#Steve Harrington x f!reader

[violettaskies]

Of Books & Beasts

Prompt: virginity

Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader

Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope

Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right? 

Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking. 

With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.

“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register. 

“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order. 

“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.” 

“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone. 

But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —” 

“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.” 

The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly. 

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?” 

“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.” 

-:-:-:-:-

You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel. 

However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers. 

“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library. 

“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head. 

“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly. 

Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully. 

Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man. 

“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?” 

“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas. 

However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed. 

Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your — 

No. 

This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever. 

“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. 

“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle. 

“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot. 

“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.

Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.” 

“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.” 

The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you. 

“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?” 

You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words. 

What a dream. 

“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket. 

“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly. 

“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.” 

They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry. 

It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little. 

Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice. 

“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body. 

Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever. 

But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least. 

You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve. 

The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.

But you were so wrong. 

Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs. 

Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal. 

Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together. 

-:-:-:-:-

Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant. 

His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before. 

As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too. 

Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process. 

You were about to become the death of him tonight. 

Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him. 

“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”

Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep. 

If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly. 

“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily. 

“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep. 

“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream. 

“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.” 

Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand. 

Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully. 

“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together. 

“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”

The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure. 

“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status. 

“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it. 

“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?” 

Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight. 

“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud

“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions. 

“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered. 

“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all. 

You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”  

“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”

“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment. 

“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice. 

Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them. 

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth. 

“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot. 

“Y-yes, I would be.” 

After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.” 

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.

“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone. 

“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle. 

“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.” 

In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure. 

No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind. 

“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts. 

“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.  

“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him. 

“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly. 

You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him. 

“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts. 

“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.  

“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again. 

“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down. 

All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.” 

The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before. 

“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted. 

“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly. 

“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.

Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever. 

“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours. 

“More, please.” 

“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.” 

“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea. 

Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned. 

“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you. 

“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.

But, you were wrong, so wrong. 

As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise. 

“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him. 

“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter. 

You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.

“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met. 

Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back. 

The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again. 

“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.” 

“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub. 

“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod. 

Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal. 

The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.  

“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper. 

“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder. 

“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve. 

The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples. 

You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good. 

“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin. 

“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.” 

And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms. 

“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently. 

Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high. 

“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down. 

“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips. 

The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips, 

“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses. 

“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now. 

“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?” 

Fuck. 

Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly. 

The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”

“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”

“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 

You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust. 

“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?” 

With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least. 

“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle. 

“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking. 

“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased. 

Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers. 

You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed. 

“Let's use a little, Steve.” 

“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand. 

“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.” 

Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight. 

“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you. 

Just the tip — you said the words before. 

But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out. 

This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of. 

“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in. 

“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size. 

“Feels nice.”  

“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you. 

Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved. 

Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body. 

“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.  

“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you. 

“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you. 

He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.” 

“Need more — need you to go faster.”

“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully. 

“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.

In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely.  “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned. 

“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you. 

Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies. 

“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.” 

“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now. 

You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days. 

One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.  

“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster. 

“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”

“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.

“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.” 

Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”  

“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes. 

“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.  

“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots. 

Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you. 

And he did. 

Good god, he did. 

“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously. 

“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve. 

He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you. 

For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way. 

You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays. 

“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you. 

“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him. 

“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process. 

“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again. 

Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs. 

“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze. 

Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips. 

“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”

You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked. 

“Another day?” 

“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin. 

“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process. 

If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too. 

-:-:-:-:-

#my writing #writing #st fanfic #st fanfiction #fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #LazyGhoulsKinktober2023 #friends to lover #fluff #fluff and smut #best friend!steve #innocent!reader #perv!steve harrington #perv!steve harrington x innocent!reader #steve harrington x f!reader #afab reader #slight somnophilia #just the tip #st #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #my fic #writing prompt #steve harrington #set before season 4

[underoossss]

Head over Heels - S.H

masterlist

pairing: steve harrington x grumpy!f!reader

summary: Steve falls for Robin’s grumpy friend, and he falls hard.

warnings: family problems mention, trust issues, angst, hurt/comfort, no spoilers, (there’s fluff I promise!!!)

grumpy x sunshine trope

an: I know this is the first Steve fic I’ve posted IN FOREVER and I’m sorry! my writer’s block, personal problems, work and health, have all contributed to how long it took me to finish this. But I promise to make it worth your while, this is the same length as babe baby beautiful and I hope it makes you happy. I dedicate this to all my grumpy beloveds out there, who, like me. don’t relate 100% to the sunshine tropes bc sometimes life just freaking sucks. I poured my heart out with this one so, I hope this comforts you and that you like it! Please let me know. 💘

——-

The September breeze pushes Steve’s hair back as he makes his way to the Hawkin’s start-of-autumn fair, a new thing the town is trying out to make the citizens feel more upbeat after all the incidents they’ve experienced. His friends trail after him, Mike and Lucas arguing over something he doesn’t understand, Max listening to Dusting complain about some prank the soccer team played on the Hellfire Club and Robin walking by his side. Everyone shouts food orders over their shoulder, running towards the picnic tables in search for an empty one, and leaving Steve and Robin alone.

His friend is rambling by his side, and Steve nods along to what she’s telling him. She has a new friend this year, met her at homeroom when she was introduced as a new student. A senior like Robin, she got along with her just fine. I talk a lot and she doesn’t, it’s a good fit, I think she really needed a friend that day, Robin says, and now she’s friends with all of us. Steve hums in understanding, switching schools in senior year sounds awful, and he wonders why you chose to do that. He wouldn’t, unless it was for something serious.

“Anyway here she comes!” Robin says excitedly, waving you over. “I can’t believe she actually came, she’s not comfortable with strangers and she doesn’t know you. I thought she’d sit this one out.”

Steve follows Robin’s line of sight and spots you walking towards them in the distance. Baby blue sweater, light washed jeans and black high-top converse, make you stand out from the orange foliage around you. Your face is serious as you get closer, only breaking into a small smile when you wave at Robin and accept her hug. When you step back your face morphs back to neutrality, a slight furrow to your brow as you hide your hands in your back pockets.

Robin says your name and motions towards Steve. “This is Steve, the friend I told you about.” She explains, “He’s our chauffeur, monster-fighter and designated babysitter.”

Steve furrows his brows and looks sideways at Robin before he looks at you and grins. “Hi, nice to meet you.” He offers his hand and you give it one quick shake before pulling back and looking away. Steve wasn’t expecting that reaction, but he guesses what Robin said is true, you don’t like strangers.

“We’re going to get Apple fritters! They have massive ones here and they serve them with big scoops of ice cream.” Robin tells you, glancing down the line as it moves. There are only three people left to order, so the three of you step into line. “Let me check if they’re still doing the ice cream on top.”

With that, Steve is left to wait next to you until Robin is back. You shift from one leg to another, almost nervously and Steve glances at you. Your eyes meet his and then look away, not scared or nervous, just looking away like you can’t be bothered to make conversation with him. Is he intimidating? Steve asks himself or are you just a massive buzzkill that can’t even comment on the weather.

Steve tries again, scratching his cheek. “So, uh, you’re in senior year like Robin?”

You nod, looking down at your feet before looking at him. “Yeah, we have a lot of classes together. I know the guys over there as well.” Your hand lifts to point at Eddie, who’s just arrived at the table, and the kids talking around him.

Huh, so you do speak, Steve notes, but only when prompted. “Cool.” He nods, looking at your face and noticing the way you look away immediately. “So why did you move to Hawkins all of a sudden? I mean senior year, that’s gotta be rough.”

You press your lips together, looking uncomfortable by the question. Steve has the faint idea that he asked the wrong thing. “I should go say hi to everyone.” You say after an awkward cough. “If there’s ice cream can you tell Robin I’m good with cookie dough?”

Steve wordlessly takes the 5 bucks you hand him and sees you rush away from him. In the distance he can see everyone’s faces light up when they spot you, beckoning you over with excited waves, and your reluctant barely there smile as you greet them and sit down. Steve doesn’t get it; he is half mortified and half confused when Robin comes back. How is it that everyone is your friend when you’re so closed off and Steve doesn’t want to say it but… grumpy.

“Are you sure your friend wants to be here?” Steve asks Robin, looking over at you again. You’re sitting with your elbows leaning on the table, listening to everyone talk around you, neutral expression on your face. Bored, even.

“Of course, she does.” Robin is quick to say. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, she doesn’t look too thrilled to be talking to you.” Steve shrugs.

“You clearly don’t know her.” Robin shakes her head. “What did you do?”

“I only asked her about her move to Hawkins.” Steve holds his hands up defensively, then adds. “She said she likes cookie dough ice cream.”  

They pause their conversation to order the fritters and pay, then continue talking while they wait.

“Okay, you shouldn’t have asked that. First of all.” Robin rolls her eyes, “Second of all, she’s friends with all of us.”

Steve huffs in disbelief. “Oh so she likes you? That’s her I like you face.”

“She adores us, you… not really but that’s cause she doesn’t know you.” Robin nods with certainty, then worries her bottom lip. “The move question is just tricky for her.”

Steve moves to say something when their order is called, and she go back to the booth to take the trays laid out in front of them. There are eight apple fritters with ice cream they have to juggle back to the table but manage to fit in their hands and arms.

“Look Steve.” Robin says seriously, lowering her voice after a sigh.” She slows her pace, so they take longer to get back to the table. “She has been through a rough time; I won’t tell you what because it took her a long time to trust me enough to open up.”

“Okay…” Steve nods, going over her words and feeling a soft pang of guilt. He wouldn’t have judged you so harshly if he knew you were struggling with something. He wouldn’t have asked you about you changing towns. “You could’ve told me that before I messed up earlier. Before I was bitchy too.”

“You’re always bitchy.” Robin huffs, then hums when she looks at you sitting in the distance. “She’s wonderful Steve, in her own way, so don’t judge her by the way she presents herself. When she trusts you, you’ll see what I‘m talking about.” She gives him a pointed look.  

Robin’s words echo in his head as they reach the picnic table and hand over the food to their friends. Steve places yours in front of you with a nod to which you say thank you. Now that he knows a little more about you, Steve guesses you were both left with a bad first impression. They aren’t his forte, and it’s not his fault you weren’t the same person with him as you are with Robin. You don’t know each other, of course it was going to be awkward. Steve sees what Robin means as everyone chats and eats; he sees it in the way your eyes soften, and lips smile slightly when Max begins to tell you something. He sees it in the way you lean closer to the redhead and whisper something that has her laughing soon after; you smile as well before turning your attention back to the group. Dustin and Eddie are planning some sort of revenge on the jocks from the soccer team who messed up something in their Hellfire Room.

Steve tries to focus on what they’re saying but he’s too busy looking at you, trying to figure you out. What happened? What’s the thing that you told Robin that made you keep the gentleness you showed to Max tucked away? You feel him looking at you and meet his eyes, it’s a distrustful glance from the way you narrow your eyes at him. Okay, Steve probably stared at you too long. He looks away and hears you sigh before you do too, tuning back into the conversation between the Hellfire club sitting at the other end of the picnic table.

“That’s a horrible plan.” You say plainly, making Max snort and Eddie pause the conversation. The metalhead rolls his eyes –no annoyance, no malice in sight. Steve supposes Eddie knows you like Robin does.

“Why is that, buttercup?” Eddie asks.

“They’ll know it was you, and they’ll beat you up, Munson.” You tell him seriously with an eye roll of your own –Steve doesn’t need to know you to catch the concern in your tone. “Put some laxatives in their protein powders instead.”

Steve lets out a bark of laughter that startles the table; that would be a good prank if he’s being honest. Everyone turns to look at him, including you and Steve clears his throat. “It’s a good idea.” He mumbles rubbing his chin, then meets your eyes briefly to find something like amusement in them.

“No, no, no.” Dustin shakes his head. “It is an objectively good plan, there’s no way they’ll know it’s us.”

“Yeah, we’ll wait for them to leave and then sneak into the locker room.” Eddie adds. “We’ll seal their lockers shut, they can’t change into their gear the next day and their coach yells their ears off.”

“The perfect plan.” Dustin says proudly and looks around the take to see who agrees.

“You sure they won’t be able to trace the prank back to you? See it as immediate revenge for what they did?” Max asks nodding towards you, “She’s right.”

“We’re absolutely sure.” Eddie confirms with a nod, clapping his hands in front of him.

“Can I read the eulogy at your funeral then?” You ask Eddie and Dustin with fake enthusiasm. “I call dibs.”

Steve chuckles and next to him, Robin fakes discontent as she rolls her eyes. “Damn, I wanted to do it.”

You send a smile her way before you clear your throat. “Eddie and Dustin died as they lived.” Your words are solemn as you speak. “With bad plans and too much confidence that they’ll work.”

“They always work.” Eddie says, chuckling at your words with everyone else. You simply raise one eyebrow at him, which Steve must admit is hot, and Eddie shakes his head. “I guess they sort of work.”

“So, laxatives?” Dustin asks Eddie after a minute, a defeated hunch to his shoulders.

“Laxatives.” Eddie and the rest of Hellfire repeats before the table bursts into laughter– including Steve.

His eyes don’t leave you though. You’re not laughing like everyone else but there’s a small smile on your face. It is reserved but softens your face in the loveliest way. It shows him you are enjoying their company despite the otherwise inexpressive look on your face. Steve begins to wonder then… if he wins your trust, the one you have with Robin and Max, will you smile at him the same way you do with them? Bright and beautiful enough to blind him? He guesses it would be worth a shot, getting to know you more, because if he’s being honest, he’s intrigued.

--------

The next time Steve sees you it’s at a party. It’s mid-October and the cold weather turns it up a notch with the cold bite to the air. He wouldn’t have gone to the party in the first place, if he’s being honest, but Robin forced him to go. Everyone will be there she’d said but Steve didn’t know who everyone would be. Only when he arrived at Kevin Rotner’s house did he begin to recognize some familiar faces. Nancy, Johnathan, and Eddie arrive at the same time he does and the five of them walk up the driveway and the small path leading to the front porch. There’s loud chatter inside and a boombox playing to the loudest volume in the dinning room. There are people sitting in the staircase laughing at a joke and more loud conversation coming from the backyard. He navigates the house with his friends until Robin spots you in the kitchen, and Steve doesn’t know why he’s so nervous when he sees you. You greet Robin with a hug and shrug when she tells you something, he can hear. Your face is pretty and serious as you look over Robin’s shoulder, spotting everyone else coming to say hi. Steve sees you take a deep breath before you greet everyone — almost as if you’re preparing yourself for small talk and hugs. He greets you last, more open and approachable than last time, and he’s surprised when you wave. “Hi, Steve.”

Something inside Steve jumps, but he thinks it’s only his own surprise. He’s about to say something, when Robin and Nancy take your hand and drag you away with the promise of some new gossip, they have to tell you.

Steve talks to a few people here and there; mostly the ones he’s kept in touch with after high school. Other than that, he doesn’t know anyone else; he doesn’t know if it’s cause he’s grown up but he’s not really having fun. There are people jumping into the pool despite the weather while those who mind the cold have gathered inside the house. Steve’s mostly avoiding the crowds, where the air is too hot despite winter being near, while keeping an eye out for his friends. Nancy and Jonathan are talking to some people he doesn’t know in the kitchen, Robin is trying not to combust while she talks to her crush —her lab partner in biology— and Eddie is walking around the entire party with his lunchbox.

When Steve sees you again, you are people watching in the living room, eyes trained on a few people in the middle of the room. He moves to stand next to you, and you shift your gaze towards him but say nothing; Steve thinks it means it’s okay if you stand here. Your foot taps to the music –Tears for Fears’ Head Over Heels –and your head moves almost imperceptibly to the music. The two of you are quiet for a while, and it’s not awkward like Steve expected it to be, not after the way he messed up at the fair. He’s pleasantly surprised, and relaxes a bit more next to you, slouching slightly against the wall. One of your arms is crossed over your chest while your other elbow rests on it, a red cup in your hand. The music continues to play and your eyes are still trained on the people talking in the living room, they’re some old Hawkins High students Steve kind of recognizes. There’s Angela and Karen, Bradley and Peter and some other people he doesn’t know the names of. Steve leans his weigh on his right leg, which brings him closer to you.

You don’t move away, simply pass him your red cup. Steve moves to shake his head no and say he’s driving, but you speak up before he does. “It’s only soda.” You say and nod at the cup that Steve takes the cup from you shortly after.

“What’re you watching?” Steve asks.

“The only interesting thing that’s going to happen in this party I think.” You look at him finally and lean closer, Steve isn’t sure you’re aware of it. “I think there’s going to be a fight.”

Your eyes hold amusement in them, like you’re excited for what’s about to happen. The tiniest movement of your mouth has Steve glancing down, you’re grinning, barely; he thinks it’s cute.

Steve’s eyebrows raise, interest spiked, and is about to say something when you turn your head again. Bradley is saying something to Angela, his voice loud and slurred but incomprehensible over the music, and not a second later an equally intoxicated Peter swings a punch at him. Another girl, who Steve doesn’t know, confronts Angela they start arguing with Karen joining the fight. Bradley and Peter fall to the ground, wrestling each other while others try to break the fight.

“Wait isn’t she?” Steve’s mind catches up the everything that happened puts two and two together. He’s pretty Angela is dating Bradley, not Peter.

“Yup.” You say with a shrug, tilting your head. “It was all a matter of time before it happened.” It’s all you say, then chuckle. Steve does too, he can’t help himself at the sound of your own laughter, until the two of you are giggling at the fight in front of you.

The music changes then, to something more upbeat, and Steve’s mind can only think about asking you to dance. Would you say yes? Probably not. Before he can ask you though, you step away from the wall. More people have gathered in the living room to watch the fight, and you decide to make your way to the front door. Do crowds bother you? Steve wonders.

“Wait.” Steve goes after you and closes the door behind him. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” Your back is turned to him. The cream-coloured sweater you wear over your lilac skirt and your black boots look lovely on you, and so does your hair. Steve doesn’t know why but he thinks it frames your face perfectly. There’s also a hint of remaining lip-gloss on your lips that shines with the streetlamp’s light… and Steve, well Steve thinks You’re so pretty.

“It’s cold, don’t tell me you’re going to walk.” Steve speaks again, shaking away his previous thoughts.

You shrug, “I usually do, it’s not too far.”

Steve doesn’t know where you live but he knows Rotner lives far away from almost everyone in Hawkins. Your house is probably far away. “I’ll drive you.”  Steve offers, but you sigh and look away.

“Go back to the party Steve, you can drive Robin home.” You say simply. “I’ll see you around.”

“No, she can go with Nancy.” He follows you until he’s walking next to you. “It’s not safe for you to walk home, come on.”

You sigh again and look up at the sky, annoyed. If you’re annoyed, then he’s too, because you’re making a dumb decision for the sake of being stubborn. And you probably don’t know that he’s stubborn too, so you might have to argue all night about whether this decision is right or not. Why is it so hard for you to accept a ride home? You offered him soda and were talking to him just now; it was nice. More than nice.

“I won't stop asking.” Steve says, crossing his arms and stepping in front of you.

Your eyes meet his in an intense half-glare, and Steve can’t help but think how nice your eyeliner looks on you. It does something to him he hasn’t felt in a while. He feels like he can’t breathe while heat creeps up the back of his neck —it’s October, he shouldn’t feel hot at all. A moment later you roll your eyes, though backing down first, and giving Steve some time to breathe as you turn around.

“Alright.”

Steve can’t help smiling in triumph, knowing he just won, and follows you as you walk towards his car further down the road. Amusement paints his eyes as he looks at you; your lips are pursed, and a huff escapes you.

 “You’re pouting” Steve says, looking at your lips and the annoyed look on your face. It makes him smile. You’re pouting.

“I’m not” You look sideways at him.  

“Oh, you are.”

“Shut up, Harrington.” You say and he laughs, opening the passenger’s door for you.

-------

From then on Steve does his best to increase his charm and be a gentleman. He offers you his help as well as rides home whenever he can, especially when you’re alone. The last thing he wants is for you to think that he’s only being nice when your common friends are around. Steve sees you more often now, not as much as he’d like, he must admit, but enough to know more about you. What you’re okay with sharing, more like.  

As he suspected from the party, you don’t like crowds (they make you nervous), and when Steve asked why you’d changed the topic. You work at the Deli on Main Street, have a younger brother named Chris, and you love coffee. He always sees you drinking one in the morning when he gives both you and Robin a ride to school, and whenever he stops by at the deli for lunch during your shift. Most important of all, Steve is starting to see what Robin meant when she said not to judge a book based on its cover. Because, despite your grumpy exterior, there’s a whole personality hidden underneath.

Steve can tell. There are hints and pieces; from the way you dress, to the music you like, and comic books you read and often exchange with Max. When he takes the time to look, he sees the gentleness with which you do things, and the care with which you treat your friends. He also sees your distrust for what it is: fear. You’re afraid, to let new people in, to get hurt, and Steve doesn’t know why.  

He wishes there was something he could do to fix it, to make you see the glass half full instead of half empty, or to change your sporadic pessimism.  But then he figures, he would be changing you, and that’s not something he wants. If he’s being honest, your friend group (Steve isn’t sure if he’s your friend, officially at least) needed someone with an objective outlook on life to set their heads straight. And if he’s honest with himself, he likes all the things that make you you. He likes your confidence when you don’t care what people think about you. He likes it when you fight with Robin over who chooses the music, despite it being his car. And he's pretty much obsessed with your face; the hard set of your jaw when you get impatient, the brow you silently arch that makes him feel things he shouldn’t, and the silent way you listen to conversation, only speaking up when you think it’s necessary. Steve is more than a bit obsessed.

He had been wrong that first day. He didn’t know you and wrongly assumed you weren’t happy to be there with them, when you actually were. He reflects upon it now that he knows your facial expressions; your eyebrows had been relaxed, and your eyes didn’t have a hard edge to them. You had been at ease, only closing yourself off when Steve tried to dig into your move to Hawkins. He really started off with the wrong foot, but it all takes a turn on a Friday night.

You visit FV for a tape mid-afternoon, surprising Steve at work. The weather is more than chilly outside, and Steve notices right away how you have no jacket on, only a dark red sweater. He’d been doing some paperwork behind the counter when the bell over the door for his attention. It rewarded him with the sight of you walking in, looking around before your eyes settle on him.

“Hey, Steve.” You say voice light as you approach him and lean your elbows on the counter. “Do you have karate kid available? My brother is begging us to watch it again tomorrow.”

Steve doesn’t know why but he struggles to speak for a moment —it probably has to do with the fact that you look very pretty, and two, this interaction is so different from your first one he shortcircuits. After a long pause you raise a questioning eyebrow, “You okay?”

Steve clears his throat. “Yeah. Um, we have it, let me go get it.”

“Thank you.” You nod as he dashes away from the counter.

“Did you walk here?” Steve asks once he’s cleared his head and reaches the action movie aisle. He sees you shrug over the stands.

“I usually do, I don’t mind it.” You explain simply.

“You’re not wearing a jacket though.” Steve grabs Karate Kid and goes back to the counter. Why are you always out in the cold without a jacket? It’s a miracle you haven’t fallen sick, he thinks.

“I left school in a rush, I was gonna be late for work.” You shrug again, eyes visibly lighting up when you spot the movie. “Thank God. Chris would have been insufferable if someone beat me to it.”

Steve crouches down behind the counter and retrieves his own jacket —a grey bomber— before placing it on the counter in front of you. “Here.”

“Steve,” You tell him seriously, rolling your eyes. “I’m not taking your jacket.”

“Why not? You’re the one walking out in the cold, I only have to walk towards my car.” He dismisses your refusal with a wave of his hand.

“Hey!” Robin says, calling your name as she emerges from the back room. “Perfect timing, I was going to call you.”

“Here to rent karate kid.” You tell her, a small smile on your face.

“And choosing hypothermia over my jacket.”  Steve chimes in, sliding his jacket pointedly towards you.

“It’s not that cold Steve.” You roll your eyes at him again, “But I know you’ll annoy me until I say yes.”

Steve gives you a triumphant smile and you shake your head, Steve would even say it’s shyly, before you take the jacket and shrug it on. “The movie? Please.”

Robin speaks up while Steve rings you up. “We’re gonna hang out at Nancy’s tonight. The kids will be there too, you should come.”

Steve risks a glance at you, in his jacket; a huge mistake. He seriously underestimated his reaction to seeing you in his clothes, because it is downright adorable and something he was unprepared for. The sleeves go past your hands and the whole thing is oversized on you, his shoulders being broader than yours and his torso longer. Steve bites back a smile —he hopes you never give it back to him; this is a sight he’d love to see more often.  He turns back to the computer to hide his grin from you and silently hopes you’ll say yes.

“Will there be other people?” You ask Robin, and Steve is quick to shake his head no and reassure you. Too quick.

“Just the usual gang.” Steve tells you, clearing his throat to hide his eagerness. “No one else.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Robin insists with a smile, then moves her gaze towards Steve, who tries to ignore the way she raises a knowing eyebrow at him. He’s gonna have an earful once you leave, he can bet on it.  

“Okay, I’ll be there.” You nod, then exchange some cash for the movie Steve hands to you. “Thank you, Steve.”

Steve leans his forearms on the counter, trying to give you his most charming smile to see if he’ll get one of those you give Robin in return. “We’ll pick you up after work.” Steve says and you look into his eyes for a long second before nodding.

“Sure.” You shrug, eyes shifting away from his. “I’ll see you guys later.”

------

At Nancy’s, chaos ensues. The kids argue over what board-game to play while Eddie and Robin argue over what record to play next. Steve is listening to Nancy and Jonathan talk about a volunteering drive she’s organizing and from where he stands, he can see you leaning against the wall next to Robin. Your face is neutral as you listen to the record that’s currently playing, tuning out Eddie’s argument for the most part until you speak up.

“Or you can let me choose?” You ask calmly, glancing at them briefly before going back to looking down at your feet.

“No!” Both Eddie and Robin say at the same time, and Steve notices the corner of your mouth twitch upwards.

“You chose this one, buttercup.” Eddie says with a sigh. “You’re only gonna choose one to annoy us.”

This earns Eddie an eye roll. “How exactly do you know that?” You ask. “It could’ve been a great pick, now you’ll never know Munson.”

Steve tries to tune back into Nancy’s explanation when Max pushes the board game she wanted to play away with a huff. It clatters to the ground as she stands from her place in front of the coffee table. You spot her and call her name only a moment later.  

“Hey Max, I got the new Wonder Woman!” You say after a moment when the read-head stops glaring daggers at the boys. 

Her eyes light up, a dramatic change from the look in her eyes moments ago. “Really? Can I see it?”

“‘Course, I brought it for you.” You roll your eyes, this time full of fondness, and nod towards the kitchen. “It’s in my bag.”

 Steve can’t follow your conversation because the doorbell rings, signalling the pizza Nancy ordered arrived. The weather feels much colder than earlier as he opens the door and steps outside, he pays for the pizza, tips the delivery guy and goes back inside. Arms full of pizza boxes, he walks back to the dining table, shooting a pointed look at Dustin and Mike. “Zip it or you don’t get a single slice.”

The high schoolers move more discarded boardgames away from the table in a heartbeat, scrambling to undo their mess and opening the pizza boxes in a hurry. Steve spots you still standing in the kitchen talking to Max as everyone helps themselves to pizza and decides to let you both know the food is ready.

“So, you skate too?” Max is asking you excitedly, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter.

You chuckle — it hits Steve in the chest and Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. “I do,” You grin, “I mean I used to when I lived in Indianapolis, but I haven’t since I moved here.”

“We can go to the skate-park tomorrow.” Max proposes raising her eyebrows, “If you want.”

You nod, “Sure. I’ll look for my skateboard tonight, let’s hope I still remember how to use it.”

“Pizza’s here.” Steve says, interrupting and smiling at you both. When your eyes meet his, your lips move to smile but in a matter of seconds you stop yourself.

It makes Steve furrow his brows and walk over to you as Max leaves to grab a slice. “You okay?” Steve asks, and your eyes meet his again briefly before they dart away as you sidestep him.

You make your way to the front door in a rush, this time though you do grab your jacket—his jacket— on the way. Just like he did the night of the party, Steve follows you, worried and confused at your reaction. Robin glances at him from the dining table, an unspoken question in her eyes but Steve can only shrug. He is certain he didn’t do anything wrong just now, but somehow, he messed up because you just fled from him.

“Stop.” Steve says after calling your name. “What happened?”

“Nothing, I just need some air. You should go back inside Steve.” Your back is to him, shoulders tense and close to your ears defensively.

“No,” He shakes his head. His lips go down into a frown briefly as he looks at your back. He voices the question he always asks himself when you shut him down. “Did I do something?”

“No.” You say when you turn, eyebrows meeting in the middle as you glare at him but Steve sees the way you struggle to hold it in place. After a second it falls, and your face just crumples to exhausted look. “I want to be alone.” You whisper.

 “You think a glare and a pout are intimidating enough to drive me away?” Steve shakes his head.

“I don’t pout.” You say, lips pursed and jaw tense. Pouting.

“You do and it’s not working.”  

You change tactics then, raising an eyebrow and staring him down like the night at the party but Steve shakes his head. “That’s not working either.”

“Why are you insisting so much on this!” You finally ask, raising your voice and crossing your arms in front of you. Your jaw clenches as you look away and Steve sees your eyes squeeze shut.

He runs a hand down his face and breathes out. “Whether you like it or not there are people who want to get to know you.”

“What, like you?” Your eyes cut a suspicious look Steve’s way and he can see your walls come back up right in front of him. A tear falls down your cheek and you’re quick to wipe it away, harshly. “Why?”

Steve throws his hands up in the air, exasperated but not raising his voice, “To be your friend! Just like Robin and Eddie are your friends.” His shoulders move up and down, trying to cover up how much he likes you and looks forward to your company. “Why are you so distrustful, is it something I did?”

“It’s not about you, Steve.” Your eyebrows meet in the middle again, and you look away from him, directing your gaze to the snow-covered lawn. “If… If it bothers you so much, why do you even want to be my friend? Because you’re wrong Steve. No one else does, and I’m more than fine with that.”

Steve shakes his head, knowing you’re lying to him and trying to convince yourself. His voice softens. “Because despite it, I like you, I think you’re… cool.”

“Cool?” The way you raise your eyebrows makes Steve chuckle.

Funny, caring, fucking beautiful, Steve wants to say but he just nods his head at your question.

“Yeah, and you’re interesting, and I… want to be your friend.” Steve’s hands settle on his hips as he shifts his weigh to one leg, looking down to the ground. Glancing at you briefly, he drops his voice to whisper your name. “Don’t leave. I’m not lying… that’s what worries you right?”

Steve assumes that’s where your distrust comes from; you told him it wasn’t something he did, then it must be that you’re scared to trust him. He’s known there are many feelings behind your hard exterior, one of them being fear. Steve doesn’t want you to fear him, and he wonders who broke your trust in the past. Silence settles between the two of you; you seem to be going over his words and Steve is giving you the time to do so. He’d wait an hour if necessary and reassure you a thousand times if it would mean you believe him. Steve panics when he sees you swallow hard and shift your eyes at the sky, the last thing he wanted to do was make you cry.

But you don’t cry. Instead, you take a deep breath and look into his eyes. There’s a vulnerability there that awakens an urge in Steve to hug you. “You promise?” Your voice is a whisper, but he hears you clear as day. You’ve never spoken so softly before, and Steve wishes it could have happened under other circumstances.

Steve looks into your eyes and nods with sincerity, hoping you can see he’s being completely honest with you. “Yes.”

“I do like you, Steve. You just scare me.” You look down at the ground for a moment and nod to yourself as Steve’s eyebrows shoot hop in surprise. A moment later, your eyes drift back to Steve and there are emotions dancing around in them he’s never seen before. “I’m sorry.”

Steve nods and something inside him tightens when you offer a small smile. It’s like something shifts between the two of you despite neither of you moving. In a matter of seconds, everything feels easy, natural, like the brief moment your shared at the party in October. Steve realizes it’s because you’ve let your guard down; you stand differently in front of him, more comfortable, less apprehensive. You scare me. “You wanna tell me why?”

You press your lips together and shake your head. “Another time, maybe?”

Steve tries to hold back a smile, but he can’t, it takes over his entire face. When he sees you shiver, he offers his hand. “Let’s go back inside, or I can drive you home if you want to leave.”

“I can stay a bit longer.” You say when you grab his hand –an electric shock goes up his arm. “I really want some pizza. But if they play Monopoly I’m definitely leaving.”

Steve’s laughter follows you as he leads the two of you back to the house.

--

The coffee cup Steve places in front of you at work the next Monday lands with a soft thud on the counter. It’s black coffee with some milk and sugar; the way Steve’s learned you take it every day. The sound and his presence make you look up at him over the top of your book, a doubtful eyebrow raised and a serious look on your face. Fuck your pretty, Steve thinks. Your eyes shift from the coffee to his face a couple of times before you close your book.

“What’s this?” You ask, leaning back on your seat and tilting your head.

Steve leans his elbows on the counter in front of you and tilts his head right back. “Considering you drink around 5 of these a day, one would think you’ll know what it is.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re mistaken. I actually drink 10.” You deadpan, looking at him with fake disappointment. “I thought you knew me, now that we’re friends and all.”

Steve laughs, looks down and shakes his head. When he looks at you again, there’s a half smile on your face. “Come on.” He says. “Let’s go grab some food.”

“I literally work at a deli, Steve.” You tell Steve seriously, motioning to your surroundings. “We’re surrounded by food.”

Steve copies what you just said with a roll of his eyes and smiles again. “I mean something else, babe. Come on.”

With a sigh you stand up from your seat and round the counter, leaving your apron behind. “You’re lucky I get a break in a couple of minutes.” You tell Steve before yelling over your shoulder. “Hank I’ll be back!”

Steve’s eyes light up and he considers his visit a triumph. He’s becoming surer and surer his feelings for you go beyond friendship and fondness and lean more towards: I want to hold your hand all the time, and cuddle you while we watch movies then forget about the movie and get lost on you. He wants to put his arm around your shoulder freely, have you lean your weigh against him and steal a kiss, probably more than one. No. It won’t ever happen so Steve shouldn’t even be thinking about it. He opens the passenger’s door to his car for you and smiles when you get in, your coffee in your hand.

It becomes a routine of sorts, either you visit him at Family Video bringing sandwiches for him and Robin or he picks you up, a coffee waiting for you in his car and drives you wherever feels right that day to eat your lunch. You talk about your day, or whatever gossip you heard that day. One day you even confessed to be scared about graduation.

“Everyone is so excited to finish school, and here I am so terrified about the future I haven’t opened any of my college application letters.” You muttered, picking at a loose thread on your sweater.

“Why are you scared?” Steve asked you and you swallow hard.

You turned your body on your seat, facing him as you shrugged. “I feel lost, I don’t know what I should major in. I also don’t know where I’d like to go, and I can't even research these colleges without panic settling on my chest.” Your eyebrows furrowed and your jaw got tense and Steve knew that meant you felt angry and this time it was at yourself.

Steve took your hand without a second thought, but you let him. “You know, you don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

“It feels like it.” You whispered looking at him, frustration and embarrassment shining in your eyes.  “Everyone else has it figured out.”

Steve shook his head; you shouldn’t feel embarrassed with him. “If there’s something I’ve learned about you, is that you don’t care about what other people are doing. What do you want?”

“I ask myself that question every day.” You mirrored his head shake and looked away. “Let’s talk about something else. Please?”

Steve was happy to change the subject, anything to cheer you up. By the time you go back to the Deli to continue your shift, he realized it was the first personal thing you’ve told him. Ever. It made him happier than he cared to admit.

-----

Two months after your talk in Nancy’s driveway, you invite Robin, Nancy, Eddie, Jonathan and Steve to your house. It’s the first time you’ve let anyone other than Robin into your home, this time for movie night. Your father and brother went back to Indianapolis to pick up other stuff from your old house, you said, it’s perfect timing. Steve and Robin arrive together, and shortly afterwards Eddie’s knocking on the door.

 Your house is cozy and simply decorated with a forest green comfy looking couch, a dark brown coffee table and a TV in the living room and all the basic stuff in both the dining room and kitchen.  There’s a record playing somewhere, and Steve can’t help the smile that comes to his face when he sees the way you’re mouthing the words as you move back and for the between the kitchen and living room bringing snacks, drinks and pizza for everyone. You’re wearing a cream-coloured sweater he recognizes from the party back in October and something funny happens in his stomach when he realizes just how far your friendship’s evolved since then.

“Babe come on take a break, we can help.” Steve stops you from going back to the kitchen with a hand on your shoulder and a fond look on his face.

You open your mouth to say something when Eddie and Robin appear on either side of you, presenting the movies they –surprisingly– were in charge to pick. “The best horror movies.” They say in unison.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as you take the three VHS tapes from them. “Oh. Um, great! Thank you.” Your reaction hides behind the grin you shoot both, who nod and disappear to the kitchen.

“You’re pouting.” Steve says stepping closer to you again in the living room; your eyes that were fixed on the VHS tapes drift upwards to meet his own. Steve smiles.

“I’m not pouting.” You tell him with a roll of your eyes, lips settling back into a pout as you scan the titles of the movies once more. “These are just scary.”

“You’re still pouting.” Steve whispers, like it’s a secret. His eyes drift down to your lips, a mistake that has him swallowing hard, before the doorbell rings, signalling Johnathan and Nancy arrived. He’s quick to turn and go let them in. It’s a perfectly timed distraction. He shouldn’t think about kissing you, because despite no matter how badly he wants to, you’d never let it happen, or feel the same way he does to let it happen.  “Just saying!”

Once the first movie plays, Eddie and Robin settle on one end of the couch, while Nancy and Johnathan sit on the floor in front of them. Steve shoots Robin a I know what you’re doing look before sitting next to her and feeling the couch dip under your weigh when you settle on the empty seat next to him. A sweet floral scent he now recognizes as your shampoo or your perfume reaches him and Steve actively decides to focus on the movie, not the way he wants to pull you over his lap and breathe you in. Eddie and Robin laugh every now and then and the four of you turn to look at them, there’s nothing funny about the movie. You begin covering your face with the bucket of popcorn as the movie progresses, your face grimacing as the suspenseful music picks up.

Steve leans closer to you, his voice a whisper as he speaks. “It’s just special effects don’t worry about it.” You turn to look at him, worried puppy dog eyes gazing into him and dammit you make it so hard to keep his distance. “Trust me.” Steve winks, lightening the mood only to jump and scream when he turns to the movie once more and a jump scare comes on.

It seems like the perfect medicine for your fear. For you forget about it and lean your head back laughing, a full-on belly laugh, that’s so contagious and beautiful Steve laughs with you. Nancy and Robin share a knowing look he doesn’t notice before they shush the two of you, shoving at his elbow and your knee. You cover your mouth with your hand and your shoulders shake as you lean your head on Steve’s shoulder, turning your body towards his; Steve’s never been so happy to be scared in his life.

Everyone leaves after 3 movies. Robin gets a ride with Eddie, and Nancy leaves with Jonathan as well. Steve though, stays behind insisting on helping you clean up, but it’s a weak excuse to check on you before he leaves. He noticed you getting nervous, fidgeting with your hands anxiously when everyone started to leave. The films were long done, so Steve knows something else is worrying you and it doesn’t sit well in his heart to leave you like this. Which is why he is currently picking up trash in the living room while you do the same in the kitchen.

You’re finishing placing the dirty dishes in the sink when Steve enters the room. He noticed right away the way your shoulders hunch and you take a deep breath. “Steve…”

“You okay?” Steve closes the trash bag and moves to the sink. His eyes roam your face as he looks sideways at you and washes his hands.

“I um… I wanted to apologize to you.” You tell him quietly, passing him a kitchen towel before moving away from the sink. “For how closed-off I was when you met me.”

After drying his hands quickly, Steve turns and leans on the edge of the sink. “It’s okay, it’s not easy to trust new people right away.” He reassures you –it’s something he understands now; he understands you.

You sit on the counter opposite to him and stare at the floor for a bit, polka dot sock clad feet dangling in the air. “It’s more than that. I’m just scared of getting close to people since…”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Steve shakes his head, keeping his eyes on your face.

“I trust you, Steve.”

Those four words make Steve’s chest flutter –relief, happiness, nerves– but he pushes the feeling to the back of his mind and patiently waits for you to continue. Your lips are pursed as you stare at the floor, gathering your thoughts.

“My mom…” You swallow, getting chocked up with those to words but soldiering on. With a shake of your head, you look up to the ceiling and will your tears away. “My mom left my dad, brother and I last April. She’d been cheating on dad for years… and that’s not even the worst part.”

You wipe your eyes quickly, lips pulled downwards into a deep frown when you pause again –an upside-down U Steve wishes he could smooth out with his thumb. But he stays where he stands and lets you continue.

“The other man was married too” Your eyes find Steve’s and where there’s usually a spark –like that night at the party– there’s only sadness directed at the memory. “He’s the father of a popular kid at my old high school, so you can guess what happened when everyone found out.”

Steve’s mouths opens again and this time a soft no escapes him.

You press your lips together and nod, “So not only did the news wreck our home… they made life at school unbearable for my brother and I. People who I thought were my friends just threw me away as if I was trash for something I didn’t do. Something I had no fault in.”

“Is that why you moved here?” Steve asks softly, walking closer to you. The answer to the question he asked many months ago, right in front of him and it doesn’t make him feel any satisfaction. No, it hurts him to know this. Moving away from everything you’ve known and starting over again during senior year sounds brutal.

“Yes.” You whisper and close your eyes briefly; more tears fall down your cheeks and Steve’s heart aches. Teary eyes move away from his and fix themselves on the kitchen window instead, your lips are pressed so hard against each other they’re losing colour. “She packed her bags right after school the day we found out. We saw her leave with that man, no other explanation, not even a goodbye or a note. Everyone except my dad and my brother decided to leave me that day.”

A sob escapes you then, finally breaking free and shaking your whole body; another one replaces it once it stops. Your hands move from the counter to your face, covering it as cries continue to escape you in succession. Steve wastes no time and walks to stand in front of you; he hates seeing you in so much pain. God, it must have hurt so much, just being left behind like that. His hands move to your hips and gently urge you to hop off the counter before he wraps you up in his arms. His shoulders shake with the force of your sobs as you cling to him.

“Stevie.” Your hands are bunched up in the back of his polo, holding onto him like a lifeline.

Steve can’t even relish the sound of your calling him Stevie so softly. He swallows hard as he witnesses the pain, you have felt inside of you for so long. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers.

“She left us, Steve. She just disappeared and left us grieving her despite her being alive.” You say between your tears, they soak the right side of his shirt, but Steve couldn’t care less, his arms just tighten around your waist. “She’d been pushing us away for years, treating us like garbage and now I can see it’s because we weren’t good enough for her anymore. She didn’t love any of us anymore. We… we didn’t make her happy.”

Your voice sounds hoarse from crying, and your hands tighten behind Steve’s back. When you bury your face in his chest, Steve hunches his shoulders and forms a cocoon to protect you from the past. His protective nature takes over as he holds you flush against him; his hand moves up and down your back firmly –you need to know he’s there, that he’s got you. Steve puts his cheek over your head and whispers his next words. “I’ve got you; you can cry as much as you need to, I’m not going anywhere.”

It takes a few minutes, but your sobs soon transform into soft sniffles even as you press yourself closer to him. Steve doesn’t want to upset you anymore, but he’s itching to comfort you and let you know what he wishes someone had told him years ago. “I know my own shit experience with my parents isn’t the same as what you went through.” He starts, taking a small step back so he can look at you.

His fingers take a gentle hold of your face until puffy and teary eyes meet his; Steve wipes away some stray tears. “But what your mom did to you doesn’t say anything about you alright? You’re more than good enough for anyone. If she didn’t see that, then she made the worst mistake of her life.”

You close your eyes at his words and look away, but Steve shakes his head and urges you to face him again with a whisper of your name. “You don’t have to prove your worth to anyone because your mother left. All of us see it, and we’re so lucky to have you here.”

Steve’s thumb catches more tears as your lips begins to tremble again. “I’m so fucking lucky that you trust me, and I understand why you didn’t at first, okay? I understand you.”

Your hands on his waist tighten again as your forehead drops to his right shoulder. “I didn’t used to be like this… I’m sorry that this is the me that you met.”

Steve shakes his head, sure that you feel it when he does, and pulls you flush to his chest again. Is this how you’ve felt since last summer? He wonders. Like this version of yourself is wrong or unlikable.

Sure, you’re not a smiley person, but that makes your rare smiles even more special –and they drive Steve crazy. You see the glass half-empty most times to protect yourself if things do indeed go to shit, but you also recognize genuine goodness. You don’t hesitate to encourage or celebrate everyone else’s happiness; he’s seen it firsthand, with the kids, with Robin and even himself. Steve doesn’t think he could ever get tired of your dark humour or that pretty pout that settles on your lips when you get annoyed, not to mention that making you laugh is his favorite thing in the world. Steve understands your anxiety and panic at your college decision, you don’t want another change; you don’t want to choose something you don’t like and face another disappointment again. Most of all, Steve finally understands your hesitance and the root of your gruff exterior, and he wouldn’t change a thing about it. He’s stupid in love with you; your grumpy and soft looks; your frowns and your smiles; your heart; and that tender way you’re holding onto him right now.

Steve places a kiss to the side of your head to keep himself from saying all of this out loud –it’s not the right time, not yet. Instead, he whispers above your ear, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

For a moment, stillness surrounds the two of you in the kitchen and there’s no other sound but your quiet sniffles against Steve’s shirt again. Steve doesn’t mind, he’s happy to hold you for as long as you need, which ends up being five more minutes. You take a step back and look at him with those pretty eyes of yours; they’re teary and red-rimmed but lovely all the same.

“Thank you, Steve.” You whisper, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips until your gaze drops to his shirt and embarrassment shines in your eyes. “Sorry I cried all over you.”

“I don’t mind.” Steve shrugs and looks at you softly, hands still on your waist. “I think I know what we should do.”

You look at him curiously. “About what?”

“To cheer you up.”

The head shake you give him is immediate, just as he imagined. “I don’t–”

“You deserve a happy life.” Steve states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and sends a wink your way hoping to amuse you. “And I think, ice cream is a good way to start. I should know, I worked at an ice cream shop remember.”

He leaves your side and walks over to the freezer to grab the ice cream he saw earlier that night when he got up mid-movie to get more ice. It’s cookie dough ice cream, which he knows to be your favourite –he’s known since that first night he met you. Knowing he’s completely serious now, your eyes stare into his eyes for a moment before you turn and grab two spoons from a kitchen drawer.

“I guess we’re having ice cream then. Considering you’re an expert.” You say with an eye roll Steve can only describe as fond when you approach him again. A moment later, you sit on the counter and Steve follows suit, sitting next to you. “Spoon?”

“Thank you.” Steve says and takes it from you after opening the ice cream tub. He offers the tub to you first, letting you scoop some ice cream with your spoon which you pop in your mouth. Your arms brush from how close you’re sitting, and Steve has to lean forward to look at you, but he doesn’t mind. He’s happy with the proximity.

A sigh escapes you and you close your eyes as you savour the ice cream. Steve feels heat creep up the back of his neck at the sound, but he shakes the feeling off; you’re only eating ice cream, to make you feel better. “You were right Harrington, this is like medicine.”

“Told you, I’m an expert.” Steve chuckles and eats his own spoonful, the creamy ice cream melting in his tongue before he laughs as you search for the cookie dough in the tub. “This is going to be just plain vanilla ice cream if you keep doing that.”

“Finders keepers.” You tell him with a shrug as you bring the cookie dough to your mouth. “It’s arguably the best part of this ice cream.”

“You’re supposed to eat the ice cream with it!” Steve argues, holding the tub away from your reach. “I want cookie dough too you know.”

You roll your eyes at him, but there’s a soft look on your face as you look at him and nod. The two of you go back to eating ice cream in silence until Steve speaks up again. There are so many things he wants to know about you still –he thinks he’ll always want to know more. “What’s something you miss from living in Indianapolis?”

You pause mid-scoop and concentrate for a few moments going over his question. A moment later a tiny smile makes its way to your lips. “There used to be a wonderful campsite my dad used to take my brother and I; we’d camp for three days and do all sort of activities.”

Steve smiles. “Like what?”

“Dad and Chris love fishing, so we’d do that. There was also hiking, swimming, s’mores. Oh! We’d all tell each other stories sitting next to the fire. They were all completely made up of course, and I think the more ridiculous they were, the more fun we had.”

Your eyes wander around the kitchen, like you’re back in the forest with your family and not next to Steve anymore. Light dances in your eyes and Steve can almost picture the three of you laughing around the fire as the catch of the day roasts on a grill nearby. He knows better than to ask about your mother, he’s got a pretty good idea what the answer would be. Besides, you’ve cried enough already, so much that Steve’s own heart feels bruised from seeing you in pain.

“You haven’t camped here in Hawkins?” Steve asks after a minute, voice quiet to avoid disturbing your memory.

You shake your head and sigh, the mirage in front of you disappearing as your eyes drift back to Steve’s. “Dad’s not the same person he was during those camping trips… he hasn’t scouted a good place for us to go. I don’t think he even wants to go camping anymore.”

Steve puts the ice cream tub on the counter and takes your hand instead. “Maybe we could go camping someday, invite everyone, have fun…”

Your head moves to rest on his shoulder, the dizzying smell of your shampoo and perfume reaching Steve’s nose at the proximity. He leans his cheek on top of your head and feels the faint nod you give him. “Maybe.”

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, your hand still in Steve’s grasp. Until he gives it a squeeze that makes you jump, as if you forgot you were holding hands in the first place. Steve chuckles. “What?”

Your head leaves his shoulder in an instant and for a second Steve is sure you’re going to hide behind your walls again, like you did so many months ago. His fear though, is replaced with concern when you hop off the counter and check the time with a frown.

“Babe come on, what’s going on?” He hops off the counter and stands in front of you. His eyes search yours until finally your gaze meets his, your embarrassment clear in them.

“I just hate being home alone at night. It makes me anxious.” Your hands fidget in front of you, as if you’re waiting for Steve to laugh at you. Oh, so that’s why you were nervous earlier. “I can’t sleep. At all.”

He looks down at his watch and sees that it’s midnight already. “I don’t mind staying over.” Bringing his eyes back to yours, he speaks up again. “Would that make you feel better?”

You close your eyes and let out a shaky exhale before you nod. “A lot better.” When your eyes open again, they’re full of gratefulness and surprise, as if Steve wouldn’t do anything for you.

 A smile grows on Steve’s face, and he takes your hand before you can thank him, threading your fingers together as he speaks. “Come on, you’re probably tired.”

Steve, however, is everything but tired. His heart is racing at the thought of spending the night here with you. You’ve never spent so much time together in a day, he’s never seen your bedroom, and there’s something about this impromptu sleepover that makes heat creep up the back of his neck. No. He’s here to give you emotional support; you were so anxious earlier and there’s nothing he wants more than to see you happy and comfortable. If staying here, despite it sending his feelings into a frenzy, is the key for you to rest then so be it. He can stay for one night.

You don’t let go of his hand as you lead him upstairs, passing various pictures of you and your family that hang from the wall opposite the handrail. There are three bedrooms upstairs and yours is the last one down the hall, its view towards the backyard. You open the door a moment later and let go of his hand as you step inside. Now that he’s here, Steve remembers neither of you made sure the doors were locked downstairs. He should do that.

“I’m going to take a shower.” You tell him as you walk towards your dresser.

Steve nods and swallows hard, using the excuse of your safety to be downstairs while that happens. “We forgot to lock everything downstairs. I’ll go do that.”

“Oh, right.” You press your palm to your forehead; Steve can see you reprimand yourself. “Thank you, Steve.”

“No problem.” Steve is quick to shake his head as he takes a step back from the room. “I’ll be right back.”

Once Steve is back downstairs, he makes sure to check the windows and lock the front door. He fiddles with the light switches for a while before he finds the right ones and turns the lights off. The whole process takes him less than five minutes, and the shower is still running when he’s back in your room. With a deep breath he finally looks around, gazing through a metaphorical window into your world, which he surprisingly already knew a lot of. The pastel walls make him smile, and he walks along the furthermost wall where various posters have been hung –all bands and singers Robin and you have played in his car. There’s a small vanity by the closet next to the bathroom, full of tiny bottles and a couple of lip-gloss tubes. Steve also spots a purple bottle of perfume on top, and a grin makes its way to his face –that’s the one that drives him crazy, he’s sure of it. He’s about to move closer and look at the pictures you’ve pasted in the vanity’s mirror, but he’s startled to a stop when you speak.

“I left a shirt for you to sleep in, if you want it.” You say and Steve turns around.

His heart summersaults when he sees you, fresh dewy face, hair out of your face, an oversized grey t-shirt with a pink Queen logo on the front and pink cotton sleeping pants. The overhead light of the bathroom makes a small rectangle in the carpeted floor, and some steam from your shower still circles around behind you. It takes all Steve’s self-control to stay where he is and not walk up to you and pull you into his arms; no tears between you this time, just Steve holding you the way he wishes he could all the time. He looks at the t-shirt you left on your bed to distract himself and laughs when he notices the colour.

“How’d you guess I love pink?” Steve asks you, glancing your way as he walks towards the bed and holds up the t-shirt. It’s very oversized like yours, and it has a black and fuchsia print of Blondie’s lead singer on it.

“Dunno, just thought it would suit you.” you chuckle, and Steve sees you hold back a smile as you point towards the bathroom. “There’s a spare toothbrush on the sink.”

Steve nods and hurries to the bathroom, lest you notice him blushing. He finds the toothbrush instantly and proceeds to brush his teeth, and though he doesn’t know why, Steve feels extremely happy to know both of you use the same toothpaste. He glances around and looks at all the details that are entirely yours around the room. There are some facial creams on a shelf next to the mirror, a vanilla scented hand soap on the sink, and a look towards the shower shows him two purple and pink shampoo and conditioner bottles –the ones that make your hair smell like flowers. Steve rinses his mouth, then takes off his sweater and jeans before he puts on the pink t-shirt you gave him and, like a freak, smells it to find that somehow your scent still lingers in the soft cotton.

If he was panicking before, he’s panicking even more now. He’s obsessed with you, he realizes, stupidly head over the heels and all of this is making it worse; lying on a bed next to you will make it so much worse. He’s got to pull himself together. He’s doing this because of fear of being home alone, that’s all. He can sleep alongside you for a night without making a fool of himself –or worse, accidentally confess his feelings. So, pushing all bed related thoughts to the back of his mind, he walks out of the bathroom to find you already under your duvet in bed.

 Not letting himself think too much about it, Steve turns off the lamp on your nightstand and slips under the duvet too. He keeps his body still, tense more accurately, as he lies next to you. That is until you turn to face him, and he immediately does too, like a magnet naturally attracted to you.

“Do you ever fear that you’ll wake up one day and everyone you know will be gone?” you whisper in the dark; your voice is almost silent, but Steve hears you loud and clear with how close he is to you. The minty smell of your toothpaste mingles with his own breath. Is this how things are going to be between you now, deep conversations and secrets you only trust to each other? He really hopes so.

Steve shakes his head, trying to make out your face in the dark as his heart constricts in his chest. “No,” he says just as quietly, “But sometimes I’m afraid that something terrible will happen and I won’t be able to help.”

Steve closes his eyes and exhales through his nose as he voices one of his fears for the first time. He’s sure that everything that happened in the Upside Down that they managed to fix was thanks to the brains in his friend group. Steve is all physical strength, which has proved useful in the past, but against monsters or whatever the hell could come next, he’s not sure it will be enough. The thought of being useless like that and everyone suffering because of it terrifies him. Even more now that you’re a part of said friend group. He’s sure of one thing though, he’d protect you and all his friends no matter what.

Your hand slowly moves to his shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Knowing you, Steve, I’m a thousand percent sure you’d find a way to help. Your stubbornness can be a good thing.”

A breathy chuckle leaves him as your words punch the air out of him. He’s silent for a moment, scrambling for something reassuring to say back. Words aren’t his forte, not unless he’s flirting. He’d rather pull you close to him and comfort you that way, the way he did in the kitchen. “You know… if we were to disappear for whatever reason, you can bet I’d fight my way to you. You won’t be alone.”

Steve sees you nod your head in the dark, his only sign that you haven’t fallen asleep yet. Your hand goes back to your side, in front of his before you stifle a yawn. Assuming your eyes are tired from all their crying, Steve moves his hand to cup your cheek gently.

“Go to sleep, you need to rest.” He whispers; he wants to give you more comfort, pull you close and rub your back until you fall asleep. He doesn’t because he can’t, that would make things weird.

“Thank you for staying with me.” You whisper back.

Remaining silent to avoid saying something that’d give away just how deep his feelings for you run, or the fact that the opportunity to be lying here next to you is something he should be thankful for, he only rubs his thumb softly on your cheek once more before letting go. With another yawn you turn around, your back facing Steve as you whisper goodnight.

Steve doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but he knows he sleeps more peacefully than he has in a while. Not that he doesn’t sleep well often, but most days his dreamless sleep is a result of the exhaustion of the day and not peacefulness. Last night though, there were no nightmares, no tossing and turning, just a distant dream of a campfire in the woods, fireflies, and a silhouette standing peacefully by the water. At some point, early in the morning, he finds himself waking to the light sneaking into the room from a small gap in the tulle curtains. His eyes that were too sleepy to open, blink awake at the awareness that you’re in his arms. Lovely floral scent and cozy softness pressed to him.

It seems that during the night, you’d shifted to your side and burrowed yourself on his chest, an arm around his waist and leg thrown over his hip. His left arm is around you, settled between your shoulder blades, holding you to him. He lifts it and checks his watch, barely 6am but Steve knows he should go. The last thing he wants is your father getting back home and finding him in your bed. Steve doesn’t know him and that’s not the first impression he’s looking for. Besides, there’s a pressing problem in his briefs, that has appeared from being tangled up with you, that he needs to hide in his jeans before you notice. Shifting his hips way from you he looks down at your sleeping face, brushing hair away from your face before he whispers your name.

“Hmm,” You frown, eyes still closed. “What?”

“You’re a cuddler,” Steve says as he smiles; it’s something that should surprise him, but it doesn’t. Not at all.

“I’m not.” You mumble and, contradicting yourself, press closer to him.   

“Yes, you are.” He chuckles, shifting his hips backwards again. “I have to go.”

You frown but move away from him, turning and facing away. “Why?”

Steve slips from bed and puts his jeans back on, adjust himself, before pulling his sweater over his head and on top of the pink t-shirt. Call him a lovestruck fool, but he’s not giving it back. “I don’t know when your dad’s gonna be back, I don’t want him to find a boy he doesn’t know in your bed.”

You chuckle, then yawn as you shift and sit up in bed. Steve stares at you longer than he should. His eyes take in your messy hair and your still puffy eyes from all your crying the night before. He smiles widely.

“I have drool on my face, don’t I?” You sigh, moving the back of your hand to the corner of your mouth.

Steve laughs and shakes his head. “No, you don’t; you look pretty that’s all.”

His words reward him with an eyeroll and a headshake before you stand up. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

You remain silent as the two of you walk side by side all the way down to the front door. Steve takes his car keys, and you move to open the door, but pause after a moment. Steve’s eyes look into yours as he wonders if there’s something wrong but when your eyes shift up to him, a small smile settles on your lips. Next thing Steve knows, your arms go around him in a hug.

He can’t help but sigh at the feeling and leaning his cheek on top of your head. “You okay?”

You nod and look up at him. “Thank you, Steve.” You say, stepping on the tip of your toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t thank me.” Steve smiles, letting his arms fall to his sides as his heart skips several beats. “Wanna get a coffee later?”

Is he bribing you with caffeine just to see you again? Of course, he is. Steve is charming, and he has a lot of work to do if he wants to make a move soon.

“Only if I get to pay.” You raise an eyebrow but smile nonetheless, that rare big smile he loves.

Steve huffs and opens the door. “Sure, babe.” He says though he knows you don’t believe him.

He walks to his car when you nod –heart pounding– and smiles as he drives away. Your figure on the rear-view mirror watches him leave until he turns at the end of the driveway. Steve leans his elbow on the door, his hand settling over his mouth as he thinks about the events of last night and this morning. Hope fills his chest, and Steve feels like this is the beginning of something really good for both of you.

 ---

There’s a small shift in your dynamic after that late night conversation in your kitchen. It’s like almost as if it brought you both closer: like a barrier breaking between you and Steve. Steve knows he should take it slow, that he should better conceal his feelings to avoid scaring you off. But another part of Steve wants to throw caution to the wind because there’s been a change in you too. I trust you, Steve, you’d said, and it shows. In the way you sit closer to him, how you give away more pieces of your past and yourself when you talk. There’s less apprehension and more curiosity from both of you and Steve can’t help but fall and fall and fall. He only hopes it doesn’t end up with him crashing down painfully.

The two of you make a new habit of visiting a small the café on the weekends; you sitting sideways on the couch and Steve talking nonsense to make you laugh. It starts the day after the sleepover, and the two of you use it as time to catch up on the events of the week. It delights him; every Saturday, he wants nothing more than to lean close and kiss your smile, the one he never thought he’d be at the receiving end of. You have bad days too, days in which Steve knows you’ve been crying, days where all you want to do is sit in silence with him. Steve doesn’t mind, at all, in fact he loves all your mood equally and now that he knows the backstory of what you went through, he offers you the quiet reassurance of his presence next to you, so you know you’re not alone.

Weeks pass like this, until winter leaves and spring comes. Overnight, the breeze has no bite to it anymore, the flowers bloom again and you begin to wear the prettiest floral dresses that give Steve a whole new reason to be obsessed with you.

“You two are adorable; when are you going to tell her, dingus?”

Steve and Robin had stopped by the Deli to get something to eat during their lunch break while you were on your lunch break too. The three of you had spent the 30 minutes talking between bites of your own sandwiches until the moment Steve had to drive away and you had to go back to your shift. He hears Robins words but his eyes follow your retreating figure until you’re out of sight –his mind is begging him to find you and steal a kiss just so he doesn’t go crazy. Robin snaps her fingers in front of his face and laughs when Steve startles. He rolls his eyes and gets in the car while Robin asks him the same question again.

Steve rolls his eyes again, “Tell her what?”

“That you’re obsessed with her dummy!” Robin hits his arm, Steve sends her an annoyed look, “You love her come on, you have to tell her.”

“No, I can’t.” He’s been thinking about it more often now. Keeping it to himself has been almost impossible lately and he knows he should do it before he breaks.

“Yes, you can, and you have to.” Robin asserts, setting her converse on the dashboard. “She clearly feels the same way.”

“She doesn’t.” Steve’s answer is instant as he focuses on the road and getting back to FV, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard they turn white. It’s a half-lie, and they both know it.

“She does and you know it.” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Robin shake her head.  “The way she looks at you Steve… it’s unbearable to watch, coming from her.”

Steve knows it, he’s seen that change. He’s felt the pitter patter of his heart, the way his hands shake when you look at him like that, like he’s all you want. But Steve is a coward in denial, he doesn’t want to assume wrong and send you running away from him. But if Robin’s seen it… “You really think so?” He says as he parks his car and Robin nods enthusiastically.

“Duh!”

He nods to himself, “Okay... I can tell her tonight. We are hanging out at my place anyway.”

“I’ll make myself scarce, just say the word and I’ll disappear.” When Steve nods Robin cheers, opening the passenger door and stepping outside. “Don’t mess it up, Steve.”

“I’ll try.” Steve grips the steering wheel, trying to calm himself down.

Steve doesn’t get a chance to though, for that afternoon with greying clouds in the sky you show up at Family Video as soon as your shift at the Deli ends. Steve is about to go to the back and finish some inventory he has procrastinated all week when he sees you pacing in front of his car, arms crossed over your chest. His heart soars, then fills with dread –somethings wrong. He knows it right away which is why he rounds the counter and rushes outside in a heartbeat.

“Babe, what’re you doing here?” Steve says as soon as he opens the door. “It’s gonna rain come on, let’s go inside.”

But you shake your head and look at him with a look he can’t name. It’s a sad look, and it makes Steve panic; he panics even more when he sees your eyes are teary and red-rimmed. “Did something happen? At work or at home?”

“I love you.” You say, at the same time thunder cracks in the distance. Your trembling lips press together when Steve’s move to smile, and your headshake makes Steve pause. “But I don’t think we should see each other again.”

“What?” Steve’s question is a whisper, almost lost to another booming thunder. “Why would you say that? Did I do something?”

“No, Steve.” You sigh, voice shaky, looking everywhere but his eyes. Steve knows this tell though; you don’t want to be caught in a lie. “We just don’t fit–”

“No.” He says simply, shaking his head as he interrupts you. This is that night in the Wheeler’s driveway all over again, you trying to shut everyone out. His hands still shake slightly though, at your confession, your words afterwards, at the idea of losing you.

“Steve it won’t work.” You tell him, it cracks halfway with feeling, and you swallow hard before repeating yourself. “It would never work.”

“Yes it will, it’s us.” Steve tells you, shaking his head. He remembers how far you’ve come, how close the two of you have gotten. He should’ve have known it would scare you, after what happened with your family. “Of course it will! It has worked for months.”

“It won’t! It won’t work regardless of our feelings. Because I’m me! And you’re you –you’ll get sick of me and then leave. And it’ll hurt more than anything I’ve ever experienced.” You tell him, shaking your head and looking at him with reddening eyes. Both your arms are crossed over your chest, as if you’re physically protecting your heart from feeling what if feels for him. I love you, you said. Around you, the sky begins to open, bathing both of you with big droplets of water. “I told you before, you scare me because I’ve never felt this way before.”

Steve tries to take a step closer, but you take a step back; it makes him groan in frustration. “You can’t make that decision for me! How can you think I’d just leave you?”

“Because the person who I thought never would, LEFT.” You yell, eyes brimming with tears that roll down your cheeks. They mix with the raindrops that fall on both of you and Steve’s heart aches.

“Then she didn’t love you enough, not the way you deserve.” Steve places his hands on his hips, looking at the wet concrete underneath his shoes. His eyebrows meet in the middle as he swallows hard. He can’t put into words how angry it makes him that someone hurt you so much, that you’re scared of being happy again. “I thought you trusted me.”

“I do.” You tell him, hands falling to your sides. Your voice is so quiet that the rain falling around you almost drowns it out. “You know I do.”

“Then let me love you!” You’re stunned into silence by Steve’s words, confessed loudly in an outburst as he brings his hands to his hair. He meets your eyes and feels his own tear up; he really doesn’t want to lose you. “Let me prove to you that I love you like crazy, baby. Because I do, you have no idea how much.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and Steve knows you can see all of his feelings reflected on his face. “I don’t want to be heartbroken again Steve! Can’t you see you’re sunshine, and I–”

“Don’t say that.” He whispers and steps closer to you, holding both of your hands. The way you cling to them sparks a fire in his heart, keeps his hope alive. “I told you I wouldn’t change a thing about you, that I’d fight my way to you.”

You try to let go of him, but Steve only pulls you closer even as you look away from him, lip trembling. “You know my issues, especially after what happened last year.”

“I do know them, and I’m telling you now that I don’t plan on ever letting you go. This isn’t just a fling, and you know it.” His hands go to your face, holding it gently and looking into your eyes. Those beautiful eyes he’s seen tear up, the ones that crinkle in the corners when you laugh and turn steely when you’re mad. He wants to look at them forever.

You close them, bracing yourself, as the sky continues to fall all around you. Big drops of water hitting your skin and soaking your clothes every second that passes. “Even if I have bad days, or get exasperated with you, or I’m a grump?”

Steve smiles and shakes his head. If only you knew. “I love it when you’re a grump, I want to kiss your pout so badly every time.”

“I don’t pout,” You roll your eyes, but Steve can see you’re trying to hide your fear. He’s learned every little detail about you to memory, this is you trying to build a wall. Well then, Steve knows how to break them down.

“I promise,” Steve says, like he did that November night you fought outside in the cold. His nose brushes against yours as tenderly as he can, rainwater sliding down between your faces –his breath catches on his throat. “I love everything about you, everything baby, trust me. It’s you and me, that won’t change.”

You nod, trust shining in your eyes as a teary smile makes its way to your face when you let it free. It knocks the air out of Steve’s lungs. “Stevie, I love you.”

 He leans his forehead against yours, happy beyond words and because he’s not good with them he says, “I really want to kiss you.”

“Then kiss me,” You urge him.

Steve leans down, holding your face in his hands and lingering close as he braces himself for this; this moment he’s wished for so many times. He smiles, and thinks finally, before leaning in and kissing you. A noise dies in the back of his throat, his chest feels full of helium and his mind reels at the everything he’s feeling. It’s even better than he dreamed it would be. Your lips soft against his, your hands in his hair, the sigh that escapes you when one of his arms wraps around your waist and presses you flush against him. His skin is buzzing, his fingertips are tingling. So he kisses you until you’re both dizzy, brushing his tongue against yours, matching your intensity head-on. Everything is intoxicating, the sweet scent of your perfume, the softness under his hands, the way your face feels like it’s on fire as his hand remains cupping your cheek. Steve is so in love he could faint, so he breathes you in as he kisses your cheek, your jaw, your neck and just below your ear until the two of you pull back. Soaked in rain, without a care in the world.

“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?” You ask him softly, stepping impossibly closer to him.

Steve smiles proudly, heart soaring. “Yes it does, I’m yours.”

“I want to kiss you again.” You confess after a minute, blinking away that raindrops that have gathered in your eyelashes and smiling at him. “But I’m cold.”

 Steve laughs when you frown and pulls you closer to him. “Yeah, we should probably get out of the rain.”

----

thank you for reading! reblogs are really appreciated and so is any feedback 💖

(I also wrote this tiny insight to grumpy reader’s feelings here )

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x you #steve x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst

[sunshinesteviee]

quality time - s.h.

summary: steve has some quality time with his newborn wc: 1.1k warnings: descriptions of steve's scars, dad!steve & mom!reader a/n: so i'm pretty sure this was originally a request from an anon literally forever ago, but i cannot for the life of me find the ask, i'm so so sorry! it's been a while since i've posted, so just a lil something for y'all. hope you enjoy! <3

Masterlist

“You wanna hold him again, love?” you ask your husband in a murmur, barely able to pull your gaze up from your newborn. He’s tiny and perfect, and you just can’t get enough of him, even after a couple of hours. 

Steve’s perched next to you on the bed, one strong arm around your body. His thumb traces short, gentle lines over the hill of your shoulder, nose pressing against your temple as he gazes down at your son, “Mhm, yeah, if—“

“You better not be saying ‘if it’s okay with me’, he’s your son, too, Steve. Here, you take him,” you elbow him gently, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. It’s adorable, but totally not necessary. 

His cheeks flame red as he carefully takes the bundle of blankets from you, sheepish as he mumbles, “That’s not what I was gonna say—“

“Save it, baby, I know you better than that.”

He huffs but doesn’t say anything, immediately drawn to his baby boy in his arms instead. He looks like a mini version of you, your nose and eyes that he loves so much; it makes his heart grow ten times bigger. He does have a full head of hair that’s definitely the Harrington gene, though. And maybe he has Steve’s lips, too. 

Steve pulls his arms up, pressing a kiss to his head gently before he moves towards the chair in the corner of the room that he’s claimed as his. Just as he’s about to settle into the chair, a nurse enters the room to check on everyone. She smiles at the sight of your baby boy in Steve’s arms and says, “You know, there’s a lot of benefits of doing skin-to-skin with your newborn. Especially for dad and baby. Helps to regulate baby, and is great for bonding with your baby. Wanna give it a try?”

You expect Steve to say no. Not that he doesn’t care or doesn’t want to, but you can count the number of times you’ve seen him with his shirt off in public on one hand. After his time in the upside down, he’s marred with scars. Deep ones that eat into his sides and pucker his skin, that are rough and not pleasant to look at. The first time he’d gotten up the courage to take off his shirt at the pool, scars still fresh and pink, he’d gotten incredulous looks and nasty stares. He’d quickly learned that it was better to keep his clothes on to keep the questions to a minimum. He wasn’t ashamed, it was just easier that way. The only times Steve took his shirt off in public was if it was around people who knew what had happened, and even then, sometimes he didn’t want to. The scars were a reminder of all the shit they’d been through, and sometimes it was easier to pretend they didn’t exist. 

So, to say you’re surprised when Steve immediately agrees is an understatement. You watch in shock — and admiration — as Steve hands your son back to you for a moment so he can pull his shirt over his head. In fact, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him remove his shirt so quickly, even after all your years together. The bite-shaped scars, though not as prominent as they once were, are on full display, still slightly pink and raised against his tan skin. If the nurse notices, she doesn’t say anything; she only smiles, suppressing a laugh as Steve trades you his shirt for your son. 

He takes him carefully, as if your son is made of glass and could break at any moment. He handles him so delicately it makes your heart burst, and you cradle Steve’s shirt to your own chest. Steve finally sits down, placing his little boy in his lap so he can unwrap the blankets and get him out of his tiny onesie. It’s so small that it nearly makes you cry, even more so as you watch your husband lift your son back up and lay him against his chest once the onesie has been set aside. 

He pauses for a moment, not quite comfortable in the chair yet, eyes flicking to the nurse in the corner of the room as he asks, “It’s not— he’s not gonna be too cold, right?”

“Not at all! Skin to skin is actually great for regulating a baby’s body temperature. He’ll be just fine.”

Steve considers what she’s saying and then nods, finally leaning back into his chair, holding your boy to his chest, “Yeah. Okay, yeah, that’s good.” For someone who had been almost as terrified about being a dad as he was excited, he’s taking to it quickly, just like you knew he would. You knew his insecurities had more to do with his parents than his own ability to be a parent, and so far, he’s already proving himself wrong. 

The newborn scrunch is in full effect, your son’s tiny limbs tucked mostly underneath his body against Steve’s chest. He looks content, and you honestly can’t blame him — Steve’s chest is also one of your favorite places to be. Your husband looks just as content; one hand covering the entirety of your son’s back, fingers behind his head for support, the other hand on his small, diaper-covered bum to keep him in place. Steve’s eyes flutter closed after a few moments, settling back into the chair comfortably.

There’s a Polaroid camera sitting on the bedside table next to you, and you reach for it so you can take a picture. You want to remember this. Not only for the sweet moment, but also for Steve’s clear and immediate love for his little boy. The noise of the camera is a lot louder than you anticipated, and Steve cracks one eye open, sending you the best fake glare he can muster with just one eye. It’s ridiculous and it makes you laugh behind your hand, not wanting to wake your sleeping baby. You murmur a half-hearted apology as the picture prints, not really meaning it. 

Steve snorts his own laugh, his chest moving enough for your little boy to grunt quietly in protest, shifting his position against Steve. Quick to soothe, Steve pats at his tiny back gently, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I know, I know, I’m sorry, sweetheart. Mama’s interrupting our quality time, huh? She had nine whole months with you, and she just has to interrupt us.” 

“Steve,” you giggle, shaking your head as you hold up the now developed picture, “I was trying to capture the moment!”

“Shhh, we’re bonding!”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #sunshinesteviee #sunshinesteviee writing

[pixiemunsons]

baby, baby, baby (sh)

steve's always discovering new things about himself, usually with your help

breeding kink!!! i can't state enough if this isn't ur thing click off because that's all it is. unprotected sex, p in v (f! reader), fingering, discussion of babies and breeding, hint of jancy, rough-ish sex, bit of misogyny surrounding birth control (reader goes on the pill.) one use of the word daddy during sex but not rly daddy kink. no use of y/n, no spoilers, no reader description. steve’s into cringy pet names i don’t make the rules (2.2k words)

a/n; a really lovely reader made it clear to me that some of my language wasn’t POC or plus size friendly. this absolutely wasn’t my intention and i’ve edited this language out to ensure that this is a fic for anyone, as intended. pls let me know if i do make any mistakes like this - being exclusive is absolutely not something i ever intend to be. thank you angels<3

it had started growing in him one day, and he hadn’t felt the end of it since.

a sort of weird, deep urge he felt in his bones, gnawing at him from the inside out and churning his brain and boiling his guts. if he hadn’t known better, he might have called it animalistic. neanderthal. his most base instinct. for months, he hadn’t been able to think about anything else. twisting his mind and driving him crazy.

steve harrington wanted to fuck you full of his babies.

you hadn’t even known you were doing it. how could you? you knew he wanted kids, and a lot of them, but it felt miles off in your mind. when he told you about you and the six kiddos and the camper van, you thought he meant five, maybe even ten years off. so you’d thought nothing of it when your friend liz had asked to come over for a coffee with her almost brand-new baby and you’d spent the afternoon playing with her in front of steve. 

he’d seemed a bit more tense than usual, and you thought maybe he was uncomfortable around the baby. you knew he had a relatively small, relatively disconnected family, and the last kid born was more than ten years ago, so he’d never really even been around infants. he seemed to be watching intently as you picked her up, smoothing her tufts of hair back and nuzzling your nose into her hair to absorb her uniquely baby smell. you’d never brought it up though, never thinking much of it. until it started happening more.

you’d see a toddler sticking their tongue out at the grocery store and stick yours back before steve would half drag you away by the arm. you’d mention your hairdresser’s imminent due date, and he’d find a way to change the topic. hell, you’d cooed over the baby in look who’s talking one time and he’d switched the channels, claiming he hated john travolta even though you’d watched saturday night fever with him at least four times. you were starting to get confused. the two of you had talked about kids; why was it becoming such a problem now?

───

‘i got on the pill, y’don’t have to bother with a condom.’

steve stopped stock still. in seven years, he’d never been able to go without. shitty blue state indiana had made contraception for unmarried women a fucking nightmare, and while he really wanted to marry you eventually, he wasn’t about to do it just so he could go raw. steve’d half-hoped he wouldn’t be able to until you were married; he didn’t know what he was capable of if you let him do that to you. but you’d sprung it on him. while you were naked under him and he was halfway to the bedside table, you’d laid a small hand on his arm and looked up at him with that expression on your face he loved so much and stuck out your bottom lip. he’d never said no to you before. how could he ever start now?

‘a-are you sure? y’know i don’t mind, sweetness, i’m happy to wear one.’ he was frowning now, deep lines etching the ordinarily soft skin of his forehead, and you reached a hand up to smooth out the creases.

‘kinda thought you’d be a bit more excited than this, honey.’ you were half-smiling, half-worried, head tilted as you observed steve. you’d known him for fifteen years, been dating him almost half as long. knew him like the back of your hand, knew when he was worried about something, when something was playing on his mind and he just couldn’t shrug it off. he shook his head vehemently, stroking your face with a shaky hand.

’s’not that, babe. i’m really excited, like, really excited. didn’t think we’d be able to do this until- well…’ he trailed off, leaning down to kiss your bare shoulder in a feeble attempt to hide his reddening face from your eyesight.

you sat up a little then, peering down at him. the pill wasn’t even something you’d thought much of until nancy had told you all about it, hush hush over a coffee.

‘it’s changed my life, honestly. everything’s more… regular, and well, you know…’ you’d raised your eyebrows at her to hasten her explanation and she’d blushed bright red and hidden behind her hair when she whispered ‘jonathan loves being able to, like… y’know, do it inside. everything’s so much better in the bedroom.’ 

you’d left your lunch date hot under the collar, and almost sprinted straight to your family doctor. the idea of being so intimate, so close to steve for the first time ever without having to worry about the consequences excited you.

‘until what, stevie? we can carry on using a condom if you w-‘ steve’s eyes shot open, shaking his head wildly until his hair bounced.

‘no! no, i just.’ he cleared his throat, itching the back of his neck nervously.

‘i’m worried if we do it without, i won’t be able to hold back. the idea of doing that to you, of cumming inside you… it makes me so hard i can’t think.’

his confession left your mouth open and mind whirring, thinking back to the last few months and the way he’d been acting around you and babies and all of a sudden, everything clicked.

‘stevie,’ you cooed, smirking at the expression on his face. ‘you wanna get me pregnant, don’t you?’

a guttural groan broke free from his throat and he lunged forward like a man possessed, capturing your lips with a ferocious heat that had you moaning into his mouth. large, rough hands gripped your stomach, your hips, and squeezed so tight you groaned. steve took his chance, tongue surging into your mouth and licking the top of your mouth, the back of your teeth. he pushed himself up so he was kneeling above you, manhandling you up so you were facing him, knees touching.

‘y’can’t say that to me, baby,’ he looked frantic, still kissing you between words. ‘god, you’re so… so fuckin’… h christ, can’t believe you said that.’ your mind was reeling, all consumed with the idea of it. 

‘i’d be lying if i said the thought of trying for a baby with you wasn’t on my mind recently, stevie.’ you looked up at him, eyelashes fluttering, and his fingers dug into your flesh so hard you were sure there’d be bruises the next morning. ‘when liz came over with the baby, y’have no idea how much i wished she was ours.’

steve was totally fucked.

he couldn’t get his breathing under control listening to talking about carrying his babies, and his head was swimming in pictures; you, lying on the beach in a bikini with a cute bump. lying on your front cautiously while steve rubbed your tired back muscles. tying your shoes for you ‘cuz you couldn’t reach over your swollen tummy. most of all though, he couldn’t stop imagining the sight of his cum seeping out from your pretty little pussy, your hips propped up on a pillow, hoping it’d take.

‘think we should?’ he spoke before he could even think about it, and he almost apologised. almost. because when he looked down at your face, instead of seeing shock or disgust, you were fucking smirking up at him. a manicured nail traced its way up through his chest hair, the other hand gripping the back of his neck, and steve felt lightheaded.

‘you gotta be off the pill at least a week before it stops working, you know.’ you cocked your head to the side. ‘doesn’t mean we can’t start practising though.’

steve helped you onto your knees so you were face down, ass up. his favourite, especially when he wanted to go a bit harder, a bit rougher, and the anticipation sent shivers down your spine. behind you, the bed shifted, and the distinctive sound of elastic cracking skin rang out from behind you as steve shed his boxers, the final (and only) barrier left between the two of you.

‘you want me to lube up, baby? i’d ask you to do it with your mouth, but i think i’d bust.’ you laughed together and he grabbed your left hand, intertwining your fingers. no matter what, steve never made you doubt how much he loved you, and small moments of intimacy like this always made you wanna cry every time.

‘just a bit, babe, ‘m ready for you,’ you whined your hips back into him, ass brushing his hairy thighs, and he groaned at the trail of slick you left against his hot skin. reaching into the drawer and, for the first time, straight past the open box of johnnies, steve grabbed the half-empty bottle of lube that lived there. you could hear him squirting it into his hand, slathering it all over his thick cock, all the while muttering away almost mindlessly.

‘you’re gonna be such a good mommy, honey, s’ good for me and our baby. so full of our children, so beautiful and round for me, gonna look after you. gonna be the most gorgeous little family, sweetness.’ he reached down, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

‘baby, i really need to just fuck you full,’ he whispered, and you looked over your shoulder at him. there was an almost feral gleam in his eyes, and you swallowed thickly. he pushed two long fingers into you, whining when he found you were already soaking wet and more than ready to take him. you keened your hips back again, pleading, pretty eyelashes fluttering.

‘take me, steve.’

he was up to the base by the time you’d taken a breath, heavy balls resting at the curve of your thighs and ass, and the sensation was like nothing either of you had known before. you could feel every ridge, every vein pumping through his cock, and he felt so warm in you it could have almost been too much. steve had never felt anything so hot, so tight, so unbelievably natural in his whole life, and he had to stop still as soon as he was balls deep lest he cum in seconds. 

‘oh fuck,’ he was groaning behind you, legs trapping the bottom half of your body to the bed in an attempt to stop you squirming. ‘this is- jesus christ, this is something else, baby.’ under him, you were desperately trying not to rock your hips back into steve’s. he was so heavy and hard inside you, twitching and leaking precum already and he hadn’t even moved, hadn’t even started to fill you up.

steve’s hips pulled back slowly, leaving just the head still wrapped in you, before plunging back in and starting up a brutal pace. his hands were gripping at your pelvis and your head was buried in the pillow at the head of your bed, fingers reaching behind you to intertwine with his own against the fat of your hips. he thrust particularly hard into one spot that had your mind reeling, almost screaming his name into the pillow and pulling forward from the pleasure of it all. steve chased you, the front of his thighs almost stuck to the back of yours with sweat. by now, he was barely even pulling out, just chasing his own thrusts deep within you as he panted above you, sloppy kisses pressed into the skin at the back of your neck. skilled fingers reached around to your clit, rubbing it in that way only steve ever managed to do it, and your legs felt like jelly under you. if it wasn’t for the way he pressed right up against your hips, you’d be on your front by now, crushed under his weight into the bed.

‘’m really, really close, baby, fuck. c’mon sweetness,’ he was rambling behind you, hips working even quicker to turn you to goo under him, melted into the mattress and taking what he gave you. you could feel it building deep in your stomach, and you just needed something else, something to push you over the edge-

‘cum for me, let’s make me a daddy,’ steve was crying out and you were cumming, thighs clenching and back arching, screams buried into the pillow and teeth clenched so hard your jaw popped. steve wasn’t long behind you; the way you gushed when you came, the vice-like grip on his leaking cock? it was all too much, and for the first time, steve harrington came inside the love of his life, hot and gasping and flashes of you with a baby bump running through his mind. carefully, gently, he pulled out, cock softening against his thigh and then growing half hard again. your pussy was swollen, his cum leaking out of your hole. unthinking, steve reached up to push it back in with two fingers, rubbing your ass with the other hand when you flinched away from the stimulation.

‘sorry, baby, just gotta make sure it takes.’

you rolled onto your back, and he couldn’t help but smile at the way you rolled your eyes at him.

‘told you stevie, gonna be at least a week until i’m all fertile and shit again.’

he flopped on top of you, grinning.

‘i guess we’re gonna have to practise over,’ a kiss to your cheek.

‘and over.’ your shoulder.

‘and over.’ your nose.

‘and over again.’ finally, your lips. ‘i love you.’

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington x f!reader #Steve Harrington x female reader #Steve Harrington imagine #Steve Harrington fluff #Steve Harrington angst #Steve Harrington blurb #Steve Harrington headcanon #Steve stranger things #Steve the hair harrington #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things blurb #stranger things angst #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #Steve Harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fanfiction #stranger things masterlist #stranger things vol 2 #stranger things s4 #stranger things steve

[mrsharrington83]

Idiots in Love

REQUESTED – My asks are open if you have a request ^_^

Summary; (For the sake of this fic, Steve and Nancy never happened) Steve and reader being dumb and having moments of being iconic together. Since everyone knows that Steve isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, maybe he just needs another person to be as dumb as him or maybe he just needs someone else to match him mentally.

Words; 3.4k

warnings; swearing, usual stranger things, things, slight mention of drug use, blood and injury. not proof read.

A/N; thank you for all the requests! I apologise for taking so long getting through them all. i cant write a 0.5k-1.0k fic for the life of me at the minute! Its 2am for me now, but i really wanted to get this out!

Dustin said Steve was an idiot because he had too much hair on top of his head which left too much room for air. For you, Dustin said it was because you’d been around Steve for far too long.

Hawkins, Indiana, 1983.

School was a bore, you tried your hardest and whilst you did ace some classes, you also completely failed in others. Picking up extra tuition and getting help from anyone who would give it to you was a struggle. You didn’t like asking for help, it made you feel dumb, but more than that, it made you feel useless. Why did you struggle so much in certain classes and not in others?

You honestly thought it was from a fall you had as a child when you were learning how to ride a bike. Your father had stupidly taken off your stabiliser wheels and let you go on the hill of your childhood garden, right into a tree. Whilst you were fine overall, you did end up with a nasty bump on your head.

Not only were you not that smart academically, but you were also very accident-prone, which is how you met Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. You weren’t the most popular person in school, you had a small group of friends and that was enough for you. You didn’t want to be known by everyone. As you walked down the busy hall to your locker, hardly taking in your surroundings and paying attention, you slammed into someone’s back. Your extra tuition books and folders fell to the floor,

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going!” The person you slammed into turned around, Steve Harrington, one of the most popular, sought for guys in school looking down at you, “I- I” you stuttered and he smiled, placing his sunglasses on the top of his head, he always found your first meeting adorable, it was something the party had heard several times and not got bored of hearing it. The nervousness in your eyes, the way you pushed some of your hair back behind your ear. The way you bent down to get your books, just as he was doing the same. Your heads collided and bounced off each other, his glasses joining your books on the floor, thankfully not broken,

“Shit! Sorry!” It was Steve’s turn to apologise as he slipped his discarded glasses into his pocket and pulled all of your books and folders into his arms, standing quickly so as not to embarrass himself further, “are you okay?” you just laughed and nodded, taking the books from his arms as you thanked him. That was the start of yours twos budding romance.

Hawkins, Indiana, October, 1984

It was a constant source of amusement for the party, they couldn’t believe some of the stuff you and Steve came out with half the time and how you were both so in sync,

***

“Maybe if we set this on fire,” Mike stated as he looked toward all the drawings on the floor,

“Oh, yeah. That’s a no.” Steve bites back, shaking his head, throwing a tea towel over his shoulder as he leaned on one foot, hand on his hip,

“A double no at that,” you called back to scrambling kids who were already gathering supplies and pointing at drawings on the floor,

“The mind flayer would call away his army,”

“They’d all come to stop us,”

“We circle back to the exit,”

“Guys.” Steve interrupted the party as they carried on talking between themselves, rushing around, completely ignoring the two older people in the house,

“By the time they realise we’re gone-“

“El would be at the gate,”

“HEY, HEY, HEY, this is not happening!” You and Steve bellowed over the party as they stopped to look at the both of you, your arms falling around as Steve grabbed the tea towel from his shoulder, whipping the air,

“Do you two share the same brain cell?” Dustin looked towards you both,

“No!” you both shouted in unison again, looking towards each other before laughing, the kids joining you.

***

They were all ecstatic when they found out you were both dating, though they did have to push you both in the right direction, this whole thing was an unlikely friendship between people. The only reason you were involved with Dustin and his friends was because you babysat him whilst his mum was at work, this caused you to get involved with the disappearance of Will last year and in turn, with you being close to Steve. He was brought into the mix also.

It was so obvious to others, how you both felt about each other, but it wasn’t for you and Steve. After some coxing and words of wisdom from the younger party, as you called it. You and Steve were finally an item, though they didn’t find out until months later when Steve let it slip,

“Dustin, stop picking on my girlfriend, would you?” Steve looked up from his plate of food as he moved bacon around with his fork, leaning back against the dining room chair as he stretched,

“But she just- wait? What... girlfriend?” Dustin looked back and forth between you both, the pair of you looking confused, “you’re meant to tell us!” Steve carried on moving food around his plate as you took a bite of toast leaning against the counter,

“Tell you what?” you asked wiping the crumbs off your hands onto a discarded tea towel,

“Have you been listening to any of this conversation?!” Dustin questioned, “That you’re together! I can’t believe this! How long have you two been a thing?! Wait until the others find out about this!” You picked up your plate with half a slice of toast left and took a seat opposite Steve as Dustin still stood shocked, playing with his walkie,

Steve finished up his food and stood up to put his plate in the sink, he looked at the calendar furrowing his brows slightly at the small writing, “Like seven months? Right?” he looked back at you as you nodded, your mouth full of toast.

Dustin once again stood dumbfounded, his mouth visibly agape as he pressed a button on his walkie, “you are not going to believe this, guys.”

Hawkins, Indiana, June 1985

“Oh, this is ridiculous.” You smoothed out part of your Scoops uniform that was now creased and bloody from your split lip and Steve’s as he was continuously hunching over you in a Russian loading car trying to gather his senses and not be knocked from pillar to post by Dustin’s driving up front, laughter bubbling in your throat, the situation was anything, but funny. All three of you (Steve, Y/N, and Robin) had been interrogated to the max, but once they found out there was a tie between you and Steve, they took advantage of that.

***

“Who do you work for?” the guard got down into your face once more, holding the arms of the chair you were tied to, his eyes glaring into your own,

“How many times do I have to tell you I work for Scoops Ahoy? I scoop ice cream for a living!” you cried out as you earned another slap across your already throbbing jaw. Steve was tied up behind you already passed out, they’d done a number on him and all you wanted to do was get out of this place and tend to his injuries, he didn’t deserve any of this. Robin was tied to the corner of the room having to witness her two new best friends being treated like this.

The Russian guard got in your face once more, “it looks like your friend here needs a doctor. Just as well we have the very best.” A smirk across his face made you see red, and without thinking you spat at him. A slight tinge of blood from your split lip was dripping down your chin, staining the collar of your uniform, “you’re going to regret that little one.” With that he muttered something else in Russian before leaving the room with the other guards, leaving you three on your own once more, but not without Robin calling them all bastards and yelling to let you all out of there.

“Steve?” you called gently as Robin tried to manoeuvre her arms from her binds to no avail. Unlike you two, she was tied to a bench so she couldn’t do much whilst she was bound up. Steve started to stir, pain evident in the way he groaned, “oh thank god... are you okay?” you asked quietly not wanting to be too loud,

“Ears are ringing, I can barely breathe and, my eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull, but apart from that I’m doing pretty good.” His voice was laced with pain and sarcasm.

***

You were pulled out of your thoughts as you came to an abrupt end, all three of you hitting already pained parts of your body as Dustin crashed into something,

“You guys alright back there?” Dustin asked as he looked to Erica with a slight shrug, “They’re fine, come on. Let’s go.” Dustin hurried out and opened the back of the loading car, hurrying you all out. Time was of the essence after all. This definitely made him think about how he acted sometimes, it was a handful and the fact you and Steve cared for him and all of his friends ample times made him furrow his brow slightly, not that he would change after they got out of this mess, he had an excuse, he was still younger than you.

 “Guys! Come on!” Dustin bellowed as he huffed in annoyance, slapping his wrist, and ushering everyone into the elevator.

“Oh my god! A skateboard!” you screamed out in joy, jumping on a red platform truck as Dustin got to work pressing buttons and hoping for the best, once the elevator started to move, you started to struggle. Steve grabbed hold of the platform truck to stop it from moving too much,

“It looks like you're surfing!” Robin pointed at you as Dustin and Erica glanced at each other quite clearly done with your shit.

“They look drunk,” Erica stated, all of you now splayed on the floor talking about food, “why are they drunk, or drugged?” she questioned as Dustin felt Steve’s forehead,

“He’s burning up,” Dustin spoke to Erica alarmed,

“You’re burning up” Steve bit back, trying to push Dustin away with his hand whilst you and Robin laughed at the ceiling,

 “Eyes are bloodshot, pupils dilated, Steve,” Dustin pat his cheek lightly, “are you drugged?”

“How many times, Dad? I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.” Steve poked Dustin’s cheek and started laughing again as you and Robin shot up,

“you have marijuana?!” you crawled over to Steve and laid next to him, “gimme!” more laughs erupted from the three of you as Dustin and Erica watched on, wondering what the hell they were going to do to get you all out of this mess in one piece.

Getting you all back to the mall safely was a lot harder than Dustin could have imagined, Robin was picking at her uniform whilst tripping up over thin air whilst you and Steve were trailing behind humming and drumming the air to Simple Minds- Don’t You (Forget About Me) a song that had been on the radio continuously for the past month- a song Dustin thought you were both getting annoyed with as it came on the radio hours before you were in this mess and you were both scrambling with the radio to turn it off with rushed words of, fuck sake, turn it off, not this again, if I hear this song one more time I swear,

“Don’t you, forget about me.”

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t.”

“Don’t you, forget about me.”

Keeping you all hidden from the Russians was a lot harder than it could have been, with you three wanting food, and then trying to separate to find food, Dustin thought of a quick solution and got you all into the movie theatre but not before Steve reached into the bin to pull out a bag of discarded popcorn,

“You three sit.” Dustin pointed at the three vacant chairs as you all complained about being too close, and how the seats sucked. “Well then don’t watch the movie!”

“But we want to watch the movie!” Robin exclaimed as other people around you started to get agitated,

“Then watch it!” Dustin apologised to other people trying to shush you all, changing his tone to a hushed annoyed whisper, “Whatever you do. Don’t... go... anywhere.”

“Fine, Dad.” Steve perked up shaking his shoulders slightly as you and Robin snickered, taking handfuls of popcorn and shoving it in your mouth.

“That settles it,” Dustin huffed, “I'm never having kids." The pair sat down a few seats away, keeping their eyes off you trying to fetch up a plan.

Once they both realised you three had left the movie theatre, Dustin let out an audible sigh from his chest, this day, was not it.

“So, like, I wasn’t totally focused in there or anything, but... I’m pretty sure...that mum was trying to bang her son.” Robin leaned against the wall as you and Steve took turns drinking water from the fountain,

“But they’re the same age.” you stopped drinking and looked towards Robin,

“No, but he went back in time.” Robin looked up to the ceiling, balancing on one foot and then the other,

“Then why is it called back to the future?” Steve asked confused as he stopped drinking, letting Robin get to the fountain.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” you stated “Back means past so how could he be travelling back to something that hasn’t even happened yet?” you questioned Robin, Steve looking at you doe-eyed, completely agreeing with you,

“He has to go back to the future because he’s in the past, so, the future is actually the present, which is his time” Robin added as you looked confused,

“wh...What?” you and Steve looked at each other astonished before you both got distracted by the ceiling lights, dizziness, and churning in your stomach had you all rushing to the toilet, bringing up everything that happened in the day.

“Well that was no fun,” your voice was harsh, your throat sore as you leaned back against the cold wall of the cubical, no longer dizzy, everything still, the walls no longer moving around you, “Back to the Future though, I can’t get over that.”

***

Hawkins, Indiana, March 1986

Walking into the creel house was way more disturbing than it looked outside, creaking floorboards, furnishings covered in dust and cobwebs, completely derelict, wherever you stood, something creaked.

Lucas went to check on a small lamp for some light, probably to take the edge off an already eerie situation, “looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill.” He stated as Dustin turned on his flashlight, you and Steve stood behind him glancing back and forth to each other,

“Where’d everyone get those?” Steve asked noticing that everyone had one except you and him.

Dustin looked back at the both of you as if to say unbelievable, “Do you two need to be told everything? You’re not children.”

“Thank you.” You said under your breath a little, huffing as Dustin took his backpack off,

“Back pocket.” He was used to you both forgetting things like that, you were both usually good with weapons and things you might need, and everything you didn’t, but never flashlights. You really did need to be told.

Max pointed out a big grandfather clock, hoping that everyone else could see it taking you away from looking at the scattered furniture,

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” you asked looking at the hands that were still,

“Maybe he’s, like, a clockmaker or something?” Steve said next to you, as you pursed your lips actually thinking about it,

"I think you cracked the case, Steve.” Dustin chimed in, shaking his head in disapproval as you watched on, nudging Dustin slightly. Nancy told everyone to go in groups of two leaving you, Steve and a smiling Dustin. Steve let out a sigh and walked off signalling you to follow, “Was that a sigh?”

“No, I did not sigh.”

“Why’d you sigh?”

“I didn’t sigh. Just come on, dude.”

“I heard you.”

“We were just always partnered up with you, okay?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“It’d just be nice to, I don’t know, mix it up a bit.”

You continued to walk the stairs, creaking with every other step, as Dustin hurried up behind you, the pair of them starting to bicker a bit, a usual occurrence, “I’m boring to you? Is that it?”

“No it’s the opposite,” Steve added as he moved his (Dustin’s) flashlight around careful not to knock anything off the walls,

“Maybe me and Y/N should partner up and you go around this creepy house alone, is that what you want?” Dustin asked as Steve shot his head around almost tumbling back down the stairs,

“No! I don’t want that, sorry man.” Steve moved his hair that had fallen a little flat huffing once more. “We do make a good team, The Three Musketeers and all that.” You smiled at Steve’s remark, it was a book you both had to read when you were at school, though boring at the time, the lessons you learned from the book stayed with you. Chivalry, honour, heroics, and willingness. It was true. You, Steve, and Dustin probably had spent the most time together because even though you could both be a bit daft from time to time, you were both reliable and trustworthy with any problem Dustin had, even if that meant issues outside of the upside down. You both never found anything that Dustin had to say daft.

“Hey, uh, Henderson?” Steve asked, looking at the cobwebs that littered the place, “could you maybe, uh, clarify what sort of clues we’re supposed to be looking for here?”

“I second that,” you cut in,

“The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.” Dustin looked back at the both of you smiling, “Sherlock Holmes.” Seeing you both confused he huffed sincerely.

“That’s great. Thanks. That’s great. Really helpful” You huffed and shook your head, feeling dumb as Steve placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing his thumb slowly, a knowing glance only the both of you understood.

“You're not stupid, not to me anyway.” Steve smiled as a small laugh escaped your lips a small vent in the floor catching your eyeline as you walked over to it, “Y/N, let me.” Steve crouched down in front of you lifting the metal from the floor, jars of preserved insects had you grimacing before Steve shot up alarmed, shaking his arm and flailing his hand to get a spider off, both of you clumsily falling through cobwebs and the door, into Nancy,

“Hey, hey, both of you, stay still. Stop moving.” She took time to rid you both of cobwebs as she lightly dusted dust off your arm, you and Steve then looking over each other,

“It was a black widow.” Steve lets out a breath of air, calmer than he was before, “Don’t go in there.” He shut the door adverting his attention back to you, moving a stray piece of your hair behind your ear, kissing your nose lightly. “So uh, Nance. Maybe after we find Vecna, kill him, save the world, and stuff. Maybe we can all go out. You know? Me, Y/N, you, Jonathan, when he’s back.”

“I’d love to.” Nancy looked at you both endearingly, she was glad you both had each other. Everyone needed someone. She knew you both back in school, but never really spoke to either of you. She was too wrapped up in perfecting her grades, reading the next book on the shelf, but she was so thankful to be in your lives now.

Steve was finally with someone he could be himself around without feeling bad or awkward, even in this messed up world the both of you bounced off each other as though it were effortless. Although you were sometimes the biggest idiots, you were the biggest idiots in love.

#steve harrington #steveharrington/reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #steve harrington x reader #steveharringtonxreader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff

[abibliophobiaa]

Bad Idea - s.h. x f!reader

note: thank you to @crappymixtape for the initial prompt that started this fun little fic. <3

summary: steve happens upon you while you're reading a smutty book and chaos ensues.

warnings: oral (f receiving); p in v smut -- that's all, really (18+); barely edited, slightly rom-com vibes, so do not take this seriously (haha).

-

“I got a bad idea. How 'bout we take a little bit of time away?”

-

A fan blows in the distance. The low hum is a constant drone, offset by the sounds of your quiet breathing and the gentle turn of a yellowed page in your book. You’ve been sitting in your window nook for hours, the weather too hot outside to linger for too long. 

Your fingers halt on your current page, eyes glancing out your bedroom window. 

Summer burns bright outside. The sky is a bright blue, smiling down on all those who thrive beneath it, its golden sun winking on full display. Your bedroom window is parted enough to allow air to filter in, the sounds of birds chirping greeting your ears. Across the yard is the Harrington backyard. Their pool glints blue and bright beneath you, lounge chairs filled by his parents now back from whatever business trip they’d been on, glasses of champagne already in hand. 

Steve’s mother soaks up the sun, all long, lean legs, wide brim sun hat, oversized glasses, and the diamond ring on her finger that seems gargantuan even from here. You catch the sight of his father, stark dark hair like his son’s, leaning over to press a kiss to his wife’s lips before settling down on the chair beside her. 

Steve’s nowhere to be found, but you know that’s always the case when they’re home. He’s likely on an errand, trying to stay away from the home, trying to cut all interactions to a bare minimum. Because he’s twenty-two and still working at Family Video, he’s twenty-two and should have more in his savings, should be taking on the family business, should be thinking about his future, should be—

Your attention is drawn by the sound of children’s laughter. The neighbor’s kids have shoddily drawn a hopscotch grid onto the ground, the sound of their sneakers knocking against the warm concrete audible even over the low hum of the cars that slowly slide on past. 

And there, in front of your home, you catch the all too familiar sight of Steve’s BMW, and that pretty head of dark hair as he clambers out the driver’s side door, sunglasses perched atop the bridge of his nose. 

Your eyes return to your book, knowing you have approximately sixty seconds until he’s in your bedroom and making himself at home. The main characters, two best friends oddly enough, are about to finally cross over a line of no return. You’ve read it enough times to know what comes next. 

Nathan will tell Cora he loves her and she’ll tell him the same. He’ll grab her in his arms, pull her close, and kiss her until she’s breathless…

“Hey.” 

And there he is, all fitted denim and a striped tee shirt that shows off how generous the years have been to your best friend. Long gone are his gangly limbs of boyhood. Now he’s all corded muscle, finely hewn, high cheekbones, that lovely jaw, dark eyes and his goofy smile that has your heart somersaulting as he plops down against the sea of pillows near your headboard. 

“Hey,” you reply, eyes shifting back to your book. 

It’s not unusual to sit in silence like this. In fact, he pulls one of your Cosmopolitan magazines from your bedside table and glances down at the woman with gorgeously blown out hair, shifting over onto his stomach. You both read in silence, your ankles hooking over one another as the scene in your book changes and suddenly Nathan and Cora are kissing in the back seat of his car, a little hot and heavy, wild and dirty, groping hands starting to remove clothes. 

Your hand comes up to curl around the back of your neck, wiping at some of the sweat pooling there, both from the way Nathan’s hands slide underneath Cora’s shirt and slide along her breast, and the heat spilling in from outside. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, head lifting from whatever article he’s likely not even really reading, hair flopping with the suddenness of the gesture.  

You close the book for a moment, thumb holding your place, and offer him a nod. “Anything good in there? I don’t even know why my mom orders them; I don’t even read them.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t read this article on ‘Ten Ways to Please Your Man?’” He chuckles, turning the magazine to show you. “Really riveting stuff. I’ll cut this one out for you.”

“You’re such an ass,” you snap, though your voice breaks off into a laugh at the end. You never really can stay mad at him, not when he looks at you like a lost puppy in need of attention. All round dark eyes, elbows on your bed, lip jutting out just so. “Stop pouting. It’s not a good look—and don’t make any corny comments about how all your looks are good looks. Don’t you give me that face, I’ve known you since we were eight.” His look of incredulity falters, those lips of his curling into a smile because he knows you’re right. 

Your eyes drift back to your book, picking up right where you left off as Nathan’s fingers unbutton Cora’s jean shorts and he helps to slide them down her thighs, fingers exploring every new inch of exposed flesh. 

“Want to go to a movie tonight with Robin and Eddie? We all have off, might as well,” Steve muses, flipping the page of the magazine, and then flipping it again when he realizes it’s only ads for some clothing brand. “They want to see Dead Poets Society, and I remember you said you wanted to see it last week.”

Nathan’s fingers slide beneath the waistband of Cora’s underwear, asking for permission to touch her in a way no one else has. Your knees press together involuntarily, hand coming to rest over your swiftly beating heart, suddenly very grateful for the fan oscillating in the corner of your room. 

“Did you hear me?” Steve asks, rolling over onto his back. His head dangles upside down over the edge, face immediately growing red like a tomato, your head shaking at him. “I asked if you wanted to go to the movies with Robin and Eddie later.”

“Oh…” You swallow as Nathan’s fingers start a slow drag along Cora’s center, making her writhe and moan in the back seat of the car, the sun setting and bathing everything in pink and orange shades that dance along his skin with dappled light. “Y-yeah. Sounds good, Stevie. I’d love to.”

You settle back into a comfortable silence. Steve still hangs upside down, tossing a tennis ball you must have left on your floor up into the air from your brief stint trying to play. Couples tennis, minus the fact the two of you weren’t a couple. But he thought it would be funny, and you’d long decided you would give everything at least one chance before ruling it out. 

Your eyes drift back to the page, resuming where you left off, right when Nathan slides Cora’s panties down her thighs and asks if he can taste her. Your breath catches, and Steve rolls back over to look at you, brows furrowed high on his forehead in concern. 

“Are you okay over there? Seriously. You’re breathing all funny and you’re barely here right now as it is,” he worries his lip between his teeth, those dark eyes of his meeting yours from across the room. 

“I’m okay.” You glance down at your lap and tap your book. “You just walked in as things were picking up in my book.”

Maybe it’s not the right choice of words in retrospect. Maybe you shouldn’t have mentioned it at all and instead played it off like, yes, yes you were feeling a little under the weather because of the heat. But you don’t, and it’s the small fumble over your words that has Steve pushing himself upward to sit on the bed, head tipping lightly toward your floppy paperback. 

“What are you reading anyway?” 

“Nothing,” you mutter, sliding your bookmark into place. You press your book onto the cushion beside you, arms coming to curl around your body, shoulders shrugging. “Just a book.”

“You already said that,” he replies, throwing one foot over the edge of the bed, followed by the other. You shift further against your nook, your book sliding beneath a pillow as your hip bumps against it, obscuring it from view. “What kind of book is it?”

“Adventure,” you say quickly, turning a bit to meet him as those hands come to rest on either of your shoulders. “You haven’t hugged me today.”

“I know what you’re doing,” he says, but he appeases you anyway, his face inches from yours as he bends down to fold you against him. 

You hum against his chest, relishing in his warmth, when you ask, “And what is that?” 

“Trying to distract me.”

“I’m not distracting—”

Your words are cut off, because Steve’s hand reaches swiftly behind you to curl around the edge of your book and tug it close to his chest. The shriek you let out frightens even yourself as you rush after him, arms curling around his waist and sending him hurtling down against your bed. The book skitters toward your headboard, but that’s the least of your worries right now. 

The only thing terrifies you more than him reading the scene that comes after where you left off is the way you’re sitting on top of him. With a slow, horrifying clarity, you take in the room around you. Thighs splayed on either side of his hips, your hands pinning his arm closest to the book above his head, and his hands reflexively against your hips. His chest rises and falls steadily beneath your palms, those dark irises rounding around the edges, his fingers clutching into the belt loops on your shorts. 

You both look at each other in silent panic. Because this is your best friend. This is over ten years of friendship lying beneath you. It’s the boy who has seen you scrape your knees learning how to ride a bike, sat next to you on the swings at the park, was there for your first heartbreak. Because he’s the boy you were there for when it then happened to him with Nancy, the one you walked around town with after dark on a warm day with cups of ice cream in hand, the one you told everything to, who knew you best, the boy you snuck your first beer with, and fought off monsters from the Upside Down alongside. 

Luckily, he seems to come to the same revelation just as quickly, shoving you off him onto the mattress, hands coming to dance along your ribs until your sides hurt from laughing so hard. A foot comes out to kick him in the thigh when his hand slides out above you, and you hear the familiar slide of your paperback against a blanket. 

“Not fair!” You growl, watching him lean back on his haunches, book tucked into his shirt that he’s then tucked into his jeans. “That’s disgusting. You can keep it now. You’re sweaty.”

“I just showered.”

You huff. “Still. Why do you care about what’s in it so much?” 

“I wanna know what’s got your panties in such a twist,” he says. Your heart thuds in your ears, throat bobbing with a thick swallow. “Are your panties in a twist? Is that why you’re all out of breath?”

“Steve,” you warn, though there’s no malice in your tone, only hesitancy. You curse yourself inwardly. 

His voice drops into a whisper, “Is this a sexy book?”

You want to throttle him. Want to wrap your hands around his shoulders and shake the look of pure and utter delight off his smug features. Only you don’t. You sit there and watch as he slides off your bed and stretches his arms above his chest, which outlines the rectangle hiding against his skin all the more. 

It’s then you remember: Steve Harrington hates books. Hated them in high school so much that you had to always read them for him and give him your breakdown of what happened, and you know for a fact he hates them now. The likelihood that’ll change brings you some peace. Confidence rising, you lean back onto your palms, grinning widely up at him. 

“Movies at eight then?”

He arches a brow at your sudden shift in demeanor. “Uh…yeah, sure. I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.”

Everything will be just fine. 

-

Only it’s not. 

You learn quickly that, though Steve’s hated every book given to him thus far in life, he absolutely devours this one. 

There are certain fears that have always lingered in the back of your mind throughout the years. 

The first being the worry one day Steve would find out about your years-long crush you’ve had on him. The feelings that have lingered way longer than you ever intended for them to. And it’s not like you hadn’t tried to push them aside; you dated other people, put yourself out there, all to take your mind off of it. It always works…initially. That is, until he does or says something that has you falling all over again, wondering if he’d ever feel the same—wondering if he’s ever felt the same. 

But this isn’t a romcom movie, and not all stories like these end up in a relationship, and you had already accepted that…for the most part. If there’s any hope, it’s more like a small flame. A tiny flicker. Nothing noteworthy or remarkable to see here. 

Your second fear is the newest one. The fear that Steve would read the book you’d allowed him to sneak out of your house a week ago—actually read it—and unleash a new kind of petrifying hell on you and take actual pleasure in your demise. 

It starts over Eddie’s place. He’s got an apartment with Robin now, a dingy little place you’ve always thought they should move out of, but theirs all the same. Robin and Eddie are picking out a movie while you and Steve stand in the kitchen, getting various bowls and trays ready with chips, candy, popcorn, and drinks. 

Neither of you has said anything about the book catastrophe. That night, you’d gone to the movies as planned and even shared a soda together, your shoulder pushed against his like nothing even happened. You figured he’d torture you a bit, keep the book for a few days, and give it back with your bookmark exactly where you’d left it. 

But he still hasn’t returned it, and when you ask him for it in the middle of Eddie’s kitchen he only shrugs and says, “I’m actually reading it again. I think I skimmed it the first time; I want to make sure I take it all in. Every word, and, you know, every inch of it.”

You glance his way out the corner of his eyes. On a good day Steve’s odd, to say the least. It’s one of the many things that endears you to him and has made you love him as much as you do. Right now, however, he’s all flushed cheeks and wide smirks, looking very much like the cat who swallowed a canary. 

“Why are you smirking?” 

You shuffle about him to reach into one of the kitchen cabinets in search of a scissor. You snip the corner edge off of an M&M bag and pour some into a bowl, watching him the whole time. 

His smug self reaches down to grab a handful of your freshly pourn candies and plops a few into his mouth. You’re about to reprimand him when he moans around the mouthful, saying, “You taste so sweet, baby.”

Your throat dries. It’s worse than the Sahara Desert. Sandpaper slides across your vocal cords, your mouth opening and closing to try and form sentences. Words. Vowels. Anything would be better than the fish-like gape you’re left with, eyes widened in absolute horror. 

“What did you just say?” 

He turns to face you, his hip pressing against the countertop. Another M&M is lifted to his pursed lips, tongue sliding over it before pulling it into his mouth, his voice low as he repeats slowly, “You taste…so sweet…baby.”

Your eye twitch is your only response. 

Your personal hell gets worse, if that’s even possible, two days later. 

It’s a particularly balmy June day. Luckily, Steve’s parents are once again out of town, leaving the two of you behind to do whatever it is the hell you want to do. The both of you had settled on a pool day. Just the two of you lounging on floats, smelling of suntan lotion, your cherry chapstick freshly smacked against your lips, and soaking in the sun’s rays. 

You’re on a round float in particular, arms spread out beside you, fingertips dancing along the pool’s surface. Music blares from a speaker in the distance, your warm beers long forgotten near the lounge chairs covered in your colorful towels. 

You still don’t have your book back, but you can’t find it in yourself to ponder on it. Not like this, not with the water dancing along your skin, chilling your sweat-slick body, bobbing along the water without a care in the world. 

“Should I make burgers or hot dogs?” Steve asks when the sun starts to set a bit and the humidity in the air lessens. 

You slip down into your tube now, legs kicking in the water, arms propped up over the plastic edges. He treads water in front of you, hair slick against his head, face tanner than it was earlier that evening. He’s even got new freckles along his shoulders, dark against his golden skin.

“Can you do both?” You grin, reaching forward to poke at his cheek. “Please?”

“You’re lucky I like you,” he says, moving to go swim toward the shallow end of the pool where the stairs are. 

You’re lucky you’re holding onto a float, because you’re pretty sure you would have momentarily choked under the water at the sight of his form disappearing beneath the surface, long legs kicking in that red bathing suit. Those strong arms of his slice into the water, perfectly practiced motions from the summers he spent life guarding. 

You’re so rendered immobile by the sight you briefly forget it’s a scene that happens in your book. A moment when Cora realizes she’s physically attracted to her best friend. Only you differ from her in the fact that you’ve known Steve Harrington has been gorgeous for years. If that isn’t enough, though, when his body slowly walks up the stairs and he turns around to face you, your cheeks burn hotter than the sun could have ever warmed your skin. Because he slides a hand up onto his hair, bicep and abdominals rippling and on display. 

Is he moving in slow motion? No, he can't be. Can he? What the actual fuck is going on?

“I’m onto you, Harrington.” You drag a thumb along your throat in a warning. 

He only laughs and flexes his arm once more, asking innocently, “Whatever do you mean?”

You’re going to kill him. You’re going to actually have to kill him. 

Over the course of the next few days Steve ups his antics. 

It’s diabolical, you’ll give him that. 

You make a mental note to talk to Eddie about it, because the dramatic flair practically screams his influence. 

One of the days he wears a button up in the middle of your kitchen and offers to wash your dishes. Slides his sleeves up over his forearms so you can see all the tendons rippling as he moves (you almost pass out). Unbuttons the collar of his shirt complaining of heat to show that dark hair spattering his skin (you walk into the fridge).

Another day he takes your hand and dances with you like Nathan and Cora do in one of the chapters, spinning you round and round despite your initial protests, to something exceedingly romantic for your best friend’s tastes.

On the third, he accidentally brushes up behind you while you’re grabbing a board game from your closet and you feel the firmness of his chest against your back. You have to pray, something you haven't done in a long time, to keep yourself from doing something you might forever regret, because when did Steve get so muscular?

The fourth day brings soft serve ice cream, which is usually an innocent, non-sexual experience. Until, that is, Steve starts trailing his tongue along it. Little kitten strokes at first, long swipes through cream, the occasional slurp. And that’s all fine and dandy, something you can deal with, until he moans and you have to threaten him with the garden hose (after contemplating using it on yourself to cool off) because you’re not sure if you're about to combust into flame or kiss him square on the mouth and ask him to reenact his performance with the ice cream for real this time.

The fifth, while you’re minding your own business and actually trying to restock the tapes at Family Video, he plants dirty quotes from the book around the place. The two of you play games all the time. It gets you both into more trouble than you’d ever really like to share or admit, but this one is bolder, more evil than any that have come before it. 

You’re torn between loathing him and loving him more for it. 

And while you don’t particularly enjoy your job there, and really only use the pay to help you put yourself through college, you also don’t want to have to explain to Keith why there’s dirty talk written and hidden in parts of the building. You can picture him firing you already, fed up with Steve’s and your constant antics. 

In the break room. I want to taste you. 

Attached to the employee bathroom mirror. Let me hear those pretty sounds. 

On a back room shelf. You feel so good around me. Feel how deep I am? 

Inside one of the cup holders in your car (must have snuck that one while you’d been in the bathroom) I want you to fuck me so hard that I forget my name. 

He’s proud of himself, laughing whenever you make a point of ripping up the paper loudly in front of him, letting the shreds drop one by one into a trash can. In actuality, though, your insides are fluttering from the words he’s chosen and you don’t even want to think about the way your thighs clench together or how you feel wetness pool inside your panties, so you decide you need to do damage control. 

“So what you’re saying is he’s torturing you?” Robin asks at the conclusion of your debrief. 

Her and Eddie sit across from you on the couch, watching wearily as you practically burn a hole in the carpet from your constant pacing. It’s been like this for a half hour. You frantically tell them all the ways Steve’s been haunting your every waking moment. How you’re feeling things you’ve long since tried to suppress. 

You’re pent up. 

A rubber band ready to snap.

You’re just afraid of what happens when that moment comes. Afraid of what you’ll do, what you might want. 

You can’t voice it, let alone allow yourself to think it. 

It would be a bad idea. 

“Yes!” You nearly shriek, throwing your hands up in the air. 

“You two share a single brain cell, and it’s actually quite amusing,” Eddie says. 

It’s the only thing he’s said the whole evening, and you pause to whirl around and face him. “What did you say?”

“The two of you,” he says evenly, hooking an ankle over his knee. “Share a combined brain cell.”

“That’s rude,” you snap, narrowing your eyes. 

He laughs, glancing over to Robin. “Are the two of you ever going to, oh I don’t know, act on your feelings? I thought it was because of all the shit with the Upside Down. But we saved the world, remember? So what gives?”

“I’m not following…”

Robin interrupts, all wild hands and frantic speech. “You two dinguses like each other. And stop with the ‘we’re best friends’ bullshit you feed everyone. The two of you are dancing around each other and have been for years now. Why not…talk it out and see what happens? You’re clearly feeling some sort of way over this weird little game the two of you are playing this week.” 

But the two of you are best friends. You’re not Nathan and Cora. That kind of stuff happens in your books. Those fated relationships, destined to be at a young age. 

You know how to separate fact from fiction. 

Steve and you are fact, and you don’t want to dabble in fiction when it comes to him.

Right…?

-

Tears for Fears blares through the speaker system, Family Video empty save for the two of you. The ‘OPEN’ sign on the door has already been flipped to ‘CLOSED.’ You’re meant to be going through new releases for Keith and unpacking them from the boxes laid out in the back room. He’s already told you where he wants them placed, which movies to arrange on certain shelves for different occasions. 

Your pencil scratches along paper, calling out the names of movies to Steve, crossing out a box to confirm you received all the titles the business was expecting. It’s tedious, and you’d rather be doing just about anything else, but it takes your mind off the tension swirling in your gut over your ‘Steve situation.’

Neither of you have spoken in a bit. More so because you don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to address the elephant in the room: the fact you like him, want him, and have been struggling to remind yourself that this game you’re playing is only a game. It’s a dangerous line to walk, even scarier to tread. On one side, the safety of friendship, and on the other is the unknown. 

So you return to your tapes, the shadowed in boxes, the methodical strokes of pencil against paper. It’s another ridiculously warm day. You curse the shoddy air conditioning system Keith never calls in to get fixed, hands sliding down the sides of your skirt, grateful for the slight breeze that tickles your ankles with every movement. If Steve’s warm, he says nothing of it, only picks up the pace with going through the inventory and closes up the box once you’re finally done. 

“We just need to double check the back room is clean and then we can lock up,” he says. Your head lifts abruptly, having gone so long without hearing his voice it almost shocks you. 

“Oh, yeah. Right. Coming,” you tell him, clipping your pencil to the board and sliding the whole thing onto the shelf beneath the counter. 

Steve’s shoving the box onto a wooden table when you join him, your eyes doing a cursory scan about the room to make sure everything looks to be in its proper place. What you don’t expect to see, however, is your book resting in your pocketbook on the chair you left it atop of. 

Steve follows the line of your gaze and chuckles. “Figured it was about time I gave it back.”

You lift the tattered old thing in one hand and flip through the pages. He’s moved the bookmark all the way to the back, and you know he’s read the whole thing. Satisfied with its condition, you tuck it back into where it belongs and lean against the wooden table, palms curling around the edge as you shift to face him. 

“You done teasing me?” You ask pointedly, head tipping to the side with a little smirk. “Even I have to admit that was a cruel game.”

“Why was it cruel?” He steps closer, the already small room shrinking even further.

“You were making fun of me.”

“No I wasn’t. I liked the book,” he admits, the corner of his lip twitching upward. “I just had one question the whole time I was reading it.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” You’re genuinely curious, leaning back further against the table. 

Steve takes another step closer, dark hair bouncing with each movement, those eyes dark and kind. “You’ve written down all the dates you read the thing in the front. So I assume it’s your favorite. Why is it your favorite?”

It’s…not a bad observation. If anything, it has your blood burning a bit, heart starting to flutter faster in your chest. Still, you keep your cool, shrugging your shoulders in reply. 

“Come on now, since when do we keep things from each other?” 

His hand drops down onto the wood beside your hip, his chest nearly pressing to your knees where you sit. Your feet kick mindlessly back and forth, brushing against his shins, skirt fluttering around you. 

“I like the plot,” you admit, popping the 'p' for emphasis, trying to look anywhere but his face as you continue, “I like the idea of two people who already know each other trying to see if there’s more between them.”

“Cora and Nathan are best friends.” It’s not a question, but a fact. You nod, watching his other hand drop onto the other side of your hip. “Is that why you got all hot and bothered in your bedroom? Why those notes made you squirm?”

“Don’t be an asshole.” You cross your arms over your chest. “It’s a book.”

“Is that all it is?” He asks, looking into your eyes with an unfamiliar intensity. You want to hide from it, but it dredges up something new in you. Something bold and dizzying. “If it’s just a book, tell me that’s all it is and we’ll close up and go home.”

You don’t say anything for a while. 

How could you? How could you admit that the reason it’s your favorite is because it’s about two best friends falling for one another? How could you admit you dreamed and hoped maybe one day it would be your reality with him? How could you admit you wanted to taste him, touch him, feel him for years now? 

Steve moves to head back toward the main room when you make your choice. 

“Steve?” 

He whirls around on the spot, eyes searching your face. He rushes back over to where you’re sitting. Your hands slide up tentatively into his, testing the weight of them in your palms. 

You exhale a deep breath, “Kiss me?”

There’s no moment of question. No hesitance behind his gaze when he curls a palm around the side of your face and swoops down to kiss you soundly on the lips. It’s not slow and sweet like in the many movies you’ve seen and books you’ve read. Instead it’s an urgent, hurried thing. His hands slide around your hips and draw you closer to him, your thighs parting to make space for him, mouths licking into one another hungrily, years of pent up emotion spilling into the spaces between you. 

It’s a nip of his bottom lip here, the gasp from you when his mouth slides along your cheek in search of your jaw, sucks below your ear in a way that has you clutching at his shoulders, dragging him closer. Fingers pinch into skin. Frantic hands slide over your Family Video vest, his mouth forming the quiet question of “Can I?” And your head is nodding, heart thundering. He slips it free from your form and touches at the hem of your shirt hesitantly. 

“You can touch me,” you rasp out, hands clutching around the edge of the table. A callused palm slides up and along your skin, dances along the curve of your breast, right over the rapid thrum of your heart. “Stevie…”

He’s kissing you again, hand sliding out from underneath your shirt and instead rucking up the sides of your skirt. A gust of cold air hits the tops of your thighs as he bares you to him. You watch those fingers that have held you all these years, have tended your wounds, soothed away your worries, drag along your flesh. Up over the curve of your thigh, the curve of your hip, and down again. 

“I want you to touch me, Steve. I want you,” you whisper against his ear, curling an arm around his shoulder and shuddering into the side of his neck. Those fingers slip down the front of your panties and trail a dangerous path from your slick center to your clit, teasing lightly, circling where you want him most. 

He hums pleasantly. “This all for me, pretty girl?” He’s smiling to himself at your quiet cry, tracing the same pattern once more before dropping down onto his knees to help you slide them down and off your legs. “Are you sure?”

“Pleas—” Your voice breaks off into a moan. That taunting mouth of his licks a deadly path from your entrance to that sensitive nub, rendering you at his mercy. He slides one of your thighs up and over his shoulder, the other held out to open you further to him. “Just like that, just like that.”

He licks into you, murmuring into your skin about how he’s wanted you like this for years. Dirty sounds of your slick meld together with your gasps and whimpers, fingers reaching down to grasp at hair, tugging hard, hips grinding involuntarily into his face. 

“Steve!” Your head falls back at the white hot flash behind your eyes when that first finger slides in all the way to the knuckle, a sinful slide in and out of you that has you craving more. More fullness, more something, more Steve, until you’re whining pathetically. The second finger joins the first, stretching and sliding against skin, working in tandem with the flat of his tongue against your clit. 

You come with a cry of his name, body bowing over the top of his head, fingers a tangle against his scalp. He continues to lick and pump into you through your orgasm, his other hand holding tight against your hip you’re sure you’ll have bruises come morning. But you don’t care. You don’t care at all. You grip the front of Steve’s shirt and drag him upward to your mouth, tasting yourself on him. His tongue glides over your own, moans mingling in the spaces between you. 

Your hands work on his jeans next, needing more of him, his mouth moving languidly over yours. Shaky hands slide the button through the hole, fingers pushing down the zipper, the desperate wiggle of fabric down his thighs so he can kick himself out of them. You waste no time sliding him out of his boxers, hand pumping him once, twice, before he’s sliding on a condom fished from his wallet and asking you how you want him. 

It’s how you end up sliding down to the edge of the table, his fingers dipping into your slick heat, still sensitive from your orgasm, his cock straining against your hip when he drops down to kiss you once more, whispering, “Are you sure? Need your words, pretty girl.”

“I want you…I’ve wanted this, Steve.” 

You feel him nudge at your entrance, so full and thick it has your eyes rolling slightly at the first delicious stretch. Your arm curls around his shoulder to drag your chests closer, gasps mingling, the hand curling around your hip gripping tighter while he sinks inch by inch into you until he’s buried to the hilt.

He rocks slowly against you at first. A slow, torturous drag in and out. In and out. Until you’re whimpering steadily into the quiet room, ankle curling around a hip, drawing him closer. Always closer. It’s a slow build up. Face pressed into his chest, hips rolling in tandem with his, relishing in his sounds rumbling deep within his chest. 

It’s Steve, you remind yourself. 

Steve, your best friend in the world, rocking into you, chasing your peaks together. He's whispering how pretty you are, how good you feel, praising you. He murmurs ‘good fuckin’ girl’ against your mouth when your head shifts and you kiss him greedily, a messy tangle of lips, tongue and teeth. 

“Faster, Steve,” you plead, eyes pinching shut. 

His hips snap harder against yours, his grunts and groans filling the space, driving the table to knock against the wall, sending the box of new inventory hurtling to the ground. Neither of you can be bothered with it, hands clutching against clothes, mouths tangling, wet skin slapping against skin, lurching closer and closer to the edge.  

Steve’s laying you back against the table, chest crawling over your own, mouth like a brand against yours, your hair fanning around your head. He curls a forearm under your lower back, tilting your hips, the new angle hitting that part of you over and over and over again that makes your vision grow white around the edges. Your whimpers of his name spurring him on, your thigh crooked over one of his elbows, drawing him closer, deeper. 

Steve comes seconds after you do, face red and chest heaving, gasping at the way your body clenches around him. Kisses you in between broken cries of his name falling from your pretty lips. 

Your thigh slides back down from around his elbow. The other thigh slowly drops back down against the wood, skirt bunching indecently around your hips, his chest heavy against yours. Your fingers come up to brush along his hair, humming when he leans over to kiss you once, twice, and then slides off of you, your body immediately missing the feeling of being full of him. 

You dress and clean in silence. Little awkward chuckles spilling here and there as he helps you slide your underwear back on, head disappearing beneath your skirt to teasingly nip at the inside of a thigh. Your hands help to smooth his unruly hair back into place. It’s a gentle slide of fingers together when you both make your way out to his car and slip inside, the cheeky grin from him when he leans over the center console and smacks a kiss against your cheek, making your skin burn ablaze. 

“Want to go get food? Maybe a milkshake,” he suggests, curling a hand around his steering wheel. “On me.” 

“Like a date?” You muse, watching his hand curl around your own to draw your palm to his lips for a slow kiss into the center. 

“If you want it to be.”

-

Steve and you open up at Family Video the next day. 

Your late night plans the day before in hindsight may not have been the best idea either of you had in a while, but seeing him early that next morning with his sunglasses perched on his face and his lips eagerly seeking yours over the center console had made it worth it. 

You’d spent the evening huddled over a basket of fries, talking about your feelings, about giving things a try, constantly touching. Hands, cheeks, shoulders, legs. You craved it all, this new need to be attached at all times, butterflies fluttering in bellies, grins tugging at faces. Later it had been chocolatey milkshake kisses under the stars at Lover’s Lake, a new world of exploration at your fingertips. 

Presently, Robin and Eddie mill about in the distance, looking for a movie for your usual Friday night in, the two of them calling various movie titles over to where you and Steve work behind the countertop. 

“How about Heathers?” Eddie asks, just as Keith barrels out of the back room, looking red in the face and on a mission. 

“Looks like you two—” he points between you and Steve. “—did some rearranging in the back room last night. That wall you dented and then tried to hide behind the table, however you managed that, I don’t know…but yeah, you’ll be paying for it. And the stack of movies on the floor? If any are busted, I’ll dock both your pay for them as well. Count your lucky stars I’m not firing you both.” 

He’s gone back the way he came, leaving you standing beside Steve, your mouths open, eyes rounded in fear. 

Steve mouths, “We forgot to clean up the movies…”

You turn into his chest to hide, mortification burning your face. 

Robin and Eddie smirk, high-fiving amidst the movie displays. 

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#steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #steve harrington imagine #my writing #luna's writing

[bangaveragewhitewine]

soft slow, morning glow

Steve Harrington x Reader

A prosaic peek at Steve Harrington’s inability to sleep in and stay in bed and his reasons for changing his ways. 

October 1997; a cosy easy morning, where kisses are shared and ABBA songs are sung as a lullaby.

Word count: 4.3K

Content/Warnings: TW for talk of bleeding during pregnancy, borderline neglectful parents. 

Mention of sex (18+), not explicit. This contains dad!Steve & mom! reader toward the end; pregnant reader. Kinda rambling. Very soft. Low angst (but not none).

Note: Thank you to my ST rewatch for making me fall for Steve all over again. 

Proofread by @specialagentmonkey | Divider by @silkholland

Steve Harrington was always an early riser. 

As a honey-haired little boy, he spent Saturday mornings on the sofa watching cartoons with the volume dialled low as his parents slept. He knew not to make a mess with the cereal, or the milk, rewarded with a stack of pancakes or a new toy for keeping himself amused as Richard and Katherine Harrington slept off the previous evening’s dinner party hangover. 

Always the first awake at sleepovers, he would wait with bated breath for Tommy to stir or feign a sneeze to wake him. 

He never had to be dragged from bed to go to school during the week, always up and at ‘em to go see his friends, play tag and swap baseball cards on the playground. 

As a sporty and popular teenager, he started running when he didn’t have early swim practice or basketball. Steve rose with the sun and waved to his neighbours politely as his shiny sneakers slapped the pavements of Loch Nora. 

He was never sure what he was running from, or towards, but the burn of chilly morning air in his lungs made him feel alive. 

When he started going to house parties and hangouts on Saturday nights, his Sundays still started early, dragged to show face at his parent’s church. It was less about faith and god and all about appearances. He snuck out of bedroom windows, hopped white picket fences as the sun rose, fought hangovers as the priest’s voice droned and caught the eyes of pretty girls from the convent school a town over - they always blushed when he smiled at them or dropped them a sly little wink as the collection plate was passed around. 

When his parents started travelling more, after the shortlived re-commitment to the church, Steve’s Sunday morning hangovers were kept at bay with cold swims in the pool or hot coffee and loud music in the kitchen as he tried and failed to focus on homework.  

Steve started working right out of school as punishment for unsubmitted college applications and lower-than-predicted grades. He volunteered for the opening shifts in Scoops Ahoy and Family Video - he liked the responsibility and having a purpose, having an excuse to be out of the house before his parents could tutt and fuss and lecture him. It was easier when they weren’t there; when the office in Indy needed Richard’s attention more than his wife and son did, when Katherine spotted smears of lipstick on his collars again and insisted she spend some time with him in the city apartment. 

In their absence, the Harrington house was a mausoleum of failure that Steve couldn’t bear to be in. So he raised his hand for early delivery shifts and stock takes and drove his friends to school when he didn’t have to, already awake after another night of nightmares, memories of flying fists. 

Steve Harrington rose early and burned bright; burned out quickly when he realised he didn’t know what to do with himself or what his purpose was. 

He filled his time with making himself useful to other people, chasing and seeking a purpose or a person to fill the gaps and spaces in his chest; the hollows once reserved for the people who didn’t return the outpouring of love he offered so freely, so innocently. He found and made a rag-bag bunch of friends, a found family, who returned the love he deserved in the ways they knew how. Woven and knotted friendship bracelets, squished candy bars, mixtapes, weed sold and rolled at buddy rates or for nothing at all.

Steve Harrington moved to the city with his best friends; a Beemer and a battered van filled with boxes and suitcases. The early morning drive made Steve Harrington glow golden in the rising sun, his excited eyes hidden behind dark-tinted sunglasses as Robin Buckley snored in the passenger seat and Eddie Munson listened to metal at an ear-bleeding volume in his van and flipped Steve off with that big grin in the rearview mirror. They stopped for strong coffee and sweet pancakes and started a new chapter in the city. 

When you fell in love with Steve in 1990, he found a reason to stay in bed a little longer. A reason to slow down, soak up the sunshine glow you shone on him. 

You spent Saturday nights with friends, a patchwork group cheering on Corroded Coffin and selling T-shirts and tapes at a merch table when they scored a bigger venue and a bigger crowd. Movie nights and takeout Chinese food and a stack of new and old movies from Blockbuster. Date nights at swanky bars and restaurants, with flickering candles and pizza on the way home because you didn’t want the night to end yet. You spent hours in bed together, night and morning, talking about everything under the rising sun and dwindling moon, learning about each other’s life and mapping each other’s body with kisses and gentle touches. 

In the morning he gazed at your sleepy softness and took his own pulse to make sure he wasn’t dying. No heart attack, just falling in love.

He brought you cups of coffee and sweet pastries from the bakery a block away when his limbs felt restless. He always got back into bed with you to cuddle and while away the morning without a moment wasted. With Steve, those mornings were syrupy slow; he worshipped you between your thighs and held your hands as the headboard bashed against the wall.

You became Mrs. Steve Harrington in the spring of ‘94. 

A small wedding. A big party for your friends. A honeymoon week where every morning felt like a perfect lazy Saturday.

When Steve found his reason to stay in bed, together you created a reason that kept you from it. 

Bethany Rose Harrington. Born June 21st 1995. 

Beth had her Daddy’s eyes and her Mama’s nose, and the sweetest little dimples in her smiley pink cheeks. She was her Daddy’s little doughnut, her Mama’s little bee. She inherited Steve’s charm and wrapped her extensive collection of doting uncles and aunts right around her tiny finger. She took after you in the way that Steve was completely and utterly in love with her. 

Just like her Dad, Beth liked to start the day early. After a few weeks of seeking out and settling into a routine, Steve spent the earliest part of the day feeding his little Bethie her bottle of milk in the cosy armchair nestled in the corner of her pale yellow nursery. As he watched her big brown eyes gaze and blink, felt her tiny fist wrap around his finger, Steve decided that these were the happiest mornings of his life. 

On those soft and slow mornings, you could hear Steve’s low murmur to your little girl through the baby monitor when his excitement to see her gummy smile or stop her sad fat tears bypassed the off-switch. You fell back asleep to the sound of Steve telling Beth about how the Cubs and the Bulls (their teams now) were doing this season, or about the walk in the park you were going to go on once ‘beautiful mama’ was awake. He sang to her; never typical lullabies, Queen and ABBA and Dusty Springfield. 

Steve basked in the joy of her little smiles, soaked in the soft cooing noises as Beth found her voice to talk back to her Daddy. When she fell asleep again, milk-drunk with her cheek against his heartbeat, Steve watched the morning sky shift and brighten and listened out for the sound of your waking time. The soft thud and shuffle from bed to bathroom, running water, your yawn and stretch, the gentle steps to seek and find him and your little treasure. You filled reams of camera film, documenting Steve as a Dad, your little girl's first weeks and months. Lit by morning light, by afternoon sun and the shade of the tree in your yard, and dusky nighttime lit by nightlights.

When your laundry list of chores allowed it, you took one of your three options on those mornings of parenthood - take turns to bask in the warmth of lavender and milk-scented baby cuddles while the other showered; bring the sleeping beauty back to your bed to gaze at the ten fingers and ten toes you had created together; or leave the sleepy and full-tummied grub to sleep in her crib again to spend the slow dawn hours holding each other and trading kisses, and knotting yourselves up in the sheets together once the doctor gave you the all-clear and a prescription for birth control. 

You did plenty of all three. 

Summer turned to Autumn, then Winter, and Steve balanced being a father and husband with keeping a roof over your heads and the final year of his programme to get his qualification to become a guidance counsellor. His mornings with Beth were part of his routine, leaving her smiling and drooly for you when he kissed his girls goodbye. Missing him during full days of supervised sessions and hours in the college library when he wasn’t in classes bonded you and Beth, thick as thieves and lovestruck for the golden Harrington boy-turned-man. You made sure that he never missed a moment with how many pictures you took, and Beth saved all of her firsts for when he was home. You coached her to say ‘dada’ in Steve’s absence and he sobbed happy tears when she parroted it back. (He had been coaching her to say ‘mama’ during their early mornings together).

Your late nights of talking turned to early-to-bed nights, sleeping when the baby slept and when your little home was some semblance of clean and tidy. Steve fell asleep to the sound of Bethie’s breath on the monitor, your heart under his cheek and the soft stroke of your fingers in his hair, along the length of his arm. 

Both of you were exhausted. Neither of you had ever been happier. 

When he graduated in the Summer, you and Beth cheered and clapped for your golden boy along with his best friends - the loudest bunch in the college auditorium. A picture of the Harrington trio - Steve in his shirt and tie and graduation gown balancing a smiley baby and his degree as you kiss his cheek and tickle Beth’s tummy for the camera - was placed with pride on his desk when he started a counsellor job that landed in his lap in the late summer of ‘96. He coached basketball two afternoons a week on the side; it was perfect for him.

You go back to work part-time and you balance taking care of Beth and each other with the utmost care. With help from your family and Steve’s trust fund from the Harrington’s, you make it work. You are what he holds dear, pride of place in the centre of his chest, once vacant and hollow. The gaping space he yearned to fill with the wrong friends, the wrong girls, watery beer and too many cigarettes. 

By the Fall of ‘97, Steve had learned to sleep again. Sleep when the baby sleeps. Enjoy your days off. Enjoy every moment. He is. He’s so tired but never happier. 

This morning, you wake first. 

Your little house in the Chicago suburbs is bathed in autumn darkness on a lazy Saturday.  Six a.m. and Steve snores peacefully. 

Beth is silent, dreaming of her two favourite things: fairies and pancakes. That top five list favourites is rounded out by her Daddy and Mama and Mrs. Murphy’s orange cat that visits the backyard. 

The littlest Harrington is an early bird too, twirling in your tummy beneath Steve’s protective hand. Until Steve can take the morning shift, you are the early riser.

Beth is your sleepy little dreamer, she loves her bed like her Mama. She sneaks in between you and Steve (and the bump now too) when she wakes too early; you spend those mornings gazing and counting fingers and toes again like when she was a tiny thing. 

This baby however seems to take after her father’s love of sport, the way she practices the aim and strength of her kicks on your bladder. You don’t officially know yet (they were less than cooperative at the last ultrasound), but you know it’s a girl. Steve swayed to boy for a day or two before realising you were right. Maybe next time… 

The flush and sigh-groan from your aching back pulls Steve from sleep. When you pad back in from the little bathroom, he’s just about upright and wild-haired. 

“Y’okay?” Eyes swollen with sleep, he reaches blindly for you to help you back into the cosy nest of blankets. 

“Mm, needed to pee.” 

You try to keep your cold feet away but Steve sandwiches them between his own size fourteen and always warm feet. His lips brush your shoulder and the back of your neck when you settle into a comfortable position; Bump dictates what will suffice as ‘comfortable’ and settles under her father’s comforting hand. Harrington’s magic touch is famed in your home; settling gassy babies and working out knotted shoulders, fixing leaky faucets and carrying all of the groceries inside in two heavy handfuls, making shadow-puppet shows on the bedroom wall and holding back your hair when you’re not well. 

Slowly, small-spooned by Steve’s bigger body, you drift again. Sleep comes and goes like an inconsistent tide, and you are anchored safely in his arms. Baby names ebb and flow into your tired head and you wish Steve was awake to tell you what he thought of ‘Heather’ or ‘Ava’. Whether your (very slow) re-read of Little Women was influencing you too much to ‘Josie’. You wonder about how much candy you should get for the trick-or-treaters, and whether Beth will be too scared to help you answer the door to them this year. 

You wish he was awake - because you always wish your every waking moment was spent with Steve Harrington - but you’re so glad he is sleeping soundly, snoring sweetly behind you. You wish you could take more responsibility, take the pressure he puts on his own shoulders from him, but this pregnancy is less easy than the first and you hate that you can’t do it all anymore. You take solace in the fact that Steve is asleep, not awake worrying or nesting. 

Turning in his sleepy hold, you place his hand back on the bump to keep the littlest Harrington settled and content, and watch your handsome husband look like the teenager you wish you had known. You map the laughter lines instead of the ones etched by worry, counting the happy memories (which are insurmountable) as you fall back to sleep with him at last. 

Sleeping Beauty herself slumbers on until almost 8 a.m., meaning that both you and Steve sleep until almost 8 a.m. too - later on you will toast coffee (decaf for you) over that parent win. For the next few months, the weekends mean Steve will be hitting snooze on his body clock when the chances arise. 

This morning Beth’s little voice sings his name down the hall. Steve wakes with a smile and kisses your sleepy face as you stretch and peel your eyes open. 

“You’re up, Coach.” Your voice is a tired yawn, mumbled into the fluffy duvet Steve untangles himself from.

“Bring her in for cuddles please.” You pout for a tired kiss and hum happily when he grants your wish. 

Steve’s ankles crack as he walks from your room to Beth’s. She’s wide awake and wild-haired, matching her Dad, and she sits up in her bed with her bunny-teddy clutched in her fist. 

“Hi bumblebee,” he gasps, his tiredness swept away by his genuine joy to see her. Steve lays down on her too-small-for-him baby bed and pretends to get comfy to sleep again. “Sleepover?” he asks, opening his arm for her. 

“Nooooo, yo’bed!” Her sweet voice crackles with sleepiness and the remnants of a cold she picked up as the seasons changed. 

In the warmth of your bed, you can hear the mini-eye-roll she’s giving her Dad as he plays up to her dramatics. Uncle Dustin has a lot to answer for. 

“Bethie,” you call from your nest, “I miss you.” 

Steve watches with barely restrained amusement as her face beams bright like sunshine before leaving him in the lurch to seek out Mama. “Hey! What about me?!” 

You can hear his grumbling as he hauls himself up from the tiny toddler bed but your focus is the bundle of sunshine that bounds her way to your room in her sky-blue jammies. Pushing messy hair from her face, she squeaks happily as you lift her before Steve can beat you to it. You didn’t want another moment apart from your girl and she burrows against your chest under the toasty-warm duvet. 

“Morning Betty Boop.” You press kisses to her smiling face and hear Steve stomp and flop back into the room and into the bed. 

“Is Daddy not invited to this love-in? Just for Mama and Beth?” he asks, scowling at your smushed-together faces. 

You cuddle Beth and stroke her back as the girl shifts her impish gaze to Steve. “What do you think, Betty? Kisses for Dada?”

She can never ever resist him and reach-grabs out to be gathered in his big strong arms for kisses and cuddles. 

Steve lights up, features relaxing from his feigned annoyance, as he gives and receives morning kisses. You are gathered up alongside the titch of a girl and with her help, you smother kisses all over Steve’s happy face. 

“Never ever not invited to the love-in, my love.” You kiss his shadowed jaw once and tuck yourself under his arm. 

“Kiss d’baby?” Beth’s messy head pops up and looks at you hopefully. 

“You wanna say good morning to Baby?” Steve asks, and she nods. “Mama?”

“I think she’s asleep, but I bet she’ll wake up when she hears Big Sis and Dada.” Beneath the pitched tent of the duvet, you lift Steve’s t-shirt and present the rounded bump for inclusion in the morning love-in.

Beth has been immensely eager to meet her baby since she took notice of your bump and realised the new baby was actually in there.

The little girl’s pillow-soft cheek rests against the curve as she hugs around your middle. “Moh’nin, baby.” Her little voice is still a little stuffed up, nasal. 

Your heart and tears swell as you watch her with Steve, who kisses the bump and murmurs hello. You’re at that point of pregnancy where you could cry when the wind changes and you cover your eyes so Beth won’t go out in sympathy-tears with you. 

Steve’s big hand squeezes your hand as he distracts Beth, who babbles in toddler talk to her sibling. His eyes are wide and worried as he looks up and sees the hitch of your chest. He’s had that worried look since you bled at ten weeks and the doctor put you on bed rest, just three weeks into actually knowing you were pregnant. Everything has settled bar your hormones and emotions; two perfect heartbeats, an active healthy baby, a happy but tired Mom. Steve is more scared now than he was with Beth but pretends to be brave for you.

You swipe at your hot tears, dry your hand in your t-shirt before reaching down to stroke through Steve’s thick hair. 

“M’okay.” You give him a watery smile. “She’s just… so sweet, Stevie.” 

Moving up to lie along your side, Steve wipes your cheek and presses a kiss to the trail of the tears left behind. “Sweetest. Sweet Bee. Feelin’ okay?” 

His hand stays on top of your bump and then passes over Bethany’s bedhead when she looks up curiously. 

Seeing that she is missing out, Beth decides she has had enough and wants to cuddle with you instead of the baby who won’t kick back hello. She wiggles up to lie on Steve’s chest, little fingers poking into the freckles and moles as he pulls the duvet back around you all like a cosy cocoon. 

“Feeling good. You okay?”

Steve has tucked away his worry again, but you still see the pinch in his brow - though the curious little fingers might be the reason for that. 

“Peachy.” He chases the poking fingers with a growling kiss, pulling a shrieking giggle from Beth. “Hello, can I help you? Why are we poking Daddy this morning, huh?” 

You giggle with Beth and kiss where her fingers had pressed, modelling the gentle sweetness you know she possesses in multitudes. “Poor Daddy. See, Betty? Gentle kissies.” A kiss is snuck onto his mouth for good measure. 

“Daddy,” Beth sing-songs, patting his cheek lovingly. 

“Bethie,” Steve sings back to her, echoing her melody. He accepts a wet baby-kiss as you curl close to them both.

You twirl a finger in the messy wave of her hair. “What will we do today? Do you want to get some library books? Or we could… go to the park?” 

Steve pats her back gently. “Oh wow. All the possibilities, huh?” His lips press to Beth’s forehead as she cuddles up to him, her fingers distracted by the gold chain he wears around his neck. “Gentle, please.” He kisses her head again and looks at you. “We can do both… Go get a t-r-e-a-t?” 

You smile and nod, covering Steve’s hand on Beth’s small back. “I like t-r-e-a-ts. What do you want to do, big guy?” 

Steve’s fingers slot with yours. His lips brush your head as you share his pillow - the firm one to help with his neck pain. “Just be with you two. Could stay right here all day and I’d be the happiest guy.” 

You press your nose against his cheek and close your eyes; you’re both surrounded by your favourite people, it is utter bliss. 

“I love you.” Your voice is soft and tired against his stubbly jaw. 

“Love you. So much, babe.” 

Steve tilts his head so you can share a morning-breath-be-damned kiss. He wishes he had woke up sooner, before the wide-eyed toddler, so that he could have showered you with kisses, made out like teenagers (despite the baby bump between you). 

“No! Me!” The frustrated little whine makes you smile apologetically to each other, chancing one more peck before you both look to scowling Beth. 

“Sorry, Bee. Mama’s too delicious for me to resist.”

“Steve!” you tuck your face in his neck as you laugh, an affectionate headbutt. 

“What? The kid’s gotta know.”

The two-year-old smushes her face to her Dad’s chest, still too little to comprehend her Dad’s silly banter when she just wants to be the centre of both of your attention. You have a few months left to figure that out before the baby arrives, but it scares you that she might feel like she’s not the best thing that ever happened you (bar her Dad, of course). 

Your pout matches hers and you push back the stinging Mom Guilt Tears. She is only coaxed away with sweet little cheek-kisses from you as you hum-sing Take a Chance on Me (accompanied by Steve’s tapping fingers on her back ‘take a chance, take a chance, take a, take a chance-chance.)

The girl's smile splits her frustrated face, a quiet giggle as she is serenaded by her current favourite song (you have just got I Was Made For Lovin’ You out of your head after Steve had introduced her to KISS in the car). Her little arm hooks around your head as you whisper how much you love her, soft voice tickling her ear and cheek. 

Beth’s laughter coaxes a fluttering kick against your belly, which Steve feels against his side as you spoon against him. He wears the same wide-eyed joy on his face every time he has felt your babies kick. 

“Oo, she’s awake again. Finally joining the party.” You rest your hand against the side of your rounded belly and telepathically tell the tiny one how much you love them too, how you can’t wait to meet them but please stay in there until they’re fully cooked and ready. 

Steve’s free hand - the one not keeping Beth upright as she sits up on his torso - joins yours and echoes your telepathic communication to the littlest Harrington - I love you, I can’t wait to hold you, please stay safe in there and be nice to your Mom. 

His wide palm on your bump settles the fluttering before she aims her kick right against it Hi Dad! Okay, Dad!

You share a secret little smile with him and kiss his cheek as his eyes shimmer before rolling onto your achy back, feeling the satisfaction of the pop and crack as your spine relaxes against the mattress. Steve’s hand stays on your belly, and you hug his arm to your chest, as Beth sings her toddler-babble version of an ABBA mashup for you both from her throne. 

Steve’s face hurts from smiling as he listens to her, hears some semblance of the lyrics in Beth-speak. He doesn’t remember mornings like this with his parents, few and far between were the times he was even allowed to cuddle with them in bed on a weekend morning.

You glance at his face, watching shifting emotions come and go as he remembers, tries to forget and focuses on the memories being made right now in your cosy nest of a bed. You squeeze his arm and hold his hand on your belly - matching gold wedding rings clicking against each other as your fingers intertwine. 

Steve squeezes your hand, three pulses. There is simply nowhere he would rather be. 

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington character study #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington x f!reader #prosaic fic #bangaveragefics

[lostalioth]

𝐬𝐨𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝

→ premise: he only intended to check on you you, he didn’t however plan on you exacting your revenge for him throwing you in the pool at that very moment. though it works out in the end to finally break the thick lingering tension between you two.

→ pairing: s1!steve harrington x fem!reader

→ warnings: 2.3k words, smut | 18+, unprotected sex, shower sex, fingering, edging, semi-drunk sex, underaged drinking they are described as drinking but they are a bit drunk/tipsy, season 1 steve harrington and so tommy and carol are in it, Y/N IS USED ONCE, nicknames [baby, cutie], description of wet clothes

→ a/n: 05 kinktober

“Ahhh Steve noo please!” You squeal and heat washes over your body, your skin burns where Steve's hands are gripping your waist. His touch sends butterflies to start violently fluttering in your stomach. He lifts you up and you feel like the air is punched from your lungs at the strength and his hands all over you. You hear a chuckle eurrupt from his chest right before you’re thrown from his hands. You squeal as your body breaks the frozen barrier of water and you splash into the icey grimy pool. You hold your breath as you look up from under the water and see the stars sparkle in the night sky. Slowly you come up out of the water, pushing your body up on the side of the pool glaring in Harrington's direction. The cold water is working to sober you up a bit, however not as well as you wished it to. The alcohol still streaming through your veins from those last few swings of the bottle now making you only a tad bit tipsy. Tommy and Carol are keeled over laughing, nearly falling off the lawn chairs they were laid out on. “Before you kill me you're gonna need me for new clothes you know? Right?” Steve lightly whines and backs up looking like a deer in headlights as he backs himself up against the sliding patio door.

“Show me where the shower is in this damn mansion of a house and maybe just maybe I'll spare you” you groan and look down at your body as your clothes sag and cling awkwardly to your body, water dripping off of you and onto the patio tile below you making you feel like a wet dog. He slides the glass back door open quickly and waits on you, not daring to make a move. “You're so whipped Harrington, how can you deny that?!?” Tommy calls over at the boy whose frozen stood, making Carol burst out into laughter again. You and Steve glare in their direction as you make your way into the much warmer house.

They shut up and put up their hands in surrender and shrug as you and Steve walk into the house. He leads you up the stairs and points you towards his bathroom. You give him a grimace before you walk into the bathroom, you decide not to lock the door and even to leave it open a crack.

Steve gathers clothes of his own for you to change into as he hears shuffling in the bathroom before the water starts running. He grabs a baggy pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt of his as well as socks of his for you. He walks a few feet out of his bedroom, passing the cracked open bathroom door. The smell of his body wash wafts out the door and under his nose. You were using his body wash, and you were gonna smell all like him and be wearing his clothes. He feels his cock stir and twitch in his suddenly ill-fitting boxers at the thought, god it made his stomach turn. It would be like you were his, all his, only his. He shakes away the cloud of lust overcoming him and makes his way into the laundry room. Opening up the dryer he throws in the clothes he grabbed as well as a towel for you, setting it to run for around 10 minutes so that it all comes out warm. It might appear as though he was sucking up cause he doesn't want you to kill him for throwing you in the pool, but he does genuinely want you to be comfortable and warm. He let Carol and Tommy get the better of him and get in his head, always calling him whipped for you and saying he follows you around like a puppy. The two of you weren’t together in any capacity besides friends and it kills Steve. Cause he knows he's very obvious with his affection and infatuation and yet he's oblivious to yours. Therefore him throwing you in the pool was so they'd stop their comments about how close you two were sitting or how he was looking at you. He shouldn't have let them get to him but that was all he could think to do so they’d shut up.

Making his way back into his bedroom he stands frozen in front of the bathroom door, hand wrapped around the side where it was left open a jar. He takes a deep breath and walks in, looking down at his feet. His intentions were purely innocent and yet he couldn't fight the flush of his cheeks or the growing bulge making a small tent in his jeans as he stood there. This was his bathroom after all and so he knew his shower doors were glass and if he just looked up just an inch. He’d see your beautiful silhouette through the fogged up glass door, your hands running over your body as you rinse off the body wash. his body wash. Steve clears his throat to both catch your attention and regain his own composure enough to speak again.

“Hey uh i grabbed out some sweats and a shirt for you, even a pair of my socks, they're in the dryer with your towel so they can be toasty for ya’ i thought maybe i could take your sopping wet clothes from you to wash those” the words all practically come vomiting out of Steve's mouth in a hurry he was doing his best to make up for his adolescent action. The strain of his aching cock against his jeans persistent and annoying however.

It was killing him, knowing if he only glanced up just a bit he could see your body in all its beauty and yet he wouldn't, he couldn't. He wasn't a perv though it may seem like it sometimes, he just felt the need to check in on you, you were tipsy still and not at your own house after all.

With Steve's head bowed and his eyes apparently glued to his own feet he misses the small evil smirk that spreads on your face. “Yeah yeah that'd be great Steve thank-” you cut yourself off and let out a small fustrated string of curuses before you fake whine.

“Y/N? What happened, hey you okay?” A confused Steve stands even more frozen but he's gotten closer to the shower door and has a hand on the door handle. “Oh fuck- ughh i think i got soap in my eye. I can't tell if I rinsed it all away. Can you look at my eye for me please?” You question and fight back the smile that wants to take over your lips, forcing a squinted and pained expression instead.

Without a second thought Steve flings the shower door open, eyes now glued to your face instead of the floor and his feet. He leans forward trying to get a better look in your eye when you grab him by the collar of his shirt. Quickly before he can question you, you pull Steve into the shower with you, sliding closed the door so no water escapes.

The warm water suddenly spraying at his back, soaking his shirt and running down, working its way to soaking his jeans. His jaw agape and his shoulders raised and tense for a moment before he adjusts and they drop. His already tight jeans are beginning to cling around his now very obvious bulge. “Alright yeah I deserved thattt-” he chuckles but his voice gets caught in his throat and his last word dragging on when he lets his eyes drift down your bare, dripping, glowing wet body standing in front of him. You watch as his brown eyes darken and cloud with desire, your own eyes slowly taking in his own body and landing right on his excruciatingly hard cock that's begging to be let out of his strained jeans. Your own eyes glaze over with lust and reluctantly they scan back up Steve's body to meet his. His eyes droopy and brows furrowed, strands of his brown locks now soaked and a darker color as they stick to his forehead jaw still practically on the floor.

“Steve.. please” you whine, your voice coming out more breathless than you intended and full of vulnerability. “Oh fuck it” he grunts and surges forward, his warm hands wrapping around your slippery wasit pulling your exposed body flush against his colthed one as his lips crash against yours.

You let out a small gasp and shut your eyes tightly before kissing back passionately, lips molding together perfectly as hands roam and slide around each other's drenched bodies. Steve’s hand slips up your side, around your back and up your spine slowly before gripping the back of your neck deepening the kiss. You hum into his mouth and let his tongue invade your own mouth and take over dancing with your tongue. His other hand sliping the opposite way, down your hip and over your soft thigh before cupping your throbbing sex. A whimper escapes your lips, the steam from your hot shower filling the bathroom only seemed to double, surrounding the fogged up shower as well as your and Steve's entangled bodies. “Harrington..baby i need you please” you pull away from the heated kiss and whine leaning into his touch, your hands splayed across his lower stomach. One sliding under his soaked shirt and the other sliding down and starting to work at the button on his pants. The running shower head is still spraying right at Steve's back who's too entranced with you to care about the water bill that's raising higher and higher to longer it runs uselessly.

A cocky smirk is plastered on Steve’s face as water flows down his chiseled face and drips off his chin. His nibble fingers slide through your folds and slip through your slick before plunging deep inside you. His middle and ring finger work in tandem to thrust inside your aching cunt and reach that spongy spot that makes you see stars. Your pussy clenches around his fingers after every thrust inside, his long fingers buried knuckle deep inside you. You let out a loud wanton moan in relief and pleasure that gets muffled when Steve's lips collide with your own once again. You finish unbuttoning his jeans and do your best to push the fabric as well as his boxers down his thick thighs as they cling to his legs. His neglected cock finally springing free, his leaking red tip angry and desperate for attention.

All the tension and Steve's fast and well trained movements make the pleasure build up fast in the pit of your stomach. You moan and whimper into his mouth as his fingers keep thrusting hard and deep inside you, Steve’s thumb starting to rub slow circles on your twitching clit pushing you closer and closer to that edge. “You gonna cum on my fingers cutie?” His voice comes out taunting and condensing, the sound rebervating against the tile walls in the shower and bouncing all around you. You nod frantically and your knees buckle, your legs almost giving out from under you. Steve uses the hand gripping the back of your neck to make you hold eye contact as well as hold your body up steady as you grow limper in his arms the closer you get.

“Well you know how our little game goes right baby? Well you pulled me in the shower for throwing you in the pool” he starts explaining and you fight your eyes fluttering shut and your thoughts drifting away as you get closer and closer to tipping over the edge. You lazily nod in understanding. “Yes baby yes Steve I know i know!” You babble and moan out nearly incoherently as your eyes shut for a second but snap back open. Your cunt begins to throb and ache for releasing and holding it in starts to become painful. “Well it's my turn again and i think i'm gonna edge you cutie you know, for pay back?” He chuckles and as quickly as he slipped them in he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you let out a long whine in protest as your head falls back and your climax dies back down.

A shit eating grin is glued to Harrington's face and he soothes the pain by circling your clit with the two fingers he slipped out softly. Your disappointment doesn't last long however once Steve grabs both of your arms, pulling them behind your back and spinning your body around to press your tits up against the cold shower wall. Your hips nestled and pressed against his, his cock sliding through your folds as he grinds against your ass. Your nipples harden from the shift in temperature from the shower water. The hand that isn't holding both of your arms behind your back comes down to slap your ass before Steve's tip spilling pre cum is pushing at your entrance and with one hard sharp thrust he's inside.

“Oh god~ Baby” you scream as Steve gives you no time to adjust to his size, the painful sting of your cunt stretching and accommodating his cock. He rubs his thumb over the small of your back as he pushes your arms flush to your back keeping your body right where he wants you. Steve thrusts deep and fast, desperately needing this feeling for so long he can't get enough. The sound of your moans and mumbled curses, sweet nothings and whines of ‘baby’ ‘more’ ‘yes!’ fill the room alongside the slapping sound of wet skin against wet skin. Steve's balls slap against your clit in this position adding to your pleasure. You let out a loud scream of pleasure the harder he thrusts, your climax right on the edge faster than you wished. Your hips slam back against Steves and any thought of being mad at him for throwing you in the freezing cold pool have long dissipated along with the steam in the bathroom and long forgotten about with the running dryer with your towel and Steve's clothes.

→ a/n: i got very carried away with this and it took two days to finish so it came out late and im sorry but im actually pretty proud of this one. fun enough this was sort of an idea carried over from last years kinktober that i didnt do and now finally i did it!! leave me feedback and sorry for any typos!

#lostalioth kinktober #kinktober 23 #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day 5 #steve harrington x reader #smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanficton #steve harrington #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem #fem!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington hc #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x female reader #female reader #blurb #oneshot #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington prompt #steve harrington masterlist #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington imagine

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

Quiet My Fears (With The Touch Of Your Hand)

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Description: It was Steve's fault you got hurt last time, and it's Steve's fault again this time, too.

Warnings: pregnant!reader, mentions of being sick, blood, mentions of s3 events, lots and lots of crying

Word Count: 4409

Notes: Hello everyone I kinda poured my heart and soul into this pls enjoy

My Masterlist! - Series Masterlist!

Next Chapter!

July 5th, 1985 - 4:05 am

Steve had already decided what he was going to tell his parents about the state of his face. He was at a party, he’d say, and got into a fight with some drunk asshole who was hitting on you a little too hard. He tried to tell him to fuck off, but the guy got mad and threw the first punch. Steve won, of course.

A semi-believable story that involved zero Soviet torture doctors. 

You’d made it out of the night without any black eyes or broken noses, but there was a sizable gash peeking out from under your hairline. The blood that had dripped from your temple down to your neck had been wiped away by one of the EMT’s, so the cut was really only visible if you already knew it was there. It wasn’t bad enough to warrant stitches, thankfully, but that did very little to quell Steve’s incessant worry. He didn’t like the way your whole body was trembling. Or the way your tights were ripped. 

It took hours for the two of you to be able to go home, made longer by the mountains of contracts and NDA’s you were forced to sign. Steve had already gotten the super secret security rundown twice before. “You’ll probably end up with a good chunk of hush money, at least,” he had joked with you. “All of us did.”

You trailed behind Steve like a lost puppy as he unlocked his front door. He was just happy that you were alive at all.

You, for whatever reason, hadn’t made it into the same interrogation room as Robin and Steve. You weren’t there when Dustin and Erica arrived to get them, and you were nowhere to be seen during the big fight. Steve hadn’t even realized that you weren’t with them until whatever he’d been injected with was out of his system, but he was plunged into an ice cold panic the moment that he did. He begged Hopper to let him go back and look for you, though the idea got shot down immediately (‘Because clearly, you did so great down there the first time!’). Funnily enough, it was actually Murray, of all people, who found you first. He said you were about two seconds away from breaking his nose, if not for the fact that you were chained to the steel bench built into the wall. 

The house was empty. Steve’s parents were spending the holiday weekend with his aunt and uncle two states away; thankfully, Steve hadn’t been dragged along this time. He always thought his dad’s brother was a creep anyway. Your parents were across the street, most likely sleeping soundly at the thought that their daughter was just out at a house party like a regular 18 year old. Of course, nothing about any of this was regular.

Steve’s usual post-saving-of-world routine was to down two doses of ibuprofen, take the hottest shower known to man, and sleep for a day, and there was definitely a part of him that wanted to do just that, but you were still hovering behind him like a ghost. Steve clicked on the lamp on the table next to the sofa as the two of you entered the living room.

“Sit, okay?” he told you. “I’ll find you some pajamas or something.”

You nodded to him, sullen and shaky, and lowered yourself into the pristine couch. It was cream colored and satiny, like it was designed to be easy to stain, and Steve had never actually been allowed to sit on it when he was little. 

His whole body ached, but he trudged up the stairs anyway. He ducked into his own room to quickly strip off his decidedly disgusting uniform and put on a too-big sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants before picking out something for you. Steve came back down to find you wincing as you slowly pulled off your shoes. 

“Jesus,” Steve remarked at the state of the white socks that slouched around your ankles over your tights. The backs were drenched in angry red, spread all the way around the heel and down the sides, and the nylon of your tights had big holes worn through that exposed just how ripped up the skin of your heels had become.

“I decided to put on new shoes this morning,” you sighed. “Hadn’t broken them in yet.”

While humiliating, he and Robin’s Scoops uniforms were actually pretty comfortable. The sneakers Steve had worn to work that day had held up wonderfully to all the walking (and running for his life) that he’d had to do all night, but you worked at one of the fancy department stores. You couldn’t wear sneakers or comfortable shorts, you had to wear smart, grown up clothes. You’d been running around all night in a pair of brand new, shiny black mary-janes and a skirt. It made Steve feel just a little bit sick to his stomach to think about. 

“Fuck,” Steve huffed out. “Alright, hold on. There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

Steve bandaged up your ankles, carefully cleaning the wounds with the softest cloth he could find and cursing himself when you made a noise at the pain. 

God, this was all his fault.

“You can take the room next to mine, if you want,” Steve said after you’d changed. “My parents won’t be home until Monday, so we won’t have to worry about them at all.”

“Okay,” you said, voice mouseish. You’d been to Steve’s house a million times before; you grew up across the street, the only other person his age in a neighborhood full of elderly couples and houses for sale. Even before Steve de-assholed, you’d still sneak out of the house to come drink stolen beers on the roof of his garage on the nights when he couldn’t stand to sleep. 

That being said, ‘welcoming’ was not really a word you’d use to describe the Harrington household. The guest room next to Steve’s was, similar to the living room, untouched and pristine. Perfectly made bed, easily palettable decor, somehow devoid of dust despite the fact that it was clear no one had used the room in a very long time. The bed had a pink comforter, a dusty-rose kind of color.

The two of you had only been apart for an hour, maybe less, before Steve heard a knock on his bedroom door. He opened it to find your teary eyes on the other side.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Steve asked. He couldn’t either. 

“I can’t-” you stuttered out. “I don’t think I can be alone right now.” 

Steve knew the feeling.

He stepped out of the doorway to make room for you to come in. The pair of you stood too close to one another in the middle of his room in heavy, suffocating silence. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered.

“Don’t be,” you replied. You stepped forward and pressed your forehead against his shoulder. 

“I am, though. I got you wrapped up in this fucking mess,” Steve said as he wrapped you up in a hug. “And now you’re hurt, and it’s my fault.”

“I’m the one who wanted to help you guys. I could’a just gone home, but I chose to stay. You didn’t do that, I did.”

“I still think you deserve to be mad at me.” 

You stayed quiet for a moment, with Steve above your head wishing he could go back in time and fix all of this before it had the chance to get back to you.

“They told me you were dead,” you admitted through the quiet.

“What?”

“After they pulled me away,” you explained. “You and Robin, they told me you were both dead.”

“Oh, my god,” Steve huffed out. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry.”

You muttered his name into his collar bone, and Steve pulled away just enough to be able to look at you. You were crying now, but so was he, and fuck, he wanted to kiss you. Kiss all of the tears away, and pull all of the horrible, fucked up things that had happened to you out of your memory, and as you stood looking at him, Steve realized that you had gotten the memo.

You leaned up and kissed him, so incredibly soft, making sure to be careful of his split lip. Steve’s eyes fluttered shut as his hands came to meet the junction of your jawline and neck. 

You pulled away from him first, tears still silently spilling from your eyes, and he touched his forehead to yours. 

“I’m really happy you’re not dead.”

February, 1989

Steve was entirely zoned out behind the counter at Family Video when the shrill ring of the phone broke through his trance

“Thank you for calling your local Family Video. My name is Steve, how can I help you today?” Steve regurgitated the same spiel as he does every time he picks up the phone. 

“What time do you get off work tonight?” you asked him. Steve knew your voice in an instant, and even through the crackle of the phone, he could hear that something was wrong.

“Eight. Why?” Steve inquired.

“I need you to come over,” you said. “It’s an emergency.”

Steve’s heart dropped into his stomach.

“Should I be calling Hopper?” he asked you. If something. . . upside down-ish was happening again, he was gonna lose his shit.

“No, nothing like that,” you clarified, and Steve let out a silent breath of relief. “It’s an entirely non-supernatural emergency.”

“Do you want me to come over now? I’m the boss-man. I can leave whenever I want,” Steve joked. He was trying his damnedest to hear your laugh come from the other end of the line.

“You’re a shift lead, Steve.”

“Yeah. Boss-man.” 

There was only silence on the line for a moment. 

“I don’t want you to get in trouble, is all,” you explained, and it made Steve's heart ache just a touch. 

“It’s fine, I won't,” Steve said to placate your worry. “Twenty minutes, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you said, though you didn’t sound thrilled. It made Steve worry even more as he hung up the phone. 

Steve knew the two of you were wildly codependent on each other. Believe him, Robin had been reminding him constantly over the past year since she’d caught the two of you in a house party bathroom. 

The fact that the pair of you hadn’t actually made it official yet, despite the fact that you’d been sleeping with each other with relative consistency for three and half years, definitely didn’t help matters at all. 

‘You are in love with her,’ Robin loved to point out. ‘And pretending to not be in love with her while also sleeping together is going to destroy your brain!’

She was right, of course. It absolutely was destroying his brain, but if he had to pick between having a destroyed brain but also having you, or not having a destroyed brain but also not having you, he’d pick a destroyed brain anyday. Even if he thought (knew) you didn’t necessarily feel the same way he did.

Steve parked his car in the empty space next to yours in your apartment building’s lot. He knew the code to the building’s door by heart now, and he’d had a spare key to your apartment for the last six months.

He let himself in, making sure to lock the door behind him once he was inside, and saw you shaking like a leaf on the couch. 

Steve paused for a moment before he dropped his car keys onto the little table by the door. He was instantly plunged into crisis-management mode. 

In recent years, Steve had become quite familiar with crisis management mode; put all the feelings to the side, and deal with the situation at hand. Was it healthy to stub out all of the mushy shit like that? No, probably not, but emotional healing was a lot easier to do when he didn’t have the threat of  interdimensional horror hanging over his head.

Though, over the phone, you had promised him there was no interdimensional horror at the moment.

He toed off his shoes and rounded the coffee table to crouch in front of you. Your eyes followed his every movement, wide and glassy and enough to make Steve’s rib cage feel like it was about to cave in. He took your hands in his.

“What happened?” he asked you. 

You shut your eyes, forcing more tears down the slope of your cheek. A small, quiet sob escaped your lips as you dipped your forehead onto Steve’s shoulder. He brought a hand up to graze over the back of your head, holding you close to him. 

You were tougher than you looked, always had been. That wasn’t to say that Steve ever thought you were weak, but you were timid and quiet. Shy since birth, you never really stood out to Steve as a fighter until he saw you crack a Russian soldier over the back of the head with his own gun. You’d had a fire in your eyes that could’ve rivaled Nancy’s that night, before you had all been separated from one another. That fire was decidedly missing right now, though. Your tears seemed to have extinguished it.

“Hey, hey. Tell me what’s going on, yeah?” Steve asked.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered into his neck. You sounded small and, more pressingly, fucking terrified. Steve did his best to place a hand on either side of your face and pull back to get a good look at you, though you clearly didn’t want to be pulled away from your spot tucked into the collar of his crew-neck. 

“Sorry for what, baby?” Pet names had previously been reserved for dirty-talk purposes only, but you’d started calling him ‘handsome’ a few months back as a joke (which quickly became much less of a joke), and now that rule had been thrown out the window. One more blurry boundary line in your relationship. “I wanna help, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Steve,” you murmured.

“You’re scaring me,” Steve told you, and it was true. “Is it something with your mom? Did she call?”

“No. She won’t. You know she won’t.”

“Then what’s happening? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this upset, and I will do everything I can to help, but-”

“I’m pregnant.”

You whispered it and Steve swore he felt his heart stop. 

“What?” he whispered back. Surely you didn’t mean it. Surely he had to have misheard you.

“I’m pregnant.” 

Definitely hadn’t misheard you, then.

“You-” It felt a bit like his brain had been replaced by cotton balls. “How sure are you?”

“Uhm, I took a test here, and it came back positive, but the box said that you can get false results sometimes, so I waited a couple days and took another one, but then that said the same thing,” you rambled. “So then, I went to that clinic on Poplar and got a blood test, and they called me earlier today and said that that one was positive, too.”

“Very sure,” Steve said in response to your onslaught. 

You only nodded in agreement.

Steve could hear the drip drip drip of your leaky kitchen sink, the sound of your cat batting around his favorite toy mouse, your neighbors downstairs fighting like they did most nights. He could hear your ragged breathing, and the beginnings of your quiet sobs, and his own heartbeat in his ears. He didn’t know what to say to you, how to get you to calm down, and he didn’t think he had the mental capacity to figure it out right now, so he didn’t say anything at all. You stayed quiet too, tucked away in your own little world of the smell of Steve’s cologne and the soft of his hair. 

Steve was about two seconds away from completely shutting down when your pitiful voice sliced through the silence.

“Steve, I don’t know what to do.”

That kicked his brain back into gear. 

“That’s okay,” he said from his spot on the floor. His emotions get tucked underneath the floorboards so he can deal with yours first. “It’s okay. You don’t have to know right now.”

And you two stayed there, you on your couch and him with his back pressed against the hard edge of  your coffee table, for a good long while. Your sniffles had graduated to full on bawling and you were clinging to him like he was a liferaft. You were petrified. His head was swimming and he felt a little bit like his heart might explode, but he wasn’t about to let you know that. 

Logically, the next step would be to talk about. . . all of it. What you wanted to do, and what that would look like, and all of it, but you weren’t able to get a word in. Even though Steve knew it was what needed to happen next, the thought of actually having to face the music made him feel sick. 

“We’ll figure it out, alright?” Steve said into your hair. “We’ll figure it out. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

You just sort of fell limp against him once you had run out of tears. Steve’s back was starting to cramp up from being squished against the table, and when he moved to plant himself onto the sofa next to you, you stayed adhered to his side. 

“Steve, I don’t-”

“I know. It’s okay.” I don’t know what to do had become your mantra of the evening. Steve was in the exact same boat, though, and the best idea he’d had all night was distraction, so distraction it would be. He paused for a moment before asking you, “are you hungry?”

You tilted your gaze to him, looking confused.

“How ‘bout I go and get us something to eat from that diner you like, and we can watch a movie or something. Then we can talk about it in the morning, yeah?” Steve suggested. You didn’t seem all that on board with the idea, though. “Is that okay?”

“I can’t keep anything down,” you explained after a moment.

Oh, yeah. People get sick when they're pregnant. Steve hadn’t really thought about that part yet. 

“Right. Well, have you tried at all today?” he inquired. You shook your head.

“Not since last night.”

Great. You’re already terrified and now you can’t even eat.

“Look, I’ll get you a grilled cheese, and an extra large Sprite for your stomach in case the sandwich doesn’t work out, and I’ll stay here with you all night,” Steve said. 

“Okay,” you said with a nod and a sad smile. You seemed to understand what he was doing, though you showed no signs of protest. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Steve said as he got up and slipped his feet back into his shoes. He scooped up his keys and shot you a smile before opening the door. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

You nodded, giving him the green light to leave. He half-jogged down the stairwell and out into the parking lot, and he barely made it into the driver’s seat before he started crying.

Guilt settled in his chest in an instant at the thought, but the first thing that popped into his head when he was finally alone was that his dad was going to fucking kill him. And not just in a figurative, ‘oh no I scratched the car, dad’s gonna kill me’ kind of way; his father was going to pick up a weapon and actually kill him. Then, Hopper was gonna kill him after his dad did. You two weren’t even actually dating; how was he going to explain any of this? ‘Hey, dad! I accidentally knocked up my not-quite-girlfriend/best friend with benefits!’  That’ll go over splendidly. That’s two people added to the list of people who wanted to kill him. 

What was going to happen next, then? He was having difficulty figuring out the answer. 

Whatever you wanted to do, obviously, but you didn’t know what that was, and yeah, he was scared shitless, but you were beyond terrified. Scared in a way Steve had never seen you before. That made him feel about a million times worse.

‘Cause he was still just a shitty kid, who still lived with his shitty parents and worked a shitty job, and even with his shitty promotion, he still made a shitty wage. A shitty wage that definitely wouldn’t be enough to raise a kid, and-

He was spiraling, he could feel it, and he’d never been more grateful to see the glowing neon of an OPEN sign in his life.

He parked the car. He got out of the car. He opened the door to the restaurant. He walked up to the counter and a girl he used to know from high school took his to-go order. If he remembered correctly, she was a tattoo apprentice.

“You alright?” possible-tattoo-apprentice ask Steve after ringing in the food. “You seem a little, I don’t know, freaked out.”

“Yeah,” Steve replied with a tight lipped smile and curt nod. “Yeah, no. I’m good.”

She looked right through his lie, but moved on to a couple of older men sitting at the counter with coffee refills anyway.

 Steve, in the ten minutes it took for the food to come out, stood leaning against the wall in utter silence. In that silence, he allowed himself to live in what was probably an irresponsible thought; the one where the two of you actually did have a kid, and a house, and maybe a dog if he’s lucky. Something that maybe was a lot less far off in the future than he thought. Steve used to want kids, when he was younger. Maybe it was just the fact that he’d had every single stereotype of the American dream shoved down his throat his whole life, but he really had wanted it at one point. That was before everything, though. Before the monsters, and the chaos, and all the awful shit he’d roped you into. Before it all came back, and then came back again, again, again. Any dream of a family had been stubbed out by the fear that it could all one day be ripped apart. 

Despite that, despite the fact that he knew every single reason that it could never happen like the back of his goddamn hand, he did nothing to try and save himself from drowning in the fantasy. The image of you holding his baby made his chest go tight and he wanted it more than anything in the world, but fuck, what happens if everything goes to shit again? He had done a pretty awful job at keeping you away from it the first few times, you had the nightmares to prove it, so how could he possibly protect his kid from it, too?

The food came out and he was rocked back into reality.

He left the restaurant, stopping on the way back to your apartment at a 7/11 for the Sprite he had promised. He grabbed some anti-nausea medicine too, but it wasn’t until he got into the car that he realized there was a big warning on the back of the box: ‘Do not take if you are pregnant or breastfeeding.’ 

Awesome.

He did his best to scrub any evidence of tears out of his eyes in the rearview mirror, and got out of the car.

You were waiting for him on the couch, just as you had been when he had left. You smiled at him when he walked through the door, still the sad self pitying kind, but a smile nonetheless. 

“I come bearing grilled cheese,” he said as he placed the bag on the coffee table. The joke didn’t land.

“You were crying?” you asked once you were able to get a good look at him, the shake in your voice back once again. Clearly he hadn’t done a good enough job in the rear view. 

“N-no, no. I wasn’t, I-”

“You were,” you interrupted him, and Steve knew better than to try and deny it. You looked like you were about to start crying again, too, and Steve could feel the twist of the knife in his side. He rounded the table to sit next to you, and you drew yourself into him in an instant. Tucked into his arms, you did start crying again (how you had any tears left, Steve didn’t know) and just barely whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey. No sorries, okay?” he said. You wouldn’t look up at him, just shook your head. “Look, if we’re gonna blame anybody, it should probably be me, right?”

Thankfully, that line was enough to finally bubble a laugh out of your chest.

“I’m serious!” Steve took the joke and ran with it in a desperate attempt to lift your spirits even in the slightest. “I mean, it was my, y’know. . . fluids.”

“Oh, gross, dude!” you exclaimed, playfully slapping his shoulder as you sat up straight. “Don’t say it like that!”

“That’s just biology, babe.”

“I know that, I just don’t want to have to think about your fluids when I’m trying to eat,” you quipped at him as you pulled the styrofoam boxes out of the bag on the table, opening the first of the two and passing it his way. It seemed like you were feeling better, and even if you were faking it, Steve would take it. 

“Hey,” Steve called to you through the quiet chatter of the TV after a moment. You turned your face to meet his and the moment his eyes locked on to yours, it seemed like every word he had wanted to say to you had slipped out of his mind. Your voice reeled them all back in, though.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever you wanna do, okay?” he stuttered out. He was pretty sure he might start crying again.

“Right. Yeah.” Your smile faded in an instant at the reminder of the situation.

“And whatever that, y’know, looks like,” Steve continues. “I’ll be right next to you, holding your hand the whole time.”

You give him a pitiful, heart crushing smile, and the pair of you didn’t bring it up again all night. 

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x you #joe keery #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x you #stranger things imagines #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x f!reader

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

uh...hehe. no reason why i wrote this...no reason at all🙂in any case, writing this has also let me know i'm not that great at writing threesomes. oh well, ya live and you learn

Summary: You go to a concert of your favorite band and you manage to catch the attention of the vocalist, who invites you backstage for a more intimate meet and greet. In a not so surprising turn of events, the guitarist walks in on you two at just the right moment.

Warnings: Rockstar!Steve x Reader x Rockstar!Eddie, slight drug use, SMUT (MINORS DNI) threesome, fingering, light degradation and name calling (slut, whore), king of consent Steve, grinding, spitroast, oral (m!receiving), overstimulation, multiple creampies, and some Steddie implications and impossible situations

word count | 5.3k🤙🏻

You were finally going to a concert of one of your favorite bands ever, Corroded Coffin. Having enough money saved up to get the tickets, you almost cried tears of joy seeing the big bold letters of Ticketmaster read: You Got ‘Em. Let the Anticipation Begin.

And anticipate, you did.

The waiting was the hardest part. You had bought the ticket a few months in advance, purchasing the VIP meet and greet package as well. You did without thinking honestly, and as soon as you realized what you had done, you almost had a full blown panic attack. You knew this band were just people like everyone else, but these dudes practically saved your life and the realization that you were going to meet them? It felt like you were going to meet God, but like, ten times the nervousness of that. You had no idea how your mind and body was going to handle this. You’d never met your idols and inspirations before. 

You just hoped to every deity out there that you wouldn’t pass out. That would’ve been fuckin’ embarrassing. But the nerves only got worse the day of, the drive to the venue not helping in the slightest, but talking to other fans about each other's shared nerves made you feel a little better knowing you weren’t the only one to feel this way. And before you knew it, it was time to head inside the building to meet and take a picture with the band before the show started. Time sure flies by talking to other people while waiting in line.

You tried to keep your hands from shaking as you waited your turn, seeing the fans in front of you return with wide smiles on their faces and even some with tears. Oh god, you really hoped you didn’t cry, that would be even more embarrassing than fainting somehow. You won’t cry, you won’t cry…

You tried your best to not freak out when you walked up to the band members, but you couldn’t stop the smile that decorated your face when they seemed just as happy to meet you. Okay, you weren’t crying or freaking out, you were behaving like a normal human, so far so good. You made small talk for a few seconds, introducing yourself, telling them how much their music meant to you, etc. You felt a little guilty about it, but you were most excited about meeting Steve and Eddie. They were by far your favorite members, everyone who’s met them always talks about how sweet and down to earth they are, which made you feel much more at ease when you first bought the meet and greet pass. And those comments proved to be right, if anything it was an understatement. 

Steve was somewhat handsy, but not in a creepy way, you could tell that’s just how he interacted with people, but it didn’t stop your face from heating up. What made it worse was how Eddie was staring at you, a smirk on his face as he watched you and Steve talk excitedly. It almost distracted you from the conversation, but Steve’s hand on your shoulder quickly made your brain focus back on him.

For the picture, you were standing in between Steve and the drummer, with Eddie and the other member on the end. But that wasn’t okay with Eddie for some reason, you had to hold in a soft gasp as he pushed his way over to stand next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist with an innocent smile while Steve, after rolling his eyes, put his own arm over your shoulders. 

While you all got in your picture poses, your eyes almost widened comically as you felt a wetness gathering in your underwear…right in front of them. 

Why? Out of all the moments, your body had to pick exactly now to lube itself up. You hoped the band couldn’t tell how your face was. If your cheeks got any warmer, you would probably have steam rising from your skin. You really respected these dudes, you felt awful being so goddamn horny for them. But it seems luck was not on your side because when you lifted your arms to wrap them around Eddie and Steve at the same time, your shirt rode up just enough for Eddie’s hand to touch your skin. “Damn, you’re hot.” Eddie blurted out suddenly, making everyone stare at him in confusion, mostly embarrassment from Steve.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

“No, no, no, not like that.” He winced but before you could get slightly offended, he corrected himself again. “No, fuck, I mean, you are hot but you also feel hot.” The long haired man stuttered, making you giggle.

Then Steve decided to put the back of his hand to your forehead, as if you couldn’t be anymore mortified. “Wow, you’re right, Eds. She does feel kinda hot. You okay?”

Not even having time to register how sweet Steve was for being concerned, you came up with the first excuse you could. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, I’m always a bit warm. Plus, it’s August.” They seemed to be okay with that excuse enough for the photographer to finally take the fuckin’ picture, allowing you to escape the awkward situation without any more blows to your ego.

“Hope you enjoy the show!” Steve smiled at you before you had to leave. You knew you would.

It was by far the best night of your life so far. Meeting the people you looked up to, watching them perform your favorite songs up close. The barricade was so close to the stage you honestly thought you could probably reach out and they’d be able to reach back, but you were too busy ogling Steve and Eddie to even think about doing such a thing. They all sounded pitch perfect, just like they do on their albums. If you couldn’t hear the breaths Steve took before belting out another lyric, you’d think he was lip syncing because his vocals were perfect. And you didn’t even know Eddie could sing until you heard him doing backup vocals. You felt like you were in heaven. No matter how much your feet burned from being on your feet dancing around and how hoarse your voice was going to be in the morning from how loudly you were singing along, you felt like you could do this forever.

Watching Eddie play guitar was a privilege in its own right, seeing how fast his fingers moved across the fretboard shouldn't have made you as horny as you were. You were positive your underwear was going to be drenched by the time the night was over. Steve winking at you in the crowd didn’t make your situation any better. If you didn’t know any better, it’s like he knew. But he couldn’t, right? No way. You caught Eddie’s eye multiple times as well, you both smiling at each other before he looked back at his guitar. Yeah, this was the life.

All too soon, the show was over and people were starting to head home. Time really does fly when you’re having fun. But something happened and you had no idea how to react. About to head to the merch table, you heard your name called. Out of all the people that called out your name, you never expected it to be Steve. You saw some members of the opening bands out on the standing room floor and merch tables talking and taking pictures with fans, but you never expected to see members of the headlining band out and about. “Hey, did you enjoy the show?” He asked and you had to blink a few times before being able to reply.

“Yeah, yes, I did! It was the first time seeing you guys and you really knocked it out of the park, seriously. I doubt any concert I go to in the future will even come close to this one.”

“I’m so happy you enjoyed it.” He grinned, reaching up to gently grip onto your upper arm. “I mean, from the way a smile never left your face during the show, I figured you must’ve liked it a little.”

You felt your face heat up again, a wide eyed expression on your face. “You…you were watching me?”

He shrugged. “It was hard not to, you’re pretty adorable.” You giggled like a schoolgirl and immediately regretted it, hated being flustered so easily. But being called adorable by the vocalist of your favorite band was definitely not on your mind when you woke up this morning.

“T-Thanks.” You stuttered, unsure of what to do, but Steve already had a plan in mind.

“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you and if I make you uncomfortable at all then you have my permission to kick me in the nuts, I swear.” You chuckled in confusion, but motioned for him to continue. “I think you’re gorgeous, I’m pretty sure I kept looking for you in the crowd cause I don’t remember doing anything but that, besides singing of course. So, only if you’re a hundred percent comfortable with it, I’d like to take you back to my dressing room and…show you how much I appreciate you coming to see us.”

You blanched, your body freezing in shock at the sudden proposition. You were dreaming, you must’ve been. Unable to form words, Steve took your silence as offense and quickly started to apologize, calling himself stupid among other self deprecating words. “No, no, don’t be sorry! I just wasn’t expecting it, is all” You quickly explained.

Steve winced. “I’m sorry, I should’ve phrased it a bit better.”

You giggled. “Steve, stop saying sorry! It’s okay, really! I’d…I’d love to.”

Steve’s eyes lit up instantly, a shine coming to his puppy dog brown eyes. “Really?”

“I haven’t kicked you in the nuts, have I?” You joked with a light smile, eliciting a relieved chuckle from the man.

“Then please…follow me.”

You were all nerves as you followed Steve to the dressing room, wringing your hands and trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself. You obviously wanted this, so badly, but you couldn’t help but to be a bit intimidated alone with one of your heroes.

“You want a drink or weed or anything?” Steve asked politely as he escorted you into his dressing room.

“Oh, no, thanks. I’m good.” You replied, trying your best to keep the timbre in your voice from wavering.

Steve smiled, taking a few cautious steps closer to you, his eyes gazing over your form. “Okay.” You tried to even out your breathing as he gently pulled you to him by your jeans’ belt loops, his hand coming up to trail a finger along your jawline, the act making your core throb and causing goosebumps to raise along your arms.

Impatiently, you went to lean in, but Steve stopped you. “Just to make sure; you do want this, right? You don’t feel pressured? I don’t wanna force you to do anything. You can walk right outta here and I won’t judge you one bit. Hell, you can still kick me in the balls if you want.” Steve’s eyes portrayed genuine care, making your heart melt at his blatant kindness and consideration. It made you absolutely sure.

“I do, Steve. I want this. I want you…” You whispered, feeling your body already being consumed by lust. Your stomach churned at the boyish grin he gave you, gently grabbing a hold of your hips and leaning you against the vanity, tugging at the hem of your shirt before kissing you.

It was soft and slow at first, more of a peck. You could feel him testing the waters, giving you an out just in case you changed your mind at the last minute, but your heated body soon grew tired of his carefulness. Steve let out a quiet noise of surprise as you deepened the kiss, hungry for more of him already.

Your mind went fuzzy as you felt Steve’s hands traveling across every inch of you he could reach, each tentative squeeze and pinch growing more confident as the rougher he got the more mewls he elicited from you. You gasped into his mouth as he started to grind against you impatiently, keeping you securely pinned to the vanity behind you, the desk digging into the small of your back.

“Can I give you a hickey?” Honestly, he asked so sweetly that you had to say yes. So polite, so soft and innocent sounding, it almost made you forget he was grinding his erection against your clothed core.

His lips on your neck raised goosebumps all over your body, you were sure he could feel it. But he continued sucking and licking the soft skin of your neck until stung, making the friction of his pelvis against yours all the more pleasurable. Fuck, you could feel your arousal pooling in your underwear as the minutes passed. The more Steve pressed his obvious erection against you, the more your sticky slick spread. You couldn’t take it anymore. “Steve, please…” You whined, craving more of his touch.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl.” Steve whispered, his lips coming up to gently nibble at your earlobe.

“I want you to fuck me…but I need you to stretch me out with your fingers first.”

Steve smirked. “As you wish.” And before you knew it, the man had expertly tugged down your jeans along with your damp underwear, then awkwardly tried to remove them over your shoes before you just kicked them off to make it easier. Steve let out a boyish chuckle that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter rapidly before pushing your legs apart to stand in between them. You shivered as Steve ran his fingers through your slick folds, a cheeky grin decorating his face at the feeling. “So wet already?” I’ve been wet ever since the meet and greet, you wanted to say but you were cut short by two of Steve’s fingers entering you without warning. “Still tight, though.” He chuckled, pressing further into you until he was knuckle deep, curling his digits and hitting that sensitive spot at the front of your walls.

Steve looked up at you with bright, wild eyes, a small smile playing at his lips as you stared back at him in a pleasured haze. “That feel okay?” He must’ve known it did, from the way you were breathing heavily, grabbing at his shoulders like a lifeline; but he sounded so genuine that you nodded with a soft whine. “Good. Let me know if it ever stops feeling that way, deal?”

God, he was so sweet and patient, it started to make yours run thin. You wanted him so badly, and after a few more minutes of Steve finger fucking you, you were sure you were ready to take his cock. You palmed him through his jeans, feeling his thickness, making your mouth water. “I need your cock, pretty boy.” Steve’s cheeks dusted a light shade of pink, making you grin.

You eagerly helped him shimmy down his jeans and briefs down to his ankles, too impatient to remove the articles of clothing. You were already so sensitive, so when Steve ran the head of his dick though your slick folds, you let out a pitiful whine. Steve gave you a once over before slowly pushing himself through your entrance, the two of you letting out gasps, groaning once he was fully sheathed. “Are you okay?”

“God, yes, Steve. Please, move…” You whimpered, trying to restrain yourself from canting your hips to get some more friction. You wanted it hard and fast, but Steve decided to take it slow…way too slow.

Steve thrusted in and out languidly, the feeling heavenly but not enough. You could feel how much he stretched you out, could feel every pulse in his veins, could hear how much your cunt was sucking him in deeper and deeper; all the while Steve never broke eye contact with you, he was every expression on your face, how your eyes subtly rolled to the back of your skull every time he brushed against your cervix, ate up every cute noise you made. You knew he was trying to draw this out for as long as possible, smiling every time you whined impatiently. He knew what you wanted, he was just being a fuckin’ tease. “Steve, please…I need it faster. Harder.”

He playfully raised a brow. “What? Trying to get it over with, huh?” He asked, pinching your side through your shirt.

“No-ah!” You yelped as he suddenly rammed into you, the force making you bounce, his grip on your waist the only reason you didn’t fall off the vanity. “Fuck.” You moaned loudly as Steve thrusted into you at a much faster rate, any objects on the vanity’s desk toppling over and falling to the dressing room floor. “Yes, yes, yes…” You cried, feeling his cock beat against your pleasure spot at the front of your walls, trying to keep in your embarrassing wails as he finally was giving you what you wanted.

“Goddamn, you feel so good, pretty girl. Fuck, I’ve been wanting to feel this gorgeous pussy for hours. I loved watching you in the crowd tonight, a smile never leaving your face, looking up at me like I was a god. You sure know how to make a man feel special, huh?” He rambled.

“You-fuck, you are special, Steve.” You tried to reply back, stuttering with every syllable.

“Yeah? Tell me again.”

“Y-You’re s-special, Steve…”

“Fuck, yes…” Steve’s lips attached to your neck once more, his teeth grazing against your sweet spot immediately, your walls pulsing around him as you were already so close to that peak.

You and Steve were so eager to take pleasure from one another, you both didn’t even hear the door to the dressing room open. “Well, well, well, now what do we have here?” You both gasped and turned to the intrusion, a sweltering heat coming to your cheeks as you saw the guitarist staring you both down with a small smirk playing at his lips.

Steve looked at you first, gauging your reaction before he replied to his bandmate, finding no shame or nervousness in your expression. “Caught myself a little groupie, Eds.” Steve chuckled, his thrusts halting to a stop, almost eliciting a whine of protest from you. Fuck, you were almost there. You could feel your almost orgasm dull and fade away. “Ain’t she a beaut’?”

You probably should’ve been mortified, but the way Eddie was staring down at you from his place at the door, you couldn’t help but want him as well. Both him and Steve seemed to pick up on your desires. But from the way you were looking at both of them, it didn’t take a genius to put it together.

Steve leaned down to peck the underside of your jaw, slightly jerking his head in the direction of his bandmate. “Want him to join? Though, I gotta warn ya, he’s a kinky little shit.” He teased.

You giggled, the idea already making your stomach churn with overwhelming excitement. “What, you like being called daddy or something?”

Eddie scoffs, his already dark eyes darkening further. “Anything that’s not missionary is kinky to Steve. What about you, hmm? Why don’t you tell me what kinks you enjoy and I’ll decide if you can handle me or not.”

His words went straight to your core, your walls pulsing around Steve’s dick, making the man grunt. “Big on impact play. Spanking, slapping. Choking is fun. Scratched, bit, hair pulled; love all that.”

Eddie smirked widely, allowing himself to step closer to the two of you. “Right up my alley. I think we’ll get along just fine, sweetheart.” Then he gave a look to Steve, he had stopped thrusting into you as soon as Eddie started to chat you up. “Take her to the couch and keep fucking her, Stevie.” He didn’t have to be told twice, as soon as the words left his mouth, the man above you switched you both over to the little loveseat in the green room, continuing the pistoning movements of his hips, making you cry out at the sudden pleasure. “And you don’t have to call me daddy, sweetheart. Just Eddie. What about you? What titles are you okay with?”

Steve’s cockhead rocking into that sweet spot inside you made your mind go blank once more. You knew what you loved, but nothing came to mind. “Any. All. Whatever you want to call me, Eddie. I’m fine with anything.” You whined, reaching out to palm the growing bulge in his ripped jeans.

“Whatever I want, huh? What if I called you my little whore, hm?”

You blushed. “Or slut…”

“My pretty little slut…” Eddie tested, interrupted by Steve’s groan.

“Fuck, she squeezed down so hard on me when you called her that.” He mumbled out shakily.

Eddie’s eyes lightened up at the conformation. “You liked being degraded, huh?” You squeaked when he wrapped one of his large hands around your throat, squeezing roughly and cutting off your oxygen supply. “You like being called a dumb little slut, don’t ya? Such a greedy little fucktoy.”

“Woah…” Steve laughed in shock. “I was gonna say that’s a little far, but she pulsed around me again. Felt so good…I think you can make her come with those words alone, dude.”

“I could see it on her, man.” He chuckled darkly, removing his hand from your neck, allowing you to take a gasping breath. “Flip her over, Steve.” Taking instruction obediently, Steve flipped you over onto your front, forcing you to slightly lean over the pleated arm of the sofa, making your face level with Eddie’s crotch. “I could just tell she’d love being degraded like the whore she is. Now, go on and take out my cock for me, pretty slut.” You cried out as Steve reentered you from behind, the new angle making stars obscure your vision. A harsh slap to your cheek forced you to come back to reality, Eddie’s expression morphing into impatience “Already too cock drunk to listen to simple commands?” He cooed condescendingly.

Trying to ignore the immense pleasure your body was feeling, you reached up with shaky hands to undo the fly on Eddie’s jeans, feverishly shimmying them down along with his boxer briefs. You gasped as his hard cock sprung from its confines, gently smacking you in the face before you got a hold on it. The tip angry and red, feeling the blood pulsing through the veins on his shaft from underneath your fingertips, your mouth watered in anticipation. You looked up at Eddie with a grin before wrapped your lips around the head of his dick, a relieved sigh escaping his mouth. “That’s a good girl…” Eddie moaned as you tried taking him deeper, your own moans adding a vibration around his cock.

“She caught your eye too, didn’t she?” Steve’s voice echoed from behind you, not stopping his thrusts into you, inadvertently forcing you to take Eddie deeper.

“How could I not? That cute little nervous expression when she met all of us. Plus, she was at the barricade, practically drooling.” The admission made your face flush with heat, but you were too preoccupied to care.

“I could see her eyeing your fingers during all your solos.”

You took a big gasping breath as Eddie pulled out of your mouth, getting on his knees to be level with you, a smirk playing at his lips. “That true, gorgeous? You liked watching my fingers play along my fretboard?” He chuckled condescendingly when you nodded. “Pretty girl’s so cock hungry, hm?”

“Fuck…” You whined as you felt your orgasm build and build, faster than before, feeling edged way too long.

“Oh.” Eddie hummed in amusement. “Steve, I think she’s gonna come. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah, she’s squeezing around me so fuckin’ hard.” He groaned loudly.

You moaned as Eddie’s hand returned to your throat, gripping tightly enough that you felt lightheaded. Sharp pricks of pain shot through your entire body as you felt the pressure on your trachea, but it only careened you forward to your release, eliciting a loud strained moan from your lips. “Fuck, are you gonna come for Stevie, hm?” You nodded, babbling nonsense you were sure Eddie couldn’t understand. “Good slut, go on, come on his dick.” You heard Steve moan beautifully as you pulsed around him, your velvety walls holding him in a vice grip as you shook and jolted from the intensity of your climax. You barely registered the dark chuckle that escaped Eddie as he watched you writhe and sob, almost hyperventilating as you came down.

“Oh, fuck…” Steve whispered, leaning down to place gentle kisses on the nape of your neck. “So good, so good, pretty girl. Doin’ so well for us.” You purred at the praise, the hodgepodge of both Steve’s praise and Eddie’s degradation throwing you for a loop. You barely had time to recover before the two men started to thrust into you at both ends, moaning in overstimulation and gagging on Eddie’s dick as Steve’s continued its relentless pace, desperate to get to his end too.

“Look up at me, sweetheart.” Eddie spoke and your eyes widened when you noticed his phone’s camera pointed down at you. “Such a pretty thing, sucking my cock so good.” He growled, keeping a tight hold on your hair. The fact that he was filming you sucking his dick probably should’ve concerned you, but honestly, it was kind of hot and you were too fucked out to care.

“Fuck, I’m close.” Steve announced, his dick pistoning into you like his life depended on it.

“Yeah?” Eddie grinned, putting his phone away. “You gonna come in her tight little pussy, pretty boy?”

Steve grunted as his thrusts became more sloppy and erratic, using you for his pleasure wildly. “Shit, I’m coming…” He moaned, throwing his head back in pure ecstasy as ropes of his warm cum filled you to the brim. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He chuckled in exhaustion, pulling out and watched as your pussy clenched around nothing, how it slowly pushed his release out and dripped into a little puddle on the loveseat beneath you.

You took deep breaths as Eddie finally pulled out of your mouth, gently wiping drool off your chin before pushing a fucked out Steve out of the way so he could position himself behind you. “My turn, Stevie. Her mouth is fuckin’ phenomenal, but I wanna feel her tight little pussy myself.”

You gasped as Eddie flipped you over, making you face him. He looked fuckin’ angelic with him above you, much like how he looked performing on stage earlier. “Let’s take this shit off.” He growled, all but ripping your shirt and bra off your body, rendering you completely naked while he and Steve were practically still fully clothed. “Gorgeous fuckin’ tits, baby.” He groped them roughly, pinching your nipples until they stung. Eddie was much more comfortable being rough with you than Steve was. You were a hundred percent sure you’d have a multitude of bruises just from Eddie alone.

Again, unlike Steve, Eddie started with a much more rough pace. He wasted no time fully sheathing himself inside you with a hard cant of his hips, your slick and Steve’s leftover cum making his cock slid right in, the force making you cry out. “So tight still, baby girl. I wanna feel you come on my cock too. Think you can do that for me?”

“Maybe. Can try…” You stuttered, your brain practically melting from oversensitivity.

“Aw, she’s so eager.” Steve cooed, running his thumb along the sweat that was formed on the crease of your brow. “A people pleaser, this one, huh?”

Eddie smiled down at you. “That true, sweetheart? You wanna come on my cock just to please me?”

“Y-Yes…want you to feel it too.”

“Then let’s see if we can get you there one more time, okay?” Eddie’s cock was thicker and longer than Steve’s, the stretch a bit more painful but no less delicious. You couldn’t keep in your moans even if you tried. “Yeah, babygirl, let it out for me. Get fuckin’ loud. Let this whole building know how good my cock is making you feel.” You glanced over to see Steve lighting up a joint, his hair tousled and jeans pulled back up to his hips but left them unbuttoned. He looked properly beautiful. “Hey, eyes on me, slut.” Eddie growled, lightly slapping your face to get you focused. “Give me a hit of that, Stevie.”

Steve grinned as he placed the joint at Eddie’s lips, holding it for him as he took a deep inhale and blew the smoke out onto your face. The smell of the drug mixing with sex made for a delightful combo you wouldn’t have expected, the secondhand making into your lungs and making you dazed. With Eddie’s ruthless thrusts and the contact high, you felt yourself building and building up to your second orgasm, wailing and holding onto Eddie’s wrists where his hands were holding onto your love handles with a bruising grip. Your stomach ached with how rough and deep Eddie was inside you, but you never wanted him to stop, not when you were so close to another climax.

“Oh my god…” You sobbed, unable to hold back your loud moans even if you tried, the pleasure all too consuming and intense, you feared you’d black out.

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna come again, aren’t you?” Eddie mocked as he saw your body start to shake, chuckling darkly when you nodded hastily. “Steve, play with her clit for me, would ya?” You almost sobbed as Steve’s deft fingers came back for round two, finding your throbbing nub immediately and rubbing in a swift circular motion, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Paired with Eddie’s long, thick cock hitting that spot inside you with every thrust, you were barrelling towards your orgasm at speeds that made you lightheaded. The room almost spinning and you couldn’t focus on anything besides the intense, blinding pleasure that was surging through you. “Yeah, good fuckin’ girl, come on this dick.” Eddie groaned, fucking you through your orgasm until your were crying in overstimulation once again.

“S’okay, pretty girl, you can take it.” Steve encouraged, coming to sit next to you to slot his lips against his and wipe away your tears. You couldn’t stop moaning into his mouth as Eddie sped up even more, chasing his release.

“Yes, yes, yes.” Eddie moaned. “You want my cum, slut?”

Steve grabbed your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on Eddie. You only nodded, all words escaping you for how fucked out you were, but Steve gripped tightly and making you wince. “Use your words, gorgeous.”

“Yes, E-Eddie, I want your c-cum.” You squeaked. “Come in me, please, Eds.” Eddie grinned at the whiny cadence of your voice, barely able to form the words. Steve started to suck and lick at your nipples as Eddie’s cum painted your inner walls, the man letting out downright beautiful whimpery moans as he finally finished, pulling out of you with a sharp exhale.

Finally able to fill your lungs properly, Steve and Eddie both peppered your face with gentle kisses before they helped clean you up, though not before admiring their handiwork. Hickeys and bruises galore, it looked like you were hit by a truck, you definitely felt like you had been due to the endurance of these two boys. You started to wonder how you were going to be able to walk to your car, let alone drive home with how wobbly your legs were.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Eddie asked softly as he and his bandmate helped you dress.

You beamed giddily. “More than okay. That was…amazing.” You giggled, causing both men to grin proudly. It was like a dream come true…

“Glad you enjoyed yourself, we sure did.” Eddie teased.

“And be sure to let us know whenever you’re coming to another show. We’ll let you have a backstage pass so we can do this all over again, pretty girl.” Steve winked.

“Oh, don’t worry. I definitely will.”

lalalalalalalala brain rot brain rot, i'll be in horny jail bye-bye!

#stranger things smut #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x f!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x f!reader #steve x reader x eddie #eddie x reader x steve #steddie x reader #steddie x reader smut

[violettaskies]

Maybe, Just Maybe

prompt: exhibitionism

pairing: neighbour!steve x f!reader x neighour!eddie munson

genre: romance, smut, autumn vibes

notes: wc 12k // this is literally a halloween story oops // lets pretend that i posted this when it was NOT November lmao // steddie smut lol // eddie and steve are roommates // reader is their new neighbour

warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // exhibitionism, balcony sex, eating out, blow jobs, doggy style, sex, cozy sex lol, vaginal fingering // threesome // mfm // smut // please let me know if there are any more that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

Maybe moving into a new apartment during the month of October seems like a good idea to a normal person. It’s right after the busy summer months that are filled with vacations and plans with friends. But, also just before the holiday season with back-to-back family parties that can become borderline awkward. 

Well, looking at it now, maybe it wasn’t the best idea.

Maybe you shouldn’t have put the idea in your head that you wanted to update your decorations every season. Maybe you shouldn’t have spent three paychecks on cute pumpkins and fake cauldrons. Maybe you should have asked your parents to leave the ladder they brought when they helped you move in. Maybe you should have just grinned and bared it when you weren’t able to reach the ceiling of your balcony, and you couldn’t hang up the cute lights you bought.

In a world full of maybes, full of possibilities that were drowning in regret towards what could have been; you didn’t regret a thing once you looked upwards to see your extremely handsome neighbour helping you hang up the lights. He saw you about an hour earlier, standing on a chair and some books attempting to install a bunch of string lights that looked like candles. But with one moment of imbalance, causing you to drop the broom which was supposed to help you push the tape onto the ceiling — your neighbour ran out of his own apartment to see what all the noise was about. Especially since he heard a high-pitched scream coming from your lips. 

“What’s going on—” he ran out to his own balcony to see you in a state of shock, looking down at the ground below. 

“Sorry, I overreacted. My broomstick fell,” you said sweetly with a pout. Truthfully, you could already hear your parents’ scolding as you imagined the moment you would attempt to tell this moment as a funny story during Thanksgiving dinner in a few weeks. 

“Were you practicing your flying before Halloween?” he smiled as he saw the definite shape of a purple broom on top of a bush. 

“No, Steve, I was just trying to put up my decor,” you tried to hide your embarrassment with a bit of giggling. “Maybe I should’ve asked my parents to leave their ladder the other week.” 

The man looked over at the red curtains, fake spider webs on the window, and gigantic box of fake candles — he smiled at the way you seemed so excited to decorate for the upcoming holiday. Steve didn’t know you, his new neighbour, well. However, your kindness was something he adored to see every time he did get the opportunity to speak to you. Noticing the softness in your eyes every time he offered to help you with your grocery bags, or when he offered you a ride to the bus station, Steve promised himself that he would find a way to see that sparkle as much as possible. 

“You’re really going all out, aren’t you?” he said in a teasing tone. 

“Oh, of course. Halloween is always so fun. But, you should see what I have ready for Christmas,” decorating just always seemed so exciting to you. Yes, maybe you should be saving your money to buy regular things you can use on a daily basis. But, this was way more thrilling.

“Can’t wait, doll,” the nickname made you feel so warm amidst the cool autumn air. “If you’d like, I can hop on over there and help you.” 

Steve looked like he was about to lunge himself to jump the metal gate that separated your balconies, but you stopped him before he could. “There’s a front door for a reason, please don’t join my broomstick down there. What if there’s a huge gust of wind or something?” 

“Fine, fine, I won’t. But that’s mainly because my ladder will be too hard to jump with.” Steve winked.

“You have one?” you gasped and tightened your grip around the railing in excitement. 

“My roommate and I used to do some construction jobs,” Steve shrugged nonchalantly. 

Right, the roommate. 

In truth, that man was the first person you met in the entire building. You had just gotten your keys and were bringing up two suitcases full of your everyday clothing. Right then, a man with crazy hair and even crazier tattoos, that could be seen with his low-cut top, took the elevator with you to the sixth floor. He was about your age, and no matter how much you wanted to say hello to the handsome man, he couldn’t stop staring at you. 

But, not in a menacing, extremely creepy, kind of way — instead, Steve’s roommate looked at you in a sort of shock. It made you believe that he was just an extremely shy guy. You try not to think about the times he and Steve would have friends over and you could hear his deep voice talking about books and mythical creatures, all things that you wished to talk about with someone too. It was not difficult to admit just how badly you craved to have a moment to talk to him. 

“Eddie?” you nearly felt your cheeks explode with heat. 

“Yup, that’s him. You seem to be getting the hang of everyone’s names here, smart girl,” Steve chuckled as he saw the way your eyes darted around from his own eyes then to the floor. 

“Well, he is the only person I haven’t been able to speak to yet.” 

“One day, I promise I’ll get that guy to talk to you.” Honestly, Steve wished that Eddie would stop being so annoying about his bad habit of never talking to you, but always talking about you when you weren’t around. “Now give me a minute and I’ll knock.” 

-:-:-:-:-

And so, after about five minutes of waiting — and you pushing boxes out of the way of the front door so that no one was about to trip whilst finishing up the decorating — Steve appeared with a small ladder that would be the perfect size to hang up all the lights you wanted. The man looked around the interior of your apartment first. It was the same as his, only a lot cleaner, with less pictures of dragons and movie posters on the walls. The young Harrington noticed that you represented just about every haunted creature in your tiny apartment. Even going as far as having all of your horror genre books laid out on the coffee table for guests to read when they desired. 

Although you had only been here for a few weeks, this was already becoming home to you. “Looks like you made this your own little haunted mansion,” Steve teased as he set up the ladder outside. 

“It’s not much, just things to get into the spirit,” you smiled up at him. 

“Now I really gotta put your lights up. It’ll be boring if people are looking into your balcony and there are no decorations,” he chuckled as he looked to the balcony ceiling to see only one candle light successfully hung.  

“Thank you, Steve,” you bit your lip as you remembered all of the hostess manners that your mother engraved into your brain. “Let me at least offer you some coffee, beer — oh, I think I have some cake in the fridge.” 

“No, it’s fine. Just keep me company and that’s all I need. Some eye candy is sweeter than the real thing sometimes.” The man in front of you finished setting up his ladder as he finished speaking those words and winked at you. In truth, you weren’t so sure if the shaking of your legs was due to the cold breeze passing through and under your skirt, or if it was because the wink sent a thousand warm vibrations through your body. Regardless, you didn’t notice the way you squeezed your legs together as you went to the other side of the balcony to finish decorating — and trying to hide your slightly embarrassed face away from the man. 

But, Steve noticed. He noticed it right away, and it only made him wonder just how many times you try smiling to yourself every time your cheeks would feel warm.  

Over the next hour as the sun set, Steve hung up your lights one by one in a cute pattern. He talked about how often his own mother would make him do similar work during Christmas time because he was always home, as opposed to his father. You listened intently as you learned more about your neighbour, all while fixing a few plants and the pillow covers on the small seat on the balcony. Once the sun set a part of you got a little sad because that would mean the work was almost done and Steve would have to head back to his apartment. It was nice to finally get to talk to someone for the first time in weeks. The busy time of unpacking, on-boarding at a new job, and getting used to the new time zone, was over. Now you actually are able to start your life. 

What also made you a little sad was that you would soon need to say goodbye to your neighbour for the night, and try your best to forget about the way the muscles on his arms would flex whenever he would focus on sticking a light to the ceiling. Even making you gasp when his shirt would ride up slightly and the little sliver of his chiseled stomach would tease you. And every time, you would look away immediately, only to cause a hitch in your breathing. 

It would be a lie to say that Steve wasn’t intentionally on a lower step of the ladder because it would force him to flex his muscles a little bit harder in front of you. It would also be a lie to say that Steve wasn’t doing his own little form of spying. He would always glance down to see what you were up to; his favourite moment would be when you would go to sit down and your thighs would be squeezed a bit under your skirt. 

Steve wondered what it would be like to be between them and eat you ou— 

“Would you like a bite?” you whispered, bringing him out of a haze. 

“W-what?” he genuinely thought he was caught in his escapades. 

“Maybe we could order some take out. If you weren’t busy tonight, of course.” The shyness in your eyes and tone made Steve’s heart melt. 

“So pizza, Chinese, or maybe something new in town that you haven’t tried before? Take your pick, sweetheart.” Steve winked as he sat on the little rattan couch you just put pumpkin-themed pillows on. 

The sweet pet names he had been calling you this evening have been making you giggle every time out of pure giddiness. Even as the name slipped from his lips, and his figure sat in front of you with arms spread wide, waiting for you to join him; you prayed that he wouldn’t notice the way you sat to his left with slightly shaky legs in excitement. Truthfully, it wasn’t helping that he put his arm respectfully behind your back and would fix your hair whenever it fell close to your face throughout your next conversations. You felt like you were experiencing your first crush ever, that’s how excited you were. Adding your little delusions of grandeur to the mix, and you were equally as hypnotized with Steve as he secretly was with you. 

It had been so long since someone had taken the time out of their day to slyly flirt with you. Adding the fact that there was a sunset happening from the corner of your eyes, with the lit up candles and slowly appearing stars becoming witnesses to your sweet autumn evening with Steve; it was all aspects to becoming one of your favourite nights to happen since moving in. 

-:-:-:-:-

Once the white cartons full of noodles, fried rice, chicken balls, and steamed vegetables arrived, you and Steve stayed on the balcony to bask in the cool autumn evening. Luckily, you kept blankets nearby for moments like these. So the two of you continued to talk under the coziness of the fluffy fabric and dim lighting of the fake candles. 

Just as Steve finished up his large portion of noodles, he leaned back to stare at the ceiling. “These are really nice. You could be a professional decorator one day,” he teased you. His actions made you mirror his neck movement. 

“As long as I can borrow your ladder then I’ll be set,” you giggled. 

“Or I can always help you out too,” he looked to his left to see the silhouette of your face. The glow from the lights made you look like a beautiful doll. 

“I’ll pay you in Chinese takeout,” a small dimple on your cheek showed your giddiness. 

“Deal,” Steve sat up slightly and turned his body towards you. “Another option would be for you to come to my party next weekend. All my friends will be there and everyone goes all out with their costumes.” 

Just as the words were said, you looked up at him, then to the metal railing behind the rattan couch. It had been placed at the separator between your two balconies. Knowing that you actually made a friend who lived so close to you, caused a warm feeling through your body — one that made you cuddle in deeper with your blanket. “Really? You’d like me there?” 

“Of course. Someone who doesn’t invite their pretty neighbour to a party they’re hosting needs to be out of their mind,” considering that Steve’s roommate has never spoken to you, it could be seen as a miracle to be invited over. 

“Well then it looks like I gotta go through my closet to find a costume,” you smiled. 

The sparkle in your eyes, reflecting the light shimmer of the lights above, hypnotized Steve. “Why do I feel like you already have at least five options in mind?”

“Only three.” 

“Would you tell me?” Steve chuckled at the way you took a bite of egg roll in order to hide your excitement. 

“No, it’s a surprise,” you looked away from your neighbour’s gaze. 

In truth, you had about thirty ideas in mind, but there was no need for your new friend to find out that you had a collection of clothes you bought from the thrift shop — with its only purpose being for last-minute costume parties. Everything from a vampire to a zombie, there were at least enough costumes for everyone in the party in the first place. Admittedly, a part of you wondered what Steve was going to wear. Throughout this evening, you saw the way his muscles were so defined. Even now, as he put an arm on the couch, above your shoulders but not touching them, you wished so badly that he would dress in anything that would show them off. 

God, you really did sound so boy-crazy for your neighbour of all people. 

It really wasn’t helping that Steve brought his arm down slightly to pull you in closer, mentally giving himself the excuse that he wanted to keep you warm. “Then, would you help me decorate?” 

“I knew there was a catch,” you giggled before slapping him lightly on the chest. “But, yes I will. I still have so much decor left in the storage locker from back home.” 

“Just not these lights though. I swear my arms are about to fall off,” the man tensed his shoulders dramatically.  

“Fine, there are probably some sort of easy string lights we could use though. The ones with the little pumpkins are too cute, and maybe —”

“Our friends are gonna love you.” Steve accidentally cut you off by letting his thoughts be heard aloud. 

Anyone from a mile away could see the way the man’s demeanour softened as you spoke. Even his own voice was so soft, yet deep. The sound resonated through your body — causing a few shivers to roll up your spine. The moment anyone hears the way he speaks with you, they’re all going to berate him about it forever. Yet, Steve could already tell that Robin was going to love your excitement about life, or the way Dustin would adore how you listened so intently in any given situation. Well, mostly everyone he knew was talkative anyways, so a good listener was something they all craved. 

“Our?” you asked, tilting your head to the side in slight confusion. 

“Yeah, they’re friends with Eddie too. A bunch of them are driving up from our hometown,” Steve noticed the way you backed away from his body a little, leaning closer to the left corner of the couch. 

“Right, right.”  

“Are you scared of him?” he asked concernedly. “You always seem so shy when he comes up.” 

The way Steve placed a caring hand on your thigh, above the blanket, made your heart flutter. But, you wanted to subdue any thoughts he had towards you disliking his roommate. “W-well, no, not at all. It’s just—”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” 

Well, it’s now or never. Millions of scenarios went through your head — both reality-filled moments, and imaginative possibilities of what you believed Eddie’s ill-fitting thoughts were in that situation. But, would it be polite to even mention your concerned thoughts? What if Eddie found out that you were gossiping to his roommate? That could make the situation worse, making him believe that you enjoyed talking about people behind their backs. 

Alas, you decided to keep it vague. 

“No, uhm, I just don’t think Eddie likes me so much,” you shrugged before smiling at Steve. 

“That’s not true,” he would know. Now would probably be a horrible time to mention the amount of girls Eddie invites over who had similar hairstyles to you; or there was even one time you were wearing a new sweater, and Eddie was able to find someone wearing the exact same one then proceeded to take them out that night. 

The lengths his stubborn roommate would go through astounded Steve. The little gossip fiend within him desperately wished to know your perspective of the curly-haired man. 

“He looks at me all funny when we take the elevator together, or whenever we are in the hallway at the same time,” you pouted. 

“How so?” Steve asked, his arm reaching around you now a little tighter. You savoured the warmth immensely, causing you to lean your head on his shoulder comfortably.  

“There was this one time this girl was in the elevator with me and so I started talking to her since I really loved the purse she had, plus she seemed super nice,” you paused for a moment as you looked up to Steve, almost placing your chin on his side. “She was, by the way.” 

The puzzle pieces were connecting in his head. “Was she the one with the blue streaks in her hair? Kinda tall?” 

A light gasp fell from your lips as you moved away from Steve to have better eye contact. It almost felt like second nature to put your hands on his left thigh as you became more immersed in the storytelling. In truth, the man next to you was about to lose his mind. Just as you found your balance, your right hand was a bit too close to his member. The young Harrington prayed that you didn’t move much more, as your arms squeezing together made your cleavage become more visible as you continued to speak. 

“And then when we got to our floor,” you said after nodding. “She was walking with me and said she was heading in the same direction. So after a few minutes, Eddie opened the door to see what the chatter was all about. H-he looked so mad.” 

“You probably woke him up from his nap,” Steve chuckled at the way your voice became quiet with the last few words. 

“I suppose so. Then I said goodbye to the girl and she went into your apartment with Eddie. The door wasn’t even closed by the time they started — you know — making out.” 

There it was: the confirmation that you and him were definitely thinking about the same girl. But, what intrigued Steve more, was the way a hint of awkwardness and jealousy flashed before your eyes. Then, as you bit your lip, Steve wished so badly to kiss them until they were more plump. 

He really needed to stop himself. 

“Munson must’ve been real stressed that day then. He only calls her up when he is,” Steve leaned his forehead closer to yours. 

“Why would he call up his girlfriend only when he’s in a bad mood?” you couldn’t help but lean closer as you asked the question, completely oblivious to Eddie’s situation. 

“Oh, sweet girl. That is definitely not his girlfriend,” the man chuckled politely as he leaned close to your face.

“But they were —”

You barely got the words out before Steve’s lips bypassed yours. The deep amber notes of his cologne filled the air as his breath tickled your ear sweetly. Just this small movement made you gasp in surprise before smiling to yourself. A pleasurable chill went up your spine as he whispered deeply into your ear. 

“Do you know what friends with benefits are?” He asked, his right hand placed softly on the side of your face. “They just fuck whenever they feel like it. They’re not actually together though.” 

As secretly as you could, you squeezed your thighs together as the words were felt between your legs. Steve’s small touches, his low voice, his soft brown eyes — it all made you want to kiss him so sweetly. There was a part of your brain that craved it, the same part that was imagining what it would be like if he were to lean a little closer and place kisses down your neck. 

And oh, Steve was wondering the same things as you. The way your body was reacting was making him notice how your breathing hitched. His eyes even saw the way your thighs squeezed together. The man wasn’t sure if it was the blanket or both of your beating hearts that made everything feel so warm. 

“Oh, this is my first time hearing about this,” you finally breathed out. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so vulgar,” he smiled as he touched your chin to look at him. 

“No, you weren’t,” you giggled. “I’m still a little confused though. Does Eddie like having sex when he’s in a bad mood?” 

“Don’t you? It brings out the passion in him, I think. Hate sex and all that,” Steve rambled casually. 

You move away slightly to laugh to yourself before looking up at Steve again. “So maybe he doesn’t hate me that much since he doesn’t want to have sex with me.” 

If that’s what you want to believe. 

“Well, I can tell you that he definitely doesn’t hate you in a bad way.” 

“You’re so sweet to me, Steve.” He weirdly knew just how to comfort you, even after only knowing you for a short while. 

“What type of neighbour would I be if I didn’t help you with your worries?” He leaned back slightly and twirled his fingers in the air, symbolizing for you to turn around. So you did, slightly tilting your body and following Steve’s lead to have you lean a bit on his front as he started massaging your shoulders. 

You were so beautiful like this, to the point where the man couldn’t help but be entranced by your delicate skin and soft whimpers of relief as each moment passed. 

Just as much as Steve could tell that his roommate had a schoolboy crush on you, he desperately felt the same way too. The young Harrington was used to girls throwing themselves at him. Especially working the odd job here and there to make ends meet — there was no shortage of new women in his life. Just some flirting with someone at the bar and he could let out all of his pent up energy with someone. In the same way that Eddie had a tendency to go out with people after his shows, the apartment almost always had a guest of some sort. No one could count just how many times a sock on the door was used on a random day of the week, and not a Saturday night like a normal person. However, that all seemed to stop when you moved in. The day you came into town to look at the apartment for the first time, Eddie and Steve were hanging out on their own balcony and heard a soft voice from the slightly open window next door. 

There you were with a sweet smile and soft voice, it seemed to hypnotize both men instantly. After some prying, they found out through the landlord that you were one of ten people who had interest in renting the place next to them. Needless to say, the two men did everything in their power to seem like annoying, loud and obnoxious neighbours — thank God that Eddie’s band was up for the game too and decided to have rehearsal in the apartment for a few days. Slowly but surely, you were the last interested party; the goal that Steve and Eddie were aiming for. When you officially moved in, the playboy days were dwindling down for the roommates. Of course, there was maybe the bi-weekly partner whenever things became really stressful. However, sometimes a right hand and imagination go a long way. At the very least, Steve had more ammo than Eddie, since he actually spoke to you. Eddie just kept to himself about the crush and tried to do everything to forget about you. 

Such a stubborn man , Steve constantly thought. 

In truth, the men were not strangers when it came to sharing a partner or five. They were like a fantasy come to life when some women walked through the apartment doors. Imagine going home with a hot guitarist, only to head to his place and find a muscular pretty boy lounging on the couch in a tight white shirt. Anyone with a sound mind would feel their legs go numb at the thought of taking both men at once. 

Alas, Steve and Eddie were of sound mind as well. They knew that sharing was caring, and if all parties were up for it, then it was bound to be a long and pleasurable night for everyone. 

Currently, it was all up for the younger Harrington to see if you were even slightly interested. And by the way you bit your lip every time Eddie’s name was mentioned, or how your eyes would glaze over every time Steve would unintentionally flex his muscles; he hoped that maybe he would get the chance to place a soft kiss on your lips. Especially since his roommate would not be able to get rid of his stubbornness and make the first move on you.   

“Feels nice,” your voice brought him out of his thoughts. Slowly, your shoulders began to relax beneath his fingertips. “Sorry I kept asking about your roommate’s sex life.” In truth, you felt shy with the fact that you spoke so heavily on such a private matter with someone you barely knew.  

“It’s not a problem at all. You get so cute when an embarrassing topic comes up,” Steve whispered as he got close to your ear whilst massaging you. 

“Honestly, I’ve never really talked about this stuff with other people. Even my ex-boyfriend rarely spoke about it with me,” you said honestly as you closed your eyes.  

“Curious?” 

Softly, Steve placed a kiss on the back of your neck. The small action made you whimper accidentally. It shocked you in the nicest way possible, so much so, that you didn’t think before speaking. “I-I suppose. There are just a lot of things I want to experience but no one to do it with.”

“You don’t need to do it with anyone. You can always have some fun on your own,” Steve teased as his hands went further down your spine to massage you.  

“Oh, I can?” 

With soft eyes, you looked at him over your shoulder. You saw the way there was an intense look behind his gaze — full of fire and lust; it made you bite your lip out of excitement and desperation. Steve’s hands were barely massaging your back now, they were caressing your sides up and down. Every few movements he would brush against the bottom of your clothed-breasts before going back down again. It was causing tingles to vibrate throughout your body. In an instant, Steve kissed your shoulder before looking at you intensely. 

“These walls are thin, baby. I haven’t heard you bring anyone over. A pretty girl in a new city deserves to be taken out on dates. But, most importantly, I haven’t heard you touch yourself since you moved in either,” he teased, his face getting closer and closer to your face with each word. At this point, your lips were barely a centimetre apart. 

“How did you — there’s no time for me to try,” you said honestly with a pout. 

“Aweh, pretty girl is stressed out with everything going on, huh?” he whispered, his breath tickling your nose. 

“Yes, but this makes me feel so good,” you moaned as Steve’s fingers moved down to massage the sides of your thighs. “Do you talk like this to all your neighbours?” 

Steve chuckled as he stopped his movements to look at you with a grin. “Only the most beautiful ones. Especially the ones who want to help with my horrid interior design.” 

“So there really is a catch,” you giggled, hoping that Steve didn’t feel your cheeks warm up as he held your face in his hand. 

This was it, the smile you showed him, the lust in your eyes that increased as time went on, and the way you kept squeezing your thighs together — Steve was about to lose it. In so many ways, everything felt so easy-going with you. He could barely remember a time where he actually enjoyed having a conversation so mundane with anyone. 

“I wanna kiss you so bad,” he thought aloud. 

“Please do.”

With that, both of you leaned forwards to feel the softness of each other’s lips. It was a kiss that was so unchaste that you prayed no one would even attempt to look into the balcony. Goodness knows that there actually is a very religious old lady who lives above you. So a near impossibility floated through your head, wondering if she had the flexibility to use the fire escape. But, that thought easily left your head as you felt Steve’s tongue tease your lips. That, along with his hands roaming your entire body made you moan just enough for him to tease his tongue with yours. 

In truth, you couldn’t handle the angle of twisting your body around, so you moved the blanket slightly before moving your back a little straighter. Steve got the message and moved forwards too, to allow you to be more comfortable as the kiss progressed. After a few moments, he had you lay down on the arm of the couch, secretly placing a pillow above your head in the process. 

You looked so angelic like this. With the light from the fake candles above making you glow from your hair to your eyes to your smile, Steve wished so badly that he was able to capture this moment forever. Even as you slowed down the kiss to catch your breath, the small noises you were making only solidified the fact that he adored this night. Slowly, Steve kissed down your neck, noting the way you whimpered louder when he hit your pulsepoint. When you arched your back, it coincided with the moment the man placed a hand right above your breast. The cold autumn air made your nipples a bit hard, even through the dress you were wearing. As if by instinct, Steve pushed the neckline of the fabric down so that he was able to bare more of your soft skin to the evening stars. 

“Such pretty tits,” he whispered as he exposed your nipples to the cool air. Steve’s mouth began to drool at the thought of putting his mouth on them. “It’s a shame it’s almost winter time and they’re gonna be covered up.” 

“Well, you don’t know my costume yet,” you giggled sweetly as you unknowingly lifted your body up, bringing your breasts closer to his mouth.  

So, the man kissed down your skin, ensuring to linger on his lips in his path. “What’re you gonna be? A bunny? Little puppy?” he teased, placing a chaste kiss onto both of your hardened buds with the final two questions. 

“I was thinking of a pirate. Could be really nice with a little dress and a corset—oh,” you moaned as Steve sucked and bit your nipple. 

“You’ll be the death of me that night,” he whispered onto your chest as one hand moved the blanket to the side and began massaging your bare thighs. 

“Not if you get to me first,” you giggled. The man’s hands were moving further and further up your thighs before it reached a sliver of lace. Desperately, you moved your hips forwards and squeezed your thighs together to give yourself some level of relief. No one has ever dreamed more for someone’s hands to move faster. “What if people see?”

The question filled your mind as the cool air seemed to touch more of your skin. A mixture of hot and cold overwhelmed you now, alongside conflicted feelings about whether or not to ask Steve to bring the activities inside. 

However, if the throbbing between your legs was telling you one thing, it was to please find the climax of your pleasure as soon as possible. 

“We’re on one of the top floors, plus everyone is inside already,” Steve comforted you, moving his body upwards to kiss you sweetly. 

“How about Eddie?” you asked in a whisper. 

“Not home for another hour, I think,” he mirrored the volume of your voice as he continued to kiss your cheek and neck. 

“Oh, alright, keep going,” you smiled whilst helping the man out by lifting the skirt of your dress higher in order to expose more of your thighs to the cool-air. 

Steve nearly came in his pants as he looked down to see the glowing skin. “Yeah?” he teased, biting your ear in the process. 

With one last kiss down your neck, the man next to you looked down to see the way your arousal was seeping through your black lace panties. Even in the darkness of the evening, your thighs were glistening with the wetness that has grown throughout the night. Steve took a moment to capture the image of you squeezing your thighs and rocking them slightly to satiate your desperation, before slowly taking his hand and removing the drenched fabric from you. Once it was off, your pussy began to throb in anticipation as to what was going to happen next. 

You both looked down to see how Steve’s hand slowly made its way between your thighs. He was so easily able to make you bite your lip and look back and forth between his focused face and his large hand. 

“Please, touch me,” you begged sweetly, moving your hips upwards to get his fingers to meet your needy clit. 

“Like this?” the words barely left his lips before he finally touched the wetness between your thighs. He began to massage the little nub in circular movements, then from side to side. Any small touch was enough to make you mewl and lean your head on his shoulder as you moaned in pure ecstasy. “So sensitive, doll.” 

“Feels so nice, Steve. I need more.” Moans and whimpers were releasing from your throat like a song. 

Steve decided on a fast pattern that made you breathe heavily next to him. You were so beautiful like this, so needy and throbbing beneath the evening skies. The cool air made your nipples hard, silently begging Steve's lips to go upon them again. However, he wanted to kiss you first, savouring the way he was drinking up every moan and whimper you were emitting, whilst his other hand went to massage and squeeze your breasts softly. 

It was when the man next to you slowly inserted one finger into your wet hole, that you moaned louder than you have tonight. “I-I-Steve, I really like that,” you whimpered incoherently between kisses. 

“Can I add another one?” he asked with a smile against your lips, but you barely needed to nod before your hips were thrusting themselves upwards in excitement, urging another finger inside of you to stretch you out. 

“More,” you whispered as you arched your back. Steve continued to thrust his fingers deep inside you, his thumb massaging your clit every few movements. He wanted to continue this moment of ecstasy by kissing down your neck and then going to suck on your hardened nipples. 

“You’re so beautiful like this. So wet for me. Look how well you’re taking me.” 

“Your fingers are so much thicker than mine,” you giggled through bitten lips. 

“When was the last time you’ve been fucked, doll?” Steve asked as he looked up at you as he sucked on your left nipple, the most sensitive of the two. 

The question was a simple one, one that embarrassed you quite a bit. But, remembering what it was like to be stretched out, made you throb upon Steve’s thick fingers. Your mind couldn’t stop itself from wondering one thing: what would it be like if the man before you was going to be the one stretching you out. 

Judging by the hardness that he has been sporting for the past little while, you had a pretty good idea. 

“It’s been too long. Months, Steve,” you admitted. “C-can you, please help me?” 

You wished so badly to be more vulgar with your words; however, your brain was so focused on the climax of your pleasure, and the fact that Steve’s fingers were thrusting in and out of you at a faster pace. 

“Not even a toy? Hairbrush? How about using a cute pillow as something to rub your pretty pussy on?” Steve’s perverted mind kept urging him to ask the questions. He noted the way your heat clenched with each word. 

“No, I have no time,” you moaned loudly. This time, Steve kneeled in front of you now, leaving your breasts feeling colder as the wind hit the trail of saliva he left. 

“You poor thing. Well, looks like we gotta find a way to let out all your pent up stress,” he kissed your clit sweetly with the last word. 

The words failed to leave your throat. Instead, a breathy moan escaped instead. Steve began to kiss and lick your sensitive clit as his thick fingers were making their way inside of you. This felt like such a dream. There have been countless nights where you have awoken from a rather active imagination — wondering what it would feel like if your neighbour were to help you release your sexual energy. The dating game has not been extremely friendly to you, and the only person who has come up in your mind as someone who made your legs involuntarily squeeze together, was your neighbour. 

But which neighbour exactly? 

It would be a lie to say that only Steve has been the main focus. Sometimes you have dreamed that it was Eddie thrusting his silver ring-clad fingers inside of you. Maybe it was both of them at the same time. But, good god, Steve was so good that you nearly forgot everything in your brain. His soft lips began to suck on your clit, circling it with his tongue slowly. He noticed how you would clench on his fingers and gush a little more if he sucked hard and moved his fingers upwards. And so, he did it over and over until you were moaning so loud that he could even hear it when your thighs squeezed around his head. 

“You’re so good at this, Stevie. My pussy feels nicer than it ever has,” you thought aloud. 

“And here I thought you were too embarrassed to do it outside,” he winked up at you before going down to kiss your swollen clit. 

“Maybe I’ll use a blanket to cover you up a bit, just in case,” you smiled before putting the warm fabric upon his shoulders. 

“Such a sweet girl,” he whispered onto your clit, with two meanings behind the words. 

Remembering how nice it felt when Steve’s lips and fingers were squeezing your nipples, you mirrored his previous actions with your hands. Thankfully, it added a little bit of warmth to your skin. 

“I-I’m so close, Steve.” 

“Gonna get louder for me, doll? Your noises are so fucking nice.” He started to thrust his thick fingers inside of you faster. He was able to hit a sweet spot that made you cry out in ecstasy.

“Someone might hear, Steve,” you whimpered as you grasped onto his hair with one hand. 

The man looked up at you and winked whilst sucking on your clit. You couldn’t stop staring at the hazel eyes, focusing on them and the pleasure he was able to give you. However, it was when his eyes broke eye contact with you, that your heart dropped to your stomach. 

“It’s a bit too late for that.” 

Fuck. 

The voice was familiar, clouded by a raspiness that made your body shiver. Then, there was the smell of cigarettes lingering in the air that felt comforting to your senses in the cold weather. No matter how much you knew you should turn around and confirm who was behind you, your instincts knew exactly who it was. So you didn’t take your gaze away from Steve, who gave your clit one last kiss before straightening his back — his fingers were still knuckle-deep inside of you. 

“When did you get back?” Steve asked with a tilt to his head. 

“Like five minutes ago. I stopped by the grocery to get eggs and some sliced cheese because we ran out yesterdat,” Eddie said calmly. 

How dare they act so nonchalant as you lay here, extremely exposed to the elements? 

“Thanks, man,” Steve nodded as he took his roommate’s cigarette for a slight puff. His movements made his fingers inside of you twitch slightly 

This made you turn around to see the curly-haired man leaning on the railing that separated your two balconies. He probably hates you so much right now. Every time you two have interacted, it has been moments of silence and awkward stares. This was surely the most awkward situation of them all. Thus, you got some of the blanket to cover yourself up, covering your chest and the top of your thighs. 

For some reason though, everything seemed to excite you. Steve noticed it too, how you were getting wetter and wetter by the second. It made him smirk when he looked down to see your thighs squeezing together slightly. 

“Did you invite more people to the party this weekend?” Steve continued. 

“Nah, I think our guest list is finalized,” Eddie shrugged without breaking eye contact with you. It was you who looked away first. 

“Add in our neighbour here, she said she’ll help us with decorating too,” he added, about to give you the cigarette before you shook your head. 

“Steve,” you whispered annoyedly, your eyes looking between his own and the hand between your legs. 

He got a hint, not the right one, but a hint nonetheless. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Steve simultaneously gave Eddie the cigarette back whilst thrusting his fingers in and out of your throbbing centre. 

It felt so nice that you tilted your head back without realizing you did so. With bitten lips and a slightly frustrated whimper, you were about to respond. Instead, it was Eddie who spoke up first, looking at the both of you. 

“Cool, it won’t be too crowded anyways. Maybe I’ll head out and find a costume,” Eddie said. It would be a lie to say he didn’t glance over to see the glistening arousal on Steve’s fingers. 

“If you see a punch bowl then buy it, I think the one we have broke,” Steve said nonchalantly as he easily brought his other hand to your core and started to circle your clit. 

The pleasure was becoming too much. The sound of both their voices was doing things to your body which were inexplicable. Adding the warmth of the blanket around you, you began to sweat with pure eroticism running through your veins. But, you weren’t about to orgasm in such an embarrassing situation, with a neighbour who always seemed to be on his last nerve around you. 

“I can't do this,” you whispered. Steve stopped his movements and placed his hands on your thighs instead, looking at you with concern. “This is so embarrassing.” 

“Eddie and I have walked in on each other dozens of times, it’s fine, doll.” 

“It’s true,” the dealer admitted. “I’ll leave you two to it.” 

“N-no,” you exclaimed. Closing your legs and turning your body towards Eddie’s. 

Unsure of what came over your body, you bit your lip, looking between the two men. Your entire sex life has been filled with mediocre relations — men who just enjoyed the missionary position more than anything else. Even if you asked for a little bit of a change, the guys would pretend to be up for it. But, in the final minute, claim that the previous actions have worked before, so there was no need to try something new. But right now, your body is on fire in the best way possible. This was a situation that only your imagination could think of. But this wasn’t a fantasy, this was the realest your life has been thus far since moving into this apartment. The throbbing between your legs only solidified your feelings. However, you did want to get something out of the way first. 

“Do you hate me more now?” You whispered to the curly-haired man before you. 

“Why do you say that?” Eddie asked in return, leaning over the railing and placing a hand on your cheek. 

“This is the most you’ve ever spoken around me, a-and it’s such a lewd act I’m in.” The words fell from your lips, tears welling up in your eyes slightly. 

Steve noticed the nervousness exuding from your body, so he slowly drew soft circles on your thighs to comfort you. He knew that Eddie probably had a million thoughts in his head, but he wanted to hear it be said from the man himself.  

“Oh, sweetheart, I don’t hate you,” Eddie wiped a tear from your cheek. “I-I—” 

“Say it, Munson. Admit it already,” Steve teased. Eddie looked at him in a slight annoyance before looking at you again. 

“What does he mean?” You asked sweetly. 

“I-I want you. Fuck , I’ve always wanted you from the start. But you seemed so angelic, so untouchable. It pissed me off that you were so close yet I didn’t have the guts to talk to you.” 

His words shocked you, so much so that you gasped and looked away from him. Your head turned towards Steve who gave you a sweet smile. The men before you seemed to read each other’s minds as they looked at you with a warmth that filled your body. For a moment, you pulled yourself away from Steve’s touch on your legs, and Eddie’s hand on your cheek and sat close to the corner of the couch. In that second of contemplation, you tried to listen to the millions of thoughts running through your brain.  

However, it was Steve whose voice comforted you amongst your thoughts. “Are you alright, doll?” 

All you could do was nod as a response. 

“I’ll be going —” Eddie said as he finished his cigarette and put it out on the ground. 

“N-no, stay here. Please, Eddie.” It came out as a desperate plea. 

“You mean that, sweetheart?” The man asked you. 

With a look in your eyes that told the world that you were so unsure of where the situation would go next, you looked towards Steve, who was kneeling next to you. He smiled at you so sweetly that you brought your face close to his and kissed him chastely. A moment later, you brought your body upwards, blanket still covering you, and sat up near Eddie’s figure. 

“I mean it. I need you, the both of you,” the words were so filled with lust that it shocked the roommates. 

Steve went to stand behind you, a hand grasping your hip and pushing you forwards slightly. With a soft whisper in your ear, he said, “you know exactly what you want to do next, don’t you, doll?” The man winked at his roommate before moving your hair to the side to kiss the back of your neck, his eyes still looking at you and Eddie. 

And so, with a deep breath and a hand on the guitarist's cheek, you leaned forward by merely an inch. There was barely a need to move far as Eddie was meeting your halfway. The smell of tobacco filled your senses for a moment. But then, whether it was a gust of wind, Steve’s kiss upon your neck making you tingle, or you and Eddie’s bodies moving simultaneously — you kissed him. You kissed him so deeply that you moaned into the kiss as if it was something you have been longing for. 

You have. 

So has he. 

So has Steve, but he was going to keep his perverted thoughts to himself for the next little while as he saw the way you were finding pleasure just through kisses. Also, if the way Eddie’s cheeks were blushing with each movement and touch your fingers laid upon his collarbone, he definitely was enjoying this just as equally. 

“Look at you, doll, you look so pretty when you get what you want,” Steve teasingly whispered in your ear. “Needy girl.” 

“Am not,” you pouted as you separated your lips from Eddie’s to look at the man behind you. “I just know what I like,” you giggled. 

Steve chuckled with you as he took his turn to kiss you now. Eddie took the opportunity to jump the railing and find his way to the couch seat next to you. The man pushed the blanket down to expose your breasts to the cool-air again, taking a moment to admire the way they bounced every time you moved your head slightly to deepen the kiss you were sharing with his roommate. 

“Fuck, they’re so perfect,” Eddie whispered loudly to himself. 

“They’re so sore,” you teased, bringing a hand up to squeeze your right nipple. The pleasure from the pinch, as well as Steve’s lips leaving little love bites on the left side of your neck made you moan. 

“Oh, I can definitely help you with that, sweet girl.” After the words left his mouth, Eddie brought himself closer to you. After going to kiss you once and winking at Steve in the process, he dove down to suck on your tits in a motion that caused you to lean forward to feel more of the pleasure. 

You didn’t notice, however, the way your hips were grinding on the squished pillow that found its way beneath your thighs. Steve saw how you were riding your waves of ecstasy with all of the sensations you were feeling. He swears his cock couldn’t handle it now. So much so, that he leaned back from you to stroke his hardness through the fabric of his pants. Even the little bit of pressure made him moan alongside you now. 

The noise made you turn around to see the way Steve’s cheeks reddened as he stared at you and Eddie like his own personal porno. “Having a hard time, Stevie?” Eddie teased between licks to your breasts. 

“Fuck off, man. My doll looks so beautiful like this. I’ve been hard for hours.” 

“Would you want some help with that?” you giggled as you pushed Eddie further onto the couch, nearly laying on top of him. All in order to bend over in front of Steve. 

“Still so wet,” he said deeply, admiring the glistening arousal between your legs and the roundness of your bottom. 

“Please, Steve. Your fingers felt so nice, but I want to be stretched out by something more,” you nearly whined. 

Eddie was kissing your neck now, loving the way your voice sounded when you begged. “Come on, big boy. Looks like our girl can take it.” 

“I’ll take you real nice,” Steve said as he stroked his fingers from your clit to your sopping hole. “Will you tell me if it becomes too much?” 

In truth, this was the most exhilarating your have ever felt during a moment of sexual relations with another man, let alone two. Everything before this was so vanilla, that anything besides the usual seemed scary. However, this didn't. This made you want to experience pleasure whilst giving it simultaneously. Adding the fact that someone may see at any moment was causing waves of thrill and excitement to flow through your being. Steve must have seen the plethora of emotions in your eyes, as he was so hypnotized by them. 

“I promise. Now, please,” you moaned while bringing your butt back to grind on Steve’s clothed-hardness. Even through the layers you could feel the heat emitting from it. 

“Your wish is my command.” With that, he pushed his pants and started to tease your entrance with his tip. 

Although you couldn’t see it as you looked back from your left shoulder, you could tell it was thick. So thick in fact, that even him spreading your folds was enough to make you whimper and giggle. 

“He’s never had a complaint thus far,” Eddie whispered in your ear before kissing you again. 

“Maybe I’ll give a review—oh,” you moaned into Eddie’s lips as Steve slowly entered your throbbing pussy. 

“That’s it, taking me so well,” he said, thrusting into you at a slow but pleasurable pattern. Inch by inch, he swears that heaven was before his eyes. Seeing the way you held onto Eddie’s shoulders with a tighter grip made Steve smile with the amount of ecstasy you were feeling. 

“F-faster, please, Steve. I h-haven’t felt this good in so long,” you nearly began to move your hips to meet with his thrusts. Desperately, achingly, you adored the way his cock felt inside you. Each throb was met with a new inch for you to get used to, and it was the easiest thing to fall in love with. 

Before you could even take a breath after saying a sentence, Steve grabbed your hips tightly and began to rock into you faster and faster. Eddie looked at his roommate with pride, noting how entranced Steve looked as he fucked you deeper and deeper. Then, when the dealer looked at you, and the way you bit your lip and placed your head on his shoulder because of all the ecstasy you were experiencing — Eddie had never thanked the gods of fate more than he was right now. For some reason, he was feeling utterly horny beyond belief throughout the day and promised himself when he got home he would smoke a bit and indulge in some X-rated films and a squishy plastic toy. The fact that he got every green light on the way home, and his parking spot wasn’t taken by the annoying downstairs neighbour; it was like the universe wanted him to be home right on time to get a live show of you and Steve on the verge of fucking. 

Now, as your body squished against Eddie’s, your thighs brushing against his hardness, he swears he could get off on only this. 

“Can I suck you off, Eddie?” The words brought him out of his thoughts. 

They were the best words to do so, too. 

“Oh, my darling. You seem to be enjoying Stevie over here,” he kissed you as you moaned loudly, wanting to drink up your sounds. 

“But, I need you too. My mouth feels s-so lonely.” You pouted as you brought your left hand down to place a trail of light touches from Eddie’s neck to his stomach then to his bulge beneath his jeans. 

“He’s big, doll. Are you sure you can take our two cocks?” Steve leaned down to whisper in your ear as he continued to thrust into you. 

“Yes, I can. I promise it’ll be alright,” you whimpered as you felt Steve throbbing within you, before turning your face to pout and say: “he’s so hard too.” 

With a grip to Eddie’s hardness below, you stroked it through the denim to emphasize your point. When you finally got a moment to breathe, you looked down to see just how thick — and maybe even longer — Eddie was in comparison to his roommate. Just like Steve was doing before, you slightly drooled and looked at the rockstar’s member with hypnotized eyes. 

“It’s a dream come true. Isn’t that right, Munson?” Steve teased as he went to straighten his back and continue thrusting into you. 

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently. In truth, the possibility of Eddie dreaming about this moment made you clench slightly; the younger Harrington definitely felt it. 

“I mean — fuck — he’s been waiting for you, doll.” 

“Harrington, I swear to god,” the other man said through clenched teeth, due to both the pleasure of your hands and his roommate’s annoying mouth. 

“Have you dreamed about me, Eddie?” You looked at the man in question now whilst biting your lip. “Pictured me just like this: fucked out in front of you?” 

This was a look that neither man has seen in your eyes before: one that was filled with lust and teasing. Every time before this, you had such a serene and sweet look behind your eyes, with the remnants of a smile always lingering on your face. But this, this was as if you were a succubus on earth for the two roommates before you. The drool dripping from your lips was enough to solidify that thought. “Every night,” Eddie grunted. 

“Your cock is so long,” you said with a whimper. “May I?”

“Please,” Eddie was able to say in his haze, right before you started to unzip his pants slowly. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me.” 

The words made you throb harder on Steve’s cock as he thrusted into you, making you imagine the moment when the two roommates would switch places. The younger Harrington was staring at you both like he was watching his favourite film come to life. Even the words you were saying were right out of an erotic movie he saw the other day. 

“Can I ride you one day?” You whispered to Eddie, kissing down his shaft slowly. 

“You’re so needy,” Steve grunted. “Just the thought is making your pussy throb on me — unh, fuck ,” he moaned. 

It’s true, getting a taste of Eddie made you throb slightly at pleasure of it all. Especially once you started to lick the head, tasting the precum and hearing the guitarist moan above you, you felt yourself throb around Steve harder and harder. 

“Sweetheart, are you gonna be our good little fuck toy?” Eddie asked once you started to envelop your lips around his cock.

The image of you looking up at him and drooling over his hardness will be something ingrained in his mind forever. Then the humming got louder and louder as you nodded, causing vibrations to flow through Eddie’s cock. It felt so good that he tilted his head back slightly as you moaned on him, the warm and sucking sensation only making him get closer to the edge. After a moment he looked down to see that the source of your mouth’s vibrations weren’t just due to the fast pace Steve was thrusting into you; but it was also the fact that younger Harrington also was reaching down to circle his fingers in your clit. 

You were so overwhelmed with pleasure that your hands took over now to squeeze Eddie’s hardness, all so you could whimper and moan loudly for both men to hear. 

Here’s hoping the neighbours won’t complain tonight. 

“Your mouth is so good, you know that?” Eddie said in a tone deeper than usual. 

“I can take you deeper, use my throat, Eddie,” you looked up at him whilst moving your hips to meet with Steve’s. The pleasure was overtaking all of your bodies now. 

“I wanna see you cum while you’re sucking my cock, can you do that for me?”  

“Y-yes,” you nodded quickly, your hand stroking him faster out of pure eagerness.  

Eddie smiled, nearly sinisterly. “Can you do that for me, Harrington?” 

“We both know I can,” Steve grunted, moving faster into you. 

In truth, he was so happy that Eddie said those words. Steve swears he was about to combust at any moment, but he was just waiting for you to find the climax of your pleasure. He was only praying that he would last longer. However, with the way you were throbbing so beautifully on him, nearly glowing with ecstasy, Steve wanted to see the climax of it all. “That’s it, pretty girl,” Steve teased, he knew exactly what you needed to bring you closer and closer to the edge. “You look so pretty with two cocks in you. This is what you wanted, huh?” 

“Yes, yes, every night I think about it,” a loud groan fell from your lips as you responded, Steve’s cock hitting you from an angle that was hitting your sweet spot over and over. Then, Eddie was the one who felt the remnants of your pleasure — with your hands and mouth going back to milking his own hardness in the process. 

“Looks like we’re all on the same page. The amount of times I’ve imagined fucking you on this balcony. You look so pretty when you’re reading here in your little shorts.” 

Who knew the exhibitionist bug within Steve rubbed off on you in more ways than one? 

“Keep going, Steve,” Eddie moaned as he gripped your hair with his right hand. “I think she’s close. Sweetheart loves to hear how pretty and fuckable she is.” 

“Feels nice,” you whispered quickly before going back to suck harder. 

“Oh yeah? You should hear about Eddie’s little escapades about you, doll.” 

All you could do was tilt your head whilst The guitarist was still inside your mouth. Eddie got the hint as he looked into your eyes, his hardness thrusting deeper and deeper into your throat slowly as he spoke. “Every time I see you in the hallways I swear I can’t control myself. I feel like such a perv with the dreams that float through my head.”

The man barely had a moment to savour the feeling of being fully into your mouth now, because you released him quickly to tease. “Wanna make them come true one day?” You asked with a wink. 

“One of them already is, sweetheart,” Eddie smiled, noting the way your legs began to tremble as Steve continued to circle your clit again whilst hitting the soft spot within you with his cock. 

“Now how about you cum for us to really make this dream one to remember?” the man behind you said.  

“Faster,” you nodded, accepting his challenge. 

“Good girl.” 

The words were echoing through the air, but you weren’t sure who said it. In truth, it could have been both of them. The roommates were so prone to playing off of each other, seeing what exactly the third person liked and enjoyed. Most of them adored it when one of them was sweet whilst the other was slightly degrading. Some wanted them both to be a little mean. But then there was you, who enjoyed the feeling of being praised and teased like such a good girl for them. So with the words echoing in your head, of different compliments which bordered the line of perversion each time — you swear that the pleasure you’ve been feeling had been turned up a thousand times. On one hand, Steve was doing such a good job on you: thrusting back and forth into your throbbing hole, whilst bending down to circle your nub. The stretch was everything you needed after such a long time of being single and busy with life. From behind you, he would whisper just loud enough for you to hear. 

“Such a sweet girl for me, huh? So tight and wet for us,” he would chant like a prayer — a prayer to the gods who were probably looking down upon this scene from the starry sky. Steve was nearly thanking them for putting him in this moment where he was able to see how you nodded in response upon Eddie’s cock, and then feeling your pussy throb below as you reacted to the little compliment. 

Then, there was Eddie, who was doing such a wonderful job stroking your hair lovingly as you looked up at him. Now it was your turn to give the pleasure, noticing how Eddie would thrust his own hips upwards into your mouth every time you squeezed his balls with the right amount of pressure. He also adored the way your moans would vibrate through his own body every time you felt good. So the guitarist used his skilled fingers to reach down and use one hand to twist your lonely nipples. The way you would moan and whimper was felt on him ten-fold. With a light grip on the side of your hair, he would help you swallow more and more of his cock: his main goal wanting to feel your ecstasy. 

“If we knew you were so horny, these holes would have had a lot of fun by now,” Eddie teased as he saw your eyes start to roll back a little. “Come for us, sweetheart.” 

With that, Eddie looked at the way you nodded up at him with pleasure-filled tears in your eyes. Your climax was so close now as your moans became louder and the grip on Eddie’s shaft tightened. 

Eddie looked up at Steve with a smile, knowing that his roommate was close to the edge as well. And so, Steve circled your clit faster and faster — the movement making your pussy throb. It wasn’t until you gave one hard suck on Eddie, tasting his cum, while Steve massaged your nub at the right angle that it happened. You felt the orgasm take over your entire body in an instant; it was like a vibration that you didn’t know how to control. It was evident to everyone on the balcony that your climax was extremely overwhelming. You were arching your back more, creating another angle for Steve to thrust into you. All while you had to let go of Eddie, who was inside of your mouth, in order to release your moans to the world. Your hands continued to stroke his hardness until you saw that his hot tip was ready. With a slightly open mouth, you looked up at the man to show him you were ready to taste his cum too. 

“Are you boys gonna cum for me too?” You teased sweetly. It was enough for both men to finally let go from the pent up ecstasy they were feeling. 

You were so beautiful, taking the creamy liquid everywhere. Moans filled your ears as both men thrust deeply inside of you; at the same time, you were being filled from two different holes as the men fell deeply in love with the feeling of your warmth. For all three of you to ride out your orgasms so sweetly, was the most erotic part of it all. With the situation nearly looking like it was out of a painting as all three of you took a few moments to bask in the evening breeze, a blanket intertwined between your bodies, and sweat glistening upon your skin. 

Both men looked at you with adoration, noting how you were glowing as you relaxed your body. Just as Eddie pulled out of your mouth first, grabbing one of the leftover napkins from dinner to wipe away at your mouth, he noticed how you had swallowed nearly all of it. 

You really were such a good girl , he thought but didn’t say aloud as he wiped your mouth that was covered in saliva. 

Then, Steve took his softening cock out of you, taking a moment to admire the creamy fluid in between your legs. He pushed your skirt down to cover you up and whispered,  “are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, thank you, Steve.” Your voice was tired out — mainly from all the moaning and whimpering you were just doing. The serene sound will never leave the men’s thoughts. 

“I hope we weren’t too rough on you,” Eddie sweetly chuckled whilst pulling you up to move your body and have you sit comfortably on the couch. 

“Not at all,” you giggled sweetly as you sat closer to the guitarist. “It was quite fun.” 

The giddiness in your voice was apparent as you smiled to yourself. Steve adored how you became slightly shy, even after all of the lewd acts you three have committed on this balcony. He would do anything to continue seeing the heat rush to your face, even in the coldest of weather. Just as he sat down on the couch, leaving you in between both men, Eddie continued to tease. 

“Yeah? Looks like we gave you a nice housewarming gift.” 

“Maybe we gotta christen every part of the apartment — it would only be right,” Steve said whilst smoothing the blanket over your thighs. 

“Is he always this kinky?” You questioned towards Eddie now, with a chuckle in your voice. 

“Oh yeah, sometimes if I know he invited this one girl over, I don’t go to the apartment for a few days so the smell of sex can leave the air,” Eddie groaned jokingly, putting an arm around you. 

Honestly, you do remember the way you heard a patterned noise that sounded really similar to a headboard hitting a wall, alongside moans and laughter. Your innocent mind genuinely thought that Steve was watching a funny movie with a date — not, well, you know . “That explains why you didn’t come the other weekend. I thought you hated me. Who knew it was because Steve is so horny.” 

“Hey, I didn’t bring you two together to gossip about me,” Steve gasped in disbelief as he saw the way you and Eddie had quickly gotten past the phase of awkwardness.  

“But it’s fun,” you pouted, moving over so your cheek could rest on Steve’s broad shoulder. 

“There’s definitely something more fun than this that I could think of,” Steve teased, looking in his roommate’s direction 

“Maybe we could —” you paused as you looked between both men, fearful that you looked too eager. 

But, they seemed to admire the excitement in your eyes, looking at one another before focusing their gazes on your figure which was sinking into the couch. A teasingly sinister smile crept up on Eddie’s face as he touched your thigh softly. “We could do what, sweetheart?” 

“Maybe we can head inside? It’s so cold now,” you giggled, shivers running through your body. 

Luckily for you, warmth ran through your body, shooting straight to your heart amongst the cool autumn breeze overtook your senses now. No other moment in your life has ever made you feel so exhilarated like this. Just as Eddie placed a chaste kiss on your lips, whilst Steve teased his mouth over your neck — a million thoughts ran through your brain. Then, when you felt a hand reach under the blanket and touch the soft skin of your thighs, one thought became louder than the rest: 

Maybe, just maybe, moving into a new apartment during the month of October was a good idea after all.

-:-:-:-:-

#my writing #writing #st fanfic #st fanfiction #fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #LazyGhoulsKinktober2023 #fluff #fluff and smut #steve harrington x f!reader #afab reader #just the tip #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #my fic #writing prompt #steve harrington #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie lives

[redahlia-writes]

cherry bomb. | steve harrington

Abstract: “I’ve been spending too much time with Robin, probably. I get nervous and I just start talking, and I don’t really think about what I’m saying beforehand.”

You chuckled, shifting closer yet, and brought your other hand to his face as well, cupping his cheeks to make him turn his head slightly in your direction - his eyes moved over your face, from one side to the other, lips and then eyes.

“Do I make you nervous, Harrington?” you asked amused, a grin on your lips as your voice lowered. His breath caught in his throat, the tip of his tongue darting between his lips - you looked down at his mouth then, head slightly tilted, and he was suddenly aware of how close the two of you actually were.

“No,” he breathed out - then, because your smirk grew, he sighed. “A little,” he admitted, voice softer, hand inching up towards your knee.

Words: 8.9K (this wasn’t supposed to be this long, apologies)

Warnings: (f!reader, r has tattoos); minors dni. swearing, mentions of alcohol, usage of light drugs, teasing, flirting, pet names, smut, the smallest hint of praise kink, the smallest hint of sub steve too (blink and you’ll miss it), fingering, dry humping, hickeys, like a lot of hickeys and other lovebites, protected sex (wrap it up people), some fluff unedited

Author’s note: based mostly on the song cherry bomb by the runaways, but also some other bits of the album - if i missed some warnings please do tell me

also on AO3 - masterlist

It was easy to stand out in a town like Hawkins - the smallest hint of being different would immediately bring people to look at the person with sneers of diffidence and a scoff on their lips.

That was particularly true in your case: the girl who’d turned her back on her family, who’d left school just as she was about to finish it, who lived at the edge of the woods in a place that seemed to be held together by duct tape and hope.

The Cherry Bomb of Hawkins, a nickname born when you were still in highschool that had stuck so profoundly some people didn’t even know your actual name anymore - it was just Cherry.

That’s how Steve Harrington knew you - the name that popped in his head when you walked in front of the café he and Robin ended up working at after Family Video sacked them.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Robin commented as she wiped the counter, and the bell at the door chimed as you walked in, lowering your shades a little on your nose.

“I thought she’d left Hawkins,” he murmured, lowering his voice as you reached the counter, glancing up at the scribbled board. “Wasn’t that the whole reason she quit school?” “Dude, quiet,” Robin admonished, then moved at the counter. “Hi, what can I get you?”

“Robin, you work here?” there was a tiredness in your voice, and when you took your sunglasses off, dark circles surrounded your eyes. “What happened to Family Video?” “Ah, we got fired,” she shrugged, leaning in a little bit. Your eyes flickered towards Steve, and he felt his grip on the rag he was holding slip a little bit as you met his gaze with a quick grin. “Long story.”

“You come as a package now?” you asked with a chuckle, and Robin shrugged lightly, giving it no importance. “I need the strongest coffee you can make - and the cheapest,” you said then, leaning with your forearms against the counter.

“Long night?” Robin asked, glancing in Steve’s direction pitifully - he was in charge of making the coffees after that time Robin accidentally burned herself and still carried the scar on the palm of her hand.

“Long shift,” you groaned, following him with your eyes. “I should’ve done like you - a café during the day sounds much nicer than that shitty pub at night,” you said then, tipping your head slightly back.

“You’re still working there?” Steve looked over his shoulder at Robin, the familiarity in her words, the surprise. He was aware they hadn’t been friends for long, but since when was Robin Buckley friends with you? “Hadn’t you applied for other jobs?” she continued, a little worriedly.

“After the mall fiasco everyone started looking for another job,” you shrugged, lifting your gaze towards Steve - he quickly brought his attention back to your coffee, missing the light, amused frown that crossed your face.  “Should a spot open here, I’ll let you know,” Robin reassured, a smile in her words.

Steve didn’t see the grateful nod you gave Robin, a tired smile still on your lips, finishing up your coffee - he stepped behind Robin to place it on the counter in front of you, moving the sugar closer before stepping out of the way.

“Thanks,” you pulled the cup towards you with your eyebrows slightly arched, and he nodded only in reply. “Hey, Harrington, cat got your tongue?”

He froze - Steve froze, turning his head to look at you with his eyes widening a little, as if surprised you were even addressing him in the first place. He couldn’t remember one single instance the two of you had spoken, too different in status when in high-school - he just remembered the voices that circulated about you, things he’d heard without caring about it.

“I - no. Sorry, no,” he cleared his throat, and watched you stifle a laugh, eyes glimmering in amusement as he frowned. “You work at a pub, huh? Which one?”

At his side, Robin snorted, moving from the counter as she shook her head - Steve wanted to grab her by the collar of her shirt and keep her there, just so he didn’t have to be alone in that situation. But his hands remained glued to his sides, fidgeting slightly with the rag hanging from his pocket.

“There’s only one pub in Hawkins, you can’t miss it - The Hideout,” you said with a quick smirk, picking up the coffee. “And it stays open only because we’re paid a misery - so if you’re thinking of moving business, always keep a job on the side,” you warned, pointing a finger in his direction.

You were not what he expected - which, really, shouldn’t have surprised him, not with the way the town treated those who didn’t fit in. He glanced in Robin’s direction quickly.

“You got one?” he cleared his throat again, suddenly dry, and you nodded. “What is it?” “You’re a big boy, Harrington,” you hummed from over the rim of the cup, “you can figure it out by yourself, can’t you?”

He was grateful for Robin calling your name - your actual name - or else the next, surely embarrassing, words would’ve sputtered out of him, out of his control, his neck warming up at the slight drawl in your voice and tilt of your head, eyes never leaving him.

“Coffee’s on the house,” Robin called, a glance in Steve’s direction almost as a warning. “But don’t tell anyone or else we’ll surely get fired.”

“Like I have anybody to tell it to,” you grinned, lifting the cup back up to your lips to finish the drink - a dark red halo stained the rim when you placed it back down, tip of the tongue darting out to catch the droplets on your top lip. “Thanks, Robs - Harrington. See you.”

He managed to put his hand up and wave only when the door had already closed behind you, bell chiming in its wake. At the other end of the counter, Robin burst out laughing, one hand on her chest as she leaned back.

“You should see your face - oh, I’d pay to get a picture of it right now,” she exclaimed, clearly enjoying Steve’s lost expression. “She’s gonna crush your heart, Steve,” Robin warned, laughter still clinging to her voice. Then, she held her hand up. “No, not just crush it. She'll rip it out of your chest, throw it on the ground, stomp on it, then get in her car and run it over. Twice.”

“Jesus, Robin,” he found his voice again with a scoff, picking up the cup left behind. “It’s not like that - I was just surprised, is all.” “Yeah, sure,” Robin snorted.

“I didn’t know you had other friends,” he mocked, but Robin’s mood was too good to be impacted by his remark. “Especially not her. When did you two even  become  friends?” “Around the time you were King of Hawkins,” she announced after a moment of pondering. “Just - forget about it. I’m saying this for your sake.”

Steve didn’t think it was like that. He genuinely thought he’d just been surprised - but had you always looked like that? Had your voice always been so soft, so alluring? Had your laugh always been this contagious?

––––––––––

“This place always looks like a shithole,” Eddie mumbled, eyebrows arched as he looked around the pub. “Why are we here again, Harrington?”

“Steve’s got a crush,” Robin chimed in before he could reply, and grinned in response to his glare. At that, Eddie perched up on his seat, suddenly more interested. “Yeah, yeah - it’s not like that,” she mocked, and shot a knowing glance in Eddie’s direction. “She comes to the café almost every morning - he’s been pining for like a month.”

“Well, you only had to say that,” he clapped his hands lightly, then rubbed them together as he leaned forward, eyes scanning the crowd more attentively. “Who do we need to woo?”

“No one,” Steve warned, pointing a finger first in Robin’s direction, then Eddie’s. “No. We’re here just to see what the place’s like.” “It’s shit, Harrington,” Eddie pointed out, tilting his head a little. “I play with the band here - I could’ve easily told you that.”

“Wait, you do?” Steve frowned, and Eddie scoffed at him, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Yes - and, frankly, I’m a little offended you’d come here for a girl but not to see me play,” he tipped his chin up with a little hmph noise which lasted just a few seconds before his mouth split in a grin, his arms opening as he leaned back in his chair.

Steve barely had the time to turn before you reached the table, almost throwing yourself on Eddie, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he pulled you onto him with a loud cackle, rubbing your back quickly.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t come here unless it was to play, Munson,” your voice was a little hoarse, a little louder than when at the café, and you pulled back from the curve of Eddie’s neck to look at him, hands reaching up to cup his face. “You’re a liar.”

“I’ve been brought here against my will, Cherry,” he said, a little bit theatrical.

Only then did you turn around on his lap, taking in both Steve and Robin - your eyebrows arched upwards, lips parting in surprise. A little smile made its way over your face, and letting go of Eddie’s face you leaned with your elbows on the table.

“This is a nice surprise,” you hummed, looking at Robin first, then letting your gaze linger on Steve, head slightly tilted. “Didn’t expect this to be your scene, Harrington.”

Steve’s gaze fell to Eddie’s arm wrapped around your waist, clearing his throat a little before flicking it back towards your face - at the look on his face, Eddie did his best to not burst out laughing, meeting Robin’s told-you-so gaze from across the table.

“Yeah, I figured -” he shrugged, muttering something that went lost in the cacophony of the place. You chuckled, hand coming down to rest on the table, mere inches from his as you leaned further forward.

“And here I thought I’d done a good job in saying how much of a dump this place is,” you sighed, then pulled quickly back - much to Steve’s dismay. You tapped Eddie’s arm still wrapped around you, and he let go of you immediately. How often had that happened, Steve wondered, then shook the thought away. “Gotta get back to work, if you need anything just yell,” you announced and got up - then turned around and planted a kiss on Eddie’s cheek, leaving a smudged lipstick stain on his skin before strolling away.

Eddie leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as he looked at Steve’s expression carefully, doing his best to hold back a laugh. Robin too was looking at him, his gaze trained after you.

“So, you know her too, huh?” Steve hummed, and forced his eyes back towards Eddie - only to find him staring at him already, grinning like a madman. “What?” he wondered, taken aback - only then did Eddie start laughing, long and loud, head thrown back as he struggled to breathe properly.

“Oh, you’re so screwed,” he hiccupped, breath short. “She’s going to eat you alive, you do know that, right?”

“You’re both so dramatic,” Steve huffed, rolling his eyes. “And it’s not like that,” he added quickly. Robin and Eddie looked at each other again, a knowing look in their eyes. “You seem friendly enough, anyway. Both of you, actually.”

“Yes, friendly,” Robin pointed out, her hand landing on Steve’s arm. “She’s a great friend, but you’re too much of a hopeless romantic,” she said it gently, but Steve scoffed again, glancing towards the counter where you were placing drinks in front of a group of clearly already drunk men.

“Robin, I swear -” he sighed, head thrown back in exasperation. “What about you - that was particularly friendly,” he said then, gesturing towards Eddie, who’d just regained his breath.

“Why do you think I’m telling you this?” he said it with a glint in his eyes. “She helped us with our first gig here - had the biggest crush on her,” he admitted, a little bashful. “She ended up stealing half of my clients because, honestly, I would rather buy from her than me, too. We stayed friends, though - help each other out,” he glanced around the pub with a slight grimace. “You need to, in a place like this.”

––––––––––

Always keep a job on the side.

It shouldn’t have surprised Steve - when you gained a certain reputation in Hawkins, you either did everything in your power to destroy it (like he’d done) or you embraced it fully (like it seemed you’d done).

Your house - if it could be called a house the four walls, one door and patchy garden in front of it  - was the only thing in sight for miles, behind only forest, before only road. It was similar to Hopper’s cabin, where he’d hidden Eleven for a year.

Had you been trying to hide yourself away?

His knocking was hesitant, and half-way through the second hit he almost considered turning back around and walking away, but by the time he’d brought his hand back the door was already opening, you on the other side wearing pajamas bottoms and a cropped tank top, a baton in hand and your head tilted.

“Harrington,” despite the usual, slightly teasing note that his name held, you sounded surprised, glancing past his shoulder and back at him. “This is unexpected. You lost?” “No, I came to see you,” he admitted, and a quick grin made its way across your face as he lifted the six-pack of beer he had in his hand. “I come bearing gifts,” he added, a little smile on his lips.

“You could’ve started with that,” you said, moving aside and placing the baton down. Steve stepped in, and you lifted your leg in front of him. “Shoes off,” you ordered, taking the beers from his hand. Observing him with your head slightly tilted as he followed your instructions, you let the door close behind him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Uh, I was wondering if you could help me,” he responded, straightening up and glancing at the baton. “Do you have to use that often?” he couldn’t help but wonder, the edges slightly dented.

“Every now and then,” you shrugged, walking towards the kitchen area - it was small, barely a corner, an empty plate sitting in the sink - and placing the beer in the fridge. “Most people just don’t want to fuck with me - they think I might sacrifice them to some forest deity,” you added with an amused glint in your eye.

Steve was starting to see why you got along with Eddie.

“You live here alone?” he asked with a little frown, taking in the place - it was chaotic, but not messy, with mismatched furniture, a radio playing low music resting by the window, and entirely you. He couldn’t explain why, but there was a little bit of you in every corner of the living room.

“Why, planning on murdering me, Harrington?” you flashed him a grin, stepping towards the corridor that led to a half-closed door. He followed you with his gaze, but remained by the couch, taking in the space furthermore. “Oh, no - I wouldn’t want any forest deity moving against me,” he called a little louder, and heard your laughter followed by a little clattering.

“Does Eddie know you’re buying from his competition?” you called back, and before he could answer you returned to the living room, a shoebox in your hands. “Actually, yes,” he cleared his throat, watching as you settled on the couch, box on your crossed legs. “I’ll have some apologizing to do.”

You looked up at him, eyebrows arched, and Steve froze for a moment.

“Come sit,” you said then, turning towards the free end of the couch. He made his way towards it carefully, sitting by the edge of the cushion and, unable to help yourself, you snorted. “I won’t bite,” you reassured, voice lowered as you leaned towards him. “You’re different from what I expected, Harrington.”

“Thank you?” he frowned a little, unsure, and you grinned again, placing the box in front of him and opening it for him. Buds and pre-rolled joints looked up at him, and he tilted his head a little, taking one up. “Split?” he offered, and you scoffed.

“Trying the product before actually committing to the purchase?” you took the joint from him and shifted forward to grab a lighter from the coffee table in front of you. “No, not really,” he followed your movements, taking a slow breath in. “I just don’t want to go already,” he admitted then, voice lower. You paused, joint held between your lips, and then one corner of your mouth lifted up slightly, a half smirk as you flicked the lighter.

You inhaled, eyes never leaving Steve as your cheeks hollowed slightly, and then moved the box on the table right as you exhaled, leaning in his direction, the smoke curling around your extended arm and hand.

“You only had to say that, Harrington.”

He took the joint from you, fingers brushing for a split second, then watches6 as you sat back, legs kicked up on the couch and legs bent. The cropped top left the tattoo across your ribs exposed, and his eyes lingered there for a moment.

“What did you expect?” he asked, looking up to meet your gaze already on him - it made him feel under some sort of scrutiny, and he shifted a little, attempting to relax back on the couch. “You said I’m different from what you expected - what did you expect?”

“Come on,” you scoffed, legs crossed at the ankle and a slight roll of your eyes. “Steve Harrington, the King of Hawkins,” you said then, an exaggerated, theatrical note in your voice, eyes widening a little in emphasis. “I remember high-school - you could be a real asshole.”

Steve brought the joint to his lips with a half-hazarded scoff, eyes wandering away. He should’ve been used to the bluntness, with Robin, Dustin and Eddie constantly calling him out - yet it somehow sounded different when coming from you.

In the time he’d gotten to know you - the mornings at the café, with your tired eyes and smudged make-up, or the couple of times he’d managed to convince Robin and Eddie to go back to the pub - he’d noticed you never held back. Whether it was with them or a particularly annoying customer at the pub, you had no problem saying things as they were.

And, truthfully, he had been an asshole during high-school.

“I did hear some rumors you had changed,” you continued as he exhaled, tilting your head just slightly. “I just find it hard to listen to and believe in those - had to see it with my own eyes.” “Why’s that?” he asked with a little frown, leaning forward when you gestured at him to hand the joint back, again with the fingers brushing, the delicate jolt running up his arm. You snorted, tipping your head back a little.

“This town certainly has a reputation of not blowing things out of proportion and saying things as they are,” you inhaled, deep and slow, your eyes on him. The cloud of smoke curled up towards the ceiling when you exhaled and returned the joint back to him. “I mean, I’m definitely in a cult, you know? Same as Eddie. We meet on Sundays to sacrifice people at the altar right behind my house,” you announced, a cheeky grin on your face as you rested back.

Steve scoffed lightly, shaking his head.

“Okay, yeah, that’s not - you’re right,” he noticed a faint ring of lipstick around the filter of the joint as he brought it up to his own lips, and his eyes flicked up to your face, to the smudged stain at the corner of your mouth. “How much of the stuff they say is true?” he wondered then, and simultaneously wondered whether it was too much he was asking or not.

You shrugged, hands interlocked over your stomach as he took a drag.

“I decided to leave my parents’ house, and I did try to move out of Hawkins - that’s how I found this place. Oh, and no, I’m not a virgin,” the words made him cough, smoke burning his nostrils and throat as he turned the other way, only hearing your chuckle. “So easy,” you murmured, stretching across the cushion and towards him as you continued listing. “I’m not planning on dying alone, just waiting to not have someone get with me as a challenge. And I did want to finish school - my parents just decided otherwise for me after I left.”

“Oh,” he frowned again, his voice scratchy, trying to make sense of your words. She’s gonna crush your heart. She’s going to eat you alive. “Why stay in Hawkins, then? You clearly hate the place,” he tried then, and you chuckled again - he tilted his head a little, watching you. “Even now, couldn’t you just go?”

“With pub and drugs money? No,” you shook your head, extending your legs across his lap. “I wouldn’t make it very far - I’m not even sure I’d have enough gas to get out of town,” you added, lifting yourself up enough to take the joint back from his hand.

He wasn’t sure whether it was the weed or your being so relaxed at his side, but he felt himself melt back a little, his hand coming to rest on your calf, a sense of ease settling in his bones. His tongue felt looser, too, the knot in his throat he got whenever you were around vanishing altogether. 

“Isn’t there anyone you could ask to help? I’m sure -” he paused, watching as you arched an eyebrow through your exhale.

“If I had anyone willing to help, d’you really believe I’d have stayed here?” you pulled yourself up then, sitting with your legs draped over his to hand him the last bit of the joint. His gaze softened, hand lingering for a moment over yours even as the filter started to burn against his skin and you rolled your eyes just a little, leaning to rest your elbows across your thighs, back of one hand resting against his chest and the other supporting your head up. “Don’t worry, Harrington, I don’t need pity. I’d do it again, even if it means remaining stuck here.”

“Still,” he hesitated. Still, couldn’t you have done so much more? Instead, you shook your head.

“Trust me, had you had parents like mine, you would’ve rather lived in a shack - even worse than this one - too,” you reassured, brushing your knuckles across his chest before reaching to get the ashtray for him to stump out the butt.

“Well, I barely know my parents,” he admitted absent-mindedly, gaze turned down to where his hand rested across your leg. “They’re never really home, and if they are it still feels as if they’re not actually there - like they don’t see me, or simply don’t care, or -” he looked up all of a sudden, cutting himself off. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I shouldn’t be complaining - my life’s been so fucking easy so far, it’s ridiculous, I really shouldn’t say -”

“Steve,” the sound of his name on your lips made him snap back to reality all of a sudden, your hand moving from his chest to his neck, then up furthermore to cup his jaw. Your skin was soft and cold, and his eyelids drooped slightly at your touch, hazy gaze turning to your smile. “Relax - it’s not like being wealthy precludes you from having shitty parents.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he scoffed, somewhat amused. “I’ve been spending too much time with Robin, probably. I get nervous and I just start talking, and I don’t really think about what I’m saying beforehand.”

You chuckled, shifting closer yet, and brought your other hand to his face as well, cupping his cheeks to make him turn his head slightly in your direction - his eyes moved over your face, from one side to the other, lips and then eyes.

“Do I make you nervous, Harrington?” you asked amused, a grin on your lips as your voice lowered. His breath caught in his throat, the tip of his tongue darting between his lips - you looked down at his mouth then, head slightly tilted, and he was suddenly aware of how close the two of you actually were.

“No,” he breathed out - then, because your smirk grew, he sighed. “A little,” he admitted, voice softer, hand inching up towards your knee.

He’d seen you with Eddie - his arms around you, your hands holding his face, the way he’d play with your hair and you with his rings. He’d seen you with Robin, too - tucking her hair behind her ear, having her sit on your lap, murmuring things in her ear that left her flustered and she refused to repeat. He knew it meant nothing: the touches, the teasing, the looks.

But it was just the two of you, in your house, so close, and he was high on weed and your sharp perfume, and he was sure you could feel his heart doing laps in his chest.

“Maybe I should go,” he murmured, but made no attempt to move from his position. “I’m not letting you drive back right now,” you shook your head, thumbs running across his cheeks as you brought him closer. “You’re high - your pupils are huge.”

“They always get like that when I see you though,” his whispered response as he lowered his forehead towards yours earned a quiet chuckle from you, hands falling to his shoulders. “I have a confession - I didn’t actually come here for the weed.”

“No?” he could hear the amused note in your voice, but didn’t really care, your fingers brushing his neck just above the collar of his shirt as he shook his head.

“I just wanted to see you - without Robin, or Eddie, or anyone at The Hideout, or you just coming back from work,” your hands reached the back of his head, one hand cupping the nape of his neck, the other brushing his hair down a bit as you hummed in response.

And then you were kissing him, pulling him towards you as your lips bruised his and his hand gripped your leg both in surprise and to ground himself. You were there, solid - so soft - under his hand, over him, on him.

When he sighed, lips parting, your tongue brushed into his mouth, and you moved to sit on his lap - never once breaking the kiss but only deepening it, forcing his head back against the backrest of the couch as you shifted a little higher than him. Steve could taste the smoke on your lips and, ironically enough, cherries.

His hands moved from your legs as you straddled his lap, slowly caressing up your hips and waist, gripping a little tighter when you had to break the kiss to breathe, slowly shifting back on his thighs. He then felt your lips drag across his jaw sloppily, down and down towards his neck as he craned his head back a little.

“This wasn’t my intention, by the way,” he breathed out, voice hoarse, forcing back a quiet groan as you kissed his pulse point. “I really just wanted to see you, and be with you, but this -”

“I know, Steve,” you hummed, a little smile in your words. “Relax, it’s okay,” you added, lips brushing the shell of his ear before you tilted your head, resuming the trail of kisses across Steve’s neck. One of his hands left your side, moving to the small of your back as if to push you against him furthermore just as a hiss left his mouth.

“You said you wouldn’t bite,” he gasped, and craned his neck as your teeth sank gently into his skin, offering you more. With a low chuckle, you ran the flat of your tongue across the offended spot, making Steve shift underneath you, eyes fluttering shut.

“I lied,” you admitted, making your way further down, nibbling at his throat as he threw his head back, sighing softly while he caressed your back, reaching underneath your shirt, his warm hand splaying over your spine. He pushed you closer, your hips rocking against him.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, breathless, his fingers stroking your skin tentatively. Slowly, you pulled your head up, angling yourself so you were looking down at him, a little smile on your swollen lips.

“You’re already touching me,” you whispered, and he took his other hand off of your side to reach your face. He cupped your cheek, thumb brushing at the corner of your mouth as if to clean it of the smeared lipstick. There was a tenderness in his touch, such strong contrast with the heaving of his chest, his pupils wide, his lips bruised. “Yes, Steve, you can,” you reassured then, unable to keep yourself from smiling.

He lifted his head then, kissing you right back as both his hands returned to your waist, open-mouthed and needy. He traced the edge of the tattoo across your ribs, delicate and slow, touch shifting until he was cupping your breasts, his warm palms over your naked skin eliciting a gasp out of you.

You shifted above him again, grinding down on him as you slowly rolled your hips to second the movements of his hands, soft sighs falling from your lips. He bucked up his hips, a moan escaping you against his mouth in response.

“Okay?” he let his lips trail along your jaw, word barely slurred out as you nodded, then threw your head back and bit down on your bottom lip, back arching towards his touch as his thumbs swept over your nipples, gaining another moan out of you. “Can I take this off?”

His voice had dropped as he pushed your top up a little, looking up at you almost expectantly and, lip still trapped between your teeth, you nodded again, moving your hands from his shoulders to aid him. Steve moved slowly, his eyes never leaving you, taking in every further inch of exposed skin until you were standing bare-chested in front of him, and his hands were on your sides again.

“Look at you,” a mere whisper uttered as he brushed his lips across your collarbones, up to your throat, nudging your chin up. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he continued, voice muffled against your skin.

You froze for a moment - an instant of tension after you’d buried your hands in his hair, breath catching in your throat at his words. So soft. So genuine. The situation dawned on you so suddenly - Steve’s lips on you, his body underneath you, his touch still delicate. It wasn’t his challenge, being there with you. It was all real.

He felt the moment you stilled, no other noise coming from you but heavy breaths, and he pulled back right away, looking up just as a hesitant smile bent your lips - just barely visible.

“What is it?” he asked quietly, a little worried. “Nothing,” you shook your head and cleared your throat, bringing your gaze down on him as you brushed his hair back - only messing it further. He frowned lightly, and you leaned in. “It’s nothing, Steve, really.”

“We can stop,” he spoke softly, hands remaining still at your sides. “If you changed your mind - I don’t care. We can stop. I can go.”

“No,” you shook your head, cupping his cheeks as you softened against him, the tension leaving you as you looked into his eyes. He meant it. All of it. “No one’s called me beautiful in a while - it’s stupid.”

At that, he frowned, eyes moving across your face, down your neck and chest, your arms and back up to your face. “I don’t believe that,” he muttered, shaking his head as much as your hands allowed. You shrugged, rubbing small circles at the corner of his mouth.

“Hot, desirable, foxy even,” you listed, gaze lingering on his parting lips. “Just that.”

“Well, I say you are beautiful,” he said, tipping his chin up a little. He took your hand from his face, turning his head to rest a delicate kiss on your palm. “Beautiful,” he repeated, voice hoarse, then kissed your wrist. “Lovely,” your forearm. “Cute,” the crook of your elbow. “Pretty,” a breath against your shoulder before beckoning you closer. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,” each time a kiss across the skin of your neck, and you couldn’t help the quiet snort escaping your lips.

It pulled a smile on his mouth as well before he brought his hand behind your head, cupping the nape of your neck and closing the gap between you, the kiss a little slower, a little softer, his other arm wrapping around your middle to hold you against him.

You felt him shift, keeping you firmly as he switched your positions, laying you down across the couch and settling with one leg between your thighs, free hand braced at your side to not weigh down on you. Still kissing you, he traced your side with the tip of his fingers, almost ticklish as you arched against him, tugging at his shirt until his back was uncovered.

He pulled back long enough to take it off and, in straightening his back, his thigh pressed between your legs, causing a whine to fall from your lips as you hooked your fingers in the belt of his jeans.

“Do that again,” you gasped, rolling your hips just slightly as you attempted to pull him closer. Steve’s hands fell to your hips, gripping them and helping you grind against him, the flimsy material of your pants wrinkling at the friction as you moaned again, lips parting, head thrown back with a string of curses stuck in your throat.

Steve watched you, the flush across your chest, your hands fumbling to undo his belt blindly, the pressure against your core making your stomach flutter. Beautiful didn’t even begin to describe it, the curve of your body as you sought more friction against the rough material of his jeans, your eyelids trembling as you turned your head and looked at him through lowered lashes.

Once his belt came undone, and you popped the button of his pants, he lowered himself against you, still holding your hips in place. Your hands roamed his torso, sides, shoulders as he kissed you again, and kissed you and kissed you, desperately trying to capture every single little noise that escaped your open mouth.

He shifted his leg back, a sound of protest muffled against his mouth, quickly replaced by a shuddering breath as one of his hands left your side, moving past the waistband of your pants and underwear, his fingers just barely brushing your skin.

“Can I?” he drawled over your skin, down and down your jaw, neck, chest, the tip of his tongue tracing the tattoo across your sternum before moving up again, his gaze searching yours as the heel of his hand gently pressed onto your lower belly. “Please,” he added, hot breath fanning over your parted lips.

Plush lips, dilated pupils, short breath, Steve looked down at you expectantly, waiting, the warmth of his hand on you luring you closer - you nodded then, bottom lip trapped between your teeth as you arched against his touch, shifting your hips until his fingers brushed the apex of your core.

Agonizingly slow, he dragged his fingers across your already wet folds, slick gathering over his digits. He was kissing your neck then, lips latched onto your pulse point as he moved the tip of his finger back up - you twitched underneath him when he nudged your clit, a whine escaping your lips when he did it again, drawing a small circle over it.

He was attentive to your every response - when he pushed your thighs a little more open with his legs and you arched furthermore against him, chest puffing up and hands finding his arms to hold onto him; when he switched from side to side to small circles over your clit and you spasmed lightly underneath him, panting and keening into his ear; and when he pushed one finger inside of you, and then a second one, and you clenched around him, grinding down against his hand.

“Steve,” was the only coherent thing that came out of your lips along a string of muttered curses, yes, yes, yes and fuck, Steve, God, his fingers pumping in and out of you, thumb rolling against your clit.

He pulled himself up, a low pop muffled next to your ear where a bruise was already forming in the shape of Steve’s lips, and he sat back on his heels, his hair falling ruffled against his forehead as he trained his gaze down on you again.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his breath labored, curling his fingers inside of you. “So beautiful,” he repeated, watching you throw your head back with a gasp, your neck exposed to him, as if showing off the marks he’d left on your skin.

He moved his other hand from your hip where he held you down to your lower stomach, pushing down as he repeated the motion of his fingers inside of you, pressing against your front wall and making you cry out. The pressure was almost overwhelming, your hand gripping his wrist tighter, grinding down against his hand as his name left your lips over and over again, a chant growing, breathless and whiny.

“I’m gonna -” sentence cut off by a gasp, your thighs started trembling against his in a reflexive attempt to close your legs. “So good, feels so good, Steve,” Steve, Steve, repeated through moans before the air left your lungs fully, and you came gushing over his hand, a long, sharp cry as you shook underneath him, clenching around his fingers.

Steve coaxed your orgasm out of you until it became unbearable and you pushed him away by his wrist with a whispered please, eyes fluttering shut and chest heaving.

Slowly, he dragged his fingers up your abdomen, stomach, between the valley of your breasts, your release still coating his fingers - he kissed your skin clean in its wake, the taste of you on his mouth when he kissed you again, gentle. Wearily you chased him, arm wrapped around his shoulders to push him down, hand buried through his hair as you deepened the kiss, licking every last drop of you from his lips. 

“You okay?” he murmured through quick pecks along your cheek, your arms still heavy around him, legs limp at his sides.

“Need a moment,” you retorted, turning your head to try and kiss him again, blindly, sloppily. “You’re so fucking good, Harrington,” he chuckled at your muffled words. “Think I might’ve fallen for you a little there.”

“Alright, don’t mock me now,” he said it light-heartedly, through more tiny kisses, pulling back to look at you each time.

“I’m not,” he scoffed, his hand coming up to brush the hair away from sticking on your forehead. Without his arm supporting him, you flipped the two of you over, straddling his lap with still shaking thighs. “I am not,” you repeated a little firmer, pinning his hands at each side of his head. “You’re good to me, Steve,” you said then, lowering your voice as if anyone could be around to listen while you kissed his lips, once. “Always so good to me,” his jaw -

Steve let his eyes flutter shut, shifting a little underneath you, pants straining as his erection pressed against your lower abdomen, the mere contact making him groan and bite down on his cheeks, a choked out baby leaving his mouth in spite of the layer of clothing between the two of you.

“Giving me free coffee when I need it,” you continued, a little smile in your words as you kissed his neck. “Coming to the pub,” the hollow of his throat as his breath picked up. “Staying up late just to see me to my car,” his collarbones. “Always making sure I’m okay,” his heaving chest before looking up, waiting until he returned his gaze on you to continue in a gentle voice, head tilted. “I do like you,” you admitted quietly, watching as Steve’s neck flushed slightly and he wet his lips, his brows knitting a little. You rested your chin on his chest, gently scratching up and down his forearms. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“No,” he shook his head, then sighed. “Maybe a little - it’s Robin being paranoid, and Eddie being an ass, and you -” he shook his head again, eyes closing.

“I - what?” you frowned slightly, letting go of one of his hands to tap his cheek gently with the tip of your finger - when he looked back at you, you cupped his cheek, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth where a red halo, a stain of whatever had remained of your lipstick, tinged his skin.

“I didn’t think you’d ever take me seriously,” he admitted then - blurted out, really - and your eyebrows arched in surprise. “I came here tonight just because I wanted to be with you, even just for a few minutes - I never expected any of this. Not with you.”

“Not with me?” you chuckled, pushing yourself up a little to move your face right in front of his, tips of your nose brushing his. The shift against his crotch had him groan lightly, jaw twitching at the friction. “You never even spared me a second glance in high-school, what’s that supposed to mean?” despite your words, your hand still cradled his cheek, reassuring.

“That’s not true,” he moved his head, nudging the tip of your nose. “I did look at you. I saw you.”

“Ever thought of trying your luck with me before?” you grinned, the teasing note in your voice making him glance away for a moment.

“God, no,” he sighed, moving his hand slowly until it reached your waist just as you straddled his lap again, rocking slowly against him. “Thought you’d bite my head off.”

“I told you, I don’t bite,” you murmured, tilting your head to brush your lips on his. He kissed you once, twice, hand resting on the small of your back.

“I think I have a mark that says otherwise,” he scoffed in between kisses, pushing you a little closer as you chuckled against his mouth. You let go of his other hand too, which immediately fell to the back of your head as you reached between your bodies, at last undoing the zipper of his jeans before tugging them down - he lifted his hips to help, while simultaneously, moving the hand from your back to the hem of your own pants. “Do you have a -”

“Reach behind you,” hastily, you pulled back and hovered his legs as you helped him out fully, belt jingling as you let the jeans fall to the ground. Eyebrows arched, Steve did as he was told, tilting his head back until he located a small box on the side table and you nodded, kicking off your pants.

“Seriously?” he laughed, watching you smirk and straddle his lap, the ghost of his previous touch still on your thighs. He grabbed a silvery packet and held it up between the two of you, placing the box back down. “In the living room?” he teased, pushing himself up on his elbows.

“I don’t just let anybody in my bedroom, Harrington,” you shrugged, and removed your underwear as well. Steve let his gaze wander across your body - the tattoos, the forming bruises on your hips, the marks he’d left with his mouth. He bucked his hips up involuntarily, forcing his eyes back towards your face as you leaned in and took the condom from his hand. “A girl’s gotta be prepared,” you said then, voice a mere, raspy whisper.

After you removed the last piece of clothing between the two of you, Steve fell back against the couch as you wrapped your hand around his erection, a hiss escaping his lips when you brushed your thumb over the tip, smearing his precum around it and then down his length.

“Jesus - fuck,” he cussed, fucking his hips up into your hand. Seeing and feeling you fall apart on his hand had been enough to almost send him over the edge, leaving him sensitive - one touch and his vision was hazy already.

Baby, sweetheart, baby, falling from his lips at the sound of the wrapping tearing. He moaned when you rolled the condom down his cock, one hand raking through his hair and the other gripping the couch underneath him to keep himself from writhing under your touch.

He was so far gone already.

Steve managed to look up only when he felt your hand wrapped around his base and you shifted up his body again, blurry vision clearing enough to notice the flush of your cheeks and heaving chest, your stomach fluttering as you looked down on him, too, then met his eye - lips parted, panting and sighing as he grabbed your hips, his warm hands already so familiar on your body.

You held his gaze as you slowly, achingly slow, sunk down on him, free hand falling to his chest to hold yourself up, thighs burning as the ache of him stretching you turned into a blinding pleasure.

“Easy,” you warned breathlessly as he pushed you down slightly, a choked back groan at your stillness leaving his lips. You steadied yourself with both hands on his chest now. “Oh my - fuck,” a mewl as you threw your head back, eyes fluttering shut as you bottomed out.

Steve kneaded your sides gently, then ran his hands down your thighs, muscles trembling slightly in the wake of his touch. He didn’t move just yet, heavy breathing underneath your hands as he watched your throat bob, stomach fluttering.

And then you started to move - a slow rocking of your hips, up and down his length. Steve set the pace, his hands guiding you by your hips, soft praises falling from his mouth. Feel so good, so good, keep going, just like that, twitching inside of you each time you let out a moan.

When he shifted, sitting up, you found yourself stilling, both arms wrapped around his shoulders as you clenched around him, gaining another groan from him as he squeezed your hips.

“Alright, baby?” his voice was low, lips trailing lazily across your shoulder, up towards your neck, one of his arms sliding around your waist to keep you down against him while his other hand came to rest behind him.

Burying one hand in his hair you nodded, cheek against cheek as he nibbled the juncture between your ear and jaw, a hum barely passing through your sealed lips that quickly turned into a gasp as he pushed his hips up into you.

Steve moved his head back then, looking up at you as you held onto his shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh as he guided your movements above him, steady, rocking hips that made his eyelids grow heavy - yet he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“So pretty,” he whispered through his shortening breaths and moans, reaching up to tuck a wild strand of hair behind your ear, then cup your cheek - he fucked up into you again, the slap of skin against skin echoing through the room, the house, your head as you forced yourself to keep your eyes open. “So fucking pretty.”

He felt you falter, hips twitching uncontrolled as your thighs shook at his sides, just as you blindly searched for his mouth, tugging onto his hair a little harsher until you managed to kiss him, deep and breathless, your lips bruising - and again and again.

“I’m gonna come, Steve,” whispered against his skin, voice cracking with a cry and Steve, Steve repeated over and over like a chant.

You pulled his hair, just once, to break away from him and gasp a oh God as you threw your head back, your whole body trembling around his - it tipped him over the edge, too, a groan he suppressed against the skin of your chest, twitching deep inside of you as he came and oh God the soft noises, the praises falling from his lips directly onto your skin were almost enough to make your head spin.

You stayed like that: him still deep inside of you, his head resting on your chest, your heart hammering under his ear as you brushed your hand through his hair and placed your cheek on top of his head, both his arms wrapped loosely around you as you tried to regain your breaths.

“I take back what I said before,” your mouth felt pasty, voice muffled as your cheek remained slightly squashed on top of Steve’s head. “I definitely fell for you a little bit, now.”

Steve laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest and across your skin - the slight shake of his body made you hiss, and he left a quick peck against the hollow of your throat before moving his hands to your sides.

Ever so slowly helped you off of him with a quiet apology. The movement made the both of you groan, and you toppled at his side with a long exhale, back pressed against the backrest of the couch. You vaguely registered him getting up, moving towards the kitchen, and coming back after what seemed to be the blink of an eye - or maybe you’d simply dozed off.

“You okay?” he sat down next to you again, the couch definitely too small for you to be staying side by side, a glass of water in his hand. A grin made its way over your lips tiredly, and you lifted your head as he brought it closer to your face.

“See? Always so good to me,” you murmured once he moved back, his thumb running over your lips to collect the droplets of water. “I’m fine, just tired,” you reassured as he put the glass down blindly, his eyes never leaving you even as he lied down. You shifted half on top of him, enough so there was space for the both of you, chin resting on his chest where you left a quick peck. “Are you?”

“Are you kidding?” he scoffed, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you closer, carefully locked against his side. “Never been better,” he kissed the top of your head, your forehead, fingers tracing lazy, mindless lines across the skin of your back.

You melted into him, his soothing touch, his now-so-familiar scent, the steadying rhythm of his heart. It slowly lulled you into a half-sleep state, Steve’s body relaxing as well.

“Steve?” you mumbled against his chest, and his hand stilled, head turning just barely as he hummed in response. “Don’t fall asleep on the couch, you’ll get a backache,” you warned, yet nestled closer to his side.

The couch was old - you’d experienced the pains a night on it brought one too many times.

“It’s okay, I’ll just be five minutes,” he reassured, resuming tracing patterns over your skin with the tip of his fingers. “Then I’ll be on my way, let you get some rest.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harrington,” you scoffed, at last looking up towards him. His eyes were closed, his lips parted - still plump, still rosy, so kissable with his hair falling messily against his forehead. “Stay the night - let’s go to bed.”

He opened his eyes - his long lashes trembling against his cheeks before he did so, a light frown knitting his brow before he turned to look down towards you. He licked his lips, letting his hand move up the nape of your neck, guiding your head back.

“I thought you said no one’s allowed in your room,” he said, only half-teasingly.

“I said not just anyone,” you corrected, shifting up until you could brush your lips against his - just a mere brush, not chasing him, not letting him chase you. “You’re not just anyone.”

“You’re just trying to charge me extra,” he whispered in mock offense, the corners of his mouth twitching as he fought off a smile. “First weed, then spending the night -” “The sex, too,” you pointed out with a grin of your own.

“Of course,” he nodded, gravely, and you chuckled, leaning in to kiss him once, gently, deep. Your hand came up to his face, cupping his jaw, thumb stroking his cheek before you pulled back and met his eyes.

“Stay,” you repeated, and then, lower, sweeter - “Please?”

“Just as long as you won’t sacrifice me to some forest deity,” he nodded, pulling you almost fully on top of him. And with a smile, you kissed him again. “No promises, Harrington.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harringotn x oc #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #redahlia #cherry bomb

[sunshinesteviee]

call it what you want - s.h.

summary: you find yourself on the edge of friendship and something more with steve at a halloween party. for @sparklingsin's spookinktober writing challenge with the prompt "quick, switch costumes with me!" wc: 8.1k wtf warnings: friends to lovers. alcohol consumption. smut!!! 18+!!! f!reader. a/n: this is the longest thing i've ever written and it killed me lol i hope y'all like it. feedback is much appreciated! love u sm. also huge shoutout to @sparklingsin and @familyvideostevie for reading this and helping me out and listening to me complain about this gd fic for weeks i love u so much thanks for putting up w me

Masterlist

Parties weren’t Steve’s thing. Not anymore, anyway. And Halloween parties in particular were definitely crossed off the list, especially after everything that had happened with Nancy a few years ago. He was over Nancy, they were even friends now, but something about the idea of going to another Halloween party stirred up a sick feeling in Steve’s stomach that he wanted to run from. Somehow, though, Robin had managed to convince him that it would be fun. 

Really, it hadn’t taken much convincing on Robin’s part — all she had to do was mention you, and Steve was in, though he’d never admit that to her. It was stupid, she thought, the way the two of you were constantly pining for each other, but refusing to do anything about it. She’d heard enough lovesick complaints from her best friends, and decided she’d take it into her own hands. And Halloween seemed like the perfect opportunity. She wasn’t quite sure how yet, but she was sure the night would end at the very least with confessions. She’d make sure of it. 

And so, Steve was two drinks deep in a crowded house, filled with more regret than beer. Robin had somehow disappeared after one drink, Eddie was nowhere in sight, and he still had yet to see you. Maybe you’d decided not to come. If so, the whole night would be a waste. He hadn’t missed parties one bit. The stuffy, crowded rooms filled with sweaty bodies pressed against each other as music pounded in his ears, pulsing lights making his head throb. 

It didn’t used to be so bad. He used to be the keg king, down shot after shot, maybe get lucky, and still wake up the next day more or less fine. Now, two drinks usually did him in, and he didn’t always like the feeling of being drunk. Of being out of control. To be fair, he’d taken quite a few beatings that had definitely fucked with his head since he’d last been to a proper party. But parties just weren’t enjoyable anymore. Especially when all of his friends had disappeared, and he didn’t know anyone surrounding him. 

Tipping the last of his drink into his mouth, Steve crushed the red plastic cup in his hand and tossed it into the trash can nearby that was already almost overflowing. A familiar laugh sounded behind him, a sweet sound above the loud bass, “Whoa there, champ. How many drinks have you had?!”

Steve already had a smile on his face as he turned around, and his jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of you. You hadn’t ditched. And better yet, you looked fucking gorgeous. He let out an adoring laugh, eyebrows furrowing together, forehead wrinkling as he asked, “Champ?”

“Your costume, silly,” you nodded towards his outfit as you reached out, placing your warm palm against his bicep. Without thinking, Steve leaned into your touch, stepping in closer to you, his hand grazing your hip slightly. 

Since it had been a last-minute decision, and since he wasn’t fond of Halloween anyways, Steve had decided to pull his baseball uniform from high school out of his closet. It fit a little tighter than it used to, but would work well enough for one night. The ugly green and orange baseball jersey was tucked into a pair of baseball pants, and he’d even tucked his wild hair underneath a Hawkins high baseball hat. Steve’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the soft pink obvious on his pale skin, even in the dim lighting of the house. “Oh, right. Yeah, I think I kinda… knocked it out of the park with this one.”

The snort that left your mouth had Steve smiling again as you clapped a hand over your mouth, “Oh my god. That was fucking awful, Steve. It does look good, though. Can’t believe you’d ruin all of your pretty hair under that hat.”

Steve flushed again, a common occurrence that he couldn’t help when he was around you, and shrugged, “What can I say? I’m dedicated to the costume. I like your costume, too, by the way; you look nice.”

Your eyes lit up at his compliment as you bounced on the balls of your feet nervously, “Yeah? Thanks, Stevie.” You were wearing a short shirt that had “Camp Crystal Lake” printed across the chest, with a picture of a lake underneath it, and a pair of red shorts that were also nearly too short; you were a counselor from one of your favorite horror movies, Friday the 13th. Quite frankly, the costume fit you perfectly, accentuating all of your best features, and you weren’t oblivious to the way his eyes had caught on you when he’d first turned around. 

“Yeah! That’s a great movie.”

“I thought you didn’t like horror movies?” you questioned, a teasing tone lacing your words. You and Eddie had had to convince him more than once to watch a horror movie on one of your movie nights, and he usually hid underneath a blanket for more than half the movie. 

“Well, no,” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he narrowed his eyes at you, “But I’ve seen that one, and it wasn’t bad. Do you want a drink?"

When you quickly agreed, Steve’s hand left your back as he pulled back from you. Before you could mourn the warmth of his hand on your skin, though, his hand was reaching toward yours. “C’mon then, babe.”

Without a second thought, your hand slipped into his, fingers slotting together easily. Steve started pulling you through the crowd, weaving between bodies skillfully. The grip he had on your hand, though gentle, was firm, as if you’d be lost forever if he let go. As if the crowds of people would swallow you whole and carry you away from him. He glanced back a few times to make sure you were alright, flashing you a small smile every single time his eyes caught yours. 

The alcohol was finally starting to hit Steve, making him feel a bit lighter, though maybe it was just from being near you. Your hand in his was enough to make him feel tipsy. To have him questioning if it was real. He definitely didn’t need to have another drink, not if you were going to be holding his hand like your life depended on it. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, to be close to you, but the alcohol had his senses dialed up. Steve knew that if he wasn’t careful, he might let his real feelings for you slip, and he didn’t want to risk the friendship you had. 

Steve shook his head in an attempt to clear it, though the alcohol was making it a bit difficult, and refocused back on you. He gave you a lopsided smile, working to untangle his fingers from yours, “Whaddya want, cutie? Punch? I had two cups and it’s kinda strong because I’m definitely starting to feel it, and—”

“I’ll have punch!” You’d listen to him ramble for hours, but the kitchen was even more packed than the room you’d just been in. You didn’t see Steve drunk, or even tipsy, often, and you adored the way his face flushed red and he started rambling. He’d clearly had just enough to have him feeling good, not enough to tip him over the edge, and it was endearing the way he seemed to let go a little bit. 

Not wanting to be away from your side for too long, Steve hurried across the kitchen to get a cup and fill it with punch for you. He pushed by a few people on his way back, trying to be gentler than the asshole who had pushed you, and frowned as some of the drink spilled over the edge of the cup and ran down his fingers. The pout was still on his lips as he approached you, holding the cup out, “Sorry, didn’t mean to spill it. Here you go, babe.” 

Taking the cup from him carefully, you smiled gratefully, glad that you hadn’t been the one to cross the kitchen, “Thanks, Stevie. You didn’t get one for yourself?”

“Nah, if I have more I’ll be suffering tomorrow,” he replied. As he talked, Steve lifted his hand that was now covered in the sticky punch, and slipped one of his fingers into his mouth to clean it off. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you stared in disbelief as Steve did it again with another finger. This time, he caught the look on your face and his own eyes went wide as he stared at you in confusion, completely oblivious, “What?”

You nearly choked on your drink, and you quickly shook your head, turning away from Steve so he wouldn’t see the reaction you were having. There was no doubt you were attracted to Steve — how could you not be? He was kind and funny and brave, and treated you better than anyone else ever had. The problem was, he wasn’t your boyfriend, and you were fairly certain he had no intention of that. He was a nice guy to everyone.  Just because he called you babe or cutie from time to time, and held your hand or shared blankets with you… that didn’t mean he was interested, and you’d done your best to shove those feelings down. You didn’t want to lose Steve’s friendship above all else, so if you had to pretend your feelings for him were strictly platonic, you could do that. But watching him lick his fingers clean sparked something in your stomach, and made your face feel hot. To be fair, you had already downed a shot with Nancy while the two of you were getting ready, so maybe you could just blame the way your thighs clenched on the alcohol. 

Instead of responding, you downed half the cup of punch just in time for Steve to look back at you, a grin breaking out on his face as he chanted teasingly, “Chug, chug, chug!” 

You nearly choked again, this time as you laughed, sputtering some of the red liquid out of your mouth, “Steve!” You wiped the back of your hand across your mouth to catch the drops sliding down your chin with a giggle, “Stop itttt.”

“Hey!” Steve’s pout matched yours, eyes narrowing at you, bottom lip pushing out, “How come you can tease me when I’m drinking but I can’t tease you?”

Your eyes may have lingered too long on Steve’s lips as he pouted, but he didn’t notice with the way he was unabashedly returning the favor as your tongue darted out to catch the last of the punch that had spilled past your lips. You wondered what his lips would feel like against yours. If they were as soft as they looked. If he was as good a kisser as the girls from high school claimed. You shook your head, desperately trying to focus so you could answer Steve’s question instead of gawk at him, “No, it’s not allowed.” 

Steve laughed hysterically as his arms wrapped over your shoulders so he could pull you into him. He got even more affectionate than normal when he’d had some alcohol. Pressing his lips to your hair, he shook his head, but was totally sincere as he replied, “Okay, fine! I’ll never make fun of you again, cutie. Promise.  Should we find Robin? Or maybe Nancy and Jonathan?” 

His words had you feeling like you were on fire once more, but you quickly agreed, needing to find someone else to get your mind off of Steve. To think of something other than SteveSteveSteveSteve. Your cheek pressed into the rough fabric of the jersey he was wearing, and you nodded against his chest, “Yeah, let’s go find them.” 

“Wait,” he paused, fingers wrapping around your arm as you tried to pull away from his grasp, “you still have…” His sentence trailed off as he licked the pad of his thumb before placing his free hand against your cheek, fingers slipping into the hair just behind your ear. His thumb pressed to your chin, rubbing across your skin carefully in an attempt to get rid of the last of the punch that you’d spilled. Steve’s hand slid down, fingers hooking underneath your chin as his thumb dragged down, pulling on your bottom lip slightly, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you then and there, his eyes flashing with something you hadn’t seen in them before. But as quickly as it came, it disappeared, and Steve was back to his tipsy, bubbly self, “Got it!”

You felt absolutely breathless, frozen in place as Steve pulled away searching the crowd for anyone he recognized. “You coming or what, babe?” 

“I, uh–” you shook your head to clear it and moved towards Steve, “Yeah, ‘m coming.” 

Finding Robin seemed to be a lost cause, but Nancy and Jonathan had been easy to find, talking to some of Nancy’s friends from high school, drinks in hand. And after talking for a bit, it didn’t take much to pull your friends away to dance with you. You immediately grabbed Steve, feeling bolder than you normally would be, and pulled him into you, chest to chest. 

Steve’s heart thudded in his chest as his hands grabbed at your hips at the same time, fingers pressing lightly into the soft skin there as you swayed to the music. Had he been sober and more aware of what he was really doing, he probably would’ve been much more flustered with the way you were pressed up against him. And, had he been sober, he would’ve seen the look Nancy and Jonathan were exchanging knowingly, with Nancy in on Robin’s plan. 

–

Robin found you a bit later, the sound of your name being called over the music was enough to get your attention, and you quickly stopped dancing next to Nancy to search the crowd of people surrounding you. It wasn’t hard to find Robin, who was already pretty tall and was wearing heels for her costume. You grinned at her, throwing your arms out to her for a hug as you shrieked her name, “Robin!”

“Hey, hot stuff!” she replied, wrapping you up in her arms, careful of the drink in her hand, “Where have you beeeen? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

You scoffed, “Stevie and I have been dancing. Thought maybe you weren’t here,” you said, pushing your bottom lip out into a pout. 

“I am! I have been the whole time!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, “I’m glad I found you! We’re gonna play a game!” She paused and turned to point at Steve who had been watching the two of you, “You too, dingus! You’re gonna play, too.”

“What? No, Robin, I don’t—”

“Please, Stevie?” you asked, cutting him off with wide, pleading eyes, even though you had no idea what the game actually was, or who you’d be playing with. 

The alcohol Steve had consumed was now starting to wear off, while it seemed like it was in full swing for you. Had Robin shown up half an hour ago while he was still feeling tipsy, and was actually dancing with you, he would’ve agreed no problem. Now, as he started to think a bit more clearly, he knew that Robin’s drunk ideas usually weren’t her best, and at the very least, he’d make sure you all didn’t get into too much trouble. And, as always, he couldn’t say no to the look you were giving him. “Okay, okay, fine! I’ll play.”

Reaching out to close the distance between the two of you, your fingers curled around Steve’s bicep to pull him closer. You were giving him the brightest smile he’d ever seen as you leaned into his side, “Yay! C’mon, Harrington.”

The smile that pulled at Steve’s lips was involuntary as your hand pushed down his arm and into his own hand, tugging him behind you as you followed Robin through the house, back to the other side where she’d been beforehand with a few other friends. They weren’t really people you knew – mostly Robin’s friends from band, and Eddie and a few of his friends – but you weren’t going to let that stop you from having fun. 

“Okay!” Robin clapped her hands, drawing the attention of the small group, “Everyone stand up, get in a circle. We’re playing a new game!” 

“What game is it?” Eddie grumbled, ever the contrarian, though he was getting to his feet to do as Robin said. 

Steve had also reluctantly joined the circle, standing at one of Robin’s sides, arms crossed over his chest as he waited impatiently for her to explain what was going on. You couldn’t help but giggle at his sullen expression as you glanced at him from the other side of your friend standing between the two of you. Your laugh caught his attention, and he cracked a smile as he glanced over Robin to look at you, eyebrows furrowing together as if he was asking “What’s so funny?”

You shook your head, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with a smile as you quickly glanced away, trying to focus on what Robin was saying. Only after you’d listen to half of the “rules” did you realize that this was some kind of speed costume changing game, and you groaned, feeling a bit too tipsy for trying to change quickly. Not only that, but this felt like a game that some boy in high school had come up with in hopes to see the girl he liked half naked. 

“On the count of three, find someone that you want to change costumes with, and then we’ll time everyone! One… two… three!” 

You’d been counting on switching with Robin, considering she was right next to you, and you could probably get into at least some of her clothes. Steve had a similar idea – who else was he going to switch with when he’d already shared clothes with her before? – and turned in her direction. Robin, on the other hand, had a different idea, pointing aggressively at Nancy who was across the circle from her, “Nance! You’re my partner!” She quickly stepped out from between you and Steve and darted over to Nancy without letting her respond. 

At the same time, both you and Steve groaned in frustration, “Robin!” She all but cackled, an evil grin on her face that you knew meant this had been her plan all along. You’d told her about your feelings for Steve, but you never expected her to use that information against you.  

Still, you turned to Steve with a grin, hooking your arm through his to pull him closer to you, “Guess you’re my partner, Harrington! No backing out now!” 

As soon as he realized that partners were being shoved in one of the closets one at a time to change as fast as possible, Steve wished desperately that he could back out. His face burned at just the thought of being in a confined space with you while you took off your clothes. He didn’t have long to think about it, though, as after two other pairs were timed, Robin quickly pushed the two of you in, closing the door behind you and plunging you into complete darkness, except for the small sliver from under the door. 

You and Steve weren’t strangers to being close to one another, but this felt like a new level of intimacy, and Steve didn’t know what to do. His heart was pounding in his ears, so loud he was worried you’d be able to hear it, too, considering how close you were. It didn’t seem to affect you as much, though maybe that was just the alcohol, and you giggled with an urgent whisper, “Quick! Switch costumes with me, Steve! I don’t wanna lose!” With that, you pulled your shirt over your head, nearly elbowing Steve in the face with how fast you were moving. Steve immediately averted his eyes to the dark ceiling, wanting to be a gentleman, though he’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about you shirtless. 

Frustrated with how slow he was moving, you gave his shoulder a weak push, “C’mon, Stevie!”

Steve huffed, amused with how badly you wanted to win, even though he knew it wasn’t going to happen, “Okay, I’m going!” He started unbuttoning the baseball jersey as fast as he could as you started to shove your shorts down your legs, and suddenly his buttons became a lot more interesting, fingers fumbling with the small pieces of plastic. The closet felt scorching hot as he shrugged off the jersey and quickly pulled the  plain white tee he was wearing underneath off as well, shoving it in your direction. “Jesus, babe. Here.”

The shirt you’d been wearing had been quickly dropped to the floor as you pulled Steve’s shirt over your head, immediately engulfed in his scent. He always smelled nice, and this shirt was no exception. As much as you wanted to hug yourself and breathe in Steve’s comforting scent, you also wanted to win, and slipped the jersey on, motioning for Steve to take his pants off next. Your voice was frantic when you spoke again, “Pants! Give ‘em to me!”

The giggling from his friends outside the door was distracting to Steve as he thought of ways he could get back at Robin for this. It was torture, really, being shoved into a small space with the girl he liked while they undressed, but in a situation where he couldn’t touch her without seeming like a perv. He was only snapped out of his thoughts when your hands reached out towards his waist, going for the button on his pants. There was no way he could let that happen, and pushed your hands away, all but shouting, “I got it!”

He quickly shimmied out of his pants and traded them with you for the tiny shorts you’d been wearing. Groaning internally, Steve pulled them up his legs and knew immediately that he looked ridiculous. They barely fit over his thighs, and his ass was nearly hanging out. It was bordering on completely inappropriate to be wearing in public; he might as well just be wearing his boxers with how little it left to the imagination. “These do not fit.”

Just then, you stumbled forward as you tried to get Steve’s baseball pants on, hand catching on his chest for the second time that evening. His hand shot out as if on instinct, grasping at the bare skin of your hip to steady you, even though there wasn’t really any place for you to go. You were giggling like a maniac, breathless as you murmured a thanks and pulled the pants up all the way. It was only as you buttoned the pants that you realized your shirt had dropped on the ground, and you grabbed it, shoving it into his hands, failing at your horrible attempt to avoid looking at his bare chest, “Last one!”

Steve stared at the fabric in his hands skeptically; the shirt was already short on you, there was no way this wasn’t going to be the most extreme crop top anyone had ever seen on him, “I don’t wanna rip it!”

“You won’t!” you reassured him, “‘s okay if you do, anyway. ‘M never gonna wear it again.”

Letting out what was possibly the most dramatic sigh you’d ever heard, Steve pulled your shirt over his head. The fabric stretched around his arms and chest, the hem falling just below his pecs. His entire stomach was exposed, and while it wasn’t exactly what he’d prepared for that night, the smile on your face in the dark made it worth it. 

As your hand reached for the doorknob, Steve realized you were missing one last piece of his costume, “Wait! Can't forget this.” He lifted his hat off of his head and placed it on yours carefully, running his hand through his hair, “Okay, we’re good.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as he placed his hat on your head, and you nearly dropped everything to kiss him then and there, but the sound of someone laughing outside the door caught your attention. You gave Steve a grin and then pushed the door open, nearly falling over yourself as you shouted, “We’re done! Did we win?!”

Steve’s hand was at your hip again to steady you as he followed you out. He finally felt like he could breathe again. The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but it felt like he’d spent a lifetime in the closet with you. So close, but so far. 

So wrapped up in his own thoughts, Steve missed everything you and Robin were discussing, until there was a loud wolf whistle from someone else in the group, “Damn, Harrington! Who knew you had all that ass!”

 Without even glancing in the direction of the noise, Steve knew who it was. He flipped his middle finger up but grinned at his friend, “Fuck off, Munson!”

You let out a laugh as you turned to Steve to say something, but you felt like all of the air had been sucked out of your lungs when you finally properly saw Steve. It’d been too dark in the closet to really see what your clothes looked like on Steve, so you were surprised to see how little of your costume actually covered him. His biceps, stomach, and legs were on full display, and somehow, it still wasn’t enough. Your eyes caught on his arms, the small moles and freckles that covered his stomach, and then, the trail of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of the much-too-short shorts. 

Robin, who was standing next to you, nudged your shoulder, a smirk evident on her face. Her plan was working. You were short-circuiting. Even though your head was feeling less fuzzy due to the alcohol, you might as well have been drunk on Steve. You watched for a few seconds as he found space on the couch to sit down, his cheeks flushed a light pink, and then turned to your friend. 

“Robin!” you hissed her name, grabbing at her elbow to pull her closer to you. You gave her the most menacing glare you could muster, but before you could say anything else, she let out a low giggle. 

She looked quite pleased with herself, leaning in and whispering loudly, “Did anything happen in there?” 

“No! How would that even be possible?” you asked, laughing a little yourself at her ridiculousness. 

“Dunno, but a girl’s gotta try. Still have the rest of the night to make something happen.” 

As much as you didn’t want to give in to Robin’s hand, you were starting to realize that if she was trying this hard to get something to happen between you and Steve, it probably meant that Steve felt something for you too. You narrowed your eyes at her and then huffed, all but stomping away in search of Steve. If something was going to happen, it had to happen before you lost the confidence. 

He was still sitting on the couch, chatting with Eddie, but quickly looked up as you walked over, eyebrows furrowed in concern at your seriousness, “Are you okay?”

“Will you come with me?” you asked instead of answering his question, holding your hand out to him. 

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, still confused, but took your hand in his and stood up, allowing you to lead him away. You weaved in and out of people, trudging up the stairs to find a quieter place to talk. 

When you finally found an empty bathroom, you flicked on the lights and pulled Steve inside, shutting and locking the door behind you so no one would bother you. The music from downstairs had quieted to a dull thud and suddenly the idea of confessing your feelings felt much more daunting in the harsh light of the bathroom. You quickly turned away from Steve to try to take a deep breath, wringing your hands. Steve watched in concern, reaching a hand out to rest on your forearm gently, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay? Did something happen?” 

You were just going to have to go for it. Turning around quickly to face him again, you started rambling, “I don’t really know how to say this, so I think I just have to jump into the fucking deep end and say it. Especially since Robin’s getting on my nerves with all of the scheming and smug smiles, which I’m sure you’ve noticed, but if I’m reading this wrong, I’m really sorry, we can just pretend it never happened, and–”

“Say what, babe?” Steve interrupted, shaking his head which caused his hair to bounce slightly, “You’re worrying me.” 

“I really like you, Steve. A lot.”

It was silent for a moment, and you couldn’t tell what Steve was thinking with the way he was staring at you so intently, nearly scrutinizing. Your heart began pounding in your chest, worried that you had read the entire situation wrong. His arms crossed over his chest and he let out a soft sigh, “You’re drunk.” 

“I’m not!” you insisted quickly, shaking your head vehemently, “Maybe the tiniest bit tipsy, but mostly sober, I swear. I’m– I’m serious, Steve. I just… I thought maybe Robin had a point? And honestly, you look so fucking good in those shorts, and I–”

You were cut off as Steve surged forward, one hand moving to cup the back of your head, the other grabbing at your hip to pull your body into his. Before you could process what was happening, Steve’s lips were on yours and he was kissing you desperately. Your hands struggled to find purchase as they landed on his shoulders and you kissed him back, hardly able to believe that this was actually happening. That you were kissing Steve. But just as soon as you’d started to wrap your head around it, Steve pulled back, eyes wide, chest heaving. 

“You don’t…” he stopped himself and shook his head as he looked down at the floor for a moment before looking up to you, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. How long I’ve liked you.”  His hand that had grabbed at your side flattened as he smoothed over the fabric of the baseball pants, his gaze dropping down to the floor again bashfully. 

“Are you drunk?” you asked in disbelief. 

Steve laughed, a soft and amused sound, as he shook his head and repeated your earlier sentiment, “No. Just barely tipsy, almost completely sober. I feel sober now.” 

The kiss had sobered you up, too. Your hands slid down from his shoulders, palms resting flat against his chest as you tilted your head up so you could see him clearly. You could count each individual eyelash if you wanted. Count each and every freckle on his face. But all you really wanted was to kiss him. 

Your lips met his again as you pushed your chin up, fingers curling into the fabric of the shirt as Steve sighed into your mouth. Both of his hands dropped to your waist, pressing against your body gently until the small of your back bumped into the counter behind you. He squeezed your waist again as he murmured against your lips, “Up.” 

You jumped just enough as he helped to lift you onto the counter. His palms grasped at your thighs, fingers digging into the softness there as he stepped into the space between your legs. Once his lips were back on yours, his hands dropped down to your ass and pulled you forward on the counter easily. The feeling made you gasp; your shorts on him left little to the imagination with how you were pressed against him, “Steve.” Your own hands slid down from where they were resting against his chest and pushed against the soft lines of his abdomen, feeling up towards the tiny shirt on him.

“Mm?” he hummed, distracted by the feeling of your hands on his skin. His lips trailed along your jaw, nipping at your skin softly. 

“Want you,” you breathed out, eyes fluttering shut momentarily at the feeling of his lips on your neck. 

This caught Steve’s attention and his eyes lit up at your admission, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, cheeks filling with heat as you recalled the moment earlier in the evening when Steve had licked the spilled punch off of his fingers, “Want… want your fingers.”  

“Shit, okay, babe. Just let me…” he trailed off as his fingers hooked into the waistband of the baseball pants. You lifted your hips to help, letting him drag the fabric down your legs and drop them to the floor. Steve’s eyes caught on the wet spot in the center of your underwear and he cursed softly as his hands slid back up your legs, thumbs sliding up the inside of your thighs. A smirk was growing on his lips, “Y’already so wet, baby.” 

You let out a soft huff of embarrassment, cheek pressing into your shoulder to ease the burn as you looked up at Steve, “You’re… you just… you look really fucking hot in basically a crop top and short shorts and then you’re kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before, and–”

“Relax, cutie. I got you,” Steve’s eyes softened, the pads of his thumbs rubbing small circles up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the hem of your panties. At the same time, the tip of his nose brushed down the length of yours before gently nudging up against yours until he caught your lips with his own. 

He kissed you a bit softer than he had before, murmuring as his fingers slipped under the hem of your panties, rubbing back and forth against the delicate skin, “Can I get rid of these?”

Instead of answering, you lifted your hips off of the counter again so Steve could pull the fabric off. It dangled off of your ankle for a moment before falling to the ground to join the pants. Steve’s hands were warm at your knees as he pushed your legs apart, but before he could properly touch you, you grabbed at his wrist, fingers circling around it carefully. He watched you in confusion, about to speak but quickly cut himself off when you finally did what you’d been wanting to do all evening. 

You pulled his hand up to your mouth, kissing his palm once before your tongue darted out to circle his middle and ring fingers. Steve’s jaw dropped open slightly, eyes somehow growing even wider as you took his fingers into your mouth, his breath hitching, “Jesus fucking christ, babe, I—” Your hand still wrapped around his wrist gave it a small tug, releasing his fingers from your lips with a small pop. “Fuckin’ hell, baby.”

Steve kissed you like it was his last chance, tugging at your lips and licking into your mouth, distracting you enough to let his hand drift back down to your center. You jolted forward, whining into his mouth as his spit-slick fingers traced up your center until his fingertip nudged into your clit. “Please, Stevie.”

“I got you, baby,” he replied softly, emphasizing his words with another circle over your clit. Then, as if reading your mind, he slipped two fingers into you, drawing quiet moans from the both of you. “Shit, you’re so tight.”

His words had you clenching around his fingers as you leaned back, pressing your palms into the cool countertops beneath you. Finally, he started moving his fingers, thrusting them in and out of your cunt at a slow pace. “Steve, I need— oh, shit— I need more.”

Happy to oblige, Steve picked up the pace a bit, fingertips just grazing the spot that was going to make you see stars. Ever in tune with you and your body, he heard your soft whimper, and saw the way your fingers curled over the edge of the countertop, knuckles white with how tightly you were gripping it. He didn’t really have to ask, but did anyway, a knowing smirk settling over his lips, “Right there?”

“Ri-right there,” you repeated, voice breaking as you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against Steve’s hand. He curled his fingers inside of you and then he doubled down, fingertips repeatedly rubbing against the same spot that had you keening before. And when his thumb pressed to your clit, you nearly fell apart then and there.  

“C’mon, baby, know you’re close,” Steve muttered, rubbing his thumb over your clit again and again and again until you were clenching around him and falling over the edge with a loud moan of his name.

Your head fell back, thudding against the mirror on the wall behind you as you gasped for air, knocking Steve’s hat on your head off, chest heaving, “Fuck, Steve, I–” The words died in your throat as your eyes fluttered open, only to find Steve with his fingers halfway to his mouth. 

He paused for a moment but quickly took note of the way your breath hitched, eyes wide, and slipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean for the second time that evening. You squirmed against the counter, trying to shuffle off of it as Steve hummed around his fingers and then pulled them from his lips, “Mm, y’taste so good, babe.” 

“Holy shit, Stevie,” you gasped as you stumbled off of the counter. 

Steve’s hands shot out, grabbing at your hips to steady you, “You okay?”

“More than okay,” you replied, nodding as your hands trailed down Steve’s chest. To prove your point, you leaned up on your toes and pressed your mouth to his. One of your hands curled into the tiny shirt as you kissed him, and the other slid down his chest and abdomen, brushing over the soft hair that disappeared under the waistband of the shorts. You paused, pulling your mouth from Steve’s to look up at him through your eyelashes, “Can I?”

“I— yeah,” Steve nodded hard, hair bouncing with the movement. He looked so pretty — prettier than normal — with his messy hair and wide hazel eyes, lips pink and shiny from your kissing. As he dipped back down to kiss you again, you slid your hand under the waistband of the shorts, but over his boxers. He groaned as you began palming him, and you nearly did as well. 

The shorts left very little to the imagination — you knew Steve was big, but feeling him hard in your hand was something completely different. You wanted him, and you weren’t sure you could wait much longer. Your fingers tugged at the shorts and his boxers, discarding them into the pile of your clothes, and you pressed a kiss to his hipbone as you straightened up again, “What… what do you want, Stevie?”

His chest heaved as your hand wrapped around his length, stroking him slowly while you waited for an answer. Steve felt like he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t function. Not when you were finally, finally touching him. He wanted to do so many things with you, but most of all, he wanted you. “Need to be inside you, baby, fuck.”

Your breath hitched a little at his admission and you nodded quickly, wanting whatever he wanted, “Okay. ‘M yours, Stevie.”

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” he groaned, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your hips again to help you back onto the counter and pull you towards the edge. “Do you— um, I don’t have a condom, I—”

“‘S okay,” you shook your head quickly, leaning back into your hands as one of your legs hooked around Steve’s waist and pulled him in closer to you, “‘m on the pill.”

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, eyes searching yours carefully. 

“Positive, Steve. I want you. Have for a long time.”

That was enough for Steve, and he shuffled forward, one hand resting against your waist while the other reached down to line himself up at your entrance. You sucked in a sharp breath as Steve pushed in slowly, your hands sliding into his hair at the back of his head. It was more of a stretch than you were used to, and it must have shown on your face because Steve’s hand left your hip and came up to cradle your cheek carefully, lips pressing to the corner of your mouth, “Okay?”

“Mhm,” you breathed out heavily, eyes flicking open to find Steve’s face centimeters from yours. His thumb rubbed soothingly over your cheekbone, back and forth a few times, and you nodded, “More, Steve.”

Steve nodded, pressing another soft kiss to your lips as he pushed forward again slowly, searching your face for any sign that you wanted to stop. And when he found none, he continued until his hips were flush with yours. His jaw clenched, fingers digging into your thigh that was around his waist, and hitched it higher up his side to push a bit deeper. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he murmured, dropping kisses to your shoulder. 

Your mind was racing, but with thoughts of only SteveSteveSteveSteve once again. Your senses were flooded with him; the smell of his cologne and sweat, the sound of his heavy breaths in your ear, the taste of his lips on yours, his hands on your body and his cock buried deep inside your cunt. With a gasping breath, you pulled Steve’s chest to yours, your other leg wrapping around his waist. “Ready. ‘M ready. You can move.” 

His hands slid under your arms and wrapped around your back to hold you against him as he began to move his hips slowly, “God, baby, you— fuck— you feel so good around me. So good for me, huh? Been wanting you like this forever.”

You rolled your hips into his as you all but sobbed his name, pressing your heels into the small of his back. He took the hint quickly and picked up the pace, the filthy sound of his skin smacking yours filling the small bathroom. Your hands searched over his shoulders and back, slipping underneath the shirt of yours that he was somehow still wearing, nails digging into his skin. 

Steve’s chin hooked over your shoulder, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind you. He looked just as fucked out as he felt; eyes and hair wild as he clung to you. What really got to him, though, was the sight of his last name sprawled across your back. Maybe, just maybe, you’d finally be his after all of this. Heart racing at the sight, he set a punishing pace, “Look so fuckin’ good in my clothes, sweetheart. You’re so… so fucking perfect.” 

“Steve— oh fuck— you feel so good. Gonna come soon, ‘m so close—” you were mumbling incoherently into Steve’s neck, trying your best to meet his thrusts, which became harder as one of his hands snaked down between the two of you to rub over your clit. You clenched around him again at the feeling, pulling the best noise you’d ever heard from the back of Steve’s throat. Your moan echoed his, completely oblivious to the fact that you were still at a party and that someone could probably hear you. 

“Gonna come for me, my pretty girl?”

My pretty girl. His and only his. It was enough for you to come undone, Steve’s name intertwined with the curses and filthy moans you couldn’t hold back. His thrusts faltered, hips stuttering against yours as he came, your name spilling from his lips in a way you wanted to hear again and again and again. 

Your chest heaved against his as you both tried to catch your breaths, and you left soft, open-mouthed kisses to the crook of his neck where you’d buried your face as you’d come. His hands were gentle as they pushed up your thighs and hips, around your back to slip under the shirt of his you were wearing. They were exceptionally warm, tracing over the curve of your spine as he pressed your body into his, voice soft at your ear as he murmured, “Are you okay?”

You let out a soft laugh as you kissed up Steve’s jaw, fingers slipping into the slightly damp hair at the nape of his neck, twisting a strand around your index finger, “‘M perfect, Steve. Are you okay?”

“Fuck,” he laughed, shaking his head in amusement, popping up from your shoulder to look into your eyes, “I’ve never been better. Meant what I said… been wanting you forever.” 

“Yeah?” you asked quietly, feeling bashful, like he wasn’t still inside of you.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, dipping his head down to press a soft peck to your lips. At the same time, his hands moved back down to your hips, holding you tightly as he finally pulled out. You winced slightly at the feeling, causing a soft apology to tumble from Steve’s lips, followed by another soft peck. 

It was quiet as you cleaned each other up as best as you could, stealing sweet kisses from the other more often than necessary. The sound of the music had finally come back into focus, and you realized that it wasn’t as loud as you’d remembered. Still, you’d do it all again, even though you weren't sure you could walk, and you knew your friends were going to give you shit for how long the two of you had disappeared. 

As you redressed, you finally swapped your clothes back, but just as you were about to give Steve the last piece of his costume — the jersey — he shook his head, cupping your cheek in his hand, tilting your head up, “You wear it. Looks better on you. And besides, need everyone to know you’re mine now.” 

You didn’t put up a fight, grinning and shrugging the jersey back over your shirt that Steve had definitely stretched out. Smoothing down your shirt, you held your hands out to your sides slightly, “Good?” 

Steve laughed again, reaching out to swipe a thumb under your eye in an attempt to remove some of the mascara that had smudged, “As good as it’s gonna get. And still perfect. Ready?”

Before he could open the door, you grabbed his hat off of the counter and brushed his hair back before placing it on his head, “For the sex hair. Oh, and Steve?”

“Yeah, cutie?” 

“Good game!” you giggled, slapping his ass before bolting out of the bathroom, leaving Steve to stare after you for a few moments with the biggest grin on his face. 

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #strangertober #best friend!steve #best friend!steve harrington #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #sunshinehollandd #sunshinehollandd writing

[underoossss]

Hey!! Can I get a Steve x reader fluff where Steve loves the readers forehead kisses so she does it more and more and he melts with how loved and cared for he feels in the moment. If you can’t I understand :))

I wrote a small blurb for you, i hope you like it 🥺

✧✧✧✧

Steve knows he’s been starving for affection; it’s his body’s way of trying to make up for more than 15 years in an affection-less home –with barely-there parents and big fights whenever they were home. The worst part though, is that it never made him cold or unapproachable, in fact, he had so much affection to give that he didn’t know what to do with it. It wasn’t until he met, and subsequently fell in love with you, that he got the chance to give out his affection as freely as you do.

He’s almost sure that you have magic of some kind. It must be there, shining inside your heart, because the moment he met you it was like –as cliché as it sounds– the world made sense. Steve had firmly believed that his life would be nothing more than mediocre jobs, disappointing everyone, and walking through it without something meaningful happening. But then there was you. Steve can’t even describe the way he felt when he met you –he thought something had pierced his heart when you smiled at him, the sight leaving him a babbling and breathless fool. You’d taken his hand from where he was metaphorically cowering on the floor, afraid of the future, simmering in self-hatred, yearning for love, and helped him stand. You’d accepted all his love and returned it ten-fold, showering him in affection whenever you could.

Which leads Steve to today, a stressful workday that left him exhausted and desperate to get home. His true home. You. You had fallen into a habit of spending most weekends over at his house, and knowing your shift ended earlier than his today, Steve is sure he’ll find you there once he arrives. He can’t wait. So, he clocks out of work, gets in his car, and sets off to you.

✧✧✧✧

You’re finishing dinner when Steve arrives, in fact you hear a car on the driveway and immediately know it’s him. A smile makes its way to your face as you hear the keys jingle on the front door before it opens and closes.

“I’m in the kitchen.” You say over your shoulder, as your eyes stay glued to the food you’re currently stirring on a pot. There’s faint music playing from the radio, and the aromatic scent of the food you’re preparing floods the kitchen. You hope Steve finds it as comforting as you after his long shift at his new job.

The sound of things falling on the carpeted living room floor reaches your ears and before you can question what it was, a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. A second later you’re scooped into Steve’s arms, your back pressed to your front as he spins you around. You laugh, and he does as well, and for a moment it’s magic. Until Steve sets you down and buries his face in your neck, arms tightening around you.

“Hi Stevie.”  You tell him.

“I missed you,” Steve mumbles against your skin; you feel him breathe you in and lean more of his weight on you, like he’s exhausted from the day.

“I missed you too,” Turning around and knowing something’s off, you bring your hands to his face. You can see the weight that’s settled on his shoulders, it wasn’t there in the morning so something must have happened at work. “What’s wrong?”

Steve shrugs and you run your fingers through his hair, knowing there’s something wrong but he’s not saying. Turning off the stove, you take his hand and walk towards the couch.

“Babe the food—”

“It can wait. Come on, you need a cuddle.” You settle on the couch, against the soft cushions and Steve wastes no time crawling over you; his face on your chest, close to your collarbones and his arms hold on to you.

“I’m so glad I didn’t have to ask,” He mumbles.

“You can always ask, Stevie.” You lean down and kiss his forehead feeling him melt closer to you. It makes you smile. “Did something happen today?”

“I fucked something up, as always.” Steve’s frustration makes itself known immediately with the tone of his voice. “It was something so simple and I managed to make a mess.”

“Stevie,” You shake your head, “Please don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Steve sighs and holds you closer, his nose next to your neck. You feel his warm breath on your skin when he speaks again. “It makes me feel like a failure.”

“What does?” You prompt, running your fingers up and down his back. Despite your best efforts the tension in his back doesn’t leave with the soothing movements.

Getting all these things wrong at work. It all makes me feel stupid.” He shakes his head, you feel the movement on your chest. “Like I’m going to lose this job sooner or later.”

“Babe, come on.” You interrupt him. “You’re learning. You know you haven’t been there for long and it’s your first office job.”

Steve huffs and sits up, his body heat leaving you as he leans his back against the back of the couch. He runs a hand though his hair in exasperation, “For good reason.”

It’s your turn to huff and move to sit on his lap, looking at him sternly. Steve welcomes you greedily, loving this amount of physical touch more than anything; arms going around your waist and fisting your tshirt despite him looking away. You hold his face in your hands, trying to get him to look at you as you  trace his freckles with your eyes. When he doesn’t give in you lean up and kiss his forehead once more, feeling him relax underneath you.

“You worked hard to get that job, Stevie.” You say firmly, hoping to quiet the little voice in his head. You saw firsthand the amount of care and studying he put into the training program; you smiled every time he came back home and talked to you excitedly about the things he’d learned. “You deserve that job.”

“It was luck.” Steve rolls his eyes and bites the inside of his cheek, “Just look at the mess I’m making.”

“It’s natural to struggle at first, but I know you’ll run circles around everyone else soon enough.” Leaning closer to him, you brush your nose against his. “I’m proud of you no matter how many things you fuck up at work, you know that right?”

Steve nod, still refusing to look at you, which you fix by taking a gentle hold of his chin and bringing his gaze to you. “You know better than to tie your worth to something like that, when there are more important things out there.” You smile softly at him, hoping he can see the sincerity of your words in your eyes.

He shakes his head. “But—”

“No buts, Stevie. A job is all it is. You’re the one that matters.” Your hand loves to his hair where your run your fingers through soft strands. “You’re so kind, and protective; you never give up. Hold on to that.”

Steve closes his eyes, pondering your words for a moment before he nods; a small smile appears on his lips a second later. “You’re right.”

You kiss Steve’s forehead again, and this time a sigh escapes him —there’s a dopey grin on his face, a stark contrast to the mood he was in earlier. His lips place a kiss to your chin, where he mumbles his next words. “I adore you.”

“Me or the forehead kisses?” You ask, knowing the answer but loving the way he blushes. Steve shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“You, beautiful. Definitely you.” He leans in and kisses you on the lips this time. The fact that you’re in his favourite position to make out doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and not wasting a second he pulls you closer when he kisses you again. You spend minutes like that, making up for the kisses you didn’t share over your working hours —you, reassuring Steve with each kiss and him thanking you with his.

“Thank you.“ Steve whispers the words  against your lips, his beautiful smile shinning up at you.

You shake your head and kiss him again, he knows he doesn’t need to thank you. He’d to the same for you and more.  “Come on, handsome.  Help me finish up dinner.”

#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington x f!reader #steve x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington fluff

[mrsharrington83]

Code Blue

Summary; The aftermath leaves Y/N second guessing everything in her life. Losing friends and witnessing her boyfriend of two years getting closer to his ex is enough to push her over the edge. Will they be able to pull themselves out of this hole that’s darker than the Upside Down itself? (For the sake of this fic, what happened at the end of the last episode of season 4 hasn’t yet happened)

Warnings; usual Stranger Things, things. Swearing, blood, injury, alcohol consumption, mentions of death and suicidal thoughts. If any of this is triggering, please don’t read.

A/N; I haven’t written anything in so long! It’s a long fic! 6.5K words, my longest on here yet. I apologise if this is bad, I’ve just been in a writing mood so thought I’d let out a lot of angst and fluff (we love it) I am a British writer (England) so sorry if things don’t make sense to you! Thank you for stopping by, hopefully my writing streak stays strong. Requests are always open. Love to all xoxo

The aftermath of the supposed earthquake had everyone second guessing. Some people left, other people were packing to leave. Having known what really went down, you sat in silence staring into your vanity mirror as everyone else you knew went to help the community at Hawkins High.

You just couldn’t stomach it. Cuts and grazes over your skin, tiredness evident in your eyes, your hair still clumped with dirt from the Upside Down, dried blood. You hadn’t even showered yet. You didn’t know how to process anything that had happened over the past 72 hours. You were accustomed to this kind of thing having it been a big part of your life for the past few years, the most recent battle however, took the biscuit.

Small Polaroid pictures littered around the back wall of your desk. Smiles, memories, better times. Max and Dustin when she stole his cap. They were in mid laugh so it was blurred a bit, but a happy memory that was stuck in time. That same Max was now in hospital, fractured bones, blind, unresponsive. Not laughing and joking with her friends, not happy, not anything. Doctors didn’t know if she’d ever wake. She was such a selfless soul, way beyond her years, but still so young. Too young. You all were.

Pictures of the group, you and your boyfriend Steve. A picture of you and Eddie during a D&D game. His hair all over the place, tongue sticking out, you laughing, Dustin in the background pulling a stupid face.

Memories.

Eddie.

Your best friend.

Gone.

Just like that.

He didn’t run this time, and fuck. You really wished he did.

The tick of your small clock dragged you away from the pictures, the light ticking mocking you, “shut up! Shut the fuck up!” you screamed from deep in your lungs, a howl so painful from your chest, putting what was left of your strength and upset from the past few weeks into knocking the blasted thing to the floor, hearing the glass and mechanics hit the floor in one swoop. It was a gift from Eddie one Christmas as you were pretty much always late. Bittersweet.

Guilt built in your stomach as you stood up fast, pushing your stool back with your legs, failing to the floor, cupping the bits of broken glass as sobs wracked your body, not realising your hands were clenched around the shards, the all too familiar claret running through the lines in your palm and down your fingers, dripping into a pool on the wooden flooring of the bedroom.

Your breathing hitched as you remembered Eddie die in your arms, the way blood trickled from his mouth. The look of pure terror on his face. He knew he was dying, but he kept it together till the very end for the sake of you and Dustin. His best friends, the people that were there for him no matter what everyone else was saying. You didn’t want to believe it. Dustin’s screams and sobs as the light left his eyes. You saw them gloss over. The way you both shook him, screamed into his ear, telling him not to leave you both behind. Your hands covered in blood. His blood.

Dropping the bits of glass on the floor, you pushed your feet and newly cut hands against the floor, the small slitters of glass that were still on your palm slicing deeper into your flesh until your back met the wall, your hands and body shaking, the tightness in your chest getting worse and you struggled to fill your lungs with air. You felt like you were about to pass out.

The past 72 hours had been, by far, the worst time of your life. You’d witnessed what you thought was your boyfriend of two years get closer to his ex, eyes can be deceiving, but there was something in his own eyes that glimmered whenever he spoke to Nancy, deep down you always wondered what Steve saw in you. Maybe you were just a knock off version of Nancy. Someone to keep him grounded in all of this. A warm body to forget all the wrongdoing in the world. Someone he knew cared about him. Perhaps more than he cared for you. You didn’t know that of course, it was just what your mind was telling you.

Your best friend had died for a town that hated him, Max, the girl who had adopted you as a cooler older sister after Billie died was lying in a hospital bed with the looming same fate, Vecna was still out there somewhere and you were sure there was even more danger on the horizon.

Even after everything that happened, your mum hadn’t bothered coming home. She was always away with her new man for weeks on end. She had called up one night before the phone lines cut out to make sure the house was still standing after witnessing the news, but other than that all you got was, ‘with everything that’s happened in Hawkins, I’m going to stay with carl for another few weeks, maybe more. Be careful out there.’”

You’d never felt more alone. You didn’t blame your friends or Steve. They wanted to help out, of course they did. You did too, but you were in no way the right frame of mind to be seeing people crying for their loved ones, talking to people that had lost others whilst you were reeling from losing your own.

You pulled yourself off the floor with great difficulty. It felt like you had a ton of bricks weighed down on you. Metaphorically speaking, you did. Though it wasn’t bricks, it was the weight of hurt and anger, of death piling up one by one. “Get yourself together Y/N. get your fucking self together.” Rummaging through your dresser, careful not to get blood on everything, you pulled out some comfortable lounge clothes that were bigger in size, purposely avoiding one of Steve’s t-shirts as you dragged yourself to the bathroom.

Putting down the toilet seat, you placed your clothes and rinsed your hands under the cold tap. Water on open cuts made you wince, but at least you felt something other than emotional pain. Watching your fresh blood mix with water and into the sink like a mini whirlpool was almost mesmerising. Picking out the last few shards of glass making the water redder with each bit. You were lucky water was still running. There were some parts of Hawkins that had no water.

Turning the dial on the shower you undressed. Peeling your clothes from your skin. Clothes you wouldn’t bother to wash. They would go straight in the bin. You had enough awful reminders on that night, you didn’t need more. Stepping into the shower, careful not to slip, you submerged yourself in warm, running water and closed your eyes, feeling old blood, mud and debris leave your tired body.

Steve had come home early, with both of your parents almost always being away you basically lived with each other. When your mum was away, he’d stay with you and if his parents were away, you’d stay with him. He had his own keys to your place, and you had your own to his.

Steve kicked his shoes off in the hallway, tiredness in his bones. The house was silent apart from the sound of water from the shower, you were at least out of bed. When Steve left this morning you were curled up in a ball with covers over your head, blocking out the world. He leant down and burrowed his head in your blankets kissing the top of your head, saying how much he loved you and that he’d be back as soon as he’d helped out in Hawkins High, with a running car it was easier for him to pick up robin and bundle Dustin, Will and Mike in the back of along with all the supplies, it was a squeeze, but not a long drive and with everything that had happened, the kids didn’t mind being on top of each other, breathing, alive. In truth, Steve didn’t want to get out of bed either. His temples ached, his bones felt heavy and the wounds he had were still throbbing, not letting him forget about the events.

He sighed and flopped onto the sofa, leaning his head back hoping to get the knots out of the muscles in his neck, tension. He didn’t want to disturb you in the shower, even though all he wanted to do was bury his face in your hair, your skin, breathe in the only place he felt safe, the only thing that made sense to him. Seeing everyone at Hawkins High, the missing persons post filled with faces he knew, faces he didn’t, the heartbreak of all of Hawkins. All he wanted was you, but instead he just sat there.

You pressed your head against the cool tiles in the bathroom as you turned off the shower, the familiar car engine shutting off in the drive, you knew Steve was back, yet you didn’t think you could see him face to face yet. You breathed out heavily and stepped out of the shower pulling a towel from the back of the door, wrapping it around yourself and another for your hair. Red staining the white cotton as you’d opened old wounds as well as your still bleeding palms that stung. You bent down to get the first aid kit from under the sink as you got to work on your wounds. You at least looked cleaner, your split lip and eyebrow not looking as bad now you’d washed, half of these injuries you didn’t even know when you’d got them, from fighting demobats to being thrown across the floor by Eddie when you tried to help, bruises from being pulled away from your friend as his lifeless body lay motionless, wounds from yourself from hitting the wall in desperation. You looked how you felt. Completely broken. You wrapped bandages around your hands and left it at that. Drying off and throwing oversized clothes on, you reached for the door handle, your hand visibly shaking.

Going back into your room you sighed at the mess. Somewhat thankful that Steve had stayed downstairs. Glass and blood everywhere. You grabbed a dustpan and a brush from a small closet next to the bathroom as well as the small towel you used for your hair, sweeping up the small shards of glass and discarding them in a small bin next to your bed. Wiping the claret up with the small towel and putting that in the bin too. You sat on the end of your bed once again staring at the pictures behind your vanity desk.

“Y/N?” Steve called up the stairs noting that the shower had been turned off for a while, worry lacing his voice. You could hear it.

“Yeah, I’m coming down.” You stood up and dragged yourself to the top of the landing. You could just throw yourself down the stairs and hope for the best. Hope you’d have an ounce of peace from your racing mind, but you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t bring yourself to take yourself over that edge, to make the people that cared about you lose another. You’d all lost too much. Begrudgingly you walked down the stairs, the illuminating light from the sun almost blinding you, you’d been living in darkness for the past few days, being in the Upside Down and then closing all the curtains upstairs as soon as you’d got back home. You’d almost forgotten how bright daylight could be.

Steve was waiting in the kitchen for you, his eyes visibly glowing when you walked into the room, as though you lit up the small space when you stepped in. A smile tugged on your lips that suddenly dropped when you remembered he was looking at Nancy exactly the same not too long ago. The same nagging thoughts you had earlier pulling you back. Knock off version of Nancy. Now that Johnathan was back, of course he came running back to you. Steve looked down to your hands and frowned, he didn’t remember you hurting your hands so much they needed bandaging,

“Sweetheart? What happened?” Steve was by your side in an instant his hands gently over yours as he inspects the bandages,

“I dropped some glass, not a big deal. Just got a little cut up in the process of cleaning it up.” You lied through your teeth, you couldn’t be bothered to talk about Eddie again and how you’d broken the last gift he would ever give to you out of anger. Steve continued to look at your hands, careful not to disturb the bandages around them,

“Do you want me to have a look? I can bandage these a bit better for you, make sure there’s no glass and...” you cut him off with a, ‘I’m fine.’ And pulled your hands away from his warmth, Steve looked a little deflated, but understood. All of you had patched each other up countless times that it was almost routine now, you’d learnt how to stitch wounds, what ointments and antiseptics to use, you basically had a mini pharmacy under your sink for things that people would never believe.

“Honestly, I’m fine Steve.” You forced a smile and went round the Kitchen Island feeling his eyes burning through you. Your house wasn’t the biggest, it was snug. The kitchen was weirdly one of the bigger rooms and probably the nicest, it was one of the only rooms your mum put any effort into before she started gallivanting around the globe. It was bright with several flowers littering the windowsills, yellow lace curtains to match some of the décor. How the flowers hadn’t died yet, you didn’t know. You never watered them.

You and the rest of the group had spent ample time in this kitchen cooking cookies and brownies for movie night, Max and Lucas always managing to burn popcorn, Steve rushing to open windows and flail a tea towel at the fire alarm to stop it beeping whilst Robin was toppling over laughing at Dustin with brownie mix all over his mouth, You’d also spent ample time in here with the older lot of the group, your mum had quite the alcohol stash. Probably enough to open a bar downtown. From several different bottles of vodka, gin, whiskey to wine, beer, cider and god knows what other potent liquid that did the job, which is exactly what you were heading for now.

Steve was slumped against one of the dining chairs as he watched you move around the island, he knew exactly what cabinet you were riffling through, “Ahhh, there it is.” You picked out an unopened bottle of vodka and put it on the side as you went through a different cupboard to pick out a decent glass.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Steve sighed as he watched your every move, “I know things aren’t great at the minute, but we really need to pull together.” You opened the vodka and poured a small glass, turning around and leaning against the counter with your ankles crossed, the glass of vodka in your hand. You shrugged and took a gulp, the burning from the alcohol igniting your insides.

“Look, sweetheart, please.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, the lack of product evident, no one ever saw Steve walking around with no product in his hair, probably because without it, it was so fluffy and never sat in the right place according to him, “this isn’t the answer, that isn’t going to help. It’s not going to bring...”

“Shut up!” you screeched, smashing the glass back onto the counter, thankfully not breaking it, “you think I don’t know that, Steve? For goodness sake! How stupid do you think I am?!” Steve is taken aback, he’s over stepped a line and he knows it, “I know it’s not going to bring Eddie back it’s not going to stop what’s going on here,” you look around the room, “it’s not going to stop Max from being in hospital, it’s not going to stop those poor kids dreaming about what happened over and over again, how fucked they’re going to be in years’ time if they even make it that far, from losing countless people and battling these things over and over again, but maybe, just maybe it will stop my racing thoughts, the hurt, the anger, the resentment I have for this stupid fucking town for five goddamn minutes, okay?! everything is falling apart at the seams, we’ve all lost so much, I even thought you were getting cosy with Nancy again!” you bite your tongue getting caught up in the rift, Steve looked towards you bewildered. You turn back to the vodka bottle, filling your glass halfway, drinking it down like water and filling it up again, “I’m not asking you to understand Steve, I’m not even asking you to deal with this, you know where the fucking door is.”

Steve stood up from the table and walked over to you slowly, turning you to face him, moving the hair that had fallen so effortlessly over your features, “I love you Y/N, whatever you thought you saw between me and Nancy was not that. I’m happy for her and Johnathan, really. I’m so glad were now with the right people, the people who ground us and make this stupid crazy life worth living, you’re my muse. I would never do that to you, sweetheart. Not ever,” moving his hands over your covered arms, to your hands, holding them gently in his, “I’m not going anywhere Y/N, just please, I don’t want to lose you too. I can’t.”

You looked Steve dead in the eyes, his glassed over, tears threatening to fall. The beautiful honey eyes you’d got lost in time and time again, “Maybe you already have.” His hands let go of yours as he visibly slumped, and took a step back, you might as well have been holding a gun, a bullet to his chest with the way he was looking at you. Turning your back to him, your own tears threatening to fall, you grabbed the bottle again unscrewing the cap, pouring yourself another glass.

“What do you mean?” Steve is silent again, his presence still behind you, feelings of uncertainty heavy in the air, “Y/N, look at me please...” the defeat in his voice made you feel awful, this was your boyfriend of two years, the person that had stayed by your side that whole time, through everything. The good times and the bad, the way you both laughed, the random dates he took you on, sometimes even after work, some of which ended up being group outings as one of the kids had seen you both and then got on the walkie talkies as quickly as possible, they ended up calling that ‘code blue’ as the first time it happened Steve was in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, the movie nights, the late night talks, walks, your safety net, the countless jokes that weren’t even funny. Helping him with his hair, the days he was sick and you’d take care of him, and the days he would do exactly the same back for you. He never faltered, he was always brave, always stayed strong for you, for everyone, but here he was, seconds away from breaking down. A painful ache in his voice that cut you in half, the same ache breaking the last pieces of your heart that were still intact, you wiped your tears away with the back of your sweater, turning around to see Steve once more, pain drowning his features,

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t do this anymore.” he sucked in a shaky breath as a sob broke from his lips. Pain. Pain that you had caused. You finished your glass of vodka, keeping your back to Steve, you couldn’t watch him break, you couldn’t see the sadness and heartache on his face. As if he hadn’t been through enough recently,

“Y/N, please,” his voice was low, strained, as though he was bleeding out on the spot behind you, “don’t do this, we can get through this, we can get through anything, please just don’t...” you turned round to Steve his eyes visibly blood shot probably from tiredness and the tears that were free flowing down his cheeks,

“I’m sorry Steve.” You walked past him, a slight sway to your walk from too much alcohol in a short space of time on an empty stomach as you tackled the stairs, all you wanted to do was sleep, before you even got half way up the stairs you heard the front door close causing you to stop on the spot, your own sobs now tearing way through your body, this pain was tearing you apart, so much loss, but you had caused this last one.

You found yourself sitting on the end of your bed looking at the pictures behind your desk once again, would you ever feel that kind of happiness again or was this the new norm? A burning hole in the middle of your chest that was once whole and pushed together in the shape of the people you loved. All of those memories seemed like a lifetime ago, how time and life could be fleeting, oh how you took it all for granted.

***

Two weeks had passed.

Two long weeks.

Probably the longest two weeks of your life.

In those two weeks you’d had almost everyone knock on your door, mainly Robin and Dustin, “Y/N, open this door right now or I promise you I’ll put a brick through your window and climb in there myself.” Dustin shouted as he looked through the small glass patterns on the front door for signs of movement, “I’m not joking Y/N.” Dustin looked around your drive and picked up half a brick, “ten seconds, Y/N!” finally he saw movement and put the brick down on the grass, you opened the door and huffed,

“Dustin, every day for two weeks, ae you not bored yet?” He pushed you aside gently and kicked his shoes off before throwing himself onto the sofa and turning on the small TV as if he lived there, “and how can I be of assistance today?” you stood in the doorway of the living room, you no longer had the bandages on your hands, the cuts on your hands were hardly visible now, your other physical injuries were also doing much better, some might not even scar, not that you cared about a bit of scarring,

“You look like shit,” Dustin looked back at you and scoffed, he wasn’t wrong, you’d been wearing the same kind of clothes for two weeks, anything you could get your hands on. Mix matched sweats and sweaters, sometimes Steve’s t-shirts, on a very rare occasion you treated yourself by wearing a pair of jeans. Your usual full of life hair was lifeless and scraggly from the lack of brushing, your eyes blood shot from lack of sleep, red lips from gnawing at them constantly,

“Well, love you too, Dustin,” you rolled your eyes and went to the kitchen fetching juice and cookies on a tray, “so what is it today?” Dustin cleared his throat and made his way into the kitchen, taking a few cookies off the tray as he took a seat around the table drinking juice you’d bought specially for him,

“It’s Steve,” your breathing hitched as you looked to the floor, biting at your already raw lips, you pulled a second chair out and sat opposite Dustin, taking your own cookie and nibbling at it. You hadn’t eaten well for two weeks now,

“What about him?” you took a swig of your own juice and sit looking towards your younger friend,

“Don’t give me that, Y/N. I know you still care, Robin tells me things, y’know, and you’re not someone that doesn’t care about people,” Dustin shook his head, “this act is bullshit, Y/N. Steve is over there wondering what he did wrong, what he can do to help you, he’s broken, Y/N and none of us can get through to him, ne needs you and you need him and we need you both. We need our kick ass non babysitters back. We need to stick together. We can’t all break otherwise what do we have?” you bit the inside of your cheek letting Dustin talk, you had been unfair, everything in this world was so wrong and you were breaking the only good thing in it,

“I’m scared, Dusty,” you looked to him and he nodded, not wasting time to eat more cookies, all the kids loved your cookies,

“We all are, Y/N. you know this isn’t over right?” you looked down knowingly and started to play with the patterned table cover, “Steve needs you, I need you, we all need you. You know Eddie wouldn’t want this right?” you breathed deeply at the mention of his name, “you’re the bravest person he knew, he told me, and do you know what else?” you looked up from the table, “he loved you and Steve together, he saw how happy he made you and that’s what he wanted for you. He wanted you to be happy.” You sighed, breath shaky as a tear fell from your lashes onto the tablecloth you were playing with moments before,

“Well he got one thing wrong, he was the bravest.” Dustin put his hand over yours and gave it a light squeeze,

“Please just come and see Steve? Everyone is round there trying to cheer him up and he looks just as shit as you, if not more. If you don’t come with me, the others are going to try one by one, I’m the nicer one.” He stood up from the table, hopeful,

“Dustin I can’t,” disappointment clouded his eyes, “I can’t go over there empty handed, help me make some cookies?” the usual toothy grin from Dustin was back, one you hadn’t seen for a such a long time, one that made your heart swell. You loved those kids so much and you’d do anything to protect them, you felt bad for wallowing in in your own self-pity when everyone you cared about was going through the exact same thing as you. You’d nearly lost the one thing that made sense and you were going to try and not let that slip any further. You and Dustin got to work on the cookies, not failing to get flour all over the surface and yourselves. Once the cookies were in the oven and cooking, you looked over to Dustin, “Keep an eye on the cookies for me? I’m going to try and sort this out a bit,” you pointed to your mop of a hair as he grinned and nodded, picking up his walkie as you left the room,

“Guys, it’s Dustin, over.” He waited for the usual static of the walkie patiently as he pressed more buttons hoping to hear from the others,

“Hearing you loud and clear, Dustin, what’s the status, over.” Mike was on the other end, uncertainty in his voice, but hugged by hope, Will, El and even Lucas in the background hugging over the other walkie talkie hoping for a shred of good news. Max was still in hospital, though in good hands. There was hope that she’d still wake up, she was strong and a fighter. Lucas sat by her bedside every chance he got, but he too needed fresh air sometimes, to see his friends. Being cooped up waiting for someone to wake up wouldn’t do anyone any good if it was constant. Same four walls day in, day out. It took some time for him to realise that however.

“Guys, we have ourselves a code blue. Over.” Dustin chimed excitedly as the rest of the youngsters screamed in joy, they were out of ear shot from Steve and Robin, all around the pool as it was such a lovely day in Hawkins, warm with a light breeze hitting the trees and pool every now and then causing small ripples, birds still chirping. Even amidst all the uncertainty and heartache, life could be beautiful.

You looked into the mirror having put a little bit of makeup on, an extreme rarity for you with everything that had gone on the past few years, you’d finally put a brush through your washed hair and changed into something more you, high waisted jeans, a black t-shirt and a light denim jacket you could take off if you wanted, you felt the warmth through the bathroom window as you looked at yourself in the mirror once more, “presentable.” You could smell cookies downstairs signalling Dustin had kept to his word and kept an eye on then, not letting them burn. You hurried down the stairs with a skip to your step and twirled to Dustin who was standing in the hall with a cookie jar in hand, ready to pack them once they’d cooled a little,

“There’s the Y/N I know! Yes!” Dustin fist bumped the air with his free hand wishing the cookies would cool down faster. You gathered your shoes and a small bag to put your keys and anything else you needed in,

“what if he doesn’t want to see me?,” you stopped in your tracks, looking at Dustin unsure, “what if I’ve hurt him too much and he never wants to see me again?” you play with the hem of your denim jacket, backtracking, wondering if this was a good idea after all,

“you’re the only person he wants to see, Y/N. we just invite ourselves in and he’s too nice to tell us to get out,” you shake your head,

“You know that isn’t true, he loves you guys as much as I do, even if he’s in the worst mood possible, he’d always rather have you guys around, you know that,” Dustin nodded, putting the cooler cookies into the jar sealing them tightly, “did you bike over here?” you questioned as Dustin shook his head,

“I didn’t,” he grinned and dug his hand in his back pocket, pulling Steve’s car keys out and waving them in your face, “he doesn’t know, obviously,” Dustin shrugged as you shook your head and put your head in your hand laughing in disbelief, a real laugh, something you forgot you could do,

“Dustin! You could have caused an accident!” you tried to sound serious over your laughing that just wouldn’t stop,

“well, you don’t see many cars on the road these days after what happened, maybe people are too scared,” he shrugged once more, “not me, now. Let’s gooooo!” Dustin ran for the front door, cookies in hand, and his small backpack you didn’t realise he had draped over a shoulder,

“Ahhh. Not so fast, keys!” you extended your hand to Dustin, Steve absolutely loved that car, sometimes you wondered if he loved that car more than you and okay, Dustin got there safely, but now he was in your care he wouldn’t be driving that thing,

“Spoil sport,” he ginned as he handed you the keys stepping out into the outside. You took a deep breath. The smell of the outside you hadn’t seen in weeks. The light breeze through your hair the sun tingling against your skin, butterflies and birds, nature. Things you hasn’t stopped to look at for such a long time, “earth to Y/N,” you shook your head and walked towards the car, opening it for you both.

 You hadn’t driven in forever, was it something you could forget? Fastening your seatbelt, making sure Dustin did the same, starting the car and opening the windows, you pulled the sun visor down, a small Polaroid falling onto your lap. You turned it around to see a picture of you and Steve, your heart beating against your chest as you ran your finger over the photo. It was the first one you took together, before you were even official. Halloween 1984. That stupid party, the night Steve and Nancy broke up. You found Steve crying on the back step, you spent the rest of the night trying to cheer him up. One too many beers, weed and a stupid camera, “he kept it...” Dustin looked up at you as you put the photo in the dashboard opposite Dustin,

“Of course he did, he keeps everything,” you didn’t know that, you didn’t say anything further as you pulled off the drive, it wasn’t a long drive. It was actually an easy enough walk, you didn’t live far from Steve. The nights he would randomly turn up at your house and throw pebbles at the window even though no one else was in the house, small memories making you smile.

The drive was quiet, Dustin looking out the window the whole way there, your heart still hammering against your chest, would people be happy to see you, would they hate you, would things be the same, what the fuck were you going to say to Steve? Pulling onto his drive, things got too real, you heard laughter from the other younger people of the group outside as you locked up the car, Dustin rushing to the back gate with cookies, though before he could you were tackled by El, Mike, Will and Lucas, “Y/N OH MY GOD YOU’RE HERE!” mike exclaimed as you laughed with the kids, some of them sopping wet from the pool, of course they still loved you, “we all missed you so much, it’s so good to see you” you ruffled everyone’s hair, something you always used to do when they were younger, something you still hadn’t stopped, tears in your eyes, you smiled, for once they weren’t sad tears,

“I’ve missed you all so much, I’m sorry I haven’t been around, I’m sorry I haven’t been stronger for you all.” They all hugged you tighter, understanding, when did they all grow up?

“we all understand,” Lucas looks at you empathetically, “Max would want us all together, so would Eddie,” you hugged them all just that little bit tighter as they lead you into the back gate, not much had changed in Steve’s back yard except the grass was unkempt, the pool still clean somehow, “we will let you talk to Steve now,” you took a deep breath and looked towards the back sliding doors Robin leaning against them smiling as she ran out to hug you,

“Oh praise the heavens you’re here, I cannot deal with him in there for one minute longer,” you looked towards robin apologetically and she shook her head, “none of that, Y/N. Go see him, bring our Steve back, yeah?” she smiled and sat next to the kids, stealing one of the cookies you made.

You made your way into the house, the house that had so many different memories, you kicked your shoes off and put them where you always do before poking your head into the living room, Steve’s back was towards you as he was staring at the TV something you guessed he’d been doing for the past couple weeks, a lot like you really. His hair was too dishevelled and free of product, but oh fuck did he look like home. “If you’re there to try get me outside in the pool again, Robin I swear to fuck I will change the locks on this house.” He signed defeated and tuned round, his pupils dilating, shock on his face, the evident bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, “Y/N?” he scrambled off the sofa as fast as he could, scared you were a figment of his imagination, “is... is it really you? You’re here...” he stood opposite, reaching out to you,

“Steve...” tears welled in your eyes, “I am so, so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you, I didn’t want what I said, I was so lost in my own mind,” he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, “please forgive me, I’m so sorry,” you pulled away to look at him, tears in his own eyes as he brushed your free falling ones away with his thumb, “I love you so much, I was so scared of losing you too that I fucked up and lost you anyway,” he pulled you back into him, the smell of cedar, bergamot and a slight hint of cigarette smoke, home.

“You didn’t lose me, sweetheart. I love you, more than anything,” he pulled you into him, lips crashing together, cola Popsicle and a small hint of your home cooked cookies that Dustin must have been bringing to him secretly. Everyone loved your cookies. He pulled away and smashed his lips against yours again over and over, the taste of salt now from both of your tears, small lazy kisses planted all over your mouth as he pulled away, your lips slightly swollen, his honey eyes full of life once more, he was never going to let you go. He pulled you flush with his body, your head resting against his chest, as he ran his fingers through your hair, “you’re my home, Y/N. Wherever you are. That’s home to me. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, okay?” you kissed him again, your cherry chapstick smearing over both of your mouths,

“you’re my home too, Mr. Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington,” you looked up to him, a smile on your face, no longer crying as you knocked your hip with his. The emptiness in your heart glazing over a little, the pieces of your broken heart slowly reconnecting, the feeling of life, love, family.

“Have you seen my hair right now?” he ran a hair though it, washed, but lifeless. “Give me a minute, yeah? Put a movie on.” He kissed you softly before sprinting out of the room. You sat on the sofa you’d sat on countless times as you went through old rentals that would probably never be returned as the video store was one of the places to be destroyed, you placed a VHS in the TV as Steve bounded down the stairs, his hair no longer lifeless and messy, but perfect. Your smile so big your jaw could dislocate, “better? The hair is back,” he grinned and jumped over you on the sofa, “Return of the Jedi? One of my favourites.” He pulled your legs over his lap, both of you draped over the sofa like nothing had changed, his hands caressing your knee, smiles not leaving either of your faces.

“GUYS, CODE BLUEEEE.” Dustin shouted from behind the sofa as everyone else bundled in, “and look at that, Farrah Fawcett spray,” Dustin grinned,

“That’s top secret, dude!” Steve shook his head, a genuine laugh falling from his mouth as everyone pulled blankets and cushions around themselves, your cookies in hand. A good old fashioned movie night, things were going to be okay, you looked over to Steve, his eyes glistening as he squeezed your leg. The people you chose as family, Robin in the corner of the room beaming for the both of you. Both of her best friends back together, where they belong. There was a long road ahead for all of you, but at least you’d always face these things together. You were all so much stronger together. A team. A family.

#steve harrington #steveharrington/reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington angst #steveharringtonxreader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you

[abibliophobiaa]

beyond;

It was simple enough: get married, satisfy a will, and cover a debt.

The rules were foolproof: don't fall in love.

Then why is everything so complicated?

Modern Day!Rich!Fake Husband!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader.

collage || ao3 || playlist — 1-13 are in order and the chapter titles, the rest are vibes.

Chapter List:

one: she might be it

two: i think i wanna marry you

three: marry me, today and every day

four: all by myself

five: somewhere in the crowd there’s you

six: would i lie to you, baby?

seven: better together

eight: you’re the best part

nine: our bodies unfurl like smoke

ten: can’t take my eyes off of you

eleven: the end of all the endings

twelve: without you, i’m just a fraction

epilogue: love was made for me and you

blurb:

a scene from dinner (18+, minors dni)

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington modern au