "Since, like, forever….. Don't look at me like that, it has clear supremacy over the other flavors."

The rest of the ride to school that morning was spent in a useless debate over ice cream flavors and how you had managed to go so long not knowing his favorite. You insisted on gaslighting him that strawberry had never been his favorite.

Later that month, right after the end of the school year, you both were locked in to work at Scoops Ahoy together.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

"Another 'you suck', Harrington. What a surprise," Robin teased flatly from the back room, a squeaky tally added to the many others accumulated on the whiteboard that day.

You smirked, which was hidden from Steve behind you as you refilled the banana and strawberry slices for that afternoon.

Steve groaned and slapped his hat down on the counter next to you. "What am I doing wrong?" When he was answered with only your chuckles he shook his head. "No, really, what am I doing wrong? There's gotta be something I could change and you guys just aren't telling me."

You and Robin stole a glance at each other before snorting and continuing to laugh.

"Look buddy," You offered, turning to him. "I'm going to put this in the nicest way possible."

Steve raised his brow and stood straight in attention.

"You're coming off super desperate."

His posture sagged again and he rolled his eyes. "Desperate, okay… Well how do I not come off as desperate?"

"Don't BE desperate, dummy," Robin laughed.

"I'm not actually desperate!"

"Yes you are," You and Robin chimed at the same time.

You grabbed your trash from the counter and looked at the girl in front of you, shaking your head with a half smile. "He asks us for help and then ignores us." You say as you push past Steve to get to the back.

She shrugged. "The life of every woman talking to a man."

"Oh, come on," Steve interjects, following you at the heel, "What makes you the expert at flirting with girls anyway?"

"I don't know, cause I am one?" You call over your shoulder, tossing your trash and gloves in the bin before walking over and sitting down at the table.

"Fine," He mutters, striding over to you and leaning on the table to loom extremely close over you. You could smell his cologne and the way his hot breath brushed your forehead. "How should I flirt then, Miss Professional?"

Like that, you think to yourself, butterflies suddenly having a party in your stomach. The smug look on his face was one you'd seen many times before, the one he wore when he tried to get under your skin… The one he wore when he knew he would.

Immediately you remembered Robin's presence not 10 feet next to you. You quickly glanced at her, saw that she was watching, and in a panic you kicked Steve in the shin. Just as immediately, you regretted that decision as you felt an affliction on your own shin.

Steve let out a yelp as he stumbled and squat down to hold his leg. Robin laughed while you pulled your own leg up into the chair, holding it as if it were casual and not because you were doctoring pain as well.

"Does that count as another 'you suck'?" Robin asks joyfully through giggles. You can't help but smile back at her.

"I'll let you judge it," You reply, pretending to be neutral. In reality, the butterflies hadn't calmed down in your tummy and you knew you'd be thinking about that interaction for the rest of the night.

Damn him.

Robin whirled around to put yet another tally under 'you suck'. When she did you looked at Steve to see him standing in recovery shaking his pained leg as he did so.

"Screw you guys, I'm going on break," He announced. Before he walked through the door, though, you caught him glancing back at you, a boyish glint in his eye.

No really, damn him.

As soon as he was gone, Robin whirled back around to you and squinted her eyes. "I saw that, you know."

Shin still aching, you rubbed it mindlessly. "Saw what?"

She rolled her eyes and walked closer, leaning down with her palms on the table. "That split second look on your face that said 'Whatever you want, Stevie!'" She mimicked in a high pitched mockery. "It was pretty gross."

"Woah, okay," You croaked, trying to ignore her knowing smirk, "That's- That's not what happened, okay?"

"Oh please, your cheeks are still as red as those strawberries," She tutted. "Not the first time that's happened either, you know. I've seen you blush plenty because of him."

All you could do is fight the heat on your face and shake your head in disbelief, trying to play it off as not a big deal.

But it was a big deal.

Nobody knew of your rather new acknowledgement of your crush on Steve. And of all the people you'd want knowing about your secret crush, Robin was VERY low on the list. Sure, in the short time working with her she had become a pretty nice work friend. You even hung out with her and Steve a few times after work every once in a while. But in the short time you'd gotten to know her, you learned one thing for sure: She was absolutely ass at keeping secrets.

Alas, that thought slipped your mind before what you said next.

"Rob, just drop it, it's not like I'd have a chance anyway," You muttered under your breath, standing from your seat to go back out to the front.

Your co-worker cut you off, jumping between you and the door. "Hold on, what? You actually do-....." You gave her a warning with your eyes. "Oh, I knew it!"

"Shut up, shut up," You whisper yelled, now realizing your mistake. "Look, just act like I said nothing, okay? He can't know- He shouldn't know."

Robin snaked her head back in shock. "You kidding me? Why? You see how badly he wants a date, right?"

"You see the kinds of girls he asks on dates, right?" You countered.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but none of them are remotely interested. He's going for all the wrong girls. You on the other hand-"

"Rob, Rob, listen," You hands grabbed hers in a hopeful grasp, "I need you to do everything in your power to keep this all to yourself, okay? He's my closest friend and I don't want anything screwing that up right now."

Robin could see the desperation in your eyes and she sighed, a small pout on her lips. "That's what you really want?"

You nodded fervently, hoping to wrap up this conversation before Steve returned.

She sighed again, this time overdramatically, and stomped her foot on the ground like a child. "Fine. But I'm making a new tally board for you. It'll just be on a piece of paper in my pocket." She smiled proudly.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

Working at Scoops with Steve was the worst possible thing you could have done. For one, you had to stand there every day and watch him flirt with every girl in the vicinity. Every girl except you, that is. Unfortunately, your feelings had done nothing but grow, making each shift with Steve heaven and hell at the same time. You didn't think it could get any worse.

And then it did.

Because now you were trapped under the mall in a secret Russian base, tied up and locked in a room with Robin.

Yeah, working at Scoops was a mistake.

"Why did they separate us?" You asked, voice trembling as you stared at the locked metal door in front of you. "Why would they need Steve?"

Robin looked up from trying to chew through her bindings on her wrist, sweat shining on her forehead. "I don't… I don't know, maybe to sort this out?"

You turned to her, a hopeless manner about you as you lifted your own bound wrists. "This doesn't look like harmless sorting out, Rob."

"We can at least hope, right? I mean… I mean Steve's charismatic or whatever, he can tell them that us getting here was a mistake and that we just work at the mall and… Yeah, he can do that. He's good at talking, I mean he talks all the time. They'll just…. just take us back to the surface and-" Robin rambled, pacing circles around you like a toy car on a full battery.

"I just don't have a good feeling about thi-" You were cut off by an invisible punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of you and causing you to double over slightly.

Shit.

Robin was immediately at your side. "Woah, hey, hey, what's wrong?... It's okay. It's okay we'll get out of here-" She continued on, her panicked voice becoming like white noise in the background.

Another searing pain, this time square on the nose, then again in the gut. You let out a groan, both in pain and realization.

What the hell were they doing to Steve?

You inhaled carefully, putting your bound hands up to your face in agony.

"Shit, please, tell me what's wrong?" Robin's worried voice faded back in as she grasped at one of your shoulders.

You shook your head as you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling another blow to the face. "Steve," You choked out, tears brimming your eyes.

"What about Steve?"

You looked up to her in terror. "They're hurting him- agh!" Another punch, this one you felt deep in your ribs and made your legs give out, falling to the floor.

Robin followed, kneeling next to you. "How do you know that? What's going on?"

You panted, trying not to wheeze as it became painful to breathe properly. Another punch, right in the eye socket pushed a whimper out of you as the tears started to fall.

"Does this have to do with that weird portal thing or something?"

You shook your head helplessly, knowing just as much about that weird experiment as she did. Somehow Steve and Dustin knew about it, but that fact was far in the back of your mind now.

Another hit to the already bruised nose exploded over your face, making you struggle to hold in an audible cry.

Robin was now also on the brink of tears. "Please, please, give me something, I don't know what to do!"

With all your will you looked up at her to answer in shallow breaths. "I can feel- feel it. They're torturing him."

She put her hand up to your face scrunched up in pain. "How do you know?"

"I've always-... augh," You groaned again, letting your head drop out of her grasp as you tried controlling your reactions. It was no use. Your head was beginning to hurt as a whole. Eventually you laid down on the cold floor, helpless to any attack Steve was receiving in the other room. Helpless to stop it.

In your state, Robin didn't dare ask any more questions. Things were more complicated than she realized. Although she didn't fully understand, she knew that whatever was happening was bad. Very bad. And she was as helpless to stop it as you.

The time went by so slowly, and the punches never stopped. They kept hitting the same spots over and over and over again. If anything, they got harder and more frequent. One after the next. Occasionally you were given a break, but those breaks were experienced in tense anticipation for the inevitable next hit.

The tears were uncontrollable, slowly soaking the concrete below you. Movement hurt. Breathing hurt. Being awake hurt. Steve hurt.

What if they killed him? Would you feel that too?

The thought only spurred on the flow of tears.

The entire time, Robin was knelt beside you, a hand on your arm stroking, attempting any way possible to comfort you through your obvious torment. Both of you sat in helplessness together.

Then, finally, your tense body went limp and your whimpers halted.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fic #season 3 steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington reader insert #stranger things reader insert

2K notes · View notes

headkiss · 9 months

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become the sun

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: figuring out how to move on from life in hawkins, steve takes a trip to the beach, where he meets you, who becomes his tour guide and maybe more than that.

word count: 14.5k

warnings: fluff, teeny bit of angst, strangers to friends to lovers, and some kisses!!!

a/n: hiiii i am so excited to finally have beach steve done for u guys!!! it’s inspired by true blue by boygenius (if u couldn’t tell by the title)!!! i put a lot into this one and i hope u like it <3

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The beach is an interesting place. It changes with the seasons, the population shrinking as the leaves fade from green to brown.

There’s the crowds that come through from the months of June to August, the people that occupy summer homes, the tourists stopping by, the sand stuck to skin, the coconut smell of sunscreen. It’s when everything is bright, saturated with sunlight and people.

And then, there’s winter. The cooler weather driving away the summertime residents, turning things into a quiet town where the locals all know each other. Snow falling on the beach in January, hands tucked into jacket pockets.

For Steve, it was exactly what he needed. A getaway, room to grow, something away from Hawkins where he felt stuck, still.

For you, the beach is home.

You’ve lived in True Beach your entire life, in one of its classic blue houses with white trimming and accents. You’ve watched the town grow, watched people come and go with the seasons.

The town sits on the east coast, tucked away and—when it isn’t in the heat of summer—small.

You’ve been working at the cafe for years, floating between positions. Baking in the back, ringing people through, cleaning tables. Mornings are spent in the cafe, then, when you’re off, you’re trying to soak up whatever summer has to offer.

Today, you’re heading out the door with your swimsuit on under a sundress, tote bag on your shoulder.

“Have a good one, sweetie!” Macy, your boss (more like a mother figure and friend by now) calls from the counter as the bell above the door jingles with your exit.

“Bye, Macy!”

The heat hits you as soon as you step out the door, your eyes squinting in the sun as you try to fish your sunglasses from your bag.

Your walk to the shore is easy, the steps nothing but muscle memory by now. You cross main street, head towards the path worn into the sand by foot traffic, over the small dunes until the sound of waves crashing onto sand hits your ears. It’s mixed with laughter, conversation, the sound of kids playing.

It’s pure summer.

Towel laid out, you settle in a spot a bit further from the shoreline, enough so that there isn’t anyone else sitting in close proximity to you.

Soon enough, you’ve got your dress pulled off and tossed into your bag, a layer of sunscreen applied, and a book in your hand. You’re laying on your stomach, propped on your elbows, ankles crossed. You’re so wrapped up in the words in front of you and the heat of the sun on your back that you don’t notice the boy setting his things nearby and jogging towards the water. Not until he comes back.

A droplet of water splashes your page, and you look to the side to find the culprit. Your heart stutters at what you see: a boy shaking out his wet hair the way a dog does, all clumsy and cute.

You’ve never seen him before. This boy with brown hair falling over his forehead, eyes crinkling in the sunlight, freckles in a constellation across his skin, a sunburn kissing the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. He’s pretty. You’re glad your sunglasses can hide the way your eyes trail down to his chest, the smattering of hair there, the sand that sticks to his damp skin.

In this part of True Beach, you know pretty much everyone. The locals, the people who stay for the summers, but not him. You’d remember him if you did.

“Good swim?” You speak up.

Steve’s head lifts, his eyes finding you easily, laying on your tummy, sun setting a glow across your skin. He scans you, the curve of your back, the book in your hands. You’re the first person who’s spoken to him so far in True Beach, and for a second, he thinks he might’ve dreamt it.

“Yeah,” he says. He wants to say more, ask your name, something, but the words seem stuck. “It’s beautiful here.”

“First time here?” You push yourself up to sit, book set on your towel, your hands propped behind you.

“First time anywhere, really.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, flickering across your face.

“I hope it’s a good one, then.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, pushing it from his face, he slings his towel over his shoulder, “I do, too.”

With that, the boy picks up his bag and heads off, and you can’t help but watch him leave, the freckles that dot his back, the muscles that sit there, too. You hope that you’ll see him again.

You hope that maybe, maybe this summer will be different than the rest.

Steve’s staying in a condo down by the beach. A white building with scratched paint and faded accents of greens, yellows, and blues. He’s on the ground floor, his small patio a step away from the sand. Coral Condos, it’s called.

He’d found True Beach on a whim, staring at a map and waiting until something jumped out at him. This town did.

For Steve, Hawkins was becoming too much. A reminder of everything that’s ever happened to him, of things he doesn’t know he’ll ever accomplish. His friends were all moving on, moving away, and he was just there.

First it was Nancy and Jonathan going out of state for college, then it was Eddie moving to Indianapolis for his music. What hit him the hardest was when Robin was off to school, too. When he was working shifts in Family Video alone, with his thoughts and the hum of the TV.

He needed to get out, away from the house that served as a reminder of the absence of his parents. He needed the room to change, to let himself be known as who he is now and nobody else.

So he’s here, spending his summer in True Beach to try and figure things out.

Steve’s been worried about his decision, wondering if it was too much, if he was doing the right thing. Robin had reassured him plenty, but after being in a single town for pretty much his entire life, this trip seems bigger.

Then, you spoke a couple of words to him on the beach, and he thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Even with big sunglasses covering your eyes, there was a kindness there, the beauty of someone not having any preconceived notions about him. Here, King Steve doesn’t exist.

Not to mention that you spoke to him, sunlight bouncing off your skin, lips moving around your words in a way that caught him.

His walk back to his condo is full of replaying your short conversation, the small smile that had spread over your face. Why the hell didn’t he ask your name?

Steve hopes to see you again, to feel the way he did when you talked to him. Like a person, someone worth speaking to, someone without a reputation that follows him despite being long gone, someone he wants to be.

Yeah, he really hopes to see you again.

Soon enough, you’re back at the cafe, working your morning shift and glancing up every time the bell above the door jingles. You’d never admit it, not even to yourself, but you’re looking for someone specific. Looking for the boy from the beach.

It’s odd, the little spark of hope you get whenever the door opens. You don’t even know his name.

Instead of facing this strange pull you feel towards a total stranger, you try to focus on work. Your customer service smile, making coffees, bagging sweets. You’ve been doing it long enough that it’s all subconscious, a routine that’s easy to fall into.

Then, only an hour before your shift is meant to end, the boy walks in, hair messy on top of his head.

Unsure if he even remembers you, you try to act natural. “Good morning!”

Steve follows the sound of your voice, finding you at the counter by the register, welcoming smile on your face. He recognizes you right away. It’s the same face he’d seen on the beach, the one he’s thought about since.

“Hi,” he says, stepping up to the counter across from you. He glances down to your name tag, pinned to the strap of your canvas apron. It suits you, he thinks. “Makes more sense than ‘girl from the beach.’”

“Sorry?”

“Your name, I mean.” He shifts a little on his feet. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Steve. A piece of him you won’t have to wonder about anymore. Today, Steve’s wearing a linen button up shirt, the first couple buttons undone, his chest hair peeking out.

“Well hi, Steve. Boy from the beach,” you smile softly, a shared memory floating between you. “What can I get for you?”

If he’s being honest, Steve had sort of forgotten what he came into the cafe for once he saw you standing behind the counter. He looks at the menu on the wall behind you, skimming over the words.

“Um,” he looks back at you, his indecisiveness written in a small wince on his face, “have any drink recommendations?”

“Coming right up.”

You turn to make his drink, the coffee machine whirring behind you, the sound of things brewing a constant background to your day. You pour some ice into a cup, and soon enough you’ve got his drink mixed and poured, too.

You grab a cup sleeve, scrawling a small message on it before you can overthink it, and then slip it onto the cup, turning back to the counter where Steve is waiting, hands tucked into his pockets.

He watched you bounce between things in the cafe, hands moving like it’s second nature to you.

“Here you go,” you say, setting the cup onto the counter.

“Thanks.” Steve picks it up, dropping a bill onto the counter with his other hand.

Again, he finds himself wanting to say more to you, to stretch out the conversation. Instead, he heads to a table in the corner of the cafe and takes a sip of what you’ve made him. Of course it’s good, he thinks. You don’t look like someone who would mess these things up.

Right when he’s about to set the cup back down, he notices the sharpie scrawled onto the sleeve, lettering angled and curved to fit in the empty space. It could only be your writing, the words sweet and simple.

‘Welcome to True Beach :)’

Steve smiles at his cup, at the hint of something friendly, something kind, in a place so new to him.

He really should talk to you more this time, he knows it. Because he regretted not doing it once and he doesn’t want to do it again. So, when he finishes his drink, he walks up to the counter all over again.

“You’re back,” you say, though he never really left. He’d been in the cafe the whole time, your eyes always finding their way back to him.

“Yeah,” he sets his now empty cup down on the counter gently, “can I get another?”

“You liked it?” You smile a little, feeling a zip of success, of some sort of accomplishment.

“I mean, it’s refill worthy, so,” he shrugs like the answer is obvious, shoulder to his sunburnt cheek.

You make him another, the same way you made the first, his eyes on your back, your hands working on autopilot. The recipes make themselves by now, written into your memory.

You still can't really believe Steve’s here, that the boy from the beach walked in when you’d been thinking about him since you spoke. You wonder if it’s some sort of sign, hands of fate pushing him into the cafe.

Either way, you decide to take a chance.

“So,” you hand him his drink, and he hands you another bill and refuses the change, “if you wanted to meet some people, there’s this bonfire tonight at the beach. You should come.”

“Really?” He checks, because there’s no way you’d invite him somewhere after such small conversations, right?

“Yeah, really,” I want you there, you’d say if you had the courage. “You can get to know a bit about True Beach. Being a newbie and all.”

So far in his stay, Steve hasn’t been inclined to seek things out. He’s been alright keeping to himself, going to bed early enough. Now, he’s thinking that it’d be good to get out, to meet people, to explore the way he told himself he would here.

Maybe to see you again, too.

“I’d like that,” he nods, a shy smile on his lips. “You’ll be there?”

In all honesty, you’ve yet to attend a bonfire this summer. You’ve never been a huge fan of them, really. But if he’s going, so will you.

“I’ll be there,” you confirm. “It’s down by the docks. Sort of hard to miss.”

“I’ll see you later then, girl from the beach.”

“Later,” you smile, and a mirrored expression spreads on Steve’s face. “Boy from the beach.”

He turns and leaves, the bell above the door ringing yet again with his exit. For once, you spend what remains of your shift eager for the day to pass, for it to be nighttime with a fire crackling nearby and the boy from the beach as company.

Steve doesn’t know what it is about you, doesn’t know how or why, but somehow, you’ve made him feel like he’s in the right place. Like leaving Hawkins wasn’t this big huge mistake the way he’d worried it would be.

He needed to get out, he knows that, and he’s done it, but he’s yet to move on. Maybe tonight could be a step towards that, a step towards new friends (though he’ll always have those from Hawkins), a new environment, a new beginning.

He thinks about it all on his walk back to the condo. His past, what could be his future. He doesn’t know what it looks like, and maybe he never will, but he knows that the sun warming his skin and the salt in the air is something he could get used to. Something he could love, if he could just let himself.

And when Steve eventually throws away his cafe cup, he makes sure to keep the sleeve with your handwriting on it. A souvenir as good as any.

Maybe a sign, too. A promise of some sort.

Your hands are covered by the sleeves of your sweater as you walk over to the bonfire, bright orange casting a glow over the sand, the warmth of the flames hitting you as you draw nearer.

It’s early enough that hints of the sun remain in the sky, a stripe of orange on the horizon, fading into blue as you look up. It’s a really nice night, the stars and moon bright above you, the breeze still warm enough to wear shorts. Even so, you can’t help but be nervous.

You haven’t been to one of the bonfires in a long time, and though you see these people often in town, it’s never like this. Never all at once.

Plus, there’s Steve. You hadn’t told him a time, but he said he’d come and despite barely knowing him, he seems like the kind of guy who means what he says. The anticipation is what gets you. What you’ll say when you see him, how to act.

You’ve never wanted to get to know someone the way you do with him, the instant sense that he’s a person you’d like to have in your life, and that’s intimidating in itself.

“Look who decided to show up!” It’s Steph’s voice, your longtime friend, forever neighbor.

“Hey,” you give her a small smile, happy to see her and apologetic all at once. “Sorry it’s been so long.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she tosses an arm around your neck, “come on!”

Steph guides you to the group standing around the fire, people you’ve known forever, people who cheer at your appearance (though the enthusiasm is hugely influenced by their various states of being drunk).

It’s Mason who works at the record store, Vic that busses tables in the diner like no other. It’s everyone who makes True Beach what it is and you’re glad to be a part of it, even if your mind continues to drift elsewhere.

You keep looking towards the path that leads to the beach, hoping to see a silhouette coming through, the boy from the beach. Steve.

It’s unusual, the way you wait for him to show up. It’s been a long, long time since you’ve had this sort of eagerness, the excitement of meeting someone new, of feeling this pull.

Steph seems to notice your eyes drifting again during your conversation, and she’s quick to ask, “what’s over there?”

“Huh?” You look back at her face, and you don’t exactly love the accusing look on her face.

“You keep looking at the path,” then, she gasps, like she’s discovered something amazing, “are you waiting for someone?”

“What? No.” You shake your head when she nudges her shoulder into yours. “Just thought I saw something.”

“Sure you did, babe.”

All you can do is shake your head again. She’s already gotten the idea in her head, you won’t be getting it out. Besides, even if you won’t say so, she is right, after all.

The night continues on this way, your eyes constantly flicking towards the path, thinking that the person arriving is Steve. It never is, though.

Your hope is shrinking smaller and smaller as the time goes by, thirty minutes, an hour, another hour. Still no sign of him. You’ve only just met, and yet, the disappointment strikes you hard, a sinking in your gut, a thump in your chest. You really thought he’d come.

You shouldn’t be surprised, you think. Or upset, really. You’re a total stranger inviting him to a beach at night, you’ve probably scared him off, freaked him out.

Eventually, you find yourself sitting in the sand by yourself, everyone wrapped up in conversations, laughter ringing behind you.

You stare at the waves, the steady rise and crash onto the shore. You stare and stare and stare until you figure it’s too late now, Steve’s not coming, and you should just go.

So, with an embarrassing lump in your throat, you stand and dust off the back of your shorts and head towards the path, glad that nobody notices your departure, that you're able to force away the tears that have no business being there in the first place.

Where he is, Steve blinks his eyes open gradually, waking up to a dark condo and a kink in his neck. After a day in the sun, he’d accidentally crashed on the couch, falling asleep with the hum of the TV in the background.

At first, he’s just confused, disoriented as he checks the clock and sees the time. 12:26 AM. Then, it hits him. The bonfire, the ‘see you later,’ you.

Fuck.

He scrambles to get up, shoving on his shoes and heading out the door without a thought about how he must look right now. His hair a total mess from being pushed against the couch cushions, his eyes bleary from sleep. That’s not what matters.

Steve’s basically sprinting to the beach, running until he sees the docks, sees the fire still burning nearby. There are still people, too. Maybe I can save this, he thinks, maybe she’s here and I’ll explain and we’ll just laugh about it.

You’re the first person he’s really spoken to here, the first one to make him feel like True Beach was a good idea, and he’d be a fucking idiot to lose the whisper of a friendship before it’s gotten the chance to form. A total fucking idiot.

Breathing heavily from his rush to get here, Steve walks over to the first person he sees, a girl with a can in her hand, her hair in braids that have become loose with time.

“Hey, sorry,” he says, getting her attention.

Steph’s the one he’s addressing, though he has no idea who she is. She turns towards him and smiles politely, because she’s got no idea who he is, either.

“Hm?” She hums.

Steve says your name, the name that’s been in his head since he’d read it on your apron. “Have you seen her?”

“Oh! You’re the one she must’ve been waiting for.” Steph looks around, her eyebrows scrunching, “ummm, she was here. Guess she left.”

You’re the one she must’ve been waiting for, she was here, guess she left.

Steve’s stomach drops. You’d been waiting for him, and he’d practically stood you up like an asshole. Sure, he was asleep and it was unintentional, but you don’t know that, and he feels awful. The things you must’ve been thinking, how you felt.

He feels like the biggest jerk ever.

Steve forces a smile, though he’s sure it’s an awful facade. “Okay, thanks anyway.”

With that, he turns away from Steph and heads back towards the path, his head down, shoulders a little slumped because this isn’t how things were supposed to go.

He was supposed to show up, to talk to you and learn more than your name or where you work, to plant the seed of something between you. Friendship, maybe. More, if he’d been lucky.

“Hey,” Steph calls before Steve gets too far. He turns around. “She’s got a shift tomorrow. Seven AM.”

He nods, and heads off again. He’ll fix this. Somehow, he’s going to fix this and it’ll work. It has to, he thinks, because he needs to know you.

Steve barely sleeps that night. For one, there was the nap that was long enough, and then—of course—there’s you. He spent hours laying on his back, watching the ceiling fan whirl above him, trying to figure out what to say.

In the end, he scraps every idea he has and decides to wing it the best he can. Not a great plan, but it’s all he has, so it’ll have to be enough.

Your friend said you started at seven, so Steve shows up at the cafe at exactly 7:02 AM. He's got mismatched socks on his feet, sandals on top of those. He’s sure his eyes are puffy, too, the lack of sleep evident on his face.

Despite that, he opens the cafe door, the bell ringing above his head. He spots you right away, leaning over a table, wiping it down with the towel in your hand, your walkman clipped onto the pocket of your apron, headphones on your head.

There’s someone else at the counter this time, an older woman with crinkles by her eyes and a kind smile. But, Steve came here to see you, so he heads over to the table you’re cleaning.

You can’t hear him coming, you only catch him walking over in your peripheral, his hands shoved in his pockets. You straighten, leaving the towel on the table and pausing your music, pushing your headphones down to rest around your neck.

“Steve. Hi.” You’re sure the surprise is in your voice. You really hadn’t been expecting to see him again.

“I’m so sorry about last night,” is what he says, needing to get it out, unsure of how else to start.

He surprises you a second time, his words are written on his face, the sleepiness in his eyes, the tiny frown on his mouth, the worried scrunch in his brows. It’s impossible to deny his sincerity.

“Oh.” You twist your fingers in the wire of your headphones. “It’s totally fine, you don’t have to apologize to me.”

“No, I do.” Steve pulls his hands from his pockets, and they move as he speaks, like he can’t help it. “Listen, it’s gonna sound made up, but I swear to you, it’s not. I fell asleep.”

“Steve-”

“I did. I got back from the beach and I fell asleep. As soon as I woke up I went to the bonfire, but you’d already left. I’m sorry for making you wait like that.”

You were never angry or upset with him to begin with. It was more towards yourself, the disappointment. You’d built up an expectation of him, of the night, in your head, and it’s your own fault. Still, the explanation has your chest feeling lighter.

“It’s okay, Steve. I mean, I’m a total stranger inviting you to this thing. It’s weird.”

“It’s not! It’s not weird, I promise.” He’s quiet for a second, then, his voice softer than before, he says, “I really did wanna go.”

You’re not sure what it is that gets you, maybe the way his brown eyes seem to melt a little, or the way his voice slows with the last few words, like he really wants you to hear them, but either way, any lingering negativity of the night before seems to fade away.

“You didn’t miss much, really.” You lean your hands behind you on the table. “Just a bunch of people getting drunk and slipping around in the sand.”

“I’m still sorry I didn’t go. I told you I would.”

“Steve, seriously, it’s okay.”

“Thanks for, you know, letting me explain.”

“Stop worrying about it, ‘kay? We’re good.”

Steve wonders if there’s a reason this place jumped out at him when he’d read the name. If some sort of divine intervention led him to True Beach. Because he’d found you here, and though you’ve only spoken a couple of times, he knows that people like you are rare. The sort of kindness that feels refreshing, the easiness of being around you.

He wants more of it, wants to know if maybe there’s a reason he feels like he was meant to meet you.

“I do want to know True Beach,” he says, “being a newbie and all.”

Your words from the day before coming from him make you smile. The thought that he’d remembered what you said well enough to repeat it back. Not everyone listens like that.

“I could show you around, if you wanted? You know, the best spots, the good food.”

“You’d do that?”

“Yeah! It’s an excuse for me to do more than just be lazy on the beach. Plus, It’d be fun.”

He smiles, this time it’s not hidden or pushed back, it’s a beam of light, sunshine peeking out from behind a cloud. “I’ll take you up on it, then.”

You smile, too. “I’m off at one, if you wanna meet back here?”

“Yeah, yes, that’s great. I’ll be here.”

Steven turns to go, but you call out, “don’t fall asleep this time!”

He faces you again, heads towards the front counter saying, “maybe I should get a coffee. Just to be safe.”

You shake your head with a grin, one that stays on your face even when you turn away and continue to wipe down the tables. Not even 8 o’clock in the morning and it feels like a good day.

Macy’s the one who served Steve his coffee this time, and once he leaves, the cafe now mostly empty, she walks over and leans a hip against the table, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyebrows raised at you.

“So, who was that?”

“His name is Steve.”

“Steve, hm? He’s a cutie.”

“Macy! He’s only here for the summer. And we only just met, alright? It’s nothing.”

Somehow, her eyebrows go even higher, the look on her face one you always get when she knows something. Or, when she thinks she knows something.

“Okay, okay. But I saw your smile just now.” She pokes your cheek, “I know you, sweetie. That wasn’t nothing.”

“I’m just gonna show him around. He’s new here, that’s it, I swear.”

She holds her hands up, “fine, but I will be saying ‘I told you so’ if that changes.”

“I’d expect nothing less, Macy.”

Macy likes to try and play matchmaker with you often, but her tone is usually much more joking than it is now. Though it’s still light, still teasing, it’s different. You wonder if maybe she was seeing something you couldn’t, something you didn’t want to see.

You don’t know this boy, not really. You know he has a way of saying things that make them feel true, that he has the softest eyes you’ve ever seen, that he’s able to pull smiles from you without even trying.

No, you don’t know him, but maybe you could. Starting today.

This time, Steve doesn’t leave you wondering. He shows up five minutes before your shift is set to end, and Macy, noticing him walking into the cafe, leans over to you, “looks like your boy is back, sweetie. Go ahead and get out of here.”

You shake your head and let it slide, knowing that she’ll believe whatever she wants no matter how much you fight her on it. You lean your head on her shoulder long enough to say: “thanks, Mace.”

Then, you’re heading out, tugging the bow on the back of your apron loose and slipping it over your head to hang it up on its hook on your way to the back room where you grab your bag. You pause at the mirror by the employee cubbies, smoothing back some baby hairs and brushing stray coffee grinds from your cheeks.

Steve stands to the side of the entrance, somehow looking more sun kissed than he’d been this morning, and he waves when he spots you walking towards him. “My tour guide.”

“That would be me.” There’s a small smile on your face already. There always seems to be one when you talk to him. “You ready to go?”

He moves to open the door, gesturing with his free hand, “lead the way.”

The summer heat hits you as soon as you walk through the door, the sun shining on the side of your face. You twist your head away from the sun and towards Steve, who’s fallen into step beside you, his strides matching yours.

“I thought we’d stay downtown, show you the shops and stuff.” Steve looks at you as you speak, even with the sun making him squint. “Sound okay?”

“Sounds perfect. I trust you.”

He steps around you, tugging your wrist gently to place you on the inside of the sidewalk, and himself closest to the road. It’s a small thing, one that could easily be meaningless, but your heart stutters the slightest bit, your steps slowing before forcing yourself to keep up with him.

The walk is short, filled with small talk that doesn’t feel forced or exhausting. It feels natural, the kind of ‘how are you?’ you get from a friend rather than a stranger. And you suppose he isn’t a stranger, you know just enough for him to be more than that.

Your hands brush between you, knuckles skimming against each other just once. A spark zipping up your arm, the same electricity traveling in his, too.

You ignore it (try to, at least), and before long, you’re at your first destination of the day. You stop walking, turning towards the awning of the store, “here we are.”

Steve stops with you, his eyes set on your face as you gesture towards the building. He looks away when you catch him, looking up at the sign hung above the door, a wave that fades into music notes, the words ‘Splash Records’ layered on top of that.

Now, it’s you who’s looking at his face, looking for a reaction. “It’s a gem, I swear.”

He turns to you again, his eyes, lighter in the sun, set on yours, “like I said, I trust you.”

“Okay,” you open the door for him this time, light blue paint flaking onto your hand when you twist the knob, “after you.”

Walking in, the record store is packed, but not in a way that feels stuffy. It’s full, music streaming through the store’s speakers, surrounding the space. There’s crates of records set on tables in the middle, shelves of them lining the walls.

Then, straight ahead from the door at the back, there’s the counter, the register sitting atop it, a record spinning behind it.

You wave to the boy standing there, “hey, Mason!”

Mason waves back, smiling at you, “hey! Need help finding anything?”

“We’re only browsing. Thanks, though.”

“No problem, cafe. You let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

The local workers in True Beach have developed this habit of calling each other by their jobs, hence why you’re ‘cafe.’ It’s silly, and you’re all well aware of everyone’s actual names, but it started and stuck ever since.

“Sure will, record store.”

Steve, for some reason, has this dull, punched-in-the-gut kind of feeling. He shouldn’t, he really, really shouldn't, but he does. Seeing the boy smile at you, seeing you share an inside joke.

And then, you’re wrapping a hand around his wrist so softly and leading him into the store and the ache is gone, replaced with this warmth. Warmth that blooms and grows into his chest.

“So, Steve, beach boy, what kind of music do you like?”

Just like that, the ache is forgotten.

“Take a guess,” he says.

You walk towards one of the crates at the front of a table, the letter A attached to the front. He follows, watches you flick through the records.

“Hmmm,” you stop and tug one out, facing Steve and holding up ABBA’s Arrival. “This one.”

“Come on!” He laughs, mostly because you’re right, and you seem to know it.

“You’re totally a ‘Dancing Queen’ kind of guy.”

He shrugs, a closed-mouth smile with mischief laced behind it, and turns to a different crate. And then, ever so softly, he starts humming the tune to ‘Dancing Queen.’

You smack his arm lightly, jaw dropped, soon spreading into a grin of victory. “I knew it!”

You continue on with your guesses, Steve following behind you with a sort of brightness in his eyes. He feels like you’re showing him more with each minute you spend together, your personality shining through with every smile or laugh he’s lucky enough to get from you.

The next album you pull is by Wham! and Steve huffs a laugh and shakes his head, “you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m right again, aren’t I?”

“No comment.”

“I’m so good at this.”

By the end of it, you’ve added a-ha and Tears for Fears to the pile, and though Steve will end up buying every single one, he looks at the stack in your arms and sighs.

“Have you been stalking me?” He asks, because you’ve yet to be wrong with your selections.

“Yeah, right. You wish,” you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, fumbling a little with the records in your hands. “I am just really, really skilled. Plus, you just give off the energy for it.”

“You aren’t making me seem very manly, you know?”

“Who said anything about manly?” Your eyes are kind, Steve thinks they sort of sparkle when you say, “good music is good music. Who cares what it says about you?”

He’d been joking, of course he had, because you’ve been right all along and he sort of stopped worrying about music taste when he started hanging out with Robin, who’s favorite genre is musical soundtracks, and Eddie, who never stopped liking what he did no matter what Hawkins thought of him.

And then, he thinks, Eddie would like you. Would like the way you spoke about music.

Steve’s not sure what to say, not sure how to thank you without sounding like a total idiot. But he doesn’t have to, because you speak before he can, like you’d known he needed you to. “Anyways, you ready for our next destination?”

“I’ll go wherever you go.” The words are soft, and they feel like so much more than simple when he says them. They aren’t more, you know that, but they sound like they could be. “You’re the tour guide.”

Steve buys the records, and with the bag in his hand, he follows you out the door and walks beside you—again, closest to the street—without question.

A couple of stops later (one being the sunglasses shop, where you and Steve handed each other pairs to try on, giggling behind hands, posing into the mirror of the other person’s lenses) you’re leading Steve into the diner on main. It’s classic, vinyl seating, checkered floors, the light blue of the shallow parts of the ocean serving as the pop of color in the place.

You grab a booth, Steve sliding in across from you. It’s by the window, a street of sandals smacking the ground, towels slung over shoulders, and beach bags covered in sand on the other side of it.

It doesn’t take long before a familiar face strolls up to your table, and you give her a little wave as she walks up, “hey, Vic! Busy today?”

“I’ve seen worse, cafe.” Her eyes flick over to Steve, her eyebrows raising when she looks at you again. “And who’s your friend?”

“This is Steve, he’s staying for the summer and roped me into being his tour guide.”

“Hey,” he says, an awkward, but always kind, smile on his face.

“Well, welcome to True Beach.” Vic pulls out her notepad and pen from her pocket. “What can I get you?”

You both order, and Steve listens to you chat with Vic some more, the interest you show in what she tells you, the way you pay attention to her story about a strange customer. He thinks about the way you’ve greeted every shop employee so far today by name, the way they all greet you with the same recognition.

He thinks about how nice it must be to be a part of something like that, a steady unit in a town that sees different faces constantly.

“Sorry about that,” you say to Steve after Vic walks away. “She likes to tell stories.”

“Don’t be. I was eavesdropping, anyway.”

You laugh, quick and sunny, and Steve soaks it up, letting it warm him up. He’s sort of captivated by you, the way you move, the things you say, the way he feels around you. It’s something totally new to him, no matter his history with girls. This is on its own, special and rare, he thinks. Or, maybe, he wishes.

“So, Steve…”

He fills in the blank. “Harrington.”

“Steve Harrington. What brings you to True Beach?”

“Ummm. Vacation?” Steve asks rather than says, because he really doesn’t have an answer. At least, not one that he thinks makes any sense. Self-discovery? Escape? Didn’t want to be the last of his friends stuck in Hawkins?

All of the above, maybe.

“No!” Your foot nudges his under the table. “I mean, like, really. What’s your story? What led you right here?”

Steve likes the way you say what you mean, how you don’t seem to be afraid to ask something more personal. The list of things he likes about you seems to keep growing.

“I grew up in Hawkins, Indiana. Small town, been there my whole life. I was sort of an ass in high school. Hanging around with the wrong people, you know?” He scratches at the hair at the base of his neck, nervous. Less so when he sees your gentle smile and nod. “Anyway, then I met better people. My best friend, Robin, this dork Eddie, and these kids that I care about a lot. Sort of became their babysitter—minus the pay—and, yeah.”

You notice the way he lightens up when he talks about these people, the whisper of a smile on his face as he does. It makes you smile, too, knowing that he has people like that. People that can ease him with a simple memory.

“My parents were never really around. Work trips all the time, stuff like that, but it forced me to learn a lot. I worked at this movie rental place for a few years, and then all my friends were moving on, going to school, taking control of their lives. I figured I’d do the same.”

“That’s why you’re here?”

“Hm?”

“To move on. Take control of your life.”

“I guess so. I wanted to go somewhere. I’ve never ventured out-of-state until now. Saw the town on a map and that was it.”

“I think that’s really cool.” You reach across the table and squeeze Steve’s hand, his eyes flicking up from his lap when you do. “It takes a lot of bravery to come somewhere new, especially alone.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Steve’s quick to brush things off. He didn’t grow up being called things like brave, and though the expression on your face is clearly honest, it’s hard to accept a compliment. Doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t expand a little, though. Like an extra puff of air blown into a balloon.

“Don’t fight me on this, Steve Harrington.”

He’s not sure he could fight you on most things. He’d rather let you win.

“Alright, fine. What’s your story, then?”

“You sure you wanna hear it? It’s pretty boring.”

I want to know everything about you, Steve thinks. He won’t say it, though, won’t risk freaking you out when this has only just begun.

“You got mine. It’s only fair.”

It’s been a long time since you’ve met someone new, since you’ve had to do the whole getting to know each other thing. Usually, it’s awkward for you, the stress of good impressions. Now, with him, it’s easier for some reason. It feels like you’ve known him far longer than a few days. There’s a familiarity there.

“Okay, okay. My family moved here when I was like five, so it’s pretty much all I remember. We’ve lived in the same house since, blue shutters and chipped paint, but I love it. It’s home.”

You don’t feel very different from how you feel now when you think of home. Comfortable, at ease, like you’re not meant to be anywhere else.

Steve Harrington. You’re glad he chose True Beach.

“I started working at the cafe when I was sixteen, I think,” you continue. “Macy—that’s my boss, but she’s more like family—she gave me the job and I just never left. She wants me to take over one day.”

“Will you take over?”

“I love that place. I don’t really see myself anywhere else,” you shrug, hands fiddling with the napkin in front of you. It’s something not everyone approves of, like you’re wasting away there. “I know it’s not all that impressive.”

“Hey, if you love it, isn’t that what matters?” The toe of his shoe pushes yours gently, your eyes catching his. “Not everybody gets to say they love what they do. And you do. I think that’s impressive.”

“Really?”

“Really. I think it’s great, honey.”

Steve lets the name slip, but when he sees the bashful smile on your face, the way you duck down a little, he can’t bring himself to feel bad about it.

Honey.

If you didn’t have a crush already, you’re absolutely done for now.

Day by day, you and Steve grow closer, and you’re now far more comfortable calling each other a friend rather than a stranger.

You show him a little bit more of the town each day, and a little bit more of yourself, too. He does the same, and you’ve found that Steve is an easy person to talk to, to trust. It’s a friendship born over rented bicycles and hands-free riding down a hill, brunch at the cafe during your breaks, and Steve lending you his baseball cap when you forget your own.

It feels completely natural, like you’ve known him a lifetime rather than a week. It feels like something you didn’t know had been missing.

Steve doesn’t feel much different. There’s a little bit of guilt in him, because he’s never felt this way while in Hawkins; like he belonged. He loves his friends, and that had nothing to do with them, but it sat with him nonetheless. A weight on his chest.

The weight seems to be forgotten when he’s with you, when you’re smiling at him as you show him your home like you’re welcoming him, like he could stay. It’s when he’s alone that he thinks about what this could mean, what he should do.

Right now, though, he isn’t alone, so there’s no heaviness there.

You’re taking him to a ‘super great surprise location,’ as you’d called it, your sandals leaving patterns in the sand, the sun bouncing off your bare shoulders. Steve walks the slightest bit behind you, not far enough that you can’t talk to each other, but enough so that you’re definitely leading the way.

Steve’s honestly too distracted to pick up on where you’re headed. The curve of your spine, the way your hair seems to change color under the sun, the pattern of your strides. It isn’t until you tilt your head and point upwards that he catches on.

He lets his head fall back to match yours, looking up at the lighthouse that sits on a rocky part of the beach.

“The lighthouse?” He checks, “Isn’t that, like, against the rules?”

“Aw, Stevie, since when do you care about the rules?” That’s something you’ve been doing lately, calling him Stevie. He likes it more than he should. “Besides, I won’t let us get caught. Don’t you trust me?”

You’re facing him now, walking backwards, a smile full of mischief on your face. Steve can’t help but be honest, “yeah, I trust you.”

“Well then, let’s get climbing, Harrington.”

You don’t have to tell him again. Steve follows you without another question, like it’s really that simple. He follows you up and up the lighthouse until you’ve made it to the top, out on the metal balcony that overlooks the beach, the water.

You sit down, legs dangling over the edge, arms leaning on the bottom part of the railing. And though Steves not fearless by any means, he sits beside you, position mirroring yours.

“You bring all your tourists up here?” Steve teases, his knee brushing yours.

Vulnerability is scary, and you don’t usually share much about yourself with people, preferring to keep your cards close, but things are different with Steve. It’s scary and incredible all at once. He’s different.

So, you reply seriously, your voice quieter, “I’ve actually never brought anyone up here.”

Steve looks away from the view to look at you, your confession unexpected but welcomed. Like he’s thought since he’d met you, he really wants to know you. Every single thing.

“Really?” He asks, gently poking for more.

“Yeah,” you nod, your eyes focused on the way the waves look from up here, the shades of blue. It’s less scary to talk this way, without looking at Steve and his eyes that you just fall into.

“I always come up here alone,” you continue. “To think, mostly. Like, when things feel really big and awful, coming up here and seeing how small everything is helps. I kinda find comfort in the insignificance, you know? Nothing I do will ever really be that big of a deal, and that’s peaceful, I think. Does that make any sense?”

He finds he can’t look away from you right now, the sad—maybe even nervous—twist of your mouth, your hair messy from the wind. He wonders if he should tell you that he doesn’t think you’re insignificant at all. At least not to him.

“It does,” Steve says, blinking away from you and turning to look at the water, too. “I think that’s part of why I came here. It’s nice to be unknown, to not have to worry about every move I make because of how people will react. Things feel a little lighter.”

You nod, looking down at where your legs touch, your feet hanging over the edge of the balcony. You hadn’t meant to get so serious. Tour guides should be fun, right? So, you add, “the view’s nice, too.”

The sun’s setting now, the sky becoming a blend of pinks and oranges, the rays on your skin turning golden. Still, Steve finds himself looking at you again when he says, “yeah, it is.”

You turn your head at his tone, the gentleness of it. Your eyes find his, the brown almost bronze in the sun, the color melting and swirling and you can’t break eye contact. He’s reeled you in like nobody has before, like he’s been on the opposite end of a string that ties you together, and he’s the only one who could pull it.

“I’m really glad you picked True Beach.”

Steve’s gaze flicks to your mouth, then your eyes, and your mouth again. “I am, too, honey.”

Then, you’re closer to each other, your shoulders leaning together, the warmth of his arm pressed against your own.

You aren’t sure who leans in first, and neither is Steve, all you know is his nose nudges yours, and when you tilt your head in response, you’re kissing. First, a tender press of his lips on yours, and that’s all. But it isn’t enough.

Subconsciously, without a thought, you chase his mouth when he pulls away ever so slightly, and it’s all he needs before he’s kissing you again. Before he’s really kissing you.

Steve’s hand finds your cheek, gently tilting your face for him so he can kiss you the way he wants to. He’s not sure what he’d been thinking before this, all he knows is that this feels too good to stop, too good to be the wrong thing to do.

Your hand is hooked in the neckline of his shirt, knuckles brushing his bare skin beneath it, keeping him close. The other rests on the balcony between you, holding you up, letting you lean towards him.

You haven’t been kissed many times, but you know that for it to feel like this is a rare thing, something delicate that you won’t look into just yet. Right now, this is enough. The sparks that seem to fly around you, burning through you.

Even when you do pull away, nothing feels broken. No, Steve simply uses the hand on your cheek to guide your head to his shoulder, and it’s comfortable, your cheek squished against him, his hand grabbing yours from his collar and holding it in his lap.

You stay that way for what could be minutes or hours. As if you’ve been just like this hundreds of times before.

Steve offered—more like decided, really—to walk you home from the lighthouse, the sun sinking lower and lower with every step. You took the long way, sand beneath your feet, breeze growing cooler against your cheeks.

Neither of you have said anything about the kiss, and you haven’t felt the need to. If anything, it feels natural, like this pink haze brought on by the kiss is meant to be there; there’s nothing to be said.

Maybe that’ll change tomorrow, but it’s today and that’s what matters.

At some point during the walk, after knuckles brushing and sparks fizzling between them, Steve had wrapped his pinky around yours, which then turned into holding hands, fingers intertwined, palms pressed together. The warmth of it spread up your arm, a tide rising up and up and up.

It’s dark by the time your house comes into view, weathered paint and blue accents, the porch light glowing warmly in the night. That’s another thing about True Beach: porch lights stay on.

You stop at the end of your driveway, swinging your hands between you. “This is me.”

“Well,” Steve’s fingers flex in yours, his thumb running over your knuckles just once. “Thanks for showing me your spot, honey.”

You look down at your hands, smiling at the way he says it. Honey. Like you’re as sweet as the real thing, like he really believes that.

“Thanks for trusting me to take you there.”

“It was a good one. How you gonna top it next time?”

“I don’t like to reveal my secrets. You know, like a magician.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He gives your hand a squeeze, eyes finding yours, something written behind them that you can’t pick out. “I’ll see you tomorrow, magic tour guide.”

“See you, Steve.”

You’d spoken the entire walk back to yours, but it feels different now. Thicker. The way it did at the top of the lighthouse just before you’d kissed. You squeeze Steve’s hand back before turning to walk up your driveway.

Steve holds onto your hand until he can’t anymore, his arm stretched out ahead of him, yours behind you, only dropping when you’re out of reach. It’s something that has your hearts beating in tandem, like they miss the contact.

When you get onto your porch, the doorknob in your hand, you turn back and wave to Steve again, who lets a smile spread across his face as he waves back. Once inside, you lean against your closed door, head falling back against the wood.

What the hell are you gonna do when summer’s over and he has to go home?

Steve’s thoughts aren’t much different, because somehow, you’ve made this place feel more like home than Hawkins has in a long time. He’s not always worried about things—though he still worries more than he should—and it’s gotta mean something.

He kicks a pebble the whole walk back to the condo, dragging his feet and hoping that walking slower will make his mind move quicker.

It doesn’t really work, and once he’s back in his place for the summer, he figures that he should

probably call the only person who’ll know just what to say to him (with the addition of some jabs).

He grabs the phone from the wall in the living room and dials Robin’s number.

“Hello hello?”

Steve relaxes a little at the sound of her voice, because she’s his best friend in the entire world and he misses her. A lot. Where Hawkins felt heavy, Robin was the one to make things better, but with her and the group away, the weight got to him.

“Hey, Rob.”

“Steven! How’s your trip going?”

“I told you not to call me Steven.”

He actually doesn’t mind it that much, because it’s something only Robin calls him, and as silly as it is, he won’t really stop her.

“Don’t care. Tell me about your summer. Where are you staying again?”

“It’s called True Beach.”

“And?”

Steve can picture Robin waving her hand in the air as she says it.

“It’s actually really nice,” he says. “The beach is beautiful and the weather’s great and there’s a bunch of cute shops on the main street. I met this girl in the cafe and she’s been showing me around.”

“Oh, really? A girl?” She’s probably wiggling her eyebrows now, Steve thinks.

“It’s only friendly, Rob.” He opts out of telling her about the kiss just yet. Maybe because he knows what she’ll say, something about him

having feelings for you. And maybe Robin would be right about that. “But it’s been really fun so far. Went to the record store, this diner, the lighthouse. I got you some presents.”

“Aw, Steven! You shouldn’t have!”

“Don’t act like you don’t want the presents, Buckley.”

“Whatever, Harrington. Have you been taking pictures? And who’s this girl! You can't just gloss over that, dingus.”

“I have some, but my skills don’t really match up to Jonathan’s.” Steve leans his shoulder against the wall where he stands, twisting the phone cord around. “And she’s great, seriously. We’re friends, okay? You’d like her.”

And Steve believes that, because ever since meeting Robin and finding the sort of once in a lifetime friendship with her, he can only see himself around people that she’d like, too.

“I bet I would, Steven.”

“Anyways, how are you? What’s been going on?”

As Robin updates Steve on things—her crush that she’s never spoken to before, what Eddie said he was working on when she spoke to him last, what she had for breakfast—he listens, letting himself get distracted from his thoughts of you.

Not that the thoughts are bad in any way, but they’re confusing, they’re something he hadn’t been prepared for when he’d decided to take this trip. He finds that even though he spends a lot of his days with you, he’s still thinking about you once he’s alone.

Steve’s not quite sure how to face that, but for now, he won’t. He’ll listen to Robin, talk to her until they’re both too tired to continue. He’ll enjoy having you as his tour guide and his friend.

Whatever else you could become, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he doesn’t want you to be a stranger again.

Tomorrow has come and you haven’t been able to get Steve out of your head.

First it was the stuff that had you shoving your face into your pillow last night. The way his hand felt on your cheek when he kissed you, the way it felt in yours when he walked you home, the way he held on as long as he could when you parted ways.

Now, it’s the kind of what-ifs that have you worrying about what will happen when you see him again today. Will he act like nothing happened, will he want to talk about it, will he hold your hand again?

You’re excited to see him, it’s hard not to be when you like him so much, but you’re nervous, too. Probably for the same reason.

All you can do is go about your shift and hope that it distracts you enough to ease the small twist in your gut, the unknowns eating at you just a bit. If Macy notices something’s bothering you (which she does) she doesn’t say anything, opting to let you ride it out because when Macy believes something’s right, it usually is.

She feels that way about you and Steve.

Steve, who’s been tossing around in his bed all morning trying to sleep in and avoid thinking too hard. So far, no luck. Instead, he’s been wondering how to go about today with you. Because what he wants is something he’s afraid is too far out of reach, something he’s scared of, and he doesn’t know if it even remotely lines up with what you want.

Eventually, it gets too late for him to keep twisting himself up in the sheets, so he gets up and gets himself ready. Steve chooses not to drink coffee this morning, feeling jittery enough as it is.

His walk to the cafe is different today, because even though he’s still excited as ever to spend time with you, there’s a little weight in his chest that makes him nervous. He decides to walk quickly, whether it’s because he’s eager to see you or to get whatever will happen over with, he’s not so sure.

He doesn’t want you to be a stranger again.

Eventually, with a big breath in, Steve tugs the cafe door open. He sees Macy before he sees you, knowing it’s her because of the name tag.

“Hi there,” she says, her smile crinkling her eyes a little. “Steve, right?”

He’s surprised that she knows his name. And then, the idea hits him like a small punch, his mind getting hopeful with it; you must’ve talked to her about him. You care enough to talk about him with Macy, who you’d said is like family to you.

“Yeah,” he says, walking the rest of the shirt way to the counter where she stands. “And you’re Macy?”

“That’s me!” She seems to notice the way Steve’s eyes search the small cafe, and she smiles as she speaks, “she’s in the back. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

It’s not even a minute later that you’re walking out from the back and towards Steve, tote bag slung over your shoulder, sunglasses on top of your head.

“My guide,” he says as you meet him by the counter. “What’s on the agenda today?”

“You’ll see soon enough.” You fish your car keys from your bag, and they jingle in your hand when you find them. “Ready to go?”

“Sure am.”

As you and Steve head towards the door you hear Macy call, “bye, sweetie! Have fun!”

You turn to face her and send her a wave. In return, you get a wink and an eyebrow raise and you just shake your head. She might be onto something, though.

Soon enough you’re in your car, Steve in the passenger seat, driving out to the lookout because it’s usually quiet this time of day and you want him to see it that way. The waves crashing onto sand below, the endless stretch of sky.

You chat as you drive, and you’ve found that you didn’t need to be so nervous, because he’s Steve and something about him makes everything seem easy, natural. You’ve fallen into the same spot you were yesterday on the walk home, this bubble of pink and sweet and more surrounding you.

Steve asks you about how your shift went, how busy things have been, what you had for breakfast. Simple things that draw you back into simply feeling the glow of being with him. It’s like he soaks up sunshine and spills it out, warm and bright.

When you turn your head to glance at him quickly, you’re stuck on the way the sun hits his face, the freckles that have appeared on his nose from his time spent at the beach. He looks like he belongs here, you think. A boy with summer written all over him.

And when you make it to the lookout, Steve reaches across the center console for your hand, and your fingers lace together just like they had last night. It feels like the softest click of puzzle pieces fitting together, right where they’re supposed to be.

Steve hadn’t been thinking when he did it. It was his hand reaching out on instinct because it wanted to, because it felt empty where it sat in his lap beforehand.

You keep talking for a bit, back and forth and back and forth and all you can think about is how maybe (definitely) this is more than a crush. That maybe you don’t ever want to see him go.

After the lookout you and Steve still have plenty of the day left. You can only look at a view for so long, really, so you decide to head to the beach, which you’ve yet to do, surprisingly.

It’s the main attraction of the town, so you figure you should include it on your tour, even if you know he’s already been. It’s where you met, after all.

You lead him to a spot further down the beach, where crowds dwindle and a line of rocks sort of secludes it from the rest. Of course, it’s not empty. It never is during summer, but it’s as calm as it can get.

A bathing suit is usually hidden under your clothes during the months of May through August, so, with your towels laid out, a cooler that you’d had in your car set in the sand, and bags tossed beside it, you slip your sundress over your head.

Steve watches you pull the fabric up, the hem getting higher and higher until your dress is gone and he’s trying not to stare too hard. Your skin glows with the sun, and he has to tug his own shirt over his head to pull his gaze away. Fabric pulled in front of his eyes to snap him out of it.

Your sunglasses sit on the bridge of your nose, your eyeline hopefully hidden because Steve’s there and you can’t exactly look away. Dusting of chest hair over sun kissed skin, freckles and moles a constellation you’d reach out and trace if you could.

Blinking away, you shift your sights to the ocean, the waves cresting, whitecaps sliding onto the shore. You breathe in the salt air, the breeze warm against your skin.

Soon enough you and Steve are both settled on your towels, light chatter from other groups mingling with the sounds of the waves.

“Boy from the beach,” you say, lulling your head to the side to look at him. “Funny seeing you here.”

“What a coincidence.” Steve likes that you’ve got this thing, something shared between just the two of you. “Girl from the beach.”

“How’re you liking your trip so far?”

“Well, I’ve got this great tour guide. She’s been showing me all the spots,” Steve leans back onto his hands, while you’re laid down fully, peering up at him through your sunglasses. “I think you might know her.”

You grin, butterflies in your stomach. Your hands rest over your tummy, like you’d be able to feel them floating in there. It’s just so easy with him, so natural. You feel like you were always meant to meet each other, it was just a matter of when.

“She sounds familiar,” you play along.

“Yeah. Super kind, works at a cafe, really pretty.”

Really pretty. He’d added it on like a fact, like to him, there’s no questioning that. Your fingertips push against your stomach a little, trying to shoo away the butterflies.

“Pretty, huh?”

Steve’s always thought so, and he didn’t even realize he’d said it until you repeated it back. He doesn’t regret it, though. Because he thinks it every time he looks at you. That you’re pretty.

“Yep. Ringing any bells?”

“I don’t know about that, Steve.”

“I do, honey.”

Your eyes flick between his, his eyes squinted because he’d forgotten his sunglasses, but all you find is that softness that seems to live in the brown of his iris.

He’s looking at your face, at the curve of your mouth and the slope of your nose. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore the way he feels, the way he’s felt. He really fucking likes you.

You breathe in deep and turn your head to face the sky, nervous under his gaze, unsure of how to read things. He’s leaving at the end of summer, and you’ll be here. What if that’ll be all you ever see of him? His couple of months here, and then, the end.

The moment seems to pass, Steve changing the subject to something about a new music release he wondered if you’d listened to.

The feelings linger, though.

Worries shoved down and stomach flutters warded away (mostly), you and Steve talk like friends, which you’d take over strangers any day. It hasn’t been too long, but it’s been long enough that you know each other, that you can talk or be quiet and have it be comfortable.

Eventually, with sunbeams warming your skin and your early shift weighing on you, your eyes grow heavy and you're lulled to sleep by the sound of Steve's voice and the sea.

He’d been telling you a story, something about the first time he’d gone to see Eddie play at the Hideout and how surprised he’d been. When he’s done, he waits for a reply, only to be met with silence.

Peeking over at you, Steve notices your head rolled to the side, your chest rising and falling with steady breaths. As delicately as possible, he reaches over and lifts your sunglasses to find your eyes shut, and he realizes you’ve fallen asleep.

There’s a smile worming its way onto Steve’s face as he pushes your glasses back into place. A smile brought on by how cute he thinks you look right now, pout on your lips and hair messy from the wind.

A smile turning just a little bit lovesick because you feel comfortable enough with him to be asleep right now.

It’s only twenty minutes before you’re blinking your eyes open again, shifting and breathing in deep as you wake up. The breeze has died down, the heat having your forehead a little damp, your body uncomfortably warm.

“Morning, sleepy.”

You groan and turn towards Steve, sitting up and stretching your arms out in front of you before responding. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep.”

“Don’t apologize. You’ve been working and dragging me around every day. I’d be tired, too.” He’d pulled the cooler to serve as a backrest while you were asleep, you notice. “Good nap, though?”

“Yeah. Guess I needed it.”

You’re feeling warm, almost too warm, so you fan yourself with your hands. Steve notices. “You feel okay?”

“Just warm. Probably shouldn’t have slept in the sun.” You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, which you’re sure is unappealing, but Steve only seems concerned for you, never judgemental.

He twists to open the cooler set behind him, digging out a can that’d been buried in the ice, condensation dripping from it as he lifts it out and shuts the cooler. Steve scooches himself closer to you on the sand.

“Here,” he uses his free hand to move your hair out of the way, pressing the can to the back of your neck with the other.

Your head tips backwards, the cold can pressed to your heated skin immediately cooling you down, easing your discomfort. Still, you feel warm inside—this time, in a good way—because Steves attentive and so, so sweet.

“Thank you, Stevie. That feels really nice. Maybe you should be a nurse.”

“If nursing equipment was a cooler, maybe,” he chuckles. “That feel better?”

“Mhm. Much.” You’re feeling plenty awake now. Plenty alive. “You know what would feel even better, though?”

“Tell me.”

“A swim.”

Then, you’re pushing yourself up from the ground, sand sticking to your palms, and running towards the water. Tossing the can aside, Steve’s quick to

follow, chasing your laugh, grains kicked up behind his heels.

You’re waist deep in the water by the time he catches up, water shifting around him, warmed by sun rays and refreshing all at once. You twist around to face him, walking yourself backwards into the water slowly, Steve following you the way he seems to do.

He thinks he might go anywhere if you were leading the way.

Eventually, you stop, the water up to your chest now. Steve stands close, within reach, waves licking at his skin. You tilt your head at him, “hi.”

“Hi.” Steve runs his fingertips across the water, but his eyes are on you, how the sun is a halo of light behind you.

“Next on my tour: the ocean,” you hold your arms out, like you’re introducing the water to him. “What do you think?”

“Beats the lake back in Hawkins by a long shot.” Lover’s Lake is fun, but it’s nothing special. Mucky waters and grass rather than sand. But this, here, it feels special. “It’s great.”

“Yay! So, since it’s great, you won’t mind if I do this?”

You’re pushing water at him before he can respond, splashing him and giggling when he faces you, jaw dropped.

“You did not.”

“Figured you wouldn’t mind, since the water’s so nice and everything.” You shrug, “sooo much better than at home-”

You’re cut off by Steve’s retaliation. He’s gentler than you were with it, but you’re sprayed with water all the same and you can’t help but laugh a little.

“Oh, you’re on, Stevie.”

And then, you’re splashing him, and trying to swim away, and he’s chasing you and splashing you back, a mess of laughs and taunts, a play fight that’s free and fun and you don’t remember the last time you’ve felt this way.

It’s not long before Steve catches you, though, long limbs pushing him through the waves until his arms are wrapping themselves around your waist to tug you back to him.

“Gotcha,” he says, his head bent to speak into your ear.

You’re not laughing anymore, your heartbeat picking up in your chest, Steve’s arms seeping warmth into your skin and your stomach. You spin in his grip to face him, but his arms don’t move. “How’re you so fast?”

“I was co-captain of the swim team. We even won trophies and shit.”

“That was an unfair advantage.”

Steve’s hands spread wide, palms on your waist, thumbs dragging over the skin above your bikini bottoms. He sees the way your chest moves with your breaths, quickened and heavy. He’s not playing anymore. Not since he’d gotten the feeling of your skin beneath his hands.

“So, what do I win?”

“A free tour guide?”

“I already have that, honey.”

It’s hit you how close he’s gotten, his nose so close to brushing against yours. It’s like it’d been at the lighthouse, a shift, breaths mingling between your faces, a pull.

“Okay,” you say. You’re not sure if you’d been responding to what he’d said or if you’re answering a question he hasn’t asked out loud.

His eyes search yours, and when you lift your chin for him, he can’t help himself. Steve kisses you for the second time, his fingers digging little indents into your skin, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

You don’t think you could even if you wanted to. Instead, your hands find his shoulders, and Steve groans so softly into your mouth. Just from your hands on him.

It grows quicker, a little more heated, your mouths moving, heads tilting, and somehow you end up with your legs around Steve’s waist, one of his arms holding you to him, the opposite hand splayed between your shoulder blades.

The current seems to move with you both, waves hitting your shoulders, dancing around you. They push your bodies closer.

Steve can’t believe he’s kissing you again, he can’t believe he’s got you wrapped around him and your lips on his and that it’s real. That it feels so much like a wave rolling over and crashing, breaking something down, creating room for something more.

He forgets that you’re in public, that there are people around—though, not too many, thanks to the spot you’d chosen—and that time doesn’t simply stop when he kisses you. Because it sort of feels like it does.

The world goes quiet, and all he feels is you, you, you.

This time, when you pull away, after however long has passed, your hands slide from his shoulders down to his arms. You smile at him, almost bashful in a way, a tease still lingering behind it, “was that an okay prize?”

Steve’s got no idea how he’ll go back to Hawkins after this.

It’s been hours since Steve got back to the condo, and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. You’d stayed on the beach until the sun set, and Steve walked you home, and he held your hand just like he did after the lighthouse.

And again, he finds himself reaching for the phone and dialing Robin’s number.

“Robin speaking,” her voice sounds after a couple rings.

“Hey, it’s Steve.”

“Steven! Hi! How’s it going over in beach land?”

He doesn’t even bother with the use of ‘Steven,’ because he’s just relieved to hear her voice, to know that he’ll always have her, to talk to his best friend.

“Yeah, it’s good.” He leans his shoulder against the wall, his free hand scratching lightly at his arm. “Really good. How are you?”

“You worried about me?”

“Rob.” I always worry, is what he means to say. Of course, Robin knows him well enough to know exactly what he means without having to say it.

“I’m good, Steve. Seriously! Except Keith keeps calling me to pick up shifts at Family Video and I don’t even work there anymore!” She huffs, and Steve laughs. “Don’t giggle, dingus. This is a serious problem.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll get bored eventually,” he says. “Why do you think Keith has had like five jobs in the last three years?”

“Whatever. Tell me about what you’ve been up to. Oh! How’s the girl?”

If she were here right now, Steve thinks Robin would be shaking his shoulders, demanding every detail. He’d held off on talking about you fully last time, but now, he needs advice and though Robin technically doesn’t have any experience to help him, she’s the only one he wants to tell right now.

“She’s incredible, Rob. I really like her, think you would, too.”

“Mhm, what happened to ‘it’s just friendly,’ huh?”

“We kissed. Twice, actually.”

“What! Steven, you can’t just drop that on me. What happened? Oh my gosh, is she your girlfriend?”

“Slow down. I’ve only known her for a couple of weeks, okay?” Robin makes a noise on the other end, and Steve can practically see the face she’s making. Something that says ‘whatever.’ “You know the last time I called you? We actually kissed that day, at the lighthouse.”

She gasps, “and you’re only telling me now?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Ugh, just keep talking.”

He shakes his head. Steve doesn’t really know how to put everything into words. How he feels, the way things happened. He tries anyway.

“Then today. We hung out at the beach, and we went for a swim, and we were playing around and then we were kissing. I don’t know. I like her a lot and I’m not really sure what to do. Or how she feels.”

“Okay. Okay, tell me about her. About the beach, too.”

“She’s really nice. Like, she says ‘hi’ to everyone when we go places, and she’s been showing me around after she works all morning.” Steve doesn’t realize that there’s a smile spreading over his face the more he talks about you. “It’s just so easy with her. It feels like I’ve known her for years with how we talk and everything. I don’t know. It sounds stupid.”

“It doesn’t sound stupid, Steve,” Robin’s voice is a little softer, like she wants him to know she means that. “And the beach?”

“It’s so great here. I like the atmosphere, the smell of the ocean in the air all the time and the people and even the condo is nice.”

“Can I say something that might scare you?”

“You’ll say it anyways, won’t you?”

“I will. Here it is: you sound really happy there, Steve. Like, happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.”

His stomach twists, almost guilty that he could be so happy someplace where he’d started fresh. Like he’s betraying Hawkins and all of the good that he’d found there, even when so much was bad.

“I really miss you, Rob. I miss everyone.”

“I miss you, too, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be happier where you are.”

Her words sort of punch him in the chest, air sucked from his lungs, his heart feeling heavy in his chest. Because when he thinks about it, like really thinks about it, Steve is happy here. Happy is a big thing.

“When did you become so wise, Buckley?”

“I’ve always been wise, Harrington.”

His head falls against the wall with a small thump, his thoughts weighing him down a little. Steve really likes it here, and he really likes you, and he misses his best friend. He’s not sure where to go from here.

“What am I gonna do?” Steve’s quiet, but Robin hears him.

“You’re gonna do what’ll make you happy, Steve. For once in your life, be selfish, do something for yourself, not anyone else.” Robin knows Steve better than anybody knows him, and she knows why this is hard for him. “You know I’ll always be here. It doesn’t matter where you are. Besides, True Beach isn’t so far. I’ll visit and annoy the shit out of you. Plus, I need to meet this girl. She’s clearly a good one, if she’s got you like this.”

Because she knows him the best, Robin already knows that what he should do is stay. Stay where he sounds happier than ever, unrestrained in a way he never could be in Hawkins. Stay with you, who’s brought it out of him.

“Love you, Rob.”

“I know. Love you, too, dingus.”

Steve’s eyes are stinging, though he’s not really sure why. Maybe he’s overwhelmed with how quickly things can change, sad that this feels a little bit like a goodbye even though he knows it isn’t, maybe even relieved that Robin’s supportive of him no matter what. Maybe it’s everything all at once.

“What about the presents I got you?” He asks.

“Well, Steven, there’s this thing called postal service, where you can put things in the mail.”

Steve laughs welty, eyes misty, grateful for how easily Robin manages to brighten the mood. For the rest of the conversation, he feels a little lighter.

Now he’s just got to tell you how he feels.

It’s crazy how people can take root into your life, plant themselves there and grow like ivy spreading wide over a house until there’s more green than brick.

Steve Harrington proved that when he’d shown up in True Beach mere weeks ago and dug a spot for himself in your life, in your heart. He came barreling in, a stream of sunlight sneaking through a gap in curtains, and you’ve chased the warmth, basked in it as much as you could.

In so little time, Steve’s become one of your absolute favorite people in the world. A stranger to a friend to something toeing the line of so much more. You’ve kissed twice, and it’s been enough to tell you that your feelings are undeniable. They’ve taken root just as he has, buried deep.

With those feelings, though, has come the painful realization that he’s leaving soon.

Last night, after your kiss, you hadn’t been thinking about what would happen next or what it could mean. No, you were blinded by the day of sunlight that is Steve. You’d forgotten that sooner or later, the sun has to set.

Now, it’s your day off and instead of sleeping in, you’ve found yourself overthinking at the lighthouse.

You’re worried about what will happen when Steve goes home, whether you’ll keep in touch, whether he’ll forget about you, if he’ll ever come back. On top of that, you’re worried about your feelings, how strong they’ve grown in a short time, if he, by any chance, feels the same.

Sat on the balcony, chin resting on your bent knees, staring out at the morning sky, all you do is think.

Steve’s conversation with Robin last night was the push that he needed, the reassurance that he can do this and have everything be okay, that he’s allowed to make this decision for himself. That doesn’t make it any less scary, though.

He decides that he has to tell you as soon as he can, while he’s got the momentum to do it.

It’s still early when he heads to the cafe in hopes of finding you, and while the place is open, there’s nobody inside when he walks in. Well, nobody except Macy.

“Hi there, Steve,” she says, a gentle smile on her face.

“Hi, Macy,” Steve then says your name, and Macy’s smile shifts to knowing and fond. “Is she here?”

“She’s not in today, dear. But I have a good idea of where you’ll find her if she isn’t home.”

“I do, too.” The lighthouse. “Thanks, Macy.”

“And Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m happy for you two.”

Macy speaks like she already knows how this will turn out. For the sake of optimism, Steve chooses to nod in thanks and head out. Macy seems like someone who’s right more often than wrong, and he hopes that it works for him this time.

He heads to the lighthouse right away, because he remembers what you’d said about being up there, how it helped you put things into perspective. Plus, he’s got a feeling. That pull to you guiding him.

While Steve feels good about his decision, hopeful, even, he’s still afraid. You might think this is all too soon, too fast. Worse, you might not even feel the same at all. But then, what if the worst doesn’t happen? What if you want him, too?

Those what ifs are enough to take the chance, he thinks.

Steve finds you at the top of the lighthouse, chin propped on your knees, arms wrapped around your bent legs. “Hey, honey. Want some company?”

You lift your head at the sound of his voice, turning to find him standing in the doorway to the balcony with his hands tucked into his pockets, his hair messy from the wind, eyes still a little puffy from sleep. He really is pretty, and you wouldn’t dream of denying his company. Not even when he’s part of your worries.

“Hi, Steve. Yeah, sure.”

He takes the few steps over to you, crouching to sit next to you, his shoulder touching yours.

“I went to the cafe to find you,” he says.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Then, you weren’t there, so I figured this would be a good place to look.” He nudges you lightly, “and I found you.”

“You did.”

“I wanted to tell you something, if that’s okay?”

If that’s okay, like you’d ever deny him.

“‘Course it is.”

“Okay,” he takes a big breath, because Steve knows there’s no going back after this. He’ll say it and he won’t take it back. “I really fucking like you. I thought we could be friends after we kissed the first time, like a blip, you know? And if you just wanna be friends, that’s okay. I want you in my life, however that looks. But I’d like you to be more than that ‘cause I have pretty big feelings for you.”

Your chest rises and falls quicker, his words making your heart pump faster, because he wants what you want and he’s telling that to you and it feels so good. Too good.

“Really?”

You turn your head towards him, finding him already facing you, your eyes locking like magnets. He’s smiling so softly at you, nerves and sincerity, patience and fondness. You want to kiss him all over again.

“Cross my heart, honey.”

“I really fucking like you, too, Stevie.”

And just like that Steve knows this was the right call, that you’re the right call, because there’s a sweet, closed-mouthed smile on your face that he put there and it’s all he could ever ask for.

He dips forward to kiss you, once, twice, three times. Small pecks before pulling back.

“What’s gonna happen when you leave?” You ask, worrying out loud, eyes searching his.

“About that,” Steve reaches for your hand, weaving your fingers together and giving it a squeeze. “I love it here. A lot. I feel like I could really belong here, and I have this pretty tour guide to thank for that… Um, I was thinking I’d extend my stay.”

You squeeze his hand back, fluttering in your stomach at the relief of him wanting to stay, at the thought that you’d had a part in that.

You think he could really belong here, too. He’s meant for summer and sand and the sun. Meant for lighthouse sunsets and every season by the ocean. He’s summer in a boy.

“Yeah? For how long?”

“However long you’ll have me.”

Steve wonders if now’s a good time to tell you that he’s fallen in love with more than just True Beach.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

thank u so so much for reading!!! if u enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment/reblog and letting me know what you thought! it helps and means so much <3

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

Heyy:)💞could I request something in which reader is a virgin and she’s afraid of her first time and like unsure if she feels ‘ready’ for it but also doesn’t want to come of as prude and the character you’re writing for just comforts her and tells her it’s fine🌞Any character you’re writing for would be fine!!:))) have a great dayyy🫶

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!

cw: smut mdni, oral (fem recieving), virgin reader

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 958 words

Steve’s hands are strong and warm on your waist, dipping lower. You roll your hips against his, and the sound that emerges from him is half-moan, half-laugh. He kisses you dizzy.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at your back pocket.

“Yeah,” you say without thinking.

You trust Steve. You haven’t been dating long, but you can tell he’s a good guy. He has a tendency to act overconfident and then backtrack immediately, which he says he’s working on. He’s genuine when it counts. Nice to you in all the ways that matter.

It’s not until your jeans hit the floor, where Steve’s shirt already lies, that you start to think about the implications of losing those bits of clothing. Whether or not you want them.

Steve grabs big handfuls of your ass, your flesh pudging between his fingers. He flips you over.

You giggle at the suddenness of it, and he drinks in the sound happily, lips curving over yours. You press kiss after kiss after kiss into his mouth, giddy and lost in him. After a while, he dips his head to move his attentions to your neck. Your breaths become gaspy, head tilting sideways to grant him better access as your eyes flutter closed.

You don’t even notice his hand moving until his fingers wiggle under the waistband of your panties.

You go still. Then try to relax again. Try to embrace it. His fingers slide over your folds, already slicked, while his thumb searches for your clit. He finds it, circling tantalizingly. You try to get lost again. It’s not hard. Soon you’re panting, tangling your hand in Steve’s hair as his mouth sponges over your pulse. He slips one thick finger into you, then two. Scissoring.

You try to make your voice sound casual as can be.

“What’re you doing?”

“Opening you up.” The words are mumbled against your skin, matter-of-fact. “M’gonna get you ready, don’t worry.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Whoa, hey,” Steve laughs. “Relax for me. You okay?”

You hesitate, and his fingers still inside you, thumb slowing on your clit.

“Hey.” He sits up, looking down at you. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m not sure if—if I want—”

“Oh, oh my god.” He slips his fingers out, wiping his hand on his sheets. His other hand twitches like it wants to touch your face, but he stops it before it gets there, setting it on the bed beside your head. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume…anything.”

“No, you’re good.” You try to laugh it off. “I’m being dumb. We can keep going.”

You tip your chin upward, kissing him. Steve doesn’t take the cue.

“I don’t want to do anything you don’t want,” he says, sitting up a bit more, putting more distance between you. You lie back on the mattress and fight the urge to cover your face with your hands. “If you don’t feel like it, that’s cool.”

You rub your lips together. They’re still tingling. “It’s not that I don’t feel like it,” you try to explain. “It’s just that I’m not sure…I don’t know if I’m ready.” You cringe. “It feels stupid to say it.”

Steve’s eyebrows twitch together. “Ready for…?”

You give him a deadpan look, and his expression clears.

“Oh. Whoa, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

You shrug. “I didn’t tell you.”

“Yeah…” He seems a bit shell-shocked. “Why did you say we could keep going? Do you want to?”

Your eyes fall thoughtlessly to where Steve’s hand rests just below your navel, your underwear a soppy mess behind it. “I don’t know,” you admit.

Steve nods like he understands, though he still looks confused. “Well, we shouldn’t do anything unless you know for sure.”

You look at him, guilt like concrete clogging your insides. “Really? You don’t think I should just get it over with?”

“What?” His face screws up. “No. Honey,” —He’s never called you that before. You melt a little— “you should want to have sex. If you’re not sure, you’re not sure. That’s fine.” You search in his tone for any hint of sarcasm or bitterness but come up empty. His hand drifts over to your hip, running the length of it. “You’re not asking because you think I want to, are you?”

It’s a silly, hypocritical stab of hurt, but it hurts nonetheless. “You don’t?”

“No, I do,” Steve says hastily. “Obviously I do. Just, that’s not a good enough reason for you to do it. And I don’t want you to get it over with, that’s for sure.”

He says the last bit wryly, glancing away from your face like he’s barely restraining an eye-roll, and you laugh. He looks back at you, grinning. Pleasantly surprised.

“I mean, it wouldn’t really reflect on you if I was getting it over with,” you say, but Steve scoffs.

“Fuck yeah it would. Sex with me should be magical, babe,” he tells you, kissing your chin firmly. “Sparks flying and butterflies and all that. The whole fireworks show.”

“Oh, you’re selling it now.”

“Not,” he does roll his eyes this time, kissing the corner of your mouth, “my intent. You tell me when you feel ready, and then I’ll start advertising, but until then don’t worry about it.” He catches your eye, and his are searching even as he raises his eyebrows playfully. “I can still give you the fireworks show other ways, if you want me to.”

You blink. “Really?”

Steve blinks harder. “Yeah! Jesus, your expectations of me are so low. Give me a little credit.” He presses kisses to your mouth, your chin, trailing down your throat, his blessed hand making its way back towards your heat. “Just sit tight, let me get you warmed up again.”

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multi-fandomfuckboy · 4 months

Text

Stranger Than Fiction

Part 26: Attitude

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 26, Part 27 (Coming Soon)...

AN: Wow, twice in one week. Wild. Hope you guys like it!! Let me know what you think! Word Count: 3,090 Warnings: none

You relish the feeling of the asphalt under your shoes. Lengthening your stride, feeling the pull of your muscles, you set a steady pace. You barely notice the cold after a mile. In a way it’s almost comforting, the frozen air pressing around you biting at your exposed skin, almost like a kiss. The night is dark and peaceful, most people are already asleep at this hour. It swallows you whole, hiding all the parts of yourself you’ve been trying to ignore.

You know you should hate it. After seeing all the evil things that can hide in the dark, you should be terrified. But you’re not. A familiar shiver traces down your spine, like the darkness around you recognizes the darkness in you. A part of it will always live inside you, etched into your very skin, down to the bone. You can feel it with you now. The tingling sensation prickling around your scars, twisting down your back, it’s always there, but in the cold night air its caress feels like an old friend.

You fall into it, the feeling allowing you to drift in and out of thought. The inky blackness pouring into you, filling the space in your mind where confusing and complicated thoughts once dwelled. Thoughts about Billy, about Steve, and Nancy, Jonathan, your mom, Hopper… all those loud thoughts smothered by the blanket of darkness. It’s peaceful here, in this place of no feeling. It would be easy to stay… It always was.

You don’t know how long you walk, instinctively making your way down the street. Your stride is suddenly interrupted when part of your shoe becomes detached, flopping against your heel as you shuffle to a halt. Shaking yourself out of whatever fog you had fallen into, you lean down to inspect your sneaker. You can see in the dark that the back part of the sole on your right shoe has finally given up. The piece of rubber dangles loosely from the rest of the shoe. Prodding the damage gently you’re hardly surprised when another inch peels away from the main shoe.

“Fuck.” You mutter under your breath, trying to press the rubber back into place hoping that maybe it will magically adhere long enough for you to make it home. A light flashes from behind you on the road, the sound of an engine disrupting the silence of the night. In the headlights you are able to see just how distressed your shoe is, illuminating the irreparable damage.

Straightening up, you turn slightly to assess the oncoming car. Its headlights blind you for a moment, you lift your hand to shield your eyes as the car comes closer. You can tell it’s slowing down as it approaches you. Your heart beats a little faster, you try to tell yourself it’s probably nothing, just a concerned Hawkins resident out for a drive… in the middle of the night. You take a step back, off the road, your muscles tensing in preparation, keeping your arm loose at your side, knowing that it will take you 2 seconds to get the knife from your ankle.

The car comes to a stop beside you, the drivers’ window already lowered. You can’t see into the car, your eyes struggling to readjust.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson last time you almost froze to death?” The driver says. Of course. As your eyes focus you can make out Billy’s sharp features, his white teeth flashing as he grins up at you. You can’t stop the upward tilt of your own lips, your stomach twisting at the familiarity of the situation.

“What can I say? My tutor says I’m a slow learner.” You say with a shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. Billy huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes.

“Sounds like a smart guy.” He replies with a smirk. Before you can reply he cuts you off. “If you keep standing there giving me attitude your fingers are going to freeze. Get in the car before I have to drag your ass to the hospital.” You open your mouth to refuse but as you shift your feet you feel the sole of your shoe slide, reminding you of your current predicament. Another mile and you’ll be hopping on one foot.

“Fine.” You agree. If it were another day you would laugh at the surprised look on Billy’s face. In all the times he’s offered to give you a ride, this is one of the first times you’ve actually accepted. “But only because I think my foot would actually get frostbite if I don’t, and I don’t feel like getting a lecture from my mom if I get taken to the hospital.” You explain, walking around the car, limping with the awkward flop of your sole with each step.

Billy reaches over the seat to unlock your door before you get to it, rolling up his window as you climb in. The heat from inside the car washes over you, drawing your attention to how cold your limbs had grown. You hadn’t even noticed. Sliding into the passenger seat, you close your door and buckle your seatbelt.

“Why are you limping?” Billy asks, his eyes searching over you in the dim light of the car before reaching above him to flick on the interior lights. He looks you over from head to toe, searching for any sign of injury. You prop your foot up on your knee, allowing the light to shine down on your busted sneaker.

“Looks like they just finally gave up.” You comment, flicking the dangling piece of rubber. Billy’s expression relaxes slightly, seeing that it’s just your shoe falling apart, not you.

“What are you doing walking out here anyway?” He asks, flicking off the light. “I thought you left with Harrington.” He says, turning away from you to face the road, putting the car into gear. You can see his shoulders tense, despite how calm his voice sounds, the muscle in his jaw fluttering.

“I just drove him home.” You tell him, watching his expression carefully from the corner of your eye as you lean forward pretending to look at your shoe. You wonder why he would be so curious. You know he had seen you leave with Steve so why was he… Suddenly something occurs to you.

“What are You doing here?” You ask pointedly. You hear his hands tightening around the wheel, his gaze locked forward, again that muscle in his jaw ticks.

“I was just in the area.” He says, attempting to keep his tone casual. You know he’s lying. It’s getting too easy to read him these days.

“I saw you at Tinas’.” You tell him. His eyes flicker to you briefly before returning to the road.

“I saw you too.” He says, his voice suddenly hard. Your stomach drops uncomfortably and you look back to your foot. You aren’t sure why you feel like you’ve done something wrong. You grit your teeth together in irritation. You did absolutely nothing wrong. You were just hanging out with Steve, Billy was the one with some girl hanging all over him.

“I thought you would have wanted to stay at the party. You looked pretty… occupied.” You try to keep your voice indifferent but a slight bitterness tinges the edges despite your efforts. You hate the jealous feelings swirling in your gut. You have no claim to Billy. The two of you hardly tolerate each other.

Still, you find it hard to ignore the fact that there is something volatile between you, something wild, almost dangerous. You’ve been trying to stamp out the ember between the two of you since you met, somehow it keeps flickering back to life fanning itself into a flame the closer the two of you get.

“Yea, if I was desperate and bored enough I might have considered it.” Billy says, immediately catching what you're alluding to. Who you’re alluding to. “Girls like that are only fun for a minute, they tend to get a bit clingy if you give them a taste.” He goes on, shooting you a devilish smirk, explaining it to you like it’s the most simple thing in the world. Your face burns at the implication of his words.

“oh.” Is all you can manage, toying with your shoelace hoping the dim lighting hides your undoubtedly flushed cheeks. Billy chuckles lightly, seemingly amused by your lack of response. You should be used to this, he’s always saying things to fluster you, he must get a kick out of it or something. He clears his throat after a beat, keeping his eyes ahead.

“I thought you would have wanted to stay at Harringtons’, sure he wouldn’t have minded.” His tone sounds shockingly similar to how yours had, going for casual but a bitter undertone slipping through. The meaning behind his words is not lost on you.

“We’re friends.” You say, reflexively defensive. Billy scoffs.

“Right.” He says, shaking his head. It’s clear he doesn’t believe you. You cut your eyes to him in a narrowed glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, letting your irritation bleed through. Billy seems unaffected, his shoulders shaking slightly with a humorless laugh.

“Come on, Loca. I know you’re crazy but I didn’t know you were blind too.” He says, his smirk taking on the wolfish aspect you associate with his cruelty. “He hangs around you like a love-sick puppy! He can’t go two seconds without touching you. You’re really going to try and tell me you’re ‘just friends’?” He asks, lifting a brow in disbelief. Your face flushes with anger replacing any sort of embarrassment you would feel at Billy’s description of yours and Steves’ relationship.

“Steve is going through a lot right now.” You respond tensely, meeting his eyes evenly. He turns his eyes back to the road, another dry laugh escaping him, causing you to grit your teeth harder.

“Oh right! I forgot who I was talking to. The saint of Hawkins High, trying to save poor Stevie boy from his broken heart.” Your anger flares in your chest, pulsing against your ribs. Billy didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. He didn’t know Steve, he didn’t know what the two of you had been through together. How much death and darkness you had helped each other through. You would be DEAD without Steve Harrington.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You hiss, struggling to keep your hands from shaking in anger, curling them into fists in your lap. Billy doesn’t miss this, he keeps pushing.

“Trust me, the broken heart routine only lasts until he gets what he wants form you loca.” He tells you harshly. You scoff at that.

“Oh and you’re an expert, right? Had a lot of practice?” You spit back. You think you see hurt flash across his face but only for a moment and he’s back to himself.

“I may not be an expert but I’ve definitely been around the block a few times.” He tells you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as they pull back from his teeth in a knowing grin. “Which is more than you can say if your reaction this afternoon is anything to go off of.” You gap at him, your anger coming to a screeching halt as you try to think of a response.

“I- That- That’s none of your business.” You blurt out. Billy laughs again.

“Oh don’t be embarrassed loca, we all have to start somewhere.” He coos, giving you a look of fake sympathy. “I’m just surprised you’ve made it this long with how Harrington seems to be pawing at you.” You know he’s trying to hurt you. You’re not sure why, but he couldn’t be further from the truth.

“I told you it’s not like that.” You insist, pressing yourself further into your seat, turning your body away from him to face the window. You watch the dark shapes blur past, melting together.

“What’s it like then?” He asks. You know he doesn’t expect a response. Anyone else would have nothing to say to that. But there is a small part of you that needs him to understand. You’re not sure why, but you tell him the truth. Or at least part of it.

“Steve was there when I was attacked last year.” You say calmly. It’s like all the air is sucked out of the car. Billy says nothing. You can feel his eyes on the back of your shoulder, where he knows the top of your scars starts. He’s seen them, he knows how the skin is puckered, still angry and raised along the flesh of your back, you know he’s picturing them. “He’s the one who drove me to the hospital, thinking I was dead. He held my hand when I was in a coma, visited me as much as he could when I woke up, brought me homework, kept me company even when I thought I didn’t want it.” You speak without emotion. These are all facts. It’s who Steve was even before he became one of your closest friends. “He’s been a good friend to me. An amazing friend.” You let yourself smile gently at the thought. “I intend to be the same for him.”

The car gently comes to a stop in front of your house. You turn back to Billy. He’s not smiling now, any trace of the cocky Billy that was teasing you moments ago is gone. Instead he keeps his eyes straight ahead, his knuckle white where they grip the wheel. He is eerily still, his tense shoulders barely rising with each breath. There is a beat of silence. It feels like you’re balancing on a tightrope, one wrong move and Billy will snap.

“Thanks for the ride.” You nearly whisper, unbuckling your seatbelt. You reach to open your door, Billys’ hand on your arm stops you. You turn back to meet his gaze in the dim light of the car, he looks almost angry, his eyes intense as he focuses on your face. You steel your nerves, preparing for whatever hurtful comment he has ready.

“I didn’t know.” He says softly. The contrast between the hard edges of his expression and the gentleness of his tone is extreme. You realize then that the anger in him is for himself. You soften, knowing this is the closest to an apology Billy can give you.

“It’s okay. You know now.” You tell him. His expression only tightens, his hand gentle on your arm tenses slightly. Leaning back you take his hand from your arm, holding it in your lap as you turn towards him fully. “It’s okay Billy. I didn’t tell you to make you feel bad.” You explain, hoping he can see the honesty in your eyes. He searches your face, his expression loosening a bit.

“Why did you tell me?” He asks, keeping his voice low. You hesitate.

Why did you tell him? Your thumb grazes over the knuckles of his hand, feeling the raised bumps of the scars there. Sometimes you forget that he has scars too, each one with their own story.

“Because I wanted you to know.” Is the only explanation you can offer. You’ve felt a connection to Billy from the moment he almost hit you with his car. Somewhere along the way between nearly dying again and living with the mess your life has become, you’ve found yourself drawn closer and closer to this angry boy. You want to tell him the truth, to offer him a part of you so few have access to. There is no explanation for it but you want to know Billy and you want him to know you too.

It must be enough for him because after searching your face a moment longer, his shoulders relax slightly. You fight the urge to lean closer and use your fingers to smooth out the tension in his jaw.

You know what the stubble would feel like, you felt it against your neck earlier today. Your stomach swirls at the memory. You worry that he can see the thoughts dancing through your mind with how his eyes search yours. His hand gently takes one of yours, his thumb lightly swiping over your palm sending a shiver up your arm.

“Come over tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 12.” Billy tells you. It’s not so much an invitation as a demand. Very Billy.

“And if I have plans?” You ask, living your brow in challenge. Billys’ small smirk sends warmth flooding through you.

“Cancel them.” He tells you simply. Before you can reply, Billy cuts you off by bringing your hand to his lips. His breath ghosts over your knuckles as he presses a gentle kiss to the skin. Your hand reflexively tightens in his, the words catching in your throat. Goosebumps explode across your skin and you’re sure your face is so red it’s probably glowing in the dark.

Billy’s light chuckle only adds to the heat gathering low in your stomach.

“So that’s how I get rid of the attitude.” Billy muses, watching you closely. He moves to bring your hand to his lips again, turning it slightly to press another kiss to the inside of your wrist. You can barely hear his words over the sound of blood pounding in your ears. “I would have put my mouth on you a lot sooner if I had known that.” He whispers the words against the sensitive skin of your wrist. Just when you think your heart is going to pound out of your chest, Billys’ teeth gently nip at your arm causing you to let out a small gasp. The sudden noise from you seems to break the spell he must have put on you.

You rip your arm out of his grasp, whipping around in your seat to fumble at the door knob. You nearly fall out of the car when you finally fling the door open, the cold December air sobering you up as you scramble from the vehicle. Billy laughs from the driver’s seat, causing you to glare back at him.

Your only response is to slam the passenger door and turn, striding up your driveway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, loca! 12 o’clock!” Billy yells from the window before he revs his engine so loudly you’re sure you will be getting a call from your neighbors. You roll your eyes, not bothering to watch as his taillights disappear into the night.

AN: Let me know what you guys think!

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spoodrm4n · 2 years

Text

And I Would Do It Again

Parings: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Summary: In season 3, instead of Steve getting beaten by the Russian interrogators, it’s you. Steve and Robin are still drugged so they don’t notice your life threatening injury at first.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of injury, mentions of blood.

Word Count. 3.7K

A/N: I suck at summaries. This fic took me 15 years to write. THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE!!!!!

PART TWO

You weren’t quite sure how you had ended up with your little brother Dustin, your coworker and crush Steve Harrington, and other coworker and best friend Robin Buckley, and Lucas Sinclair’s little sister Erica in a secret underground Russian base beneath Star Court mall– but that’s where you ultimately found yourself. You had been beaten within an inch of your life by some of the Russians trying to get some answers from you. They had gotten nothing out of you, but you had paid the price. The guards had just thrown you into the room they were holding Robin and Steve. Just like that the guards were leaving again, leaving the three of you alone.

You landed on the floor at their feet with a groan, closing your eyes and willing the excruciating headache you had earned away. You opened them slowly as you heard the two giggling above you. You could make out Steve and Robin’s faces even though it seemed like you had lost part of your vision in your left eye from the interrogation.

“You klutz! You’ve always been sooo clumsy!” You furrowed your eyebrows at Robin’s slurred insult and looked up at the two, pushing yourself to sit back on your heels in front of them.

“You have a rainbow… all over your face,” Steve was gasping at you, eyes wide and a goofy, opened mouth smile on his face. You blinked at them.

“What did they give you two?” You were standing up, grimacing at the pain it caused you. You sucked in what little breath you could without jostling your broken ribs and walked over to them, starting on untying them.

“You’re dripping on me, Henderson.” Robin scrunched up her face and you quickly apologized about getting blood on her white socks. You quickly realized after untying them from their chairs and each other that you were missing two other people.

“Where the hell are Erica and Dust-” You were cut off by the door being blown open by your brother and Erica on an industrial cart. You jumped in front of Steve and Robin, shielding them from any debris. “There they are,” you laughed as Dustin and Erica rushed over, concern written all over their faces. Sirens started to sound through the base accompanied by bright, red, flashing lights.

“Shit, Y/N what the hell did they do to you?” Your brother was all over you as you tried to push him away and lead Steve to the cart.

“Plenty, as you can see, but we need to get out of here before they do plenty to someone else!” You urged him as he got the hint to help Robin to the back of the cart with Steve. You hopped in the back with the two as Dustin and Erica got back in the front. “Drive!” You yelled to your brother as you saw guards starting to file into the hall.

“Wooo!” Robin was cheering and you winced at how loud she was. You flinched at the loud sound of gunfire behind you and ducked down, dragging Steve and Robin with you.

“Shit! You two, stay down or so help me god!” You yelled at them both, hands skimming the bed of the back of the cart. You grinned when you felt a small handgun. “It’ll do.” You whispered, checking the ammunition, turning the safety off and cocking the gun. You popped back up from the cover of the cart and aimed at one of the guards running towards you. You fired and hit him in the shoulder, making him collapse and having a couple other guards trip over his body.

“Badass,” you heard Steve whisper in awe behind you. You cocked the gun again and took aim, but before you could pull the trigger again one of the guards had taken a shot and hit you in the side. “Holy shit,” you gasped as you fell back into Steve’s chest on accident and bit the inside of your cheek, swallowing a scream.

“You’re back,” Steve smiled down at you. You shot him an annoyed glare and breathed out, grabbing Steve’s red tie from his Scoops uniform and working to tie it around your wound to slow the bleeding. It had already stained your scoops uniform a bit. “Hey that’s mine!” He whined and you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel bad. You grit your teeth as you finished tying it around your waist to cover your wound and pulled your uniform shirt back down. You breathed out, sagging against Steve but it was short lived as Dustin slammed on the breaks. You flew forward, face first into the back of the cart and groaned. That earned you some giggles from Robin and Steve.

“Come on, Y/N!” Dustin was yelling at you, tugging your arm to get out of the cart and into the elevator.

“Grab Robin, I’ll grab Steve. Erica get in, fast!” You instructed, pulling Steve by his bicep out of the cart and into the elevator, trying your best to ignore the burning pain in your side. Dustin had Robin in front of you. You pushed Steve into the elevator and ducked in yourself, bullets flying over your head. “Woah! Take me to dinner first!” He giggled at you and you rolled your eyes. You flung yourself against the side of the wall as Erica frantically pushed the ‘up’ button and grabbed Steve by the back of his shirt, making him stumble to your side and out of the range of fire. Dustin and Robin were behind Erica. It felt like years before the doors were finally sliding shut and the elevator was shooting up with as much grace as it had falling down.

“Are you okay?” You ran over to Dustin, wrapping him in a hug. You bit back a whimper as he hugged you back. Not only had you just been shot, but you also had been beaten within an inch of your life.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. What about you–” Dustin was cut off by a snort from Robin as Steve hopped onto a pallet dolly and held his arms out as if he were surfing. You ran a hand over your face. What was wrong with these two? Robin jerked the cart and caused Steve to fall over into the corner, Robin cackling like a mad man.

“Wipeout!” She cheered, motioning with her hands to Steve in the corner.

Dustin crouched down to Steve and pried one of Steve’s eyes open, checking his pupils. Steve poked Dustin on the nose with a small ‘boop’.

“His pupils are super dilated.” Dustin spoke, turning to Erica.

“Maybe he’s drugged?” Erica shrugged and you did the same.

“That seems like a fair answer,” you supplied as Dustin turned back to Steve.

“You drugged?” Dustin quirked an eyebrow and Steve almost scoffed.

“How many times dad I don’t do drugs… it’s only marijuana,” Steve booped Dustin’s nose again.

“I’m not sure what answer you were really expecting, Dusty.” You smiled, trying your best to find the humor in the situation. All of you fell on your butts as the elevator came to a screeching halt. Damn Russian elevators. The doors opened to the outside and you got up, helping Steve to his feet and out the doors. You ushered him out of the elevator and he trotted on out, Robin ahead of him and gulping in fresh air. You walked out with Dustin and Erica but froze when you saw more guards at the gate giving your all incredulous looks.

“Shit! Come on! Other way!” You yelled, running and grabbing both Robin and Steve and pulling them back into the mall and slamming the doors closed behind you. You ran in front of the four, guiding them down the back tunnels that connected everything in the mall.

“We’re going to take these two to the theater and me and you,” you motioned to Dustin, “are going to get in touch with Wheeler.” You made your way to the movie theater, remembering all the times you had shown the kids where to go and opened the back door, pushing the four of them through. Dustin led the way into the theater and made Robin and Steve sit down in two empty seats towards the front of the theater.

“You two, stay here. Do not move!” Dustin hissed at the two and it wasn’t long before a man behind the three were shushing Dustin. You walked to the back of the theater to wait for Dustin as he talked to Erica. In the corner of the theater you leaned against the wall, lifting up your shirt to check the state of the gunshot wound on your side. You were met with purple and blue bruises littered all over your torso and the once bright, cherry red of Steve’s tie was now crimson. “Shit,” you muttered, pulling your shirt back down. Dustin finally came bounding up to you, leading the way to a supply closet.

“Mike, this is Dustin. Do you copy?” Dustin kept on trying to get a response from Mike. You were just about to tell him to give up when Mike’s voice crackled through the speaker, static cutting in and out. “Shit! Low battery.” Dustin was fumbling through his bag now and all you could do was lean against the door frame, barely on your feet in the first place. You had your arms wrapped around your torso, trying to find any comfort at all.

“Find anything?” You mumbled as Dustin set his bag down.

“No. I don’t know where my spare batteries went. We’ll just have to go and find them. Let's go grab Steve, Robin, and Erica and get out of here. We have to tell the rest of the party about this.” Dustin shoved everything back into his bag and you opened the door, following him back out into the hallway.

“I’ll wait here. You get them and meet me back out here. I gotta think of how we’re actually going to leave the mall without a car.” Dustin nodded as he went back into the theater and you leaned back against the wall. You squeezed your eyes shut and grit your teeth. You weren’t sure how much longer you could stay standing at this point.

“Not too much longer…” You breathed out, shoulders slumping. You jumped and turned to see Erica and Dustin barging through the doors.

“They’re gone.” Dustin spoke and you felt a bit of your resolve crumble.

“What do you mean they’re gone? You’re kidding me.” Anger rose in your voice but it wasn’t pointed at Erica or Dustin– not even Steve or Robin. Just the shitty situation you all had been put in. “Okay. You and Erica search the bottom level of the mall, I’ll look for them on the second. You find them, you meet me at the front entrance. Be safe,” you patted your little brother on the head and the three of you parted ways, now on a man hunt for your drugged up coworkers.

You exited the theater and climbed the stairs to the upper level of the mall, starting down the left side. “It would be my luck to get trapped in a secret, underground Russian base after a long day of work and get beaten the shit out of, shot, and now on a manhunt for my best friend and crush. Gotta love Henderson luck,” you thought out loud, running a stressed hand through your hair.

You had met Steve one of the first times he had taken your brother over to the Wheeler’s house instead of you. You had questioned him and your brother on your doorstep on why they were suddenly best friends. It was odd to you, but they had made up a solid excuse which you believed for a while. You both started at Scoops and you became closer, sharing late night drives, dinners, movie nights, and taking care of your brother and his friends. You had also developed a crush on Steve in that time and Robin had called you out on your bullshit within the first week of you realizing you were in love with him. It didn’t help when he would always try to flirt with every girl that would come in, leaving you to cringe and seeth in jealousy beside him. He never had any success anyway, Robin’s ‘You Rule / You Suck’ Talley on one of the whiteboards at Scoops had kept track of it.

Little did you know that Steve only did it because he thought he had no chance with you. It’s not like he wanted his attempts to succeed anyway, he only wanted to make you jealous but you were both too thick in the head to say anything to each other. It was driving Robin absolutely insane.

You caught sight of the two a little ways further down, staring up at the glass domed ceiling. You saw them sway on their feet for a second before they were plowing into a nearby bathroom. “That can’t be good,” you muttered before walking as fast as you could towards the two, which wasn’t fast at all considering the state you were in.

You opened the bathroom door and found the two sitting on the floor of the first stall, laughing with each other.

“Oh, Y/N! We were just talking about you,” Robin winked at Steve and you could’ve swore his face turned a bit pink.

“Oh, sorry to interrupt story time, but I’ve been looking for you two everywhere. We gotta go,” you couldn’t help but be a bit annoyed as you wrapped an arm around yourself on instinct. You knew you were about to bite the dust soon and you needed to get out of here.

Steve looked up at you and for the first time it’s like he actually processed the state you were in. “Holy shit, Y/N.” He breathed, standing up and rushing over to you. He held his hands out helplessly, not knowing where to even start as he looked you up and down. ��What the hell did they do? Are you okay?” You looked into his eyes and you could see his pupils were no longer dilated and they didn’t have a haze to them anymore.

“I will be okay as long as we get out of here, Steve.” You were being honest now. “Dustin and Erica are downstairs, we’ll meet up with them there and get out of here.” You explained, shoving his hands away so he wouldn’t find the bullet wound. You were almost out of here. You could do this.

“Yeah, okay, sorry. Let’s go.” He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, worried eyes trained on you as you turned to walk out of the bathroom. They followed you out and you three headed towards the stairs. You started falling behind and you felt yourself get dizzier. You looked down to see that Steve’s tie was no longer holding up and blood was soaking through your shirt. You pressed a hand to it, trying to slow the bleeding.

“Henderson, keep up otherwi– Oh my god,” Robin stuttered out as her eyes trailed down to the crimson seeping through your uniform. You blinked up at her, but she was blurry. In a moment your knees were buckling beneath you and you found yourself on the floor on your back. “Y/N!” Robin’s face appeared above you and you squinted, trying to see her clearly.

“What happened?” Steve was there above you now too. You felt hands pull your shirt up just enough to see the bullet wound. You don’t know when you started crying but you furrowed your eyebrows as you felt hot tears drip down the sides of your face. “Oh god, Henderson.” Steve again.

“Steve,” You breathed, one of your hands reaching out for him. Robin grabbed it instead as Steve undid his tie around your waist and grabbed your own, replacing the soaked through one. “Oh fuck,” you groaned, eyes squeezing shut in pain. All the adrenaline from earlier had dissipated and you were in agony now. You swallowed the bile that threatened to crawl up your throat.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry,” Steve apologized, securing the cloth around your waist. You gripped Robin’s hand impossibly hard; you would have to apologize to her later. “When did you even get shot?”

“Who got shot?” Dustin and Erica were there above you now as well. You hated that Dustin was seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the big sister who was always okay. “Y/N! What the hell happened Steve?” Dustin was crouching down next to Steve now, grabbing your other hand.

“She must’ve gotten hit when we were driving away from those guards. I’m pretty sure I remember them shooting at us. That was like an hour and a half ago, though. How was she even still walking? And she got the shit beat out of her before getting shot? How are you even still alive Y/N, I mean you should definitely be–” Robin was rambling now out of nervousness. You cut her off.

“Robin, stop. You’re rambling again and I’m gonna punch you in the face if you keep talking,” you grit out, sitting up on your elbows. “I’m fine, really.”

“Yeah, no. You’re definitely not. You need help.” Steve scolded, hand on your upper arm supporting you. “I can carry you down. There’s no way you can walk,” Steve hooked an arm under your knees and your shoulders.

“Steve, really it’s fine, I can walk, I just needed a minute.” You felt your face grow hot as he stood up with you in his arms. You looked up at him.

“Y/N, you’re literally an idiot. Just let Steve help you,” Dustin chastised at your stubbornness.

“Absolutely not. There’s no way you’re walking. Don’t be ridiculous,” Steve scolded at the same time as Dustin as he made his way down the stairs with you. You just sighed and rested your forehead on his shoulder, trying to hide the blush on your face. This is not happening right now.

You all got downstairs and to the entrance when you were met with Nancy, Jonathan, Will, Max, Mike, Lucas, and Eleven. Steve set you down carefully on a bench by them as they conversed. Each of the new members stealing a concerned glance at the shape you were in. You felt yourself start to drift off as their voices droned on. You shook your head, willing yourself to stay awake and stood up.

No one had noticed you get up, thankfully. You walked towards the bathrooms that were nearby and stepped up to one of the sinks. You white knuckled the ceramic, chest heaving with exhaustion. You turned on the water and splashed some on your face, trying to wake yourself up and clean the cuts as well.

“What the hell are you doing?” You jumped nearly a foot in the air. You gasped for air and placed a hand over your heart as Steve came up to you and turned the water off.

“I just needed to get up. I was gonna fall asleep. I can’t really do that right now,” You gestured to yourself, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

“You need to sit down, you’re going to hurt yourself more.” He argued, hands on his hips.

“What are you? My mom?” You grew frustrated. You felt like absolute shit, you just wanted to go home, and you were stuck potentially bleeding out in the mall bathroom.

“I’m sorry I just give a shit about your well-being!” Steve yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re doing the bare minimum!” You shouted back, hands going back to gripping the edge of the sink.

“Are you trying to kill yourself, Y/N? Is that what you want? Just sit down and let me take care of you because I can’t– I can’t lose you.” Your heart shattered as his voice broke. You stared at him mouth agape. “I can’t Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You whispered, eyes filling with tears. “It’s just, it’s funny– ya know? I’m going to bleed out in the mall bathroom after escaping from a secret, underground, Russian base in my Scoops Ahoy uniform. It seems so funny.” You were laughing now. You didn’t really know if it was due to blood loss or just because the scenario you were stuck playing was actually hilarious.

“Hey, you’re not gonna die here. You’re not going to die anytime soon, if I have anything to do with it.” Steve stood in front of you now, hands gliding up and down your arms. “And as soon as we get out of here– alive and well– I’m taking you on a date like I should’ve done ages ago.” He smiled at you.

“What? Am I dead?” You were definitely dead. Steve Harrington didn’t want to take you on a date. No way.

“Um no? Not unless we’re both dead and we’re simultaneously dreaming the same death. I like you, Y/N. A lot. I have since you answered the door that first time instead of your smartass little brother.” Steve laughed.

“Hey, Dustin’s my smartass, okay?” You chuckled as he stepped closer to you.

“They really beat the shit out of you, huh?” Steve was close to your face now, drinking in every detail of you. “Why couldn’t they have taken me?” He shook his head, eyes sad as they remarked your injuries.

“I wouldn’t let them. If it had to have been anyone, it would have been me. And I’d do it again as long as you’re okay.” You spoke, eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips every now and again. Steve had always been so pretty. He was handsome, really handsome– sure, but he was also pretty.

“And that’s the only thing I wish I could change about you.” A smile tugged at his lips. He leaned in finally and your lips touched. You breathed out through your nose, melting into him. Your hands stayed planted on the sink, your knees becoming even more weak. His hands trailed up your arms, to your shoulders, and finally to your cheeks. He made sure his hands were just gently placed there, being careful of your injuries.

The both of you pulled apart and you smiled at him. “Steve?”

“Henderson?” He grinned back.

“I think I’m gonna pass out.” You said as you felt your head get lighter and your knees once again give out beneath you. Your vision started to go dark and you felt yourself let go.

“Y/N!” He caught you. You knew he would.

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