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#king steve
arstyrannus · 2 years
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A banished prince and a king with no crown - what a pair.
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maroon-cardigan · 5 months
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the slut, the prince, the freak | steddie x fem!reader
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♡... got lovestruck went straight to my head
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got lovesick all over my bed...♡
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summary: eddie munson always thought he was invisible. with a cigarette in his mouth, he observed the world of hawkin’s high school from his usual parking spot outside. he was there when you and steve broke up and he started dating nancy wheeler while you played with the heart of almost every popular boy in the school. he was there when the rumours of your reputation turned cruel and steve lost his crown. and he was there when you started secretly fucking your ex-boyfriend in the boys’ toilets during lunch break.
word count: 10.5k
popular!fem!reader x king steve x loser!eddie | exes with benefits (reader x steve) | no use of y/n | no upside down | no mentions of specific race, hair type of body type
warnings: this blog and the content i write are +18, minors do NOT interact. NSFW. a bit of angst at the beginning. mentions of blood, bullying & slut shaming. voyeurism, fingering, finger licking, oral (m & f receiving) p in v, use of the word daddy, use of good girl, threesome, anal play, double penetration, unprotected sex, overstimulation.
author’s note: hello ♡ im not usually a steddie girl but i’ve been thinking about this idea for months !!! kinda inspired on miss americana & the heartbreak prince and slut! by taylor. loosely edited so pls be kind if you find any typos. it started being very smutty but it somehow turned out kinda fluffy too because you know i loooove a throuple and steddie is very sweet in this. enjoy x
masterlist
[dividers by @cafekitsune]
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You were too young when Steve Harrington became your boyfriend. It was destined, your parents said, when they first found out you were dating. You were both sixteen, clumsy and unexperienced, and while he wanted to make his parents proud, you enjoyed the fact that dating King Steve made you popular.
But after two years together, your realised that there was something missing between you two. Steve was sweet for sure; he was nice to you, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t like him.
One day, as you were taking your books out of your locker, you saw him leaning on the wall talking to Nancy Wheeler. She looked at him from under her lashes, cheeks rosy and smile shy while Steve looked back at her with that flirty stare that once drove you crazy, and you just knew.
The next Friday you were in his car after dinner with his parents and you looked at him from the passenger seat, no pain in your heart, just knowing that whatever had bloomed between you two had run its course.
‘I think you should ask her out.’ You said then, eyes fixed on the windshield. Steve’s stare was overflowing with confusion at your words.
You had been his first everything. Neighbours since you moved to Hawkins when you were nine, best friends since the first day as the new girl at school, first kiss, first girl he slept with, first love.
‘What?’
You tried to read his eyes, knowing him so well, but that night his pupils seemed to be hiding something behind them. The sudden distance between you and the boy you knew like the palm of your hand made you feel insecure.
‘Nancy. She’s pretty. I think you should give it a shot.’
Steve’s eyes turned soft at your words. You weren’t angry, there was no sign of jealousy on your tone, and that was enough for him to know.
You gave him a sad smile and leaned in to kiss his warm cheek, your coconut perfume that stuck to his body like a second skin filling his lungs. The cold yet familiar texture of your lips lingered on his cheek after you stepped out of his car and walked back to your place.
Rumours flew around the school and though you and Steve smiled at each other in the hallways, it was obvious that you were no longer the It couple of Hawkins. A few weeks after that, guys from the sports team started to ask you out and Steve was seen making out with Nancy after classes.
It was weird the first months, but after a while you had to make peace with the image of them walking around the school holding hands, and you started going out on dates again.
But you got bored quickly. It was the same every couple of months, a cute guy from the football team would ask you out, you’d go on a date, make out or if you were in the mood, have sex and when they started showing feelings for you, you ended it.
You weren’t sad or disappointed, it was just boredom. Some of them took it nicely, others… not so much. But what if they called you a slut in the hallways? You were still pretty and inaccessible to most. You were having fun.
And Steve, well, he had heard of your reputation, but if he saw anyone talking shit about you, he was always quick on telling them to shut up. He knew he’d always be protective of you, waving from his bedroom’s window when you played with your dog in the backyard every evening, and closing his curtains when he saw you kissing some guy in your bedroom on weekends, sometimes staying in rather than going out as he meant to, just in case. In case something happened. In case you needed him. In case you called.
But that never happened.
There was another person in the school that was willing to defend you from the rumours, but you didn’t even know about his existence until one day outside school, when Jason Carver lost his temper with you.
‘I mean it was nice…’ He overheard you say as you stood in front of Jason. ‘I just don’t really feel we’ve got that much chemistry.’
Eddie Munson was leaning against his car from the other side of the parking lot, hiding his amused expression behind a cigarette. Whenever he saw your pretty face around the school, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Eddie had always admired the confidence with which you talked to boys, dressed in those little skirts and knee socks he loved even if the autumn chill was too cold for them. Internally, he kind of liked how careless about dating you were, using those guys for a few weeks before dumping them. He’d argue you had terrible taste in men, from Harrington to Carver to any other pretty boy in the school, but he knew he would never have a chance with you.
‘What the fuck?’ Jason said, but no muscle from your face moved.
‘Come on, Jason.’ You tried to be kind but God, was he annoying. ‘Don’t be silly, I’m sure there’s a bunch of girls in Hawkins that would kill to be with you.’ He opened his mouth to say something, but you didn’t let him speak. You never let them. ‘Anyways, I’ll see you around.’
‘Wait a fucking minute, you slut.’ You didn’t even have time to blink when his hand grabbed your arm so tightly it hurt. Eddie observed how you frowned in pain at Jason’s grasp. ‘You don’t get to break up with me.’
‘We’re not even dating, asshole.’ You said trying to get out of his grip. ‘Let me go.’ But the pressure on your arm became even stronger and more painful. ‘Seriously, Jason. Let go!’
Eddie didn’t wait for it to escalate when his fist hit Jason’s jaw and the boy’s hand finally let your arm go. ‘She told you to leave her the fuck alone.’
But Jason was not going to let someone like Eddie Munson walk away just like that. His fist hit Eddie’s nose, and you took your hands to your face when he fell on the ground with a loud noise. Jason kept hitting him even when you screamed at him to leave the boy alone, trying to push him away from Eddie while a bunch of students surrounded you.
It wasn’t pretty. By the time they were separated, Eddie’s face was full of blood and Jason only seemed to have a small bruise on his cheek.
‘Hey!’ You called as the guy that defended you walked back inside the school. But Eddie felt too humiliated to talk to you, and all his bravery had been replaced by a deep sense of shame.
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Steve didn’t think he’d find such a scene in front of him when he was about to walk out of the toilet. Eddie The Freak Munson walked inside the toilet with a bloody swollen face. Standing on his place as Eddie opened the sink, he observed the way the boy features clenched in pain when he took his hands to his face.
‘Do you need anything, Harrington?’
‘That just… that looks pretty bad. Should I call the nurse?’
But Eddie only laughed bitterly, not really used to anyone caring too much about him. He had always been invisible in front of people like you or Steve.
‘I’ll be alright.’ He said indifferently, and Steve nodded hesitantly, eyes lingering on the ringed bloody knuckles for a couple of seconds before leaving.
Steve didn’t think too much about it until he heard why Munson had been hit. The rumours said Jason Carver almost hurt you and The Freak had intervened at the right moment, but you felt weird talking about it, so you didn’t answer anyone’s questions as the bruise on your arm started to go from red to purple.
You searched for Eddie the following day at school but didn’t see him. His car was missing in the parking lot and when you tried to drive to his place to thank him, his uncle told you he wasn’t in, even if you heard the clear sound of a guitar being played behind the man on the threshold. So, you got the message.
Next Friday, you found yourself drinking and looking at Steve and Nancy from the other side of the party. Steve made eye contact with you as he danced with his girlfriend, and you gave him a sweet smile that he returned. It would never be strange for you to see him with someone else, but at the same time, you told yourself you weren’t really jealous.
But maybe Nancy Wheeler was.
‘Why do you keep looking at her?’ She asked. They were in the toilet after Steve had accidentally thrown his drink on her.
‘What? Who?’ His hands were a bit shaky at the anger behind Nancy’s eyes as he offered her some tissues to clean her clothes.
‘Who?’ She mocked, ‘Your ex-girlfriend, it’s like you’re obsessed with her or something.’
‘I’m not–’
Just then, the toilet’s door opened. Their eyes lift up to find you face, blood rushing to your cheeks quickly at the sight of your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend.
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ You said, to what Nancy rolled her eyes.
Steve saw the way you looked at her confused. He opened his mouth to apologize for his drunk girlfriend when his eyes caught the purple bruise on your arm, quickly looking back at you. You knew those eyes so well, he was worried. A question in his pupils as his mouth opened slightly. But you turned shy then, embarrassed by the bruise and by your drunkenness, feeling like you had somehow disappointed him.
‘Hey–’ He started, but you closed the toilet’s door quickly before walking towards the living room to tell your ride you wanted to go home. You shouldn’t have come to that stupid party anyways.
On Monday, everyone knew that Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler were no longer together. You started wearing long sleeved sweaters on top of your usual cute tops with the excuse of the low temperatures, but you were just covering the bruise that had made you feel so humiliated when you last saw Steve.
Eddie thought he was probably the only one that noticed you were wilting after what happened with Jason. He started to be more careful after the fight too, face still purple and swollen by the bruises that cost him the stares of people who called him a weirdo in the hallways. So, he decided to start eating his lunch in the school’s toilets rather than in the cafeteria.
But he still observed you in between classes, when you were distracted taking your books from your locker, keeping your eyes low. When you started to turn down the dates the popular boys invited you to, punishing yourself for what you thought you had caused. Eddie saw the way you hid your pretty eyes from Steve, who often stared the back of your neck during class or in the hallway, and with narrowed eyes he silently noticed Harrington’s face full of confusion and sadness as you ignored him in the parking lot.
Steve would lift his eyes to find Munson’s gaze on him, not breaking the eye contact as his ringed, scarred hands reached for a cigarette in his pocket. His cheeks would turn hotter at the piercing look in Eddie’s pupils, as if he had been caught doing something stupid, or as if he knew something Steve didn’t. All he could do was open the door of his BMW to go home and try to get you off his head as his knuckles wrapped tightly around the wheel.
It all went downhill for Steve after that.
Months later, some rich kids called Eddie to bring some weed over for them at a party, and when he opened the big wooden door of the fancy house, he found Steve’s swollen face on the other side of the door.
The boy ran past him, not even noticing when Eddie stood next to the door and watched him get inside his car. He should’ve done something, he should’ve offered him some help like he had done months ago when he hit Jason, but Eddie was paralysed. He didn’t realise he had been standing outside like an idiot, watching Steve’s car get lost in the distance, until a familiar body walked past him again.
Your coconut perfume made him take a step back into the shadows of the night. You were standing on the street now, your bare back exposed by a nice little dress, trying to see through the darkness. But Steve was gone. The night’s cold air made you shiver, and Eddie decided to walk inside the house before he could do something stupid, like talk to you.
When Eddie walked in, he looked around, trying to find any of the people he had spoken to on the phone earlier. He was about to walk into the kitchen when the sight of Billy Hargrove’s bloody knuckles made him walk away in the opposite direction.
You saw Steve’s bruises heal from the distance.
The laughs of Carol Perkins and Tommy Hagan made you lift your eyes sometimes, but Steve no longer hung out with them, the empty space where he belonged once making you frown your eyebrows with curiosity.
Sometimes you stared at the phone next to your bedside table, laying on your bedroom’s floor with your hair wet after a shower and your feet bare against your green rug, thinking about calling him. But you never felt brave enough to deal his number, and you had grown fond of walking your dog around the block instead of playing with him in the back garden of your house. Or that’s what you told yourself.
You thought he and Nancy would eventually come back together, hopeful that it might all have been a misunderstanding and completely unaware of how you had caused the breakup on the first place, but she was now dating Jonathan Byers. He must be feeling lonely, you thought the morning you found the new couple kissing against Jonathan’s car.
Yet you would still look back to your locker when you saw Steve walking down the hallway, a little red scar marking his lower lip, purple bruises around his nose fading. You were dying to talk to him, repressing a sigh as the smell of his familiar woody cologne invaded your lungs when he walked past. But you abandoned the idea, closing your locker’s door a bit too harshly before heading to class.
Didn’t everyone feel utterly miserable in high school, anyways?
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It all changed two weeks after that, when you were on your way to the cafeteria and Billy Hargrove tried to ask you out. You stood next to your locker in shock, lips partly opened but nothing coming out of them. You had turned more introvert after what Jason Carver did to you, and you figured Hargrove would treat you worse than him. You’d seen what he did to Steve, and the way his little sister seemed so tense around him all the time sent shivers through your body. You almost felt your hands shaking next to your sides as you looked back at him, but the fear quickly turned into something else: anger. Why did you have to be so careful around all these assholes?
‘I don’t… I don’t think so, Billy.’ You said before trying to walk past him, but Billy placed his arm on your locker and blocked your way out, making you roll your eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but you pushed his chest with your hand. ‘I said I don’t want to. Leave me the fuck alone.’
‘What? You’re getting picky now after half the school has slept with you?’
And that’s what made you snap.
You kicked him on the shin by reflex, the first thing you brain could come up with. But when he reached for his leg trying to soothe the pain, your rage was too much for you to hold in.
Everyone in the hallway was looking at you when you bent a little to be at the same eye level as him. ‘Listen to me, asshole. I fuck whoever I want to, not the other way around. Maybe you’re not half as hot as you think you are, so if you really want the full thing, you’re gonna have to masturbate until your little dick falls off.’
Your angry words echoed through the walls as Billy’s eyes filled with fury. Under his breath, he was still able to bite back, ‘Who wants to fuck the school’s slut, anyways.’
‘That’s it–’ you said, but as you were about to jump on him, you felt someone’s arms on your waist.
‘Okay, okay. That’s enough.’ Steve said as he walked you backwards, his hand around your waist while you kicked your feet in the air and Billy composed himself. ‘Come on.’
‘Let me go, Steve!’ You screamed as he kept dragging you away from Billy and the rest of the students.
But he didn’t until you were inside the boy’s toilets, your cheeks red with anger and scalp a bit sweaty by the adrenaline.
‘You need to calm down.’
Eddie stood still inside the toilet’s stall when he jumped to the sound of Steve Harrington’s voice. He thought it was weird of him, or anyone, to be in these toilets that he found almost no one in the school used. Until he heard your voice.
‘I don’t fucking want to calm down.’
Eddie stayed silent, trying to look through a little crack on the stall’s door. Steve had both hands on your shoulders while you seemed to be breathing heavily with rage.
‘He could’ve–’ He started.
‘Don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it.’ You removed his hands from your shoulders, screaming at him. You knew it wasn’t Steve’s fault, but you were burning with anger. ‘I’ll fucking fight him, Steve. Hargrove, Carver, all of them. I’m so sick of this shit.’
You let out a sigh, trying to relax, but it was impossible. Eddie smiled at your words; he loved how tough you were despite the fact you seemed like a really soft girl. He repressed a laugh at the sight of Steve standing in front of you with his hands on his hips, trying to figure out what the fuck do with you.
‘I know, I know.’ He said, eyes serious as he looked at you through brown strands of hair that fell on his forehead, ‘But that’s not the solution–’
‘You’re such a hypocrite!’ You clenched your fist on either side of you, ‘You hit Billy–’
‘Yeah, and I fucking lost.’ He interrupted you, his hands were aching to touch you again. Your cheeks red, coconut smell everywhere around him, he was softened by the way your hands got lost inside your oversized sweater. He missed that, he missed that so much, making him suddenly nervous like when he was sixteen. He swallowed before speaking again, trying to keep those thoughts out of his head.
‘I would’ve had to fight him again if he’d touch you and I would’ve lost again.’ His words almost made you smile, stress and anger dissipating and his eyes lighting up at your reaction. ‘Would’ve ended up like Munson when he hit Carver.’
Eddie noticed how you shut your eyes at the sound of his name, tilting your head back and biting your lip. ‘I still feel so fucking guilty about that. I was never able to thank him and now I feel too awkward to do it.’
Eddie held a sigh at your words. A part of him felt kind of flattered, but another was relieved you never spoke to him again. As creepy as it sounded, and as pathetic as he felt for it, he preferred to observe you from afar.
‘I think maybe I should too.’ Said Steve as his eyes got lost on the tiles of the toilet’s floor. You lifted your gaze at his words, but he didn’t feel brave enough to look back at you. ‘I mean, that wouldn’t have happened if I…’
He let the words hang in the air. You turned your gaze to your shoes, arms crossed over your chest as the air turned tense. He took the opportunity to look back at your face and study the subtle changes that had somehow turned you even prettier after your breakup. No wonder you had so many guys after you, the air of confidence you radiated now made you irresistible. But he knew you. They didn’t deserve you.
When you licked your lips, Eddie couldn’t ignore the way Steve’s eyes followed the movement of your mouth.
‘We can be friends.’ You said then, looking up at him.
Steve nodded sightly, but you knew the darkness in those eyes too well. He wasn’t looking at you the way friends looked at each other. Eddie noticed the way your body shifted next to him, looking at Steve from under your lashes and biting your lip unconsciously, unaware of the effect that simple gesture would have in the two boys that were looking at you.
Steve looked down to your shoes when you took a step towards him. God, he was so pretty. You took your time to study the scars that now adorned the skin around his nose and mouth, dying to kiss them.
You remembered that summer night you had sneaked into his bed for the first time two years ago, the way his weight over your body felt so right, the safety and tenderness of it all. You remembered how Steve Harrington fucked: slowly, devotedly, sweetly, sloppy.
Maybe it was the habit that made his hand lift to stroke the little space of skin between your skirt and sweater. His fingers hadn’t forgotten, you were still soft as silk, and your coconut smell that used to perfume his bedsheets brought the same memories of your body beneath his. Mind clouded by images of your open mouth and arched brows as he guided you with the movements of his hips.
There was a time when you trusted him.
‘S that what you want?’ Steve whispered. His eyes met yours then, not trace of shyness in them, but the same endless devotion he so dangerously gave away as if it was nothing.
‘Maybe.’ You pondered in silence as you got closer to him, and your eyes asked for what your mouth didn’t. ‘I mean, I can be a really good friend.’
Steve’s hand found the back of your knee, fingertips following an invisible line from there towards your ass. Eddie couldn’t look away at the sight of your skirt lifting just enough to see the curve of your butt cheek when Steve’s hand found the lace of your thong. You gasped at his touch; this wasn’t boring at all. Not like the sex you were having in the cars of all those guys you had been dating the last few months.
‘Hmm, ‘m sure you can.’ His hand was playing with the lace of your panties now, he held the thin fabric strip before lightly letting it go, hitting your skin just nicely. He knew you liked that. His fingers moved to the fabric in between your legs, finding it damp. A breathy laugh left his lips in disbelief. ‘So wet already?’
Eddie couldn’t help but shut his eyes at Steve’s words. He couldn’t help but imagine what a wet mess your underwear was, the way he’d kill to put his hand under your skirt like Steve was doing right now. You moaned in response, and Eddie opened his eyes to find you looking straight into your ex-boyfriend’s, dark brown taking in the pretty scene in front of him. Eddie had a thing for girls that knew how to keep the eye contact, and you seemed to be fucking fantastic at it.
Your eyebrows met in the middle when Steve opened your legs slightly, with so much confidence behind, like he had never forgotten the little things that made your body melt.
Steve’s eyes stayed on you when he lifted your leg towards him, your knee resting on his hip. ‘What d’you say, sweetheart?’ He whispered, lips brushing yours as he spoke, ‘Just once for old times’ sake?’
‘Fuck, Steve.’ You rolled your eyes at his cockiness. ‘Just touch me.’
He let out another breathy laugh as his fingers dived inside your underwear. Eddie rolled his eyes when the sounds of Steve’s hands getting in and out of your wet cunt echoed through the toilet’s walls. You took three of your fingers to your mouth, trying to hide your moans by sucking on them. Steve placed his forehead on yours as you looked up at him, eyes overflowing with that purity he loved so much.
‘D’you like it, baby?’ He said putting another finger inside of you, ‘Did your pretty pussy miss me?’
It was the way you nodded innocently as your fingers came in and out your mouth what made Eddie unzip his jeans. How many times had you been in his fantasies? Way too many. And now you were here, being fingered in the school’s toilets, your frail body turning into nothing. He couldn’t resist to touch himself, the noise of your choked whimpers making his cock throb.
Eddie started stroking up and down his dick when your hand found Steve’s big erection under his jeans. ‘Wanna fuck me ‘gainst the sink?’ You said then, voice soft but hot, just how you knew Steve liked it. That voice had always made him dumb, and you knew by the way his eyelids had turned heavy and his pupils shiny, that his brain was struggling to process your dirty words as your hand rubbed against his bulge. ‘Can keep the skirt on and you can fuck me from behind, hmm?’
‘Fuck.’ Eddie whispered under his breath. He was trying not to cum so quickly, but you were making it hard for him.
Steve couldn’t resist your offer, unzipping his jeans clumsily while you bent over the sink. You looked behind your shoulder, innocent eyes inviting him as you stood all exposed for him.
Eddie’s clothes were wet with sweat at the look of your ass and your wet pussy ready for Steve, but when Harrington moved his boxers down and his cock fell out hard and big, something inside him betrayed him, trying hard to repress the loud moan that almost got him caught.
‘Shit.’ He whispered then, as Steve positioned himself behind you and the noise of skin against skin filled the toilet. Eddie had to angle himself properly before all his cum fell promptly on the stall’s door, staining the floor too. ‘Shit. Shit. Shit.’
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It didn’t happen just once.
You didn’t know what this meant, and you didn’t care. You and Steve found each other in the school’s toilets at least once a week. In person you were still polite, but it wasn’t like you were dating again.
But it seemed like that’s what made the whole thing so nice. This was different from any other thing you had experienced before. In the time you had spent apart, you and Steve had definitely learned some nice new stuff, but you had never forgotten what could drive each other insane. And through all your encounters, Eddie sat down inside the stalls making sure he kept quiet as he heard your precious moans echoing through the walls.
He had also learned that Steve was very vocal. Growls against your neck, some pretty nice noises when you got on your knees for him… That was Eddie’s favourite sight while he looked through the familiar crack of the same stall’s door: your little mouth taking Harrington’s big cock so well. At times, he closed his eyes while Steve moaned, fantasising about stroking your hair and calling you a good girl while you made out with your ex-boyfriend’s cock.
But things are always bound to change, and one particularly cold day you found yourself getting fucked in the toilets once again. Your back was against the wall, heel on Steve’s shoulder as his dick touched that spot he knew how to find so well.
‘Hmm, you’re desperate for it today, baby.’ He said before thrusting into you, ‘Like it like that?’
‘Uh-uh.’ Your nails were leaving nice half-moon marks on his back as your head hit the wall every time he thrusted himself inside you. ‘Fuck me like that.’
Eddie could notice your hard nipples under your soft top, since you had taken your sweater off earlier. Steve was right, there was something freaky about you today, something that made Eddie even harder for you as the boy in front of you fucked you faster, and faster.
‘Hmm.’ You moved your hips against Steve as he fucked deeper into you. His eyes almost absent because of how good and tight you felt. You loved when he looked at you like that. ‘Shit, daddy, fuck me harder.’
Steve would’ve cum for you right there if it wasn’t for the soft growl that startled you two. You covered yourself with your skirt and he instinctively stood up in front of you, his hand finding yours right after he zipped his jeans and interlacing your fingers together. There was no noise for a second until something caught your eye, a shadow under one of the stalls. There was someone here. You decided to walk past Steve, standing in front of one of the green metal doors.
You placed your ear on it and heard the clear sound of a heavy breath behind. Holding your own breath, you pushed the door lightly, finding no other than Eddie Munson on the other side.
He was holding his face on his hands, cheeks red in embarrassment when you laughed with relief.
‘Fuck, Eddie. You scared the shit out of me.’
He looked up confusedly at you when Steve walked the distance towards the stall. ‘Munson.’ Steve’s cheeks turned rosy at what the situation looked like. ‘Were you…?’ He swallowed hard trying to find the right words.
‘I’m sorry.’ His anxious voice echoed through the walls, and you noticed the subtle shaking of his hands. ‘Shit. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’
‘Hey.’ You walked inside and bent in front of him. His hands were freezing when you held them in yours. ‘I’m not mad. It’s fine. It’s hot stuff, don’t worry.’
Eddie looked up at Steve then, who stood with his hands on his hips. Steve considered the situation for a second and shrugged in resignation. ‘Whatever, man. If she doesn’t care, I don’t care.’
Eddie let out a sigh of relief then, and you gave him a sweet smile. Your shoulders relaxed when the terror dissipated from his eyes, and something inside you turned soft. The idea of him being so scared almost broke your heart.
‘I’ll tell you what,’ You said standing up, a cheeky smile on your beautiful, angelical face as you spoke, ‘I’m feeling quite generous today.’
Eddie thought he was dreaming it all for a second when you walked towards Steve, wrapping your arms around his waist. You were still wearing no underwear, your skirt just short enough for Eddie to look at the soft lines of skin underneath. ‘What do you say, Steve? Should we let Eddie watch?’
Steve looked from you to Eddie, trying to process what you were asking. His dick twitched inside his jeans, still needing the sticky wet walls of your pussy wrapped around it.
‘Babe.’ He said unsure. His hands found your hips by reflex, the soft and warm skin above the hem of your skirt calming his nerves.
‘Steve.’ You said then, face turned serious before you looked behind your shoulder at Eddie, then back at him. ‘Are you really gonna tell me this doesn’t turn you on?’
Steve seemed hesitant. Not because he wished to say no, but because he wanted to say yes so badly it scared him. Something in his eyes made yours turn softer for him as you realised he seemed a bit insecure, heart beating hard against his chest.
‘Hey.’ You cupped his face with your hands and looked into his sweet brown eyes, brows arching when your thumb stroked his cheekbone. You didn’t know what this was anymore, but if you were going to do this, it was going to be with Steve and only Steve. ‘It’s just me. You know I’d never judge you.’
He nodded once and swallowed hard before letting out a deep breath.
‘Still wanna do it?’ You asked once again, to what he nodded more eagerly now, eyelids getting heavy as the heat of his body increased.
You took a step aside then, getting rid of your top, showing off your hard nipples and enjoying the idea of being observed by the two boys. You felt your pussy getting wet once again as your back rested on the cold metal wall of the stall.
Feeling Eddie’s eyes on you, you grabbed Steve’s shirt and pulled him towards you.
‘Now fuck me so Eddie can cum.’
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And just like that, things changed. Now you and Steve met with Eddie at least once a week in the toilets. You enjoyed it too much. Steve would say he was just happy to indulge you, but you also saw the looks exchanged between the two boys when they were about to cum, the way Steve often looked at Eddie to check that he was enjoying it. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your orgasms harder and sweeter.
You found out quickly that Eddie loved to see you sucking cock, and Steve noticed Eddie loved to look at you from the other side of the toilet while he fucked you from behind. And almost in an implicit agreement, you indulged his fantasies too.
Eddie never touched either of you, though. He was just a mere observer on those occasions, and he didn’t feel brave enough to ask for it, scared it might offend you and Steve. He wasn’t sure of how things worked between you two outside the toilet’s boundaries either.
When he smoked his usual cigarette while leaning on his car after school, he noticed that you and Harrington never left together. He saw how Steve still looked at you during class though, the way the pretty brown eyes that often focused on his dick seconds before cumming followed your silhouette in the hallways. How his face turned red whenever you waved at him right after you caught him staring from the other side of the classroom; the tense frown on his face as some guy tried to flirt with you in the parking lot, mediocre speeches leaving their mouths before you simply replied no to their date offers.
Eddie noticed everything. And Eddie knew that Steve had never gotten over you.
You were more difficult to decipher. You seemed to be extra caring of Steve most times, always leaving needy kisses after finishing before you turned back to look at him and ask, ‘You okay, Eddie?’ with your sweet smile, but that’s just who you were. Outside the toilets, you kept being the girl you had always been, comfortable in that careless solitude that made you seem so unreachable.
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Another Friday, another party; and you were considerably drunk, sitting on the kitchen’s counter with some girls from school, joking about the possibility of doing body shots while Steve looked at you from the other side of the room.
You had noticed him earlier, sitting on the couch next to Robin Buckley, but you promised yourself you wouldn’t give it too much thought. At the end of the day, he kept coming back to fuck you in the toilets every week. His pretty eyes lingered on you, that cocky smile that used to fill your stomach with butterflies at sixteen adorning his face, causing you to bite your lower lip as you tried to ignore him.
You looked down to the drink one of the girls offered you, when the familiar silhouette of Eddie walking into the house caught your attention. He seemed kind of lost, looking for someone or something. You knew what Eddie did in this parties, he wasn’t exactly invited, more like called when he was needed. But a part of you somehow wished he would stay tonight.
His dark eyes found yours and you gave him a sweet smile, too sweet, he would argue, bringing back memories of the little meeting you’d had with Harrington the day before.
He had to try hard to keep the image of your body against the sink counter off his head, Steve kneeling in front of you and his pink tongue softly stroking your clit while you moaned nonsense, your beautiful body turning into nothing just for them–
Weren’t you the sweetest secret he’d ever kept?
You noticed he tried to return the smile, but it was just a shy gesture that lifted the edges of his mouth subtly. You followed his body with your eyes as he got lost between the dancing bodies in the living room before realising Steve wasn’t on the couch anymore.
That was it. You stayed on your side of the party, Steve on his, and Eddie doing business like it was supposed to be.
Until your boredom saved your ass for once.
You stepped outside the house with a red cup on your hand, the loud music still bouncing through the walls of the house. It was too cold to be wearing the top and red skirt you had on tonight, but the alcohol made you feel warm, and you felt alone. God, you were always alone. The girls you had been hanging out with hours ago were either puking or getting laid in the rooms upstairs, gone as soon as they found someone else to talk to or a guy to flirt with.
Sometimes being popular felt too much like being pathetic.
You let out a deep sigh and downed the liquid in the cup, feeling the alcohol burning your throat. You cleaned your mouth with your wrist when you noticed the familiar BMW parked a bit further away from the house. Steve, your Steve, was leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest, hair falling on his forehead.
You walked down the front steps and got closer to his car with a smile on your face.
‘Hey.’ You murmured.
‘Hey.’ He said back. Your eyes followed the way his leather jacket hugged his arms so nicely before you turned your head to the night’s darkness. You were trying to hide how cold you were as the wind blew your hair.
‘Had fun tonight?’
He laughed softly at your question. ‘Not really. Just drove Robin here but she left with… uh, someone else.’
You lifted an eyebrow with a flirty smile on your face. Steve couldn’t help but repress a laugh as his eyes got lost beyond your shoulder, anything to avoid the way you were making his body temperature increase.
‘King Steve’s date leaving with someone else? That’s new.’
Steve wanted to tell you it wasn’t at all new, and that he didn’t remember when was the last time he went on a date or the last time someone had called him King Steve.
‘You know that Robin is not my girlfriend, right?’
You lifted your eyes at him, studying his face before taking a step forward.
‘I know.’ You said, the candy gloss on your lips reflecting the lights of the road.
He could see the way your skin was full of goosebumps, but his eyes lingered shamelessly on the red mark he had left on your neck the day before. The sweet melody of your moans mixing with Eddie’s heavy breaths came to his mind.
He opened his mouth to say something, but the reflection of red and blue lights in the distance stopped him.
‘Shit.’ Said Steve. You’d recognise Jim Hopper’s car anywhere.
‘Eddie.’ He looked back at you at the sound of the boy’s name. ‘Shit, Steve. Eddie’s inside selling stuff.’
You were about to move when Steve put his hand on your shoulder. ‘Get in the car. I’ll get Eddie, then we’ll leave.’
You stayed in your place, confusion all over your face as Steve climbed the front steps.
‘Get in the car!’ He said before getting lost inside.
You didn’t waste time and quickly walked around the car to sit on the passenger seat. The red and blue lights were much closer now, music still loud mixing with the laughs of the people inside the house.
You observed how Hopper walked out of his car with other two police officers, your knees were shaking but the cold had nothing to do with it. Your parents were going to kill you if they found out. You sat deeper into the seat when they walked next to Steve’s car, before climbing the front stairs of the house.
You didn’t notice Eddie and Steve sneaking out through the garden gate until the driver’s door opened, making you jump.
‘Let’s go.’ He closed the door quickly as you heard the screams of people and Hopper’s loud voice over the music. ‘Eddie, let’s go.’
But Eddie stood outside the car as people started to run out of the house. He was paralysed at the absurdity of the situation, unable to move until you looked behind your shoulder at him. ‘Eddie, get in!’
He nervously opened the door and sat in the backseat as Steve turned the engine on. You let out a sigh of relief when he started to drive in reverse.
Eddie looked down at the strange looks of the few people realising the three of you were inside Steve’s car, his own sense of shame telling him maybe you wouldn’t want to be associated with the school’s freak.
But all you did was roll your eyes and show them your pretty manicured middle finger through the windshield. You could imagine what the whispers would say about you on Monday, but it was out of your control at this point.
‘Let’s get the fuck out of here.’ Said Steve.
He had been driving in silence for a few minutes. You were warmer now that Steve had turned the heating on. Eddie stood at the back, trying to ignore how the seats of Steve’s car smelled so much like him. Like cinnamon and cedar. Like pretty boy and money.
‘I can’t go home like this.’ You said looking through the window. Eddie frowned at the note of sadness in your voice. ‘If my dad sees me like this, he’s gonna kill me, Steve.’
He noticed how Steve licked his lips and took a worried glance at you before looking back at the road. ‘My parent’s aren’t home. You can stay there tonight.’ Eddie almost jumped when Steve looked at him through the rearview mirror. ‘You okay with that, Munson?’
Eddie looked up at the worried brown eyes on the mirror, piercing and protective in a way he didn’t know Steve Harrington could be.
‘Sure.’
You stepped out of the car as soon as Steve parked in front of his house, making sure to walk in quickly in case your parents were around. But your body visibly relaxed once you were inside the Harrington’s living room, leaning against the wall and closing your eyes to let out a breath of relief. Steve couldn’t help but stare at you, body full of goosebumps as you tried to calm down.
Eddie looked around the spacious house, at the green couch that must’ve costed more money he would ever make in his life, at the elegant lamps that fell from the ceiling, at crystal walls on the other side of the living room. He looked back at Steve, who hadn’t taken his eyes off your profile and was so evidently and pathetically in love with you, and Eddie knew then that he didn’t belong there or anywhere else.
‘I should probably go home.’ He said.
Your eyes opened wide at his words. ‘No.’
Your hand found his quickly, not even giving him a chance for his brain to register the cold touch of your fingers. ‘Eddie, come on.’
He stayed silent for a second, thinking about what words to choose, when Steve spoke.
‘Why?’
‘I…’ But couldn’t bring himself to say it, instead he just shook his head slightly.
The confusion in your eyes made his chest hurt. He looked from you to Steve, but he couldn’t hold the deepness of his stare, he would rather drown in the tenderness of yours.
‘Listen, I–, you two–,’ He couldn’t help but get distracted at the way your fingers stroked his rough hands. ‘You two work really well, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’m doing here.’
‘Hey. Eddie.’ Steve took a step towards him, his shoulder brushing with yours, tone filled with urgency as he searched for the boy’s eyes. ‘Come on.’
Eddie let out an unsure breath before brushing the curls of his head with his free hand. He didn’t know what Steve and you were asking, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. If he was ready to.
It was almost a whisper, the way Steve said it, but it was loud enough for you two to hear it. ‘We came back for you.’
You looked back at him then, vulnerability overflowing from those eyes you had loved since you were sixteen. And you knew. You knew that the something you and Steve were missing was right in front of you.
Your other hand found Steve’s then, making his gaze fall on you, pretty and beautiful under the soft lights of his empty house.
Your movements were slow when you placed Eddie’s hand on your stomach. He had never touched you, so he couldn’t repress the deep breath he let out as you guided his hand upwards, ringed thick fingers touching your ribs over your shirt.
You were still looking into Steve’s eyes when Eddie’s hand reached your chest under your guidance, feeling your nipples getting hard under your bra. He was so warm now, burning against the fabric that covered your boobs.
‘Tell me to stop.’ You told Steve, voice weak as he observed the way your cheeks were turning rosy and your eyes needy. ‘Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.’
He shook his head, a subtle gesture interrupted by his eyes following the trace you drew over your body with the other boy’s hand. You took Eddie’s fingers to the space in between your clavicles, then your neck, then your chin.
‘Jesus Christ.’  Eddie couldn’t help but swear under his breath when you took two of his fingers inside your mouth.
Your saliva was thick and sticky as you took them into your pretty mouth, tongue soft when it came in contact with his fingertips. You closed your eyes and let out a deep breath as you took his fingers in and out of you. Your eyes finally looked back at Eddie when they opened again, and he looked so entranced by you and your damn mouth taking his fingers so well that he knew he was gone.
You couldn’t help but pull him towards you, his body crashing softly and heavy against yours and Steve’s, the sweetest smile on your face as your hand found his cheek. You felt Steve’s arm wrap around your waist, chin sitting on your shoulder and erection hard against your ass while Eddie’s lips brushed yours, hesitating even when your noses rubbed against each other and one of Steve’s hands started to draw an invisible line from your knee to your thigh.
‘Just… just kiss me, Eddie.’ You whispered.
He finally got the courage to close the gap between you two. His lips were needy but tender. You were dying to bite him, to feel him. This wasn’t just sex, and you knew it by the way Eddie’s lips stroked yours slowly and his hands found your face while Steve left sweet pecks on your neck and temple.
‘Take me to the couch.’ You whispered breathily as Eddie’s lips brushed against the skin of your neck.
‘Uh-uh, sweetheart.’ His voice was velvety as he kissed along the curve of your boobs. ‘M not fucking you on some couch.’
You let out a soft laugh at his words. Your hand found the back of Steve’s neck as you looked back at him, he loved the way your eyelids turned heavy as Eddie started to kiss the skin next to your knee.
‘Want to share you.’ You whispered then. Steve’s eyebrows arched at your words, it overwhelmed him, how willing you were to give him everything so devotedly. His eyes almost rolled when Eddie’s hand found the bulge under his pants, and you smiled at him as the curly haired boy observed his reaction from below. ‘Re you gonna let me, Steve? Wanna share you with Eddie.’
Steve’s head was clouded by desire and fear, and his dick was getting harder the more the big hand of Eddie kept rubbing his bulge. His forehead fell on yours, the sigh that left his mouth stroked your lips, as he shut his eyes hard. His breaths heavy in between shaky words, surrendering to what his body wanted, ‘Fuck. Yeah. Yeah, okay.’
His heart was still beating hard against his chest when he sat on the bed. You got rid of your top as soon as you walked inside his room, pushing Steve’s chest lightly towards the bed just like you loved to do when you were younger. Eddie’s hands found your shoulders to push you into Steve’s lap while his lips started to bite your neck, his long curls tickling the skin of your arms.
Steve got rid of your bra when Eddie’s tongue found its way back to your mouth, swallowing the moans you let out as the other boy started sucking on your hard nipples. Your skin filled with goosebumps, Eddie’s cautious hand sneaking into your underwear to feel your pussy so deliciously wet for him. It caught you off guard, the way he seemed to know your body even if it was the first time he touched it, making you moan as two of his fingers massaged the spot he had seen Steve hit with his fingers so many times.
Your mouth opened to let a loud moan out while he still kissed you, making his dick throb as you felt Steve’s hand lifting your skirt to have a better look at the pretty image of Eddie’s fingers getting in and out of you. When the pace of his fingers turned faster you couldn’t help but throw your head back to rest it on his shoulder, breaking the kiss.
Eddie’s hungry eyes turned to Steve then, looking at the way the pretty boy’s cheeks were rosy under his gaze, the leather jacket he was wearing long forgotten on the bedroom’s floor, the tight white t-shirt he wore accentuating his arms nicely. Eddie’s arm still vibrated by the rhythmic movements of his fingers inside you when Steve swallowed hard at what he knew was coming.
You fell on top of his body when Eddie leaned in to kiss him, being nicely crushed by Eddie’s weight and caught in between their bodies, feeling his dick hard against your ass. Always used to being a giver, Steve got overwhelmed by all the attention he was receiving as Eddie’s demanding tongue stroked his and the smell of your hair surrounded him. He felt your lips climbing from his neck to his jaw, the way your tongue played with his earlobe before you bit it sweetly, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you felt his hand squeezing your thigh in response. You could feel his heartbeat, hard and fast under your naked chest, and your own body’s response, the sound of your pulse on your ears. Eddie’s lips started climbing down to Steve’s neck, and you took the opportunity to climb off his lap.
It was a sweet dance of an implied agreement between you and Eddie to make Steve feel good and safe. You sat down behind him to help him get rid of his t-shirt as Eddie left a trail of kisses down his chest and stomach. You kneeled on the bed so Steve’s head could rest on your thighs, pretty eyes looking at you with fear and excitement. You bent to kiss his forehead, his nose, the corner of his mouth while his lips let out shaky breaths that reminded you so much of the fear you both felt the first time you had sex. His shaky hands found yours as you smiled at him from above, and his eyes shut hard when Eddie finally teased the tip of his dick with his lips.
‘Fuck.’ He whispered in your mouth as the curled haired boy started to take his cock deep into his mouth, making sure of getting it sloppy the way you had done all those times he watched from the stalls. Steve ran his fingers through his hair as he looked down to the scene of Eddie taking his big dick into his mouth and feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of his throat. ‘F-fuck, yes.’
Eddie slightly smiled at you from the other side of the bed. You loved how moany Steve could get with blowjobs, whining in agony, turning needy as he let out the sweetest noises. He looked up at you then, brown eyes looking dark and desperate. He let out a breathy laugh before squeezing your thigh with one of his hands. ‘Come sit on my mouth, babe.’
‘Keep the skirt on.’ Eddie’s voice made you lift your eyes. His stare dark now, taking in the beautiful sight of you: nipples hard, mouth shiny and swollen by their kisses.
You nodded slightly, not breaking the eye contact with him as you moved to open your legs and sit comfortably. You made sure to lift the piece of fabric around your hips a little when you finally sat down on Steve’s perfect tongue. You couldn’t help but bite your lip as you kept your eyes on Eddie when he took Steve back into his mouth, rolling your eyes at the sweet sensation of skin against skin.
He loved the way Steve’s tongue rubbed against your sensitive clit, his big lips hungry and pussy drunk for you. How you moved your hips slowly, the way you held one of your boobs and Steve’s hard grip around your thighs as he ate you out, making his arms look veiny and strong. There was not one inch of skin in front of Eddie Munson that he wasn’t dying to taste that night.
‘So sweet, fuck.’ Steve said in between licks, ‘Such a perfect pussy.’
His hips had started moving up and down unconsciously, fucking Eddie’s pretty pink mouth repeatedly. You never thought such a sight would turn you on so much, but there was something about Eddie that was so rough and messy as he took Steve in. A thread of saliva falling from one the sides of his mouth, head moving with violent devotion. God, did you want to be fucked. The thought made your eyebrows arch in desperation as your orgasm started to slowly build up from the bottom of your tummy.
‘I’m gonna c-cu–’
‘No, you’re fucking not.’ Said Steve against your cunt, but he resumed his movements right after.
‘I-I’m going to.’
‘Fuck no, princess.’ Said Eddie then. You lifted your eyes to find him cleaning his mouth with his sleeve. His ringed hands pulled Steve’s thighs, getting him out from under your legs.
You looked flushed and desperate as you waited for them to do something, anything so you could get what you wanted. Eddie got rid of his clothes as Steve shook his jeans off his ankles, before cupping your face and kissing you hard, your sweet taste on his tongue mixing with the remains of your candy gloss. You whined in disappointment as he kept kissing you, begging to be touched.
‘Steve, please.’
‘What?’ He laughed as if he was completely clueless. You didn’t like being teased, always expecting to get what you wanted without working for it. His hands found the cheeks of your ass when you felt Eddie’s body behind you, emanating a warmth that made you feel so small, but so safe and cozy.
His curls were tickling your back when the tip of his dick started stroking your ass hole. ‘Is this okay?’
His voice was raspy but sweet. You let out a shaky breath but your eyes rolled as your pussy got wetter at the possibility of having both boys inside you.
‘God. Yes.’ You head rested against his shoulder as Steve’s mouth left love bites on your neck. ‘Yes, it’s fucking perfect. Steve, t-tell me you’ve got lube.’
‘I do.’ He said, lips brushing against your skin, enjoying how desperate you grew every second you didn’t have a dick inside you. ‘Baby wanna be fucked in the ass, huh?’
‘Steve.’
His face came out of your neck to find your needy, demanding eyes. His pupils were dark, moving to your lips as he spoke. ‘Tell Eddie.’
You frowned at his words as he kneeled in front of you, hands still on your hips, looking down at you and taking in the beautiful image of your curves. ‘Tell Eddie you want him to fuck you in the ass.’
You rolled your eyes half annoyed, half turned on at his authority. The soft stroke of Eddie’s laugh against your cheek made it much worse. Steve sweetly smacked your butt cheek at your lack of words. ‘C’mon. Say it.’
But you took your time, head turning slowly to your side. Your eyes lingered on Eddie’s mouth and then on his eyes for a few seconds before you let out a soft moan. ‘Hmm.’ Your nose stroked his and he almost started searching for your mouth when you whispered against his lips. ‘Want your cock in my ass, baby. Please.’
Eddie let out a sweet laugh, the shyness he showed downstairs had disappeared completely, instead you had found a devotion as overwhelming as Steve’s.
‘You always ask so nicely, don’t you?’ He whispered against your lips.
It took a few minutes of playing with your body to get you to relax. Steve stroked your clit with his fingers while Eddie kept teasing your tiny hole with a finger wet with warm lube. There was no distance between your bodies as your back still rested against Eddie’s and your hand stroked the hairs of Steve’s chest lazily.
‘Thought so much ‘bout this you know,’ Eddie whispered on your ear as his dick teased you once again. You could feel your body ceding as he pushed lightly inside you. You looked up at him with those angelic eyes he’d grown to love the last few months, Steve’s pretty mouth ghosting above your cheekbone as your nails left half moons marks on his arm whenever Eddie pushed deeper.
‘Fuck.’ You moaned. ‘I need you. P-please. I need to feel both of you.’
Steve was done teasing you, too turned on to say no to you. You saw the ways his eyes shut and his mouth opened in pleasure when his dick came in contact with the inner walls of your cunt, feeling Eddie’s hard cock on the other side of your body. A loud growl came out his chest at the overwhelming sensation.
You were gone. All you could feel was how you full you were, how cared for you felt as one of Eddie’s hands grabbed at your hip firmly and he fucked you slowly and deeply, taking his own time.
Steve’s movements were a bit faster, desperate with need as his eyes got lost in your beautiful body, boobs moving rhythmically with the pace of his hips as he went in and out of you.
‘Shit.’ You heard him say as your eyes lingered absently on the tiny drops of sweat adorning his crown. ‘Come here, Munson. Fuck.’
Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand over your shoulder and took two of his fingers into his mouth as his speed inside you increased. Your blurry eyes got lost in his beautiful, flushed face: eyebrows arched in pleasure but eyes dark with desire as he kept fucking you. Eddie couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of Steve’s warm wet tongue before he took the big hand out of his mouth, a thread of saliva hanging in between you two, and guided it towards your centre.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and arch your back at the overstimulation. There was no inch of your skin that wasn’t burning, no curve that wasn’t worshipped, no stare that wasn’t met with overflowing adoration. No part of your body that wasn’t being loved by the two boys.
‘Come on, baby.’ You heard Eddie’s voice in the distance as his hand touched the sensitive nerves of your clit and his dick kept stretching out your ass hole. ‘You can cum now, you can let go. It’s okay.’
You could only reply with moans, high-pitched needy sounds that made them move closer to you, crushing you in between them. Your back against Eddie’s chest, boobs pressed against Steve. Something hot wet your face, you were fucking crying at how good it all felt.
Steve cupped your face with one of his hands then, lost in the way your lips opened slightly, eyes absent and body focused in just feeling. His head found a comfortable place on your neck as your grip on his arm got even tighter and you felt the walls of your cunt and ass contract before your body exploded in pleasure.
‘Fuck, baby.’ Said Steve on your neck. ‘Look at you. Fuck, fuck, fuck.’
Something hot and sticky fell from your thighs. Eddie’s lips left a wet kiss on your shoulder as your convulsions became less intense, you could feel his hard breaths while he kept hugging you from behind. ‘You did so well, princess. So well.’  
You stayed there, crushed in between their bodies for a few minutes, or maybe hours. Eddie was still stroking the skin next to your belly button when you felt the weight of Steve’s body lift. The sound of water running in the distance. Crickets outside or maybe the birds waking up.
‘Let’s go clean you up, babe.’ Said Eddie, leaving a sweet kiss on your temple.
You opened your eyes to find him smiling at you, eyes full of tenderness. A tickling touch made you lift your eyes to the end of the bed, where Steve’s stood up, sweet smile, tired eyes and hair messy while his fingers wrapped around your ankle.
‘Come on, pretty girl. You can take a nap later.’
You let out a silly giggle. This was absurd.
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cherryc1nnam0n · 5 months
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Thinking about big dick!Steve
Thinking about hearing the rumors about the monster he hides under his pants and how numerous girls have not been able to take him whole, always taking only the tip or some inches, someone never really sinking in fully
Being a daredevil yourself, you had started to buy big dildos to prepare yourself for him, if you ever had the chance that is
Until one night staying late at the library he noticed you, starting to flirt with you, wanting to get into your pants, which you didn't mind at all
You wanted him to want you, and he would love you once he had a chance of fucking you
"You don't have to really, no one can take me who-aaaaaah~"
You had cut him off by sinking down on him, he was laid down on your bed, his perfect hair around your pillow and messy from making out and running your hands through it, his hairy chest was moving up and down erratically, his eyes rolled back when you sank down on him
You threw your head back, legs resting next to his thighs, his cock nestled deep in you, making a bulge on your tummy which you caressed, your ass sat atop his big balls filled with cum, which you were gonna milk out of him
"Fucking hell- how the fuck are you- doing that?" He said in between ragged breaths, seeing that your pussy had swallowed him whole
"Shhh, just enjoy it big boy" you winked at him before bouncing your ass beautifully on top of him
Your hands held onto his tummy as you bounced on him, your ass jiggling and slapping against his balls, his cock hitting your g spot over and over again, your eyes closed from how good it all felt
"Baby, baby, fuck, fuck!" He said holding your ass, your thighs, your love handles, whatever he could hold
He felt in heaven, paradise, pussy paradise, he had never felt what a pussy felt entirely surrounding his dick and he never wanted that feeling to go away, for you to go away...
He fell in love when you took him whole
Still riding him, you leaned back, holding onto his legs now, showing him how your pussy took his monster of a cock smoothly
You rose your hips up, drawing most of him out and sinking back down, making him moan as you went down and up again, you did this for him a few more times before you went back to full on riding him
The sounds of skin slapping skin were filling your room, moans and gasps made a beautiful song as you were approaching your high
His thumb found your clit, drawing figures on it making you cry out
"Fuck yes like that daddy" you said mindlessly
"Fuck baby I love you, please, I love you, don't stop, don't ever stop baby" he said whining and whimpering, you had really made King Steve whimper, you were so proud of yourself
"Gonna cum daddy, fuck I'm cumming!" You cried out as you came on top of him, legs giving out as he thrusted into you and spilled inside your guts
White painted your insides as he kept cumming and cumming litters into you, his mouth agape as he orgasmed so hard the air left his lungs
"Was that good?" You asked him once he came down to earth, drawing figures on his chest lovingly
He looked at you like you hung up the moon on the sky
"Will you marry me?"
You giggled and kissed him
You're not letting go of his big dick <3
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wheatnoodle · 11 months
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eddie goes up to dustin in the boathouse after they’ve delivered his snacks. just grabs him by the backpack and tugs him to the side.
“woah- what?” dustin stumbles, pushing eddie’s hands off him before he fully trips and falls.
“seriously? this is who you brought to help? red and bucks, sure, but harrington? really? king steve?” eddie hisses into his ear, shooting wide eyes around the room to ensure they aren’t being listened in on.
“uh, yeah, really. he kills monsters,” and dustin scoffs like it’s obvious before he’s dragging them both back to the group.
and eddie thinks the kid’s just talking out of his ass until they’re in the upside down and he WITNESSES IT and he needs a cigarette right now-
there’s just…bodies left in steve’s path, anything that dares to come near them. and at the end, after steve’s had his insides turned into outsides and kept on fighting, he somehow manages to CARRY EDDIE???? OUT THROUGH THE GATE????
months later and eddie tells his cc boys that him and steve are dating. gareth kinda pulls back, eyebrows drawn together and confusion all over his face.
“steve harrington? i mean, really?” says it like it’s something to be embarrassed by.
and eddie just smirks, sucks on his cigarette.
“yeah really. he kills monsters.”
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dearharriet · 3 months
Text
I Want Your Video; Steve Harrington x Reader 📼
summary: steve always takes care of you on a night out.
word count: 1.4K
warnings: drinking, smoking, swearing, fem!reader, fluff
a/n: inspired by a djo song with the same title. i’m such a sucker for steve <3
“I ‘ave to go t’the bathrooom,” you tell Steve, holding tight to the hot skin of his bicep. In a drunken stupor, your thumb swipes sweetly over it once, unable to resist.
His other arm, the one you’re not holding to, has your clutch tucked under it. It’s unclear if he’s being gentlemanly or if he’s monitoring your intake. He certainly didn’t take Nancy’s or Robin’s. Or Argyle’s belly bag.
“‘Kay, be safe,” Steve says, patting your elbow. He looks a touch hot, red-cheeked and a little damp around the edges. Dancing must’ve made a mess of you if he looks so disheveled from just standing and talking. You furrow your brows.
“Come with me?” Pouting, your grip slides down to take his hand, but he pulls away.
“Uh—maybe Nance or Rob should do that.”
He says it like such a request is verboten. You look back towards Nance and Robin, relentlessly moving on the dance floor.
“They won’t go with meeee—“ you whine, and then simper when he sighs in defeat.
Steve steers you toward the stairwell that leads down to the toilets. While you weave through the crowds, he stays behind you, a steadying force at your back.
The stairwell is much cooler than the bar. It’s a relief to suck in air that’s not muggy with sweat and beer. At the bottom of the dingey stairs a couple is draped over one another talking closely, and nearer to the bathroom there’s a trio of people sharing a smoke and waiting. Steve and you take up residence just next to them. The concrete wall is cooling on your hot back and it elicits a sigh.
“Having fun?” Steve asks, facing you with his arms crossed and a shoulder leant on the wall. Your clutch is shoved in his front pocket like a miniature Bible.
“Uh-huh.” You nod with exaggerated windedness. “Wish you’d dance with me, though.”
The bathroom door clicks open and a guy comes out, nodding awkwardly at all seven heads turned his way. The queue dwindles to three again—plus Steve, who is smiling at you apologetically.
“Nah, you wouldn’t wanna see me dance. I tend to intimidate people with how skilled I am.”
A laugh bubbles out of you. “Ohhh, right,” you nod. “Must be hard, having all that talent. And you’re s’busy keepin’ me sober.” You speak so fast the words slur on the way out, and Steve chuckles teasingly.
“I’m doin’ a shit job, aren’t I? You’re in a state already.” He reaches out and brushes your arm when he says this, his knuckles leaving goosebumps behind them. When he pulls his hand back he’s grown more sincere. “Who said I’m keeping you sober? I’ve let you drink all you want.”
“You let me,” you tease, “But you’re keeping my wallet. And you’ve been watching me all night.”
“Yeah, well.” He looks defensive. “Someone’s gotta have your back.”
The bathroom door opens again, and the line shrinks even more. You pick the conversation right back up.
“What ‘bout Nance and Rob? And the guys?” Turning toward Steve, your arms cross so you’re mirroring him. “They’ve all got their wallets.”
“They’ve got each other, too.” Steve playfully swings at your shoulder, and you take the hit willingly. “Who’s got you, huh, rockstar?”
A smile splits your face with glee at the nickname. You step closer and you’re about to answer—you, you’ve got me—when Steve clears his throat.
You frown, and Steve smiles, juts his chin toward the bathroom door. It’s empty, you realize, and Steve and you are alone. It seems the third member of the bathroom trio was only company, like Steve.
“You know what to do,” Steve mutters, and you reluctantly peel away from the wall.
“Oh, wait!” You whip around and offer a hand out for your wallet. Steve gives it over wordlessly, and then you’re locking the door behind you.
As suspected, you look a mess. Your hair is frizzed and a touch tangled. Dark mauve eyeliner has smoked itself out—all over your undereye—and your cheeks are red and dampened with sweat.
Despite it all, you feel good. You brought your clutch so you could touch up your lipstick, and you do, but you don’t need to. It’s almost like what Steve said; You’re a rockstar. You look like one, anyway.
After washing your hands, the only thing you do to your appearance is fluff your hair up even more, playing up this smudged version of your original look.
It feels impossibly easy to grin at Steve once you emerge from the bathroom. Steve laughs.
“Why do I feel like you got more drunk while you were in there?”
You tighten your smile primly. “Not drunker, just better looking.”
Steve pulls his brows together almost painfully, his features unreadable. You saunter over to him anyways, stepping into his bubble. His full back is pressed to the wall now, a leg kicked up, and you’re as close as you can get without being thigh-to-knee. Steve’s nervous eyes scan you.
“Want me to take that?” Steve points to your clutch. You nod, but ignore the hand he has waiting for you. Feeling bold, you reach around him and tuck it into his back pocket. Your chests meet, and then crush closer as you both gasp. Pulling away feels suddenly impossible, so you don't, and Steve doesn’t make you. He licks his lips.
“Y’didn’t lock the door,” he mumbles, but your brain jumbles as his hand smooths over your ribs.
“Hmm?” You can’t be bothered with words, feeling more intoxicated by his touch than the three drinks in your system.
Steve rubs a small circle over your side. “The bathroom door,” he says softly, “it stayed on vacant the whole time.”
Oh, yeah. It had. Your mouth pops open, and then you shoot him a wry grin.
“Whoops.”
Steve’s responding head shake is exasperated but fond.
“You trust me too much,” he sighs.
It’s not a joke. A string of insecurity holds the sentence together, and you know what it is. It’s easy to see that he knows, too. Moving closer, committing to the embrace you’ve found yourself in, you pin Steve with a sincere stare.
“Do I?” It’s excessively rhetorical, stilling any rebuttal he has. Steve purses his lips together, and then glances at yours. You toe up ever so slightly, in anticipation. Both of Steve’s hands are on you now, though they’re holding your arms, keeping you at bay.
“We can’t,” Steve whispers, glancing at the stairwell, and you realize the bar is still upstairs with all of your friends. They’d probably come looking soon, vying for another round, another dance. You look to the stairwell too, and then to the other side of the hall, and back to Steve.
“Yet here we are.” The murmur is sultry, luring Steve closer, tempting his hand to wind into the soft hair at the nape of your neck.
“Here we are,” Steve repeats, and then your lips are abruptly too occupied by his to respond.
Steve’s hand that’s not gripping your neck winds over your shoulders, keeping you close. His nose crushes to your cheek as he drags his mouth over yours again and again.
A part of you—the same part that’s observing how good of a kisser he is—can’t believe you’re mouth to mouth with the Steve Harrington from high school. The other half, probably the truer half, knows it’s been a long time coming. Years of patching up and skirting around each other, protecting each other because you had to, and now taking care of each other because you wanted to. Because no one else would.
When you separate, you’re both breathless and effervescent. Steve is staring at you like you hung the moon.
“You’re so beautiful,” he coos, his thumb caressing the rosy apple of your cheek. Steve has a way of marrying sincerity and charm, and it needles at your heart ruthlessly.
You beam and kiss him again as a thank you.
“Think you might be glowing,” he continues, speaking right into your mouth. His teeth clack against yours as the kiss grows too smiley for its own good.
“You look pretty, too,” you goad, tracing his lips. “Cherry’s a good look on you.”
Steve pinches his brow and then notices your smeared lipstick.
“Aw, come on.”
You laugh and help him wipe it off, but when you return to the bar later, Argyle still complements Steve’s beautiful makeup.
+
thank you for reading ! my requests are open :)
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megxplryxb · 8 days
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Romance is Dead, Isn't it?
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Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Notes: Sweet and fluffy, little bit of angst. Based around Valentine’s Day because I’ve had this is in my drafts for a minute.
The smell of cheap, overused aftershave and five dollar bouquets, currently lingered throughout the aisles of Family Video. Loved up couples filling the store, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings and pressing kisses to their lovers blushing cheek as they scanned the shelves of the romance section.
Love heart decorations hung from the ceiling, pink foil curtains draped over the entrance and Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time blared from the speakers while you completed sellotaping the balloons you’d only finished inflating ten minutes ago. You weren't exactly sure why Keith was making Valentine's Day such an extravaganza this year but you were absolutely hating every second of it.
February fourteenth had never been kind to you. Not when you were ten years old and the card you thought had been from your childhood crush was actually written by your Mom. Not when you were fifteen and you went to the movies with Jackson Taylor, who made up a rumour that he had gotten to second base with you and definitely not last year, when Derek Cooper had taken you out for dinner, only to be caught by his girlfriend that he had surprisingly forgotten to mention.
Yeah, Valentine's Day could suck it.
“If one more person asks if we have another copy of Sixteeen Candles, I swear, I won't be held responsible for my actions.” You warn, jumping down from the step ladder with a loud huff.
“Yikes, what’s gotten your panties in a bunch today babe?” Robin questions with a teasing smile on her face as she serves the next customer.
“My panties are not in a bunch thank you very much. I'm just saying, what kind of moron waits until Valentines Day to rent the most sought after romcom?" You ask, taking a gulp of water in an attempt to erase the taste of rubber from your mouth.
Fake laughter echoes from the other side of the store where some girl has been flirting with Steve for the past fifteen minutes. You'd noticed her outside before she walked in, glossing her lips and pushing her boobs up just enough to get the attention she was obviously desperate for. She's annoyingly pretty, with perfect hair and sun kissed skin and when she raises her well manicured hands to rest on his bicep, you can’t help but grit your teeth at them.
"Is he planning to do any work at all today?" You point, rolling your eyes as Robin looks over at her other best friend and then back to you with a frown. She can sense the irritation in your voice and she knows why, even if you would never admit it. The signs have been there for quite some time and she wonders how much longer you can keep up the charade of not having feelings for Steve Harrington.
"Hey Dingus! A little help over here?" Robin demands, directing him to the queue of customers waiting for assistance at the counter. Steve nods his head, apologising to the girl who makes sure to write her number on his arm before waving goodbye.
“Yeah, thanks for calling me over, I've been trying to get away from her for like, the last ten minutes.” Steve breathes a sigh of relief, gesturing for the next customer to approach.
“Yeah, you really looked like you were being held against your will there, Harrington.” You scoff bitterly, stacking up a pile of returned tapes.
“Seriously, did you guys not see me trying to signal for help when she started touching me? I mean come on, desperate much?" He jeers, shaking his head.
"She did seem disgustingly eager." Robin interjects, scrunching her nose.
"Since when has that ever stopped him?" You reply, motioning towards Steve, who seems a little bit offended by your words.
"Jesus, why does it look like Cupid came all over this place?" Eddie chuckles as he enters the store, getting his jacket caught in the foil curtain, almost ripping it off of the door.
“Hey, careful Munson, don’t mess up my masterpiece!” You warn, carrying the tapes into the back as he slowly untangles himself.
"Because dear Edward, it is the day of love and romance!” Robin squeals excitedly, clapping her hands.
“Can you tell she has a date with Vickie tonight?” You tease, her cheeks turning pink at the mention of her new girlfriend.
“Alright, way to go Buckley.” Eddie high-fives the girl who couldn’t contain her happiness.
“We’re just going to the movies but I’m so nervous! Like, what if I make a total doofus of myself around her? She might not be as accepting of my clumsiness as you guys. I could fall up the steps when we’re walking to our seats or choke on the popcorn or…”
“Robin relax, you’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.” Steve interrupts, hearing the conversation from the till. His eyes meet yours, both of you sharing a disapproving look at your friend’s lack of confidence in herself. It was something you often discussed between yourselves, trying to figure out ways to help her see just how great she really was. Robin had always been good at hyping other people up, telling them how awesome or pretty they were but it was a completely different story when it came to herself.
“Steve’s right, you need to chill out. Vickie’s already heard you doing god awful karaoke, not to mention witnessing you hurl all over the bathroom floor at the Hideout and she’s still drooling over you. The girl is putty in your pretty little hands.” You jokingly reassure with a smile and it seems your light hearted words put her somewhat at ease as she takes a relieved breath.
“Hey, do you guys have a copy of that new movie with Molly Ringwald? Sixteen something?” Eddie shouts from the romance section of the store earning a scowl from you.
“Shit out of luck Munson, we’re totally sold out.” Steve replies, the curly haired metal head letting out a dramatic groan as he walked back to the counter, causing some of the other customers to flinch.
“Didn’t take you for a romcom kinda guy Eds.” You mock as he gives you a toothy grin. “Sweetheart, if it helps me get laid by the end of the night, I’ll watch anything.”
“Ew, gross Eddie, I really don’t need visions of you and Chrissy getting it on.” Robin shivers in disgust.
Although you share the same sentiment as your best friend, you can't help but think how nice it is that Eddie finally found someone that truly loves him for who he is. You couldn't remember ever seeing him so happy and a little part of you was jealous that you didn't have that with someone too.
"Harrington, did you get a tat dude?" Eddie quizzes, pointing to the digits on Steve's arm. You're taken out of your thoughts upon hearing the question directed at your coworker. Steve's eyes fall to you for a brief moment but you busy yourself with some paperwork, trying your best to pretend you're not paying attention to them.
"Oh, um no man, just a customer earlier, gave me her number." Steve brushes off with a shrug.
"Sweet, you gonna call her?" The hellfire leader interrupts and you hate yourself for wanting to know the answer too.
"God no, she was way too forward." Steve says, shaking his head, hoping that would be the end of the conversation as you relax again.
"What's wrong with forward? Come on man, it's Valentine's Day, call her, ask her out." Eddie encourages, wondering why Robin was shooting him a killer look as Steve shifts uncomfortably.
"Actually, I kind of already have a date tonight." He states, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The relief you felt moments ago, quickly vanishing, being replaced with a gut wrenching feeling in the pit of your stomach. Steve had someone and it wasn't you. It would never be you.
“You do? Since when, why wasn’t I informed about this?” Robin quizzes suspiciously.
“I don’t have to tell you everything, Robin.” He huffs, rolling his eyes.
“Do we know her?” Eddie smirks and you wish you were anywhere else right now.
“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t.” He answers coyly before serving the next customer.
“So what about you sweetheart, who’s the lucky guy that’s taking you out tonight?” The metal head grins, raising his brows suggestively.
You see Steve and Robin turning their heads, attention on you as Eddie waits for your response. For a moment you consider lying, trying to think of a name and a place just to save face on being the only one without a date for tonight and maybe a little part of you wanted to see what Steve’s reaction would be too. But Robin already knew you had no plans, she had probably already told Steve the same.
“There isn’t one.” You answer, looking down at the ground, wanting it to swallow you whole.
“Bullshit, every time I’m in here there’s a guy asking you out.” Eddie spits, frowning at your response.
He’s right, guys do ask you out. It’s not like you were some sort of prude who never had a sex or never went on dates but lately, you just hadn’t been feeling it. Not when your heart belonged to someone who didn’t even know they had it and until you could get over Steve Harrington, it wouldn’t be fair to start something with someone else.
“Yeah, just not the one I actually want.” You reply, refusing to look Steve’s way as you walk to the back.
You figure now is a good time to take you break, needing a moment away from your friends to regain your composure. The restroom door locking behind you as you drop to the floor, tucking your knees into your chest. How had you gotten here? How had you been so stupid to fall for your friend? How had you allowed this to happen?
You secretly wondered who Steve’s date could be, knowing there was a number of viable contenders. Was it the brunette from last week who asked him to explain how The Lost Boys wasn’t a Peter Pan spin off or the blonde that always laughed at his jokes even when they weren’t even funny. Or maybe it was the raven haired girl who openly discussed her recent porno rentals with him every week.
One thing you knew for sure, it certainly wasn’t you.
The sound of footsteps brings you back to your shitty reality and the sudden knock on the bathroom door has you standing on your feet again.
“Hey, it’s just me. Are you ok?” You hear Robin ask from the other side. You straighten yourself up, wiping your clothes down before unlocking the door to face your friend.
“Yeah of course, why wouldn’t I be?” You question, doing your best to give her a reassuring smile but she sees right through you.
“I honestly didn’t know dingus had a date, I would have told you if I did.” She mutters nervously as you shake your head.
“Why? It’s not like I care what he does.” You state as Robin gives you an unconvincing glance.
“Babe, it’s me you’re talking to right now, no one else. You forget I used to be the master at hiding my feelings, so I know all the signs. You’re totally crazy about him aren’t you?” She quizzes, as you shrug your shoulders. There was no point in hiding it from her anymore, she could read you like a book.
“I’ll get over it.”
“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” She suggests as you let out a bitter laugh. “Did you not just hear what he said out there? He has a date, Robin.”
“Yeah but maybe if—”
“No. I’m not telling him alright? So please, just drop it.” You beg, letting out a deflated sigh.
Robin decides not to push you any further, realising you didn’t want to talk about it right now but you know this won’t be the end of it and eventually you’d have to answer the many questions you were sure she was going to have, taking a mental note to purchase alcohol before you talked about your feelings for Steve with her. But for now, you were grateful that she was leaving well enough alone so you could get back to work and pretend that everything was fine.
The remaining hours went by painfully slow, the romance section almost bare and you were counting down the minutes before you could go home to your bed and shut out the world while you waited for this shitty day to be over. Once the store got a little quieter, Steve offered to man the counter while you did Robin’s make up in the back, helping her get ready for the long awaited date before her girlfriend picked her up.
By 7:45, you were left with Steve and Keith who had been in his office doing paper work since he ordered you to decorate the store earlier. Steve had noticed you were quieter than usual, trying his best to joke and make light conversation but all he was met with was one worded answers.
“It was really cool of you to do Robin’s make up, y’know?” You hear Steve mumble as you restock the confectionery stand.
“That’s what best friends are for, right?”
“Yeah of course but you saw how nervous she was all day and I think you helping her out by making her look all pretty and stuff, just gave her the confidence boost she needed for tonight. I just thought it was really sweet of you.” He compliments, a warm look on his face that has your frosty demeanour melting.
“Alright, I’m done for the day. You two ok to lock up?” Keith asks, dousing himself in cheap cologne as Steve shoots his boss a glare knowing it was his night to close.
“No, not really. I have a date.” Steve argues as Keith grunts unsympatheticly. “You’re not the only one lover boy.”
“Online chat rooms don’t count, Keith.” Steve fires back as you try not to laugh at the expression on your boss’s face.
“You want to be out of a job, Harrington?” Keith threatens, looking less than impressed.
“No, but I really need to—”
“That settles it then, you two will lock up. Happy Valentines Day.” He smirks, throwing Steve a set of keys before exiting the store.
“What an asshole!” Steve groans, throwing the keys on the counter, putting an irritated hand through his signature hair while his plans hang in the balance.
“Now I get why he wanted me to decorate so badly.” You mutter, thinking back to how you spent the first couple of hours of your shift, blowing up balloons and getting sticky tape stuck in your hair. Keith was loved up like the rest of your friends. Cupid had gotten another one.
“Do you actually believe he has a date?” Steve asks, frustration still apparent in his voice as you nod your head, groaning.
“As much as it pains me to say yes, given that I myself don’t actually have a date, when have you ever seen him put on cologne?” You question as Steve lets out a heavy sigh.
“Good point. I hope she stands the son of a bitch up though.” He grins playfully and you can’t help but smile back at him. He was so breathtakingly beautiful and you kind of hated him for it.
“Hey, look at that, I finally got a smile out of you.” He teases, poking at your cheek as you lightly push his hand away.
“Steve, quit it.” You giggle as he shakes his head.
“Not a chance, you’re just so pretty when you smile.” He admits, cupping your face momentarily, locking his eyes with your own and your breath hitches as his warm hand rests on your face, his thumb carefully caressing your cheek and you hope to god you’re not blushing right now. Your eyes wander to his lips, pink and plump and a little chapped from the cold weather Hawkins was currently experiencing and you couldn’t help but wonder what lucky girl would get to kiss them later on.
For a moment as Steve gazed at you, you considered telling him everything. How you’ve been crazy about him since you worked at Scoops Ahoy together, falling hard for him when you saw how kind he was to the kids he watched over, knowing he wasn’t the same selfish guy you’d known in high school. Steve Harrington was selfless, brave and caring and as you looked into his caramel coloured eyes, all you wanted for him was to be happy because that’s what he deserved more than anything, even if it would never be with you.
“Steve…”
“Yeah?” He whispers, looking at you in a way that made your knees weak.
You knew this was your chance to tell him, the perfect night to admit your feelings but previous Valentine’s Day disasters prevented you from saying what you really wanted to, afraid Steve would have to let you down gently or worse, laugh in your face.
“You should go home and get ready for your date, I’ll lock up here.” You swallow hard as he finally removes his hand from your face, seemingly taking him out of his own thoughts.
“Oh, no I couldn’t ask you to do that.” He replies, shaking his head.
“You didn’t ask me, I offered.” You reassure, feeling guilty for how you had treated him all day.
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t. The place is quiet now anyway and there’s only an hour left. Plus I’ve been looking forward to destroying all those damn decorations all day.” You joke, attempting to hide the sadness you were currently feeling from him, terrified that you’d break down in tears if he stuck around much longer.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” He grins as you playfully roll your eyes at him. “So I’ve been told.”
“Got any advice for a successful Valentine’s date?” He questions, grabbing his car keys as you let out a sarcastic laugh.
“You’re really not asking the right person. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good Valentine’s experience. Why are you so nervous anyway, you’ve been on hundreds of dates?”
“Yeah I know, but I really like this girl, like a lot. More than I’ve ever liked anybody and I really don’t want to mess this up.” He sighs and you wonder if he can hear your heart smashing into pieces.
“Wow, she must be really special.” You breathe as he nods his head looking like a schoolboy with a crush.
“Yeah, she is.” He admits and it’s like a fresh bullet to your chest.
“Well then I hope she knows how lucky she is. Any girl who can’t see what an amazing guy you are would have to be a complete idiot.” You reply honestly, almost certain you see a hint of pink in his cheeks.
“Thanks, honey.” He whispers, before walking towards the exit, the nickname causing your brain to short circuit. Honey.
“Steve?”
“Hmm?”
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, pretty girl.” He grins, walking out the door as you feel a tear slide down your cheek watching his car pull out of the space, taking your broken heart right along with him. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, cursing under your breath, pondering if you were really doomed to face every February fourteenth in utter misery.
The last hour of your shift had gone by quicker than expected, having no customers during the final thirty minutes, giving you plenty of time to dispose of the shitty decorations that had mocked you throughout the day. When you finished vacuuming the floor, you wondered how your friends were fairing on their dates. Had Eddie gotten through a rom com without passing out? Did Robin make it up the steps of the movie theatre without falling? Was Keith really on a date with an actual woman? Had Steve already managed to get his new girl into bed?
That last thought made you want to throw up.
At 8:50 you decided to call it a night, dreaming of your warm bed and the cheese pizza you were going to order the minute you got home, wanting nothing more than to wallow in self pity. The money had been cashed up, the shelves were organised and you figured you had earned the extra ten minutes after everything you had endured today. Once you grabbed your handbag and jacket from your locker, you did a final check of the place before clocking out, switching the open sign to closed before you shut the door behind you, turning the key in the lock and pulling the shutters down, thankful you were off for the next couple of days.
As you tossed the keys into your bag, pulling on your jacket to prepare for the short walk to your apartment, you noticed a familiar maroon BMW parked up and Steve Harrington leaning against the hood, holding a bouquet of flowers.
“Steve?”
“Hey you.” He smiles, eyes sparkling in the glow of the moonlight.
“Is everything ok?” You worry, wondering if something had happened to one of the kids or your older friends.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” Steve reassures as you let out a sigh of relief.
“Well for starters, aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?” You quiz, confusion apparent in your tone.
“I was just waiting for her to get off work actually, I’m picking her up here.” He smirks confidently, pushing himself off of the hood.
“You’re meeting her in the Family Video parking lot? Isn’t that a bit creepy?” You tease, raising a brow at him, trying not to focus on how good he looks in a grey sweater that you’ve never seen on him before.
“Well yeah, I guess it would be a little creepy if she didn’t work there.” He jokes, hoping he’d given you enough clues to figure out the rest for yourself. When your eyes begin to widen, mouth parting as you try to speak, he knows the penny has finally dropped.
“Steve I—”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, pretty girl.” He grins, repeating the same words he'd said earlier, handing you the prettiest bunch of daisies you’ve ever seen and it’s not until his fingers brush yours that you realise it isn’t a dream. Steve Harrington was here, waiting for you.
“These are for me?” You ask, breath catching in your throat.
“Of course they are, who else would I get them for?” He teases as you try to hold back tears.
"Steve, I…I can’t believe you got me daisies. they’re so beautiful.” You smile, suddenly feeling very dizzy.
“I know I probably should have gotten you roses but I remember last summer when we took the kids to the park and you made Max and El daisy chains. You said they were your favourite.”
“You remember that?” You blush looking up at him as he nods. “I remember everything about you, honey.”
Your stomach is doing somersaults now, palms sweaty and shaking with the way he’s looking at you and it takes everything in you not to kiss him silly.
“Did Robin know about this?” You quiz, wondering if you were going to have to murder your friend tomorrow for letting you go through a shift thinking Steve was going on a date with someone else.
“Are you serious? You know she can’t keep secrets. I couldn’t take the risk that she wouldn’t telll you. Plus, I was afraid she’d never let me live it down if you rejected me.” Steve jokes, flashing his pearly whites at you. How could you ever reject him?
“I don’t understand, if Robin didn’t tell you, how did you know I had feelings for you?”
“Not to sound totally arrogant but I’m not completely stupid. I see how flustered you get around me sometimes and how jealous you get when a customer tries to flirt with me, like today. But mostly I’ve seen the way you look at me and then I knew for sure—cause it’s the same way I look at you.” He whispers, his warm hand cupping your cheek.
“And how exactly do you look at me?” You challenge, swallowing hard as his lips inch closer to yours.
“Like I’m totally crazy about you.”
489 notes · View notes
manic-eddie · 2 years
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Joe Keery 🤝 Joseph Quinn
being chaotic besties
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yovrnewromantic · 1 month
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THE LINE—
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pairings: steve harrington x henderson!reader
1 — part 2 coming soon…
words: 3.6k
Summary: You realize the line between love and hate is very thin as you babysit and monster hunt alongside Steve Harrington.
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Leaning pathetically against your locker, you banged your head against the metal, tugging on the end of your cheerleading skirt that got caught in the door when you slammed it shut. It’s your fault really, you were so happy to get it open for once. Of course, it had to be too good to be true.
“Need some help with that?”
Your lips swerved into a smile at the familiar voice, leaning away from your locker to look at one of your favorite girls.
“Yes, Nancy. Please!” you pleaded, laughing as the girl stepped forward, easily opening your locker door, not even needing to ask the combination from the amount of times she’s had to open it.
Nancy Wheeler smiled smugly when your locker opened, releasing you and your skirt.
Nancy had been one of your best friends since you moved to Hawkins along with Chrissy Cunningham and Heather Holloway. At twelve years old, you were anxious, but to your surprise, extremely charismatic. You found friends like wildflowers, something you loved, but Nancy was one of the best. She was like a rose, beautiful and smart, something that drew you to her in the first place.
“My savior! How could I ever repay you?” you joked, mocking a princess before laughing at your own joke, tugging your books tighter to your hip.
Nancy grimaced. “Well,” she started, and your brows furrowed, making you feel uneasy, “Firstly, by not being too mad…”
Nancy shoved a note in your face. You squinted reading the words that alert you that King fucking Steve was waiting for your best friend in the bathroom, wanting to make out. Gross.
“Ew,” you stated, playful smile turning into a pout. Your shoulders slumped, concern kicking in rather than disgust. “Harrington? Really, Nance? You could do so, so much better.”
To you, Steve Harrington was the worst person at Hawkins high. A real player who had absolutely no consideration for anyone’s feeling but his own and his stupid little posse. Generally a piece of shit.
“You owe me,” she mutters, shrugging her shoulder to try to rid her mind of what you were implying, what she had already been anxious about.
“I just think it’s a bad idea,” you say softly, trying not to hurt the poor girls feelings, but really you were just trying to help.
“And why’s that?” she asks, on the defensive.
You shake your head, holding yourself back from rolling your eyes. “He’s a bad idea,” you state simply. “He treats girls like shit and you know better to accept that.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I know that he dumped Charlotte after he had sex with her,” you offered, looking at her with a raised brow. Nancy rolls her eyes.
“Well, that’s Charlotte. And I’m going to see him,” she announces, a little like she’s singing.
Sighing disappointedly, the bell rings in your ears. Great, you’re late.
You give Nancy a look already walking backwards towards your first period. “Make good decisions. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“You wouldn’t go out with him the first place!” she calls back, looking at you with a playful expression.
“Exactly.” You smile, finally turning around and heading to your class. When you fully turn, your smile disappears.
Something about Steve makes you anxious, fills your body with unease whenever you two make eye contact when your both at your lockers. You hate the way he smiles smugly at you. And you hate that he’s going after another one of your friends, the fear of her getting hurt makes your stomach ache.
This time, if he hurts her, you hurt him.
And that’s exactly what happened.
You were on your evening walk, frowning at the missing poster you see of Will Byers, your little brother’s best friend and Johnathan Byers, one of your best friends, brother. It’s a saddening sight, especially since the young boy’s funeral. Absolutely heartbreaking.
Frustration is throbbing through your body. You feel helpless, unable to find the boy despite having helped put up posters and searched through the woods countlessly.
You were also angry with yourself for allowing your brother out of the house when you heard the news, letting him and his friends set out in search for him themselves because your heart ached looking into your brother’s teary eyes as he begged you not to tell mom that you caught him sneaking out.
It was stupid, that you told him to keep his walking on him, stay with his friends, and to stay safe or you’d fucking kill him. You’re a shitty sister.
You were an idiot. An idiot people pleaser who never knew when to say no to her friends and family. It was stupid that when your empathetic heart feels their pain you resort to the worse stress reliever, and contradictory to your guilty conscience, violence.
“Harrington, you better get your ass down from that ladder right now!”
You saw him from a mile away, the words spray painted on the movie theatre that you would always take your brother and his friends. The only thing you could make out of it was that Steve fucking Harrington was caught defaminating one of your best friend’s names while vandalizing the cinema.
Steve’s eyes went wide at the sight of you, the beautiful girl who ignored and criticized his every move. His ex-girlfriends best friend. His heart raced at your angry expression. His cheeks probably got a little red too.
“Henderson, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked, sponge pausing its movement to look down at you. Steve had completely forgotten what it looked like had happened, oblivious to everything else around him, his entire focus on you. His fake innocence only made you angrier.
Ignoring his question, you fumed, “Get your ass down or I’m pushing you off this damn ladder!”
Steve’s eyes widened as he muttered curses under his breath, quickly climbing down from the ladder. You pretended that seeing his face bloody and bruised didn’t make your stomach ache.
“Jesus, what your pro—,” You shoved him, and he stumbled back, arms stretched out as his back hits the ladder, “blem!”
“You wrote this? You called Nancy a slut?!”
You pushed him again, and he stumbled again, still looking at you like you’re crazy. He caught your wrists when you went to push him again.
Your hands were held at his chest, pulling you into his chest despite how you try to plant your feet, to stay away from him. Steve still has an bizzare look on his face as he looks down at you, cheeks pink and he’s slightly out of breathe from how he scrambled to grab your wrists.  Steve rapidly shakes his head, blurting, “What? No! No, I didn’t!”
You let out a scoff, nodding sarcastically as if you believed him. “So… you just cleaning it up? Bullshit,” you spit, and Steve looks almost hurt by your insinuation.
“Yes! “ He announced, running a hand through his hair when you tugged your wrists free. “I didn’t write this!”
Crossing your arms over your chest, you looked at him accusingly, like he was stupid. “Then who did, Harrington?”
“Tommy.”
“Oh, you’re best friend!” you exclaimed, “That totally makes so much of a difference.”
“No, Henderson, — I.” He groaned. He glanced around, breathing out of his mouth before he pinched his nose. “I should’ve stopped him, I know, but I’m cleaning this up now. I’m trying to fix it.”
“Because you got caught?”
“No! I just—,” he shook his head. “I’m not… friends with those assholes anymore. I just wanna help.”
Really? you thought to yourself. Your nose scrunched as you scanned him up and down for a second with repulsion. He’s not friends with Tommy and Carol anymore? That’s hard to believe.
Your interrogation seemed never ended, and you still had the urge to punch him in the face despite the cuts and bruises that stand prominent on his handsome face. You wet your lips, ignoring your natural concern and continuing. “Help? Help what?”
“I wanna apologize,” he said. “To Nance.”
“Really?” you deadpanned.  Steve arms waved wildly before he poked to fingers into his forehead, closing his eyes.
“Yes, I’m sorry. Is it that hard to believe?”
“Yeah, it is, King Steve,” you scoffed, before you let your thoughts slip into your words. You switch your footing, voice quieting ever so slightly when you ask, “What happened to your face?”
He paused.
“Byers,” Steve replied embarrassed, not even looking at you as your eyes widen.
“Really?” You sound surprised, and you are. The boy who’s been the nicest to you, one of your best friends ever since you’d gotten to town. Your babysitting buddy. The boy who’s brother was missing.
“Johnathan did that?” You ask. When he nods, you hum. “You deserved it.”
“I know.”
Humming, you look at Steve for a second, checking out his bloodied face and red knuckles. Next to his foot is the sponge he was using, it’s turning red and it looks like it’s decomposing from overuse. It makes you clear your throat when you catch his eyes again.
Quietly, almost whispering, you ask, “Do you love her?” You gulp, specifying, “Nancy?”
He sighed, and he looked at you for a good minute, clearly contemplating. Truth be told, he didn’t know. She was… different from his other girlfriend.
Steve would be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t like you. He knew he did, since last year and you walked in wearing a pretty little sundress and gave him attitude when he offered to be your prince charming and open your locker. Maybe he liked Nancy a lot, but he didn’t know if you could love someone and stare at their best friend when their back was turned.
He swallowed, shrugging. “I don’t know.”
You don’t like him. You don’t like him. You don’t like him.
Steve’s word make you nod to yourself, ignoring the relief you feel that he’s not in love with her for Nancy’s sake. Clearly, Steve was a shitty teenage boy, and even worse boyfriend, but you believed in change.
“You really want to make things right?” you question, still trying to keep your guard up despite how you feel them crashing down around you. Goddammit, you hate Steve Harrington.
“Yes,” he groaned, meaningfully.
In your head, you were screaming. Blood curdling, a homicide victim type of screaming, and it’s so loud, so so freaking loud that you couldn’t hear your own thoughts. Maybe, that’s why you make a dumb decision.
You shrug, already turning around to start walking. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”
“Wait, what? Where?”
“To go see Nancy,” you scoffed, as if it was common knowledge. Impatiently, you said, “Come on, I don’t want to be seen with you.”
You trudged forward, once white sneakers thumping against the sidewalk. Behind you, you can hear Steve jog forward, eager to catch up with you.
It doesn’t take long, but the moment he’s beside you, words spill from his lips, quickly. “I— I have my car.”
Pausing in your step, you begrudgingly looked at Steve, quite relieved that you don’t have to walk all the way to Jonathan’s house. “Okay. Where?”
“Over here,” Steve says, almost out of breath as he points to his car. You head towards it without a second thought, harshly pulling on his passenger car door and glaring at him when it doesn’t open.
Steve looks at you strangely, kinda of afraid of you, and he puts his key in before opening the door for you. You don’t look at him, not even when he gets inside the driver seat and starts the car, too busy staring out the window.
“Do you, um, want any music?” Steve stutters, looking at you hesitantly. You roll your eyes.
“You not talking is enough for me,” you smile, sarcastically.
“Oh,” Steve deadpans, biting his lips at he turns away from you, ready to drive.
Great, now you feel bad. You offer, “What do you have?”
“Yeah— yeah, I have Beat It, some AC/DC, Uptown Girl—
“Uptown Girl, please,” you cut him off.  Your casual manners make Steve blush. You don’t even notice that you said it, and it reminds Steve how good you are. You were solid good.
A good girl.
A nice girl.
And one who wants nothing to do with him.
Go figure.
Steve realizes how fucked up his mind is as his knuckles turn white on the stirring wheel. He starts to drive, listening to you hum while starring out the window, sometimes cutting yourself off to tell him directions to Jonathan’s house.
When he asked why there, you said that he had to apologize to Jonathan first. He listens to you for reasons he could not comprehend, because he found himself trusting you despite how much you must hate because he knows you.
In the hallways, he’d watched you tell freshmen directions, laugh on your way to class, help kids who would drop things. You’d barely notice the boys that trailed after you that you thought were only friends, and he’d watch you scold them whenever they were mean to some freak, or nerd, or geek, in the halls.
You were nice. The nicest girl at that damn school, and unbeknownst to you, The Queen Of Hawkins High.
He can’t keep his eyes off you, and he’s never felt guiltier. He let his friend call his girlfriend a slut while he was yearning to kiss her best friend on the way to apologize to her. There was something wrong with him. Steve shook his head, letting his eyes part from you and focus on the road.
The drive was slow, but the moment the car parked in the Byers’ driveway, you were quick to usher Steve out.
“Go,” you wave.
“What?” Steve’s heart races. “Right— right now?”
“When else?” you blink.
“Shouldn’t we rehearse something?”
You sigh, holding back a much needed eye roll. A fake smile props on your lips. “‘Jonathan, I’m sorry for fighting you in the middle of the street. That one’s on me,’” you say. “‘Oh, and I feel bad for smashing your camera to little bits. How about I buy you a new one with my daddy’s money?’” You drop your smile. “That good?”
“The camera wasn’t my fault,” he justified.
 “I know, I was there. Still, that doesn’t make what you did right, so get out of the car and apologize,” you punctuated.
Steve mouth gaped. Then, he begrudgingly unbuckles his seat belt and grumbles under his breath, stepping out the vehicle. He slams the car door shut.
You snorted a laugh, sinking into Steve’s comfy car seats.
From where your sat, you have a clear viewing of the show. You’re not sure whether or not Jonathan will forgive him. Apart of you hopes he doesn’t. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.
What did surprise you was watching Steve, under the warm yellow glow from the Byers house lights, pound on the door and then eventually force his way in.
Hastily, you trailed after him, leaves crunching under your quick feet.
“Steve!” you called once in the door way. “This wasn’t what we talked about…”
The words died in your throat as your eyes scattered across the room, the sight of Jonathan, a shit ton of weapons his living room table and Nancy with a gun pointed at Steve’s face had you had you bewildered.
“You two need to leave now!” Jonathan said, but you were more focused on Nancy’s count down, gun still pointed at Steve.
Before you could think, you were shoving yourself in between Steve, Jonathan, and the gun, hand raised in defense. The mass of Christmas lights around you flickered briskly with your final shout, “What is going on?”
Few words between Nancy and Jonathan end with Steve Harrington, grabbing your wrist and dragging you down the hall into a bedroom as a venus-flytrap looking bear rips apart the ceiling.
“What the hell was that,” Steve yelled along with a variety of curses.
“Shut up!” Nancy and Jonathan shouted, synchronized.
You and Steve shared a feared look.
Pounds and gurgles erupt from the other side of the door until they suddenly stopped. In the silence, Nancy and Jonathan exit the room, Steve and you right behind them.
“Are you going to tell us what that was?” you rasped desperately.
Nancy’s reply was short. “A demogorgon.”
You recognized that name. “Like—,” you brows pinched together. “From DnD?”
“That’s what the boys said.”
“The boys,” you repeated. “Like Dustin, Lucas, and Mike? They know about this?”
“Look, Y/N, I’m sorry but we don’t have time for the questions. It’s going to come back, and you two,” she gestures to you and Steve, “need to leave. Right now.”
Breathing heavy, and with the shake of your head, you said, “No.”
“Yes, go,” Nancy said, stepping closer. You were the same height, she couldn’t intimidate you, not even with a gun in her hand. You weren’t going to leave, especially because of the newfound fear of that thing going after your brother.
“Y/N,” Steve tried, eager for the door.
“No, you go,” you said to Steve then turned to Nancy, “I’m staying so either let me help kill it or I’ll stand here and be bait.”
“Fine,” Nancy said.
Jonathan threw you a lighter. “Throw this into the carpet when it’s here.”
Steve felt pathetic watching the three of you. He didn’t want to leave and be a coward, but he didn’t want to die either. One thought over powered the other and he sprinted to his car, but seeing rapid flickering lights, he forced himself back inside.
After swinging a crowbar at the demogorgon and watching it swallow it whole, you were sure you were going to die. You fell back, squeaking in despair as you did so. The demogorgon’s mouth widen, and you may have gotten a little teary eyed at the sight of Jonathan and Nancy on the floor, looking helpless as well.
But to your shock, Steve Harrington jumped in front of you, swinging a bat like he hadn’t quit baseball in seventh grade.
What happened next was blur, but you remember Steve Harrington forcing you to your feet and the sight of a demogorgon enveloped in flames.
With shallow breaths, you sat on the wooden porch in front of the Byers’ house, illuminated by a singular warm lantern, recollecting the previous events. Mind racing, you hardly notice the body next to yours.
Well, until, and hand landed on your shoulder. It’s large, much bigger than your own. Your eyes traced the arm up to its owner, seeing a bloody, concerned face staring back at you.
“You okay?” Steve asked, and your heart swelled the slightest bit at his worry. He had just almost killed himself and he was worried about you.
Your eyebrows twitched, the undying desire to hate him still present. “Yeah,” you choked, “I’m fine.”
Steve nodded. He retracted the hand off your shoulder slowly, which you were grateful for. Nancy and Johnathan’s dull chatter filled the void, the four of you too nerved to fully close the front door.
Clearing your throat, you said, not looking at him. “Thank you for — um — saving my life.”
When Steve spoke, you turned to him. “Anybody would’ve done the same.”
“No they wouldn’t have,” you said, entire body angling towards him. You kept your hands in your lap, tediously explaining, “They would’ve ran for the hills, like you should’ve, but you didn’t. So thanks. I owe you one.”
“Don’t mention it,” he griped, but you shook your head with a scoff, readjusting yourself to look straight forward. You went silent again. Not far from you, you can hear the engine of a car, smell the toxic carbon monoxide polluting the air.
Steve Harrington saved your life. King Steve Harrington saved your life.
Laughing to yourself, you eyed Steve carefully. “I never would’ve taken you for a hero, Harrington.”
“Guess you were wrong,” Steve chuckled. His eyes shone particularly bright in the moonlight.
“Mhm,” you hummed, looking to your lap, “maybe about a lot of things too.”
You hadn’t known why you said that. Steve’s lips parted at your words, a dumbfounded look forming on his face.
“Y/N!”
Immediately, your head whipped to the noise. Your eyes widened with recognition to the voice. “Dustin!” you shouted, voice echoing off the trees in question.
A car pulled up, and in the back windows you could see three smiling faces in the window.
Smiling. They’re okay, you told yourself. And free to yell.
“You boys are so lucky.” The words came out forced, a quiver in your voice at the pure relief you feel, rushing to the boys off the porch and watching the three of them exit the car safely. “You could’ve gotten yourselves killed,” you snapped. “Why didn’t you told me?”
Only after you spoke did you notice their red rimmed eyes.
Your lips twitched into a frown. Swallowing back your own tears, you pulled Dustin, Lucas, and Mike into a hug. “I’m so glad you all are okay.”
Vaguely, blue and red flashing lights pull up onto the driveway of the Byers’ house. Police step out their car with questioning looks. It’s not long before one offers to take you and your brother home.
Glancing behind you, Steve Harrington’s eyes found yours swiftly, as if they had been trained to you this entire time. Hesitantly, you raised your hand, not very high, but just visibly for him to see. You gave Steve a small wave.
He smiled at you, and you were sure that it hurt.
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been meaning to write a steve fic for a while. he’s so boyfriend and i’m a huge hopelessly pining/enemies to lovers girly
not my best, probably will rewrite in the future
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drudyslut · 2 months
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— summary: you get trained and ruined by steve harrington. really no plot. just some filthy smut with daddy harrington🤪
— warnings: smut! 18+ dom!steve, innocent!inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, oral (male&fem receiving), unprotected sex, loss of virginity, praise kink, degrading, slight daddy/sir kink.
— note: this idea was requested by @wdsara48 & then @babygorewhore !!! so i’m writing it bc i love it and missed writing for stevie baby🥰 i hope y’all love it !! 🤍 also to add, i totally pictured season 1 stevie while writing this😮‍💨
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❥ pretty, dumb thing — s.h
you’d never been touched by a man, you’d never even touched yourself. you were pure, innocent, wanting to save yourself for that right person.
with all your rules, and all of your self control, you never expected yourself to end up in this position. hips grinding against steve harrington’s clothed thigh, the most pathetic whimpers falling from your lips as he whispered the filthiest words into your ear.
“stevie.. ‘m so close..” you whine, his hands gripping at your hips tighter and pushing your core further into his thigh, a delicious pressure on your clit that has your toes curling.
steve breathes out a laugh, running one hand up your side and gripping tightly at one of your exposed tits, “gonna cum f’me? such a pretty, dumb thing huh? lettin’ me train you to be a good girl? to ruin this little innocence act?”
the band in your belly tightens, finally snapping after one more grind of your hips. you fall forward, head buried in the crook of his neck as you cry out his name, his hands on your hips helping you ride out your first ever orgasm.
steve slowly lifts you from his lap, dropping you onto his bed and pulling his shirt over his head. you sit yourself up onto your knees and watch him intently, nerves running on high as you think of all the things he had planned for you.
he moves his fingers down to the button on his jeans, quickly undoing it and moving to slide his zipper down. your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you see his large cock pressed firmly against his thigh, his briefs not leaving much to the imagination.
a smirk works its way onto his face, his chocolate brown eyes finding yours, “like what you see baby? gonna be a good girl and suck daddy’s cock?”
saliva pools in your mouth, your bottom lip brought between your teeth as you nod your head slowly.
steve climbs onto the bed, his large hand wrapping around your throat as pushing your neck backward, forcing your head into an uncomfortable upward position. “words. you know i don’t like that nodding shit”
you stutter out a response, “y-yes sir”
he lets out a low groan at your response, the word ‘sir’ making his cock throb. he swiftly pulls his briefs down his legs, letting his rock hard cock spring free, already dripping with precum.
he releases your throat, both hands making their way to the back of your head and grasping at your hair tightly. you spit into your palm, timidly grasping at his cock, running it slowly up and down the soft skin.
steve shoves your head down, forcing your lips to lightly brush against the swollen head of his cock. precum coats your lips, your tongue swiping out to lick them clean. your eyes trail up to find steve’s face, “i- i’ve never…”
steve looks down at you, his eyes glazed over with lust and need. a slightly sincere look takes over his features, “right. ‘innocent girl’ and all. just wrap your lips around it, i’ll help you”
you quickly obey, wrapping your lips around his tip, sucking on it lightly before pushing more of him into your mouth. steve lets out a low groan, a small “fuck” falling from his lips.
he tightens the grip in your hair, pushing your head all the way down until his tip kisses at the back of your throat, making you gag around him. he slowly pulls you back up his length before harshly slamming his hips forward again. tears begin to prick at your eyes, your brain short circuiting with each push and pull of his cock.
“go on, do it yourself. find a pace, no teeth. you can do it, gonna make you my own personal fucktoy by the end of the night”
you begin bobbing your head up and down his length at a slow and steady pace. steve keeps his fingers dug into your hair, helping you push his cock all the way down your throat. you begin gagging around him, drool running down the sides of your mouth and soaking steve’s balls.
you feel his hips stuttering, his dick twitching in your mouth. he lets out low and raspy moans, the grip he had on your hair now bruising as he harshly pulls you back, strings of spit being attached to his cock.
you gasp for air, a hand clutched to your chest as steve gazes down at you, “fuck, i can’t wait to cum down your pretty little throat, but for now, ‘m gonna go down on you, okay baby?”
“o-okay..” you say softly.
steve lightly pushes you back onto the bed, your tits bouncing slightly when your back hits the mattress. you instinctively clamp your legs shut, trying to hide yourself from him but his large palms grip at your thighs, forcing them back open.
“aht aht, stop trying to hide from me baby” he pauses, sucking in a sharp breath and running two fingers through your arousal soaked pussy, “such a fucking pretty pussy. so fucking wet, holy shit”
he sinks two fingers inside of you, pulling a high pitched squeal from you. he slowly thrusts his fingers in and out of your tight cunt, dropping onto his stomach and flicking his tongue over your sensitive clit.
you begin whimpering out soft moans, the feel of his fingers massaging your inner walls as his tongue licked and flicked over your clit felt so good, like nothing you’d ever experienced in your life.
steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking at the bundle of nerves softly while he continued pushing his fingers in and out of your weeping cunt. you feel that new yet familiar feeling building inside you once more, your orgasm threatening to burst as steve continues working at your pussy with his lips and fingers.
he slowly pulls his fingers from you, lips releasing your clit with a pop, dragging his tongue through your folds, your juices coating his tongue.
steve laps at your core like a man starved, dragging his tongue from your hole to your clit over and over, his tongue flicking over your clit and pushing you over the edge.
your hands fly into his perfect hair, fingertips digging into the soft brown locks and tugging harshly as your second orgasm of the day rushes through you, arousal soaking steve’s face as your legs shake.
steve pushes himself up and onto his knees, wiping your juices from his face with the back of his hand. he smirks down at your weak figure below him, letting a dark chuckle fall past his lips, “fuck, that was so goddamn hot”
he crawls on top of your body, arms caging you in. he rakes his fingertips up your side and to your face, his thumb lightly stroking at your cheek, head dipped down to your ear as he whispers, “almost done, ‘m gonna fuck you now, okay? gonna stretch this sweet pussy out, gonna have you only thinking of me after today”
he gives you no time to respond, his free hand now grasping at his cock and giving it a few slow pumps. he drags his swollen tip through your slick folds, pushing it inside of you slowly before pulling it back out. you whimper, too sensitive for anymore, but also craving the feel of his thick cock buried deep inside of you.
“d-daddy.. please” you whimper out, causing him to darkly chuckle.
“needy lil thing aren’t you sweetheart, don’t worry, daddy’s gonna take care of you”
he slowly pushes his head into you, making you whine out in pain. you press your palms firmly against his chest, fingers pulling at the hair as he slowly pushes more of his thick cock into you.
inch by inch steve fills you up, finally sinking the last inch inside. he stays still for a moment, letting you adjust to his length, but you whimper, your hands flying to this shoulders, fingernails digging into his soft skin.
steve begins to slowly pull himself out, his eyes flickering down to where the two of you connected, a smirk taking over his face when he sees you’ve already left a creamy ring of arousal and blood on his cock.
you loudly gasp, tears slipping past your eyes when he begins to slowly roll his hips, slowly thrusting himself in and out of your pussy. the pain finally subsides, pleasure taking over your entire body.
“f-faster daddy! please!”
steve’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip, his hips snapping faster, his swollen head repeatedly hitting at your gspot. your hips buck forward, meeting each of steve’s thrusts, “fuck you’re takin’ me so good baby, fuckin’ squeezin’ me so tight! god i knew you were a fuckin’ slut— shit!”
you wrap your arms around steve’s torso, legs wrapping around his hips and pulling him further into you, “wanna ride me baby? hmm? wanna learn how to bounce on daddy’s cock?”
you whimper out a pathetic “yes sir”, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth as steve grins, flipping your bodies, making you straddle his waist. you gasp loudly, the new position making his cock push deep into your cunt, swollen head kissing at your gspot and making the band in your belly tighten again.
“s’close daddy! g-gonna cum!”
you fall forward, burying your face in steve’s neck as you roll your hips around his length.
you begin clenching around him repeatedly, his hands tightly gripping at your ass as he begins bucking his hip upward, fucking himself into you. his hips begin stuttering, dick twitching inside of you, his thick, white ropes of cum painting your inner walls.
he continues thrusting up into you, trying to help you reach your final high of the night. a few more thrusts of his hips has you tumbling over the edge, the band snapping as you come undone around him, your arousal soaking your inner thighs and steve’s cock.
he helps you ride out your high, your body falling limp on top of him. you rake your fingers up and down his arms, your lips placing soft kisses up the length of his neck and jaw.
steve exhales deeply, his arms wrapping around your waist as he whispers in your ear, “y’know, that wasn’t bad kid, but i still have a lot to teach. you’re mine now”
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STEVE TAGLIST: @rafeism @jjmaybankswifes-blog @moremaybank @unsaidjaelinrose @m-1234 @mel119g @softlilacarrest @fayerite @presleyanswrites @sierraluvz @halflifejess @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @superlegend216 @digitaldiary111 @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @buckyisveryhot @pradabambie
steve harrington masterlist | taglist form
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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 8 months
Text
Redemption
Pairing: SteveHarringtonxReader
Request: So, could you write one where you had a drunk hook up with Steve at one of his parties and it was bad? He sees you at a party at his place a few weeks later and wants to show you that he can do better?
18+ Only
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Leaning back against the wall, drink in hand, you surveyed the party crowd. Another Harrington three ring circus. The guy couldn't go more than a few weeks without having a rager at his place. And of course half the town had shown. Everybody wanted to be seen at Steve's party. It made them feel like one of the elite, a member of King Steve's court, even if he had graduated last year.
And then there was the man himself, making his way through the crowd, high fiving, grinning, the center of attention as usual. You rolled your eyes, unamused with his display. What an arrogant prick. 
Sure, he was gorgeous. I mean, who wouldn’t be attracted to those caramel eyes, those long lashes, that perfect fucking hair? You’d been. You’d been so attracted that you’d been dumb enough to wind up in bed with him a few weeks ago. 
You’d been a few drinks in, not drunk but feeling loose, uninhibited. He’d flashed you that smile, those glaringly white teeth, those eyes promising you the night of your life. Unfortunately for you, it had been anything but. You’d given him head and then he’d sloppily plowed into you before passing out, face buried in the pillow, snoring. It had not been the night of your life. It had been glaringly underwhelming considering the rumors you’d heard about him, considering the massive crush you’d harbored for him since freshman year.
Steve caught sight of you and was that a flush of embarrassment you saw on his cheeks? No. Couldn’t be. King Steve would never be so humble. He’d seemed fairly sweet when he started hitting on you a few weeks ago but he was clearly putting on an act just to get in your pants, and your dumbass had let him. 
He made his way over to you and you hesitated, wondering if you could duck out and away before he got to you. But you were crowded in on either side. Why the hell had you even come tonight? Stacy had insisted, saying Harrington’s parties were always a good time and you needed to let loose. You’d been quite frustrated and bitchy ever since the failed tryst. She didn’t know the whole reason you were nasty was the man having the party himself.
“Hey there,” he said, appearing sheepish but you reminded yourself that you knew better. The man hadn’t even called you after you’d slept together. “I was hoping you’d show tonight.”
“Yeah?” You crossed your arms, staring him down. “And why exactly is that?”
“Well, I was hoping we could talk.”
“About what exactly?”
Steve shifted uncomfortably, leaning into you, one arm propped on the wall next to your head, his voice lowered as he said, “Well, you know, about the other week. I mean, we had sex. Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, like talk or something?”
“If you wanted to talk, why didn’t you just call?”
He sighed, his head tilting, those soul searching eyes gazing into yours, “Honestly? I didn’t know if you’d want to talk to me.”
“I can’t understand why,” you huffed, sarcasm dripping off each word. You were angry, venom building up, wanting to gut him. “After giving me the night of my life.”
Steve winced, “Yeah, I know…look, I was really drunk that night. I was not at my best.”
“Really? I didn’t notice,” you spat, attempting to move around him, but his other arm came up, caging you in. 
“I was an asshole, okay? I know I was an asshole and I was not at my best, but I swear, I am so much better than that. If you’d just…would you give me a chance to actually give you the night of your life? I swear, you won’t regret it.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
“You heard that from drunk, sloppy Steve. This Steve is completely sober and I mean every damn word.” His fingers traced along your arm, shivers racing along your spine. “I swear, angel, I can do so much better. Give me a chance. Let me take care of you. I never got to see that beautiful face when you lost control.”
You inhaled sharply, clearing your throat, your center pulsing with need at his words. You knew this was stupid. You should just push him away, grab your shit, and go home but you weren’t going to. What was it about him? Why couldn’t you just walk away?
“Okay,” you challenged, leaning into him. “Show me what you got then.”
Steve smirked, confidence returned, as he took your hand and led you through the crowd of party-goers, many of them dancing, some of them wrapped around each other, making out. There were a few drink guys out by the pool, screaming and cannon balling in, grabbing girl and pulling them in the water. 
The rowdy sounds of the party faded as Steve led you into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He twisted the lock, the soft click echoing through the room, causing knots to form in your stomach. Anticipation built up inside you, hoping that this time would be everything you’d expected. 
Steve’s hands grabbed your waist, spinning you and pushing you back against the door. His nose ran over your cheek, traced your jaw, moved along the side of your neck and you shuddered at the simple contact. 
“You smell amazing,” he breathed, kisses pressed against your pulse point, tender skin sucked between his lips, teasing with his teeth. “You look amazing. From the moment I saw you a few weeks ago, all I could think about was touching you, running my hands over every inch of your body, finding out just how good you taste. I was so pissed when I realized I fucked up my chance.”
You groaned as he pulled the strap of your tank top off your shoulder, lips now exploring your collarbone, the dip in the middle, “Well, then don’t fuck it up again, Harrington. There won’t be a third.”
“Oh, I won’t, angel,” he growled, hands pulling at your tank top, lifting it over your head. His eyes devoured the sight of you, hands softly running over the fabric of your black lace bra. His lips fell to your chest, kissing the tops of your breasts as his fingers worked at the clasp, releasing it quickly, expertly, it ending up on the floor with your top. 
His mouth was everywhere, lips, teeth, tongue teasing, sucking, nibbling until you were gasping, hand buried in his hair, holding him against you. Fuck, if this was any indication, this night was going to end much differently than the last one. Already he had you throbbing, writhing, whimpering beneath his touch. 
He rose up straight, his lips finding yours, tongue exploring your mouth. You grasped at his shirt and he pulled away just long enough to yank it over his head. Your fingers immediately tangled in his chest hair, pulling gently and he groaned, cupping the back of your head and smashing his lips to yours, urgent and needy. 
“Steve…” you whispered as his lips traveled again, exploring. They moved between your breasts, along your stomach before he dropped to his knees in front of you, undoing your shorts and pulling them, along with your panties, down your legs. You lifted each foot, allowing him to remove them completely. 
His hand ran over your leg, down to your calf, gripping it and hooking it over his shoulder, opening you completely to him. You gazed down at him, biting your lip and he grinned, caramel eyes now dark with lust before he pressed his face against your center, nuzzling his nose in, inhaling deeply. 
“Fuck, angel…you’re even more perfect than I imagined,” he groaned, teeth sinking into your inner thigh, causing you to shriek, head slamming back against the door. “I used to watch you in those tiny skirts in class, crossing your legs, and I would picture what was between them. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
Your brain completely short circuited at his words. King Steve had fantasized about you in high school? That didn’t seem possible. You were trying to wrap your brain around the thought but then all thoughts vanished completely from your mind when his tongue ran over your folds, spreading you open. 
“So fucking good. So wet for me already,” he growled, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking on it like a lozenge. 
“Jesus Christ, Steve!” you yelped, hands slamming against the wood of the door. 
His tongue flicked, lips sucked, teeth raked until your were on the verge of tears, your orgasm coiling like a snake ready to strike. His fingers slipped through your slick and then he pressed two of them into you, pumping them rhythmically, his tongue never letting up its attention on your clit. 
“Oh my god…” you keened, hands flat against the door, trying to keep yourself upright as the muscles in your legs quivered, knees threatening to give out. 
“Not god…just a king,” he mused, burying his face, nose pressed against your clit as he shook his head back and forth, fingers curling within you, hitting a space no guy had ever found and you bit your lip so hard, you tasted blood. 
“Yes…just like that…oh shit…Steve…don’t stop…fuck!”
Your whole body shook with the tsunami of an orgasm that crashed down over you. Your vision went white and you began to slide down the door to the floor. Steve caught you, arms around your legs, creeping upward as he stood. He kept a firm grip on you as he kissed you soft and deep. 
“So…better than the last time?” he whispered against your ear.
“Fuck…so much better. Jesus Christ, that was amazing,” you gasped but then your hands were on his belt buckle, undoing it, quickly followed by the button and zipper on his jeans, pushing them over his hips. “But you still have more to make up for.”
“Hell yes,” he groaned, kicking off his pants and boxers, swooping you into his arms and onto the bed. He reached into his nightstand, pulling out a condom, ripping it open and rolling it on. 
You lay there, splayed out, watching him hungrily, eager for him to show you exactly what Steve Harrington could do because what he’d shown you already had been absolutely perfect. He placed his fists on the bed, crawling his way up to you, surprising you when he turned you onto your side, spooning you from behind. 
He gripped his cock, rubbing it over your folds, through your wetness and you moaned, pressing your ass back against him, eager for him to fill you. He used the tip to tease your clit, working you up until you were whimpering again, desperate for him. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he thrust up into you. 
“Oh shit…” you groaned, eyes rolling back in your head as he hit the deepest spaces within you, his cock bottoming out with each roll of his hips. “That’s so good.”
“Yeah? You like that?” he breathed in your ear, one hand gripping your hip, the other wrapping around your throat, pulling you flush against him, his coarse chest hair rubbing along your back as he rocked himself in and out of you again and again. 
“Yes, fuck yes.”
“Your pussy feels so good wrapped around me, angel. Fuck, you’re so damn wet,” grunted Steve, his fingers walking from your hip to between your thighs, teasing your clit once again. “I gotta make up for the last time, beautiful. I owe you another orgasm.”
“Jesus…” you whimpered, rolling your hips against his hands, causing you to come down even deeper on his cock each time he rocked forward.
“Keep doing that, angel. Fuck, feels so good,” he muttered, lips pressed against your shoulder. 
You continued to rock your hips, panting, sweaty, your bodies slipping along each other. That snake coiled up again quickly and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer, not with his cock hitting all the right places and his fingers playing you like a piano. 
“Steve…I’m gonna…I’m so close…”
His fingers gripped your chin, turning your head toward his, “That’s it, pretty girl. Cum for me. I want to see your face when I make you scream.”
“Oh Steve!” you screamed, white hot pleasure exploding from your center just as he grunted your name and rutted deep into you, his own orgasm taking control. 
“Fuck,” he muttered, body quivering behind you. He slipped from inside you, pulling the condom off and tossing it in the trash. Rolling onto his side, he propped himself up on his arm, smiling down at you, thumb running along your jaw. “So, did I make up for last time?”
“More than made up for it,” you panted, struggling to catch your breath, your body like melted ice cream on a hot summer day, useless. “Just give me a minute and then I’ll get my clothes and get out of here.”
“Get out of here?” he asked, one eyebrows raising. “Why the rush?”
You turned your head, brow furrowing, “I mean…this was just a hook up, right? I assume you want me to head out.”
“No. Maybe you missed the part where I pined for you all through high school. Now that I’ve got you in my bed, I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon.” He paused and there was that sheepish look again but you no longer thought he was putting it on. “I mean, if you want obviously.”
You pursed your lips, pretending to think about it, “Hmm…I mean, I guess I could hang around for a bit.”
Steve laughed, gathering you in his arms and pulling you against him, his nose gently running over yours, “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”
“Possibly, but you can handle it, your highness.”
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rustedhearts · 11 months
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everytime (steve harrington x fem!reader)
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summary: despite your break up two months ago, you can't seem to stay away from each other. when you need him, he's there. but how long can this really last?
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
♡ the steve collection ♡
tags: steve + reader are college age (early-mid 20s), alcohol consumption, angst, hurt/comfort-ish, reader may have a bit of a substance abuse issue (it's heavily implied), accidental casual dominance? (steve really just takes care of her)
"every time i try to fly i fall without my wings, i feel so small. i guess i need you, baby. and every time i see you in my dreams, i see your face, it's haunting me. i guess i need you, baby."
—everytime, britney spears (ethel cain cover)
hawkins, indiana 1999
For your first date, Steve took you to Harvey's: a little retro milkshake diner off the interstate with the soggiest salted French fries and the smoothest strawberry shake you'd ever had in your life. He kissed you against the tin wall, right beneath the neon crimson exit sign. He held your hand on the drive home and kissed your knuckles at stop signs. You're so fuckin' beautiful, he told you on your porch.
That was senior year, three years ago.
For your last date, Steve took you to Enzo's: the fanciest Italian restaurant in town with bitter sauce and crunchy breadsticks. He didn't kiss you on the way there, nor the way back. You barely looked each other in the eye during the entire meal. When the check came, Steve slid it into his lap and turned to your hand, limp and empty on the tabletop. This isn't working anymore...is it? he asked you.
That was two months ago.
Your relationship had been on the outs for a while. All you did was fight, and not the fun, witty banter you used to have. The arguments turned explosive: doors slamming, engines revving, broken picture frames. Steve accused you of flirting with every man you came in contact with. You accused him of insecurity and projection. The pair of you made a scene no matter where you went, and soon it became exhausting just to be in your presence. You were bitter and bitchy, no longer the sweet girl he loved to make giggle. You became resentful and mean, and he became passive and silent.
It wasn't working, and it hadn't been working for a while.
You moved out of the apartment and in with a friend from college, taking the tiny spare bedroom she'd been using for storage. Most of it lived in the closet now, but the space was yours. The move was difficult—you'd lived with Steve since the day after high school graduation. You were gonna get married. You were gonna move west to California when you were done with school and abandon Indiana together. The pair of you had dreams bigger than this town, and now that you had gone your separate ways, they felt out of reach.
But you hadn't really gone your separate ways, had you?
You spoke on the phone a few nights a week, murmuring in the darkness about your days. Though it always went unspoken, I miss you bled through every phone call. When he inevitably sighed, and the receiver crackled with his shuffling, you had to bite way tears. I should get to bed, he'd say, and he'd say it like an apology. You soaked your pillow, wishing you'd told him you loved him a little more than you did when you had the chance.
Because you always loved Steve, and you were certain you always would. Nobody had ever been so kind to you, so sweet and understanding. Steve saw you for who you were, and never wanted you to change. But you pulled away from him, pushed him out when he tried to get in. Nobody bothered to stick around as long as Steve did. And that scared you.
Now here you were, crying yourself to sleep.
♡ ♡
One thing you didn't lose in the breakup were your friends. They refused to pick sides, insisting that there was no need to choose one or the other when they could easily split their time. More often than not, you found yourself waving to Steve through Eddie Munson's apartment window as he got into his car and drove off—like switching shifts, alternating between your visits and Steve's. He'd wave back, a stiff palm in the air directed your way in the windshield, paired with a tight-lipped, solemn smile.
Tonight, Eddie was hosting a party with his girlfriend, Gwen, and you knew the crowd would be absent of Steve. The only reason Steve ever attended parties was because you wanted to. He much preferred staying in and reading, or going to dinner just the two of you. He hated crowds and loud music, the 'sloppy drunks and fuzzy potheads' as he called them. He hated Eddie's other friends, and he hated you around them. You were always a little too eager to guzzle alcohol and puff a joint—it was the topic of many of your arguments.
He wasn't wrong, and that's what pissed you off the most.
Because here you were, on your third rum and coke of the night, sipping from a tiny red straw and chewing on the plastic. Eyes hazy and rimmed pink, cheeks flushed with warmth, sweating down your spine. The apartment was crammed with people like sardines in a tin can, and you stumbled through them on your way to the kitchen for some sort of snack. There, you found Robin and Gwen leaning against the sink, eyeing you pitifully as you fell between them with a sigh.
"What's up, girls?" You were out of breath and slurring your words.
They shared a look over your head, cringing. "How many have you had, babe?" Gwen asked.
You hummed, rubbing at your eye and smearing glitter across your cheek. "Uh...like two? Three. Definitely three."
"Three and?"
You huffed, tipping your head back exasperatedly. "Three and, like, one fucking hit. How many have you had, Robin?"
Your tone was mean. It always got a little sharp and cruel when you had too much to drink. The words always came flying out before you could swallow them, and you always woke the next morning with a massive headache and a ball of regret the size of Canada sitting in your throat. You felt it, a pang of guilt stabbing your gut, when you saw your friends' faces fall. You felt it, wringing your heart like a wet washcloth when Steve would stomp off.
"Hey. We're just looking out for you," Gwen interjected, brows furrowing at your tone.
Your cheeks flamed, teeth digging into the fleshy interior of your cheek to stop the tears of humiliation from springing forth. You turned around shakily and took a warm cheese cube from the platter on the counter.
"I know. But I'm...I'm fine. Okay?"
The girls sighed, and Eddie came shuffling into the kitchen with a beer and a cigarette in hand. He wrapped an inked arm around Gwen's neck, pulling her in by the crook of his elbow to plant a loud kiss on the top of her head. She fit into his side and nuzzled his neck, smiling in greeting. You swallowed, throat coated with thick warning. You were going to cry, and you sure as fuck weren't gonna do it here.
"Hey, what's up, scholar?" Eddie asked you, smacking your arm playfully.
You refused to turn around, knowing if you did the whole kitchen would see your glossy eyes and wobbling lip. But this just made you mean again, and as you plucked more cheese from the counter and poked at limp peppers, you pulled in on yourself. Eddie turned to his girlfriend and Robin, who shook their heads dejectedly.
"You okay, honey?" Robin reached out to rub your arm, and you curled away to wave her off, keeping your face angled toward the floor.
"I'm fine. I just...I'm gonna...go wash my hands."
You hurried off, refusing to meet their eyes as you went. You staggered through a sea of people, dizzy and foggy-headed, struggling to breathe. Gwen and Eddie's bedroom was the last door on the left, and you burst into the room with an urgent gasp of breath. The door slammed after you, and you had half a mind to sink onto the floor and lie there for the rest of the night until you stopped crying—but then you saw the phone.
You didn't even think about it.
You knew the number by heart. You dialed the numbers like second nature, lifting the phone to your ear to cradle the cool plastic with shaky fingers. You sniffled to clear the snot, swiping at the tears dripping down your cheeks. The dial tone droned. Once, twice, three times. You sank onto the floor against the bed, leaning your head back against the soft mattress.
"Hello?"
You squeezed your eyes shut. "Stevie?"
It was quiet a moment, and then another soft sigh. "Honey...why are you callin' me? Is everything okay?"
His voice, so soft and smooth like it always was, felt like a security blanket. It wrapped around you, tendrils curling around your bones to hold them tight like he used to. And you wanted nothing more than to hear that voice murmuring in your ear, with his arms around you to keep you safe. Everything's been so off-kilter since he left. Since you left each other. Every day feels like finding your footing all over again. Naked and bare, you weren't sure which direction to go in unless he was there to guide you.
And as selfish as it sounded, you wanted him to guide you again.
"N-No. I'm so fucked up, Steve—it's so fucked up."
Shuffling crackled through the receiver, and you imagined Steve sitting up in bed and rubbing his tousled hair. He sounded tired when he spoke again. "You been drinkin', baby?"
You nodded, sniffling nosily. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Stevie."
Keys tinkled like wind chimes in the distance of the other line. "Where are you, honey? Hmm? Do you know?"
You sighed, snot rattling in the back of your throat. Your hand fell to the itchy carpet beneath your legs, rubbing your palm to scratch it. You hated how this sounded like a routine. Like he expected you to call, all fucked out and lost. You wished you were better for him.
"M' at Eddie's."
"Oh, okay," Steve sounded a little relieved. "Stay where you are, alright?" He was coming to you.
"Steve...you don't have t' come, m' sorry. M' sorry, just...I'm all over the place."
"I'll be right there."
The line clicked, and you carefully placed the phone back in the cradle. The tears started up again, full force and breathless. You gasped for air and hiccuped like an infant as you clawed your way onto the bed, sprawling out on your back. You were grateful the room was dark. You didn't want to see yourself like this.
You listened the songs change while you waited to calm your cries. The room hadn't stopped spinning, and your throat felt so tight. Your chest hurt with a hollow ache that hadn't gone away since your last night at Steve's. You slept in the same bed, facing opposite walls. In the morning, you slid your key across the table and kissed his cheek. He carried your boxes to the car and stroked your cheek with his thumb against the passenger door. He smelled like hazelnut coffee and sleep.
Four songs passed before you heard familiar voices murmuring outside the door.
"Jesus, Steve, you can't keep coming to rescue her," Robin huffed.
You wiped your cheeks, lips downturning. Tough love really hurt when it came from your closest friends.
"Mind your business."
"This is my business. I care about both of you, and this is just...this is unhealthy!"
"Get out of my fucking way, Buckley."
The door handle jiggled, and you turned your head to watch it open. A streak of yellow light sliced through the blue darkness of the room.
"You don't know shit," Steve muttered, and then he was standing in the room.
The thump of music became muffled by the door once more, light clamped off to return the pair of you to darkness. A strip of moonlight beaconed over his face as he stepped closer, hands in the pockets of his jeans. You could hear his keys jingling as he fidgeted. He tipped his head at the sight of you lying there.
"Hi," you whispered. It was the sweetest you’d sounded in months.
Steve swallowed, trying not to rush over and kiss you. He had to fight the urge each time he saw you, even in passing. It felt wrong to part ways without a kiss goodbye. Even when you fought, you always stopped to kiss each other before going to work or heading to bed. It became one of Steve's favorite habits. He felt empty without it.
"Hi," he murmured back.
You sniffled, carefully turning your head away to look toward the ceiling. You were disappointed to see it was still swirling. You suddenly wished you were sober. Maybe he'd see you differently.
"You didn't have to come."
Steve shrugged in your periphery. He was wearing one of those collared polos that you loved. Three buttons always left undone, tight white t-shirt underneath. You wanted him closer. You wanted to smell his cologne again.
"But I'm here."
You shuffled to your elbows, groaning softly. Something lurched in your stomach, coiled tight in your belly. You were gonna be sick, but you didn't want to be in front of Steve. Pushing off weakly on your palms, you sat upright and wiped your cheek, smearing more makeup in the process.
Steve inched closer, waiting for his cue to step in. It came when you stood and wavered on the carpet, reaching for a steady surface.
"Alright, easy, honey." He swooped in, arm wrapped around your waist to guide you toward the bathroom door.
He pushed it open and flicked on the light, propping you against the sink like a Barbie doll. With an open palm on your stomach, he kept you upright as he rummaged through the drawers for a rag. You played with the brown leather band of his watch as he ran the rag under warm water, a pout embedded on your mouth.
"Wanna hop up there f' me?"
You braced the cold counter with the heel of your palms, lifting on wobbly arms to sit on top. "Atta girl," Steve mumbled under his breath, and even in your bleary state you flushed with warmth.
Resting against the mirror, you watched Steve lather powder white soap onto the wet cloth until it bubbled, bringing two fingers under the pink cotton to wipe against your cheek. His eyes were steady on his own ministrations, watching his hand clean away the smeared mascara and tears.
Your eyes, however, could only focus on him. His big sad eyes, swampy green and brown flanked by long, curled lashes. The mocha-colored freckles grazing his cheeks and collarbone, sprinkled along his neck. The pout on his plump pink lips, taken between his teeth in concentration.
When he switched the cloth to the other cheek, you exhaled shakily and caught his wrist. His eyes flicked to yours, finally catching your gaze. He blinked, another one of those toothless, tight-lipped smiles breezing over his lips. It was painted with pity.
Wrapping both hands around the warmth of his forearm, you tipped your cheek into his palm and the soapy, damp cloth encompassed around it. Steve sighed, chest deflating beneath that handsome polo. In the fluorescents of the bathroom, he looked prettier than ever. You were smaller than he'd ever seen you, crumpled and disheveled.
"You drank too much again." He said it the way he orders a cheeseburger in the drive-thru: casual, predictable, cool. He expected this.
That's what always hurt you most.
Your mouth opened to utter a reply, but all that came was a shuttered breath. Your lip downturned, jutting out in a petulant pout that made him ache. He swiped two fingers, cool from the cloth and scented of clean soap, across your temple and into your hair, tucking it behind your ear.
"Just felt sad," you admitted lowly, rubbing your hand along his arm.
Steve placed his hand against your other cheek, suddenly cradling your face. His thumb made circles in your sticky skin—firm, tender, just the way you used to like it. Your eyes fluttered closed, head falling deeper into his hold.
"About what?" His voice was so soft, so small. The rest of the world fell away outside of his tiny, outdated bathroom.
You scoffed humorlessly, head shaking. You opened your eyes again as you fiddled with his watch. "You know what."
Steve's gaze rolled over your face, swollen and pink, stuck in a defeated frown. He wondered if you'd remember this in the morning, or if it'd be another night you fell fuzzy on.
"Yeah...yeah, I know, baby."
You huffed, breath hot and laced with liquor across his arm. "M' sorry. M' sorry I made you come out here, and...m' just...m' just sorry—"
"—hey, come on—"
"—no, Steve...m' a mess. Everyone's right about me."
The pads of Steve's fingers scratched at your scalp, and you hated how easily you purred like a kitten at his touch. Your neck craned, and if it weren't for his hand holding your head up, you might've lied down right there on the sink. Inebriation had its claws in you deep.
"Hey," he cooed, urging your head up with his wash-clothed hand. "Don't talk like that."
When you did nothing but continue to frown and sniffle, Steve sighed and steadied you upright. "C'mon, lemme finish cleanin' you up."
Your shoulders slumped, head bobbing gently. "Okay."
Steve chuckled, rubbing your other cheek with the soapy cloth. "Okay."
You were pliant to his pulling and prodding, allowing him to clean you without complaint. He tucked your hair behind your ears when your face was washed, and filled a Dixie cup with cool water for you to drink. He rested his hands on your bare knees as he watched you gulp it down, patting them when you were done.
"All done?"
You nodded, handing him the paper cup. He tossed it in the trash bin, nudging your chin up with two fingers. "Hey. You with me?"
You nodded again. "Mhm."
"I'm gonna take you home, okay?"
You grasped his hand, pushing your fingers through his. "Okay."
He helped you off the counter, but he didn't drop your hand. He held it as he guided you through the dark bedroom and into the hall, using it to pull you into his side to fit through the crowd. When you made it to the kitchen, you were stopped by your friends, and you pressed your head to Steve's firm back as their voices melded into a yell.
"Oh, fuck off, Munson, seriously, this is none of your business. Last I checked, our relationship only involved the two of us."
"What relationship? You broke up—weeks ago, by the way, in case you forgot—"
"—I didn't forget," Steve hissed, side-stepping and pulling you with him to avoid Eddie. "And for the last time, it’s none of your business.”
You peered back at the group of your friends huddled near the sink as Steve steered you toward the back door. You knew they were disappointed—you could see it in their empty eyes and pursed lips. You could see it in the way Gwen had to rub Eddie’s arm to calm him down. Because the two of you were making a mistake, and you’d never move on if you kept crawling back to each other every chance you got.
But maybe you didn’t want to move on, and maybe Steve didn’t either.
Steve took you home that night, and sat you on the end of the bed. He pulled your dress down your legs and replaced it with a big t-shirt: sunshine yellow, drenched in Steve. He tucked you under the blankets and kissed your head. And then he crawled in beside you, and held you the whole night.
He took you home, where you belonged: with him. And he didn’t know if you’d wake the next morning wondering where you were, or happy to see him nuzzled in your neck, but Steve was willing to roll the dice. For now, he could pretend this was how it always was, and that you never left.
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The Only Tally Mark
Ship: Steve Harrington x reader
Summary: The 'You Suck' tallies are getting pretty high, but there's a girl in Scoops Ahoy who knows Robin in wrong. If she can just get the courage to open her mouth, Steve's luck is about to change.
Word Count: 7,250 words
Warnings: Robin's a bit mean, she also has no filter, pining, Steve's failed flirting attempts, blatant staring/pining, implied confession, first kiss
Note: Set pre-s4 and the day Dustin comes back, before the Russian code is cracked.
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☟ Continue below the fold ☟
July had only just begun in Hawkins, and you could already tell it was going to be a hot one. Less than twenty-four hours in, temperatures had already hit record-breaking highs—at least, that was according to the weatherman on the television you were sat in front of, sweating and feeling relief from the heat only when the fan beside you swiveled back toward you.
“Every July is this hot,” your father said from the kitchen, where he was drinking his second glass of water in five minutes.
“Oh, sure, but never this early,” your mother retorted. “It’s only the first, and already we’re melting out of the house.”
Sensing an irritable argument birthed from the nearly unbearable heat, you left the living room and headed up the stairs to your bedroom. You picked up the phone you’d begged your parents to let you have years ago, dialing the number of your best friend of four years: Robin Buckley, the band dweeb to your theatre kid.
It was her mom who answered the phone, several dial tones later. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mrs. Buckley—is Robin home?”
“Oh, hi, sweetie! She’s at work right now, her shift ends at seven.”
You stopped yourself from swearing. “Oh, right, I forgot. Thank you!”
“No problem, dear,” Mrs. Buckley said before hanging up.
You leaned against the wall. How could you have forgotten? Robin had been telling you about her new job in the mall—and the sailor’s uniform she had to wear. You’d seen her get ready for work once and had burst into giggles the moment she put the hat on her head.
You glanced at the digital clock next to your bed, checking the time. There was still several hours before the mall closed. You might as well visit Robin and abuse your friendship to get some free ice cream at the same time, right?
So you grabbed your wallet and shoved it in your pocket and bounded down the stairs.
"Hey, I'm going out!" you shouted to your parents.
"Where do you think you're going, young lady?" your father asked, appearing in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen.
"To the mall? Robin works there and I'm going to visit."
"Don't spend too much, dear!" your mother called.
"Sure, Mom!"
You hopped in your car and headed for the mall, following the thick cluster of traffic that always lined the streets leading to the mall, passing through the streets lined with empty, hollow shops.
~❊~
The mall was crowded, as busy as it had always been since the day it opened. You pushed your way through the crowds gathered around storefronts and display windows, trying to remember which floor Scoops Ahoy was on.
You took the escalator down to the first floor and scanned the shops surrounding you. When you spotted the sign for the ice cream store, you headed toward it, maneuvering past a group of pre-teens cackling about manipulating the store's workers into giving them free samples.
There was no one at the counter when you walked in. A majority of the tables were occupied by groups of teens. As you approached the register, you could hear faint bickering from behind the pebbled glass windows, Robin's distinct voice floating out to you.
"...do the job you're supposed to do, I've been scooping so much ice cream my hand's cramped," she was saying.
You stifled a giggle and tapped your hand lightly against the bell in front of you, wincing when it was a little louder than you had been expecting.
The swing door on the left opened with a bang, revealing the back of a boy who was gesturing at Robin, who was quite literally pushing him out the door. She disappeared before you could catch her attention, and the other attendant took up his place in front of the register.
"Ahoy, sailor! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I'll be your captain, I'm Steve Harrington."
You blinked at him. "Is that company policy like the hat and the outfit?"
He stared at you. "I'm sorry, what?"
You shrugged. "I'm a friend of Robin's, she complains about the, and I quote, stupid company rules that make everyone look stupid."
He stared at you. You stared at him. Awkward silence settled between the two of you.
The introduction hadn't been necessary. You had spent most of your high school experience listening to Robin complain about Steve Harrington and his stupid perfect hair and his stupid easy charm and his stupid actual stupidity. The Steve she'd painted matched up perfectly with the kid you'd seen around in the halls, dressed in his ironed polo shirts and pleated khakis or that stupid basketball uniform and letterman jacket—and Nancy Wheeler on his arm.
You and Robin had watched his life crash and burn with malicious glee—and all the while you had tried to ignore that this was the very same boy you'd crushed on in middle school, and had been so shocked to find out had changed so much when you got to the high school, a year after he did.
Steve cleared his throat, his gaze dropping to the register, firmly away from you. "Um. What can I get you?"
"Uh..." Every ice cream flavor you had ever liked instantly disappeared from your head. It wasn't like the usual mind-blankness that came from being asked a question about your favorite anything. It was like your entire body had stopped, freezing in the pretty face of Steve Harrington, ridiculous as the uniform was. Especially with the hat, which Robin hadn't told you about.
The door swung open again. "Jesus, Steve, what's taking you so damn long?" Robin froze where she stood. A smile lit up her face. "What are you doing here?!"
You grinned. "Visiting!"
Robin hip-checked Steve out of the way. Steve glared at her while she grabbed the ice cream scoop from the pocket at his side.
"Jesus, do you have to be so brutal?" he snapped.
Clearly fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Robin turned back to Steve. "I'm sorry, would you please get out of the way so I can serve my best friend? Thanks," she said, her customer service smile plastered to her face.
Muttering under his breath, Steve pushed away from the counter, leaning on the sill of the window behind him. He crossed his arms, still staring resolutely at the floor.
Robin grinned at you. "I wasn't expecting you to—"
"Be here?" you finished. "I called your house before I realized you were working, so I thought I might as well come visit."
"Glad you did," she said. "You would not believe how much of a headache it is working with dingus over there."
You glanced over her shoulder at Steve, his pink lips forming a pissy pout. Oh, yeah. Still pretty, still a bitch.
"You didn't tell me you worked with him," you said under your breath.
Robin shrugged, shooting you a knowing smile. "Yeah, well, I knew you'd show up and find out for yourself eventually." Her eyes slid to the corners, as if she could see Steve sulking behind her. "We'll talk about him later. What ice cream do you want? On us."
You giggled. "How did I know you'd say that?"
She snorted. "Oh, so you're abusing our friendship for free ice cream?"
"Maybe," you said. "Just this once."
Robin rolled her eyes and grabbed an ice cream cone. "Here—I'll grab your favorite."
And, without you needing to remind her, she lowered the scoop into the tub of ice cream that you got every time the two of you had gotten ice cream after going to see a movie, back before the mall. You wondered how you could have forgotten, until you looked over Robin's shoulder again and found Steve looking up, lips parted and eyes fixed on you. The minute you caught his gaze, he blushed and looked away.
You took advantage of his embarrassment, admiring the pink in his cheeks and how he awkwardly licked his lips. He toyed with the watch on his wrist, crossed and uncrossed his legs. Was he nervous? An even better question—had you ever seen Steve Harrington nervous before?
While you studied Steve, Robin made a second cone of ice cream, a different flavor than yours.
Robin looked behind her. "Hey—man the counter, will you? I'm going on break."
Steve spluttered. "You just came back from break!"
"No, we just finished our lunch break. I still have my federally-required thirty minutes to take. So I'm gonna take 'em." She shoved the scoop at Steve's chest and stepped out from behind the counter.
The pair of you took an unoccupied table near the counter, in case she was needed.
"Should you be leaving him to do it by himself?" you asked, glancing back at Steve one last time.
"What, are you worried about him? He'll be fine," Robin said. She shrugged with a sigh. "He's...he's not as bad as we thought he was in high school. He's less of a douche now, at least."
"Just a dingus?" you asked with a smile.
She nodded. "He's still as stupid as we always thought."
You turned your attention away from Steve at toward your ice cream. "Why didn't you tell me he worked with you?"
She rolled her eyes. "Let's not have that conversation while he's here, okay? For your dignity's sake. I know he's far away, but he's got impressive hearing." She shrugged. "Blame it on four years of listening for gossip, I guess."
Your gaze shifted back to Steve as he raked a hand through his hair, stretching enough for his shirt to lift. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you crossed your legs. Now that he wasn't surrounded by assholes who mocked you and Robin and your friends for their own personal entertainment, it was easier to appreciate how he'd grown into himself since middle school. Taking care of himself had made him a whole new level of handsome.
Robin giggled. "Yeah—that's why we're not gonna talk about this while he's around. You still have a thing for him, don't you?"
Steve relaxed against the countertop, fixing his hair and putting the hat back on with a scowl. You cleared your throat.
"I was hoping you'd forgotten about that."
"Me? Forget about you having the most embarrassing crush on him for years? Only to get to high school and find out he'd become a dick? Never."
You groaned. "Oh, stop rubbing it in!"
A gaggle of girls walked into the store, four of them giggling and talking and rolling their eyes. Immediately, Steve stood up a little straighter and fiddled with his uniform.
Robin snorted. "Oh, watch this. He's been failing catastrophically with every girl that walks in. I keep count."
"You keep count?"
She nodded gleeful, pointing with her chin in the direction of the counter.
"Ahoy, ladies!" Steve said, leaning on the counter. His attempt to be attractive failed dismally, however, when his hand slipped off the side and he lost both his balance and his composure for a moment.
One of the girls giggled with her friend. Steve's cheeks darkened.
"I'm Steve Harrington, I'll be your captain on this ocean of flavor. What can I get you lovely ladies today?"
You glanced at Robin. "I don't see what he's doing wrong."
"That's because this is scripted," Robin whispered back.
The first girl stepped forward. "One scoop of chocolate and one of vanilla, please."
Steve tried a debonaire smile. "Oooh, classic, I like it. I'm all for vanilla myself, you know, all the time."
You winced. "Was...was that supposed to be a double entendre?"
"Yep," Robin said, popping the p with a smirk.
"I see what you mean now," you said. The girl was making a face that said she caught Steve's drift and found it rude. Steve cleared his throat and moved on, scooping ice cream into a cone and handing it to her with a mortified whisper of "here you go." His gaze flicked over to you and Robin, at which point his mortification seemed to grow.
You watched the exchange grow steadily worse. Steve stumbled over his words and tripped over his feet and dropped an empty cone twice. Customers who had already gotten ice cream became onlookers who left, one by one, as the secondhand embarrassment grew.
"God, he's hopeless," you whispered. "Whatever happened to the Steve in high school?"
"You mean the one with a new girl on his arm every week? I'd say that stopping can be blamed on one Nancy Wheeler," Robin said.
You rolled your eyes. "While they were dating, obviously. But now? One relationship shouldn't make him incapable of flirting with a girl."
Robin watched the girls leave, snickering behind their hands. A moment later, Steve groaned, wiping a hand over his face. "You know what I think his problem is?"
"What?"
"He's trying to flirt all of them into submission, not just one girl he likes out of the group."
You nodded slowly. "Sounds about right. I mean...if he flirted with me one minute and then you the next, I don't think I'd want to jump his bones, exactly."
Robin rolled her eyes. "What are you talking about? You've always wanted to jump his bones."
"That was middle school, and that was before any of us gave a shit about sex."
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," Robin teased. "I saw how you looked at him during gym class."
You shrugged, trying to hide your face behind your hair. Robin knew your expressions better than anyone; your embarrassment was going to be obvious the minute she caught sight of you. "It's gym class! Guys don't wear shirts ninety percent of the time, they practically invite girls to stare." Your gaze slid back to Steve, who was once again staring at the floor. His cheeks were still red, and that pretty mouth of his had once again formed a pout. "Jesus, I don't think I've ever seen him so...despondent."
"He's like that at least five times a shift," Robin said. She played with a small red plastic spoon she had pulled from her pocket. "You know... You could come work here with us. Then you'd get to see Steve every day."
"Robin, you're constantly complaining about how much you hate working your, and I quote, pitiful minimum wage job."
"Yeah, but you like Steve, and eye candy makes the day go by faster."
You swatted her arm discreetly. "Don't objectify him!"
She rolled her eyes. "Hey, Steve!"
Steve looked up so quickly you swore you heard his neck crack, even with some distance between your table and the counter. "What?"
"Come convince her to work with us!"
You glared at her. "Robin, I already have a summer job!" you protested, trying to stop your heart from racing as Steve approached the two of you. You looked anywhere but him, knowing a soft smile and a well-timed flutter of his eyelashes was all it would take for Steve to convince you to do anything he asked.
Steve pulled a chair from the other table for two next to you, spinning it unnecessarily in his hand and dragging it to the edge of your table. He straddled it, leaning his arms against the backrest. Your heart climbed into your throat.
Steve's eyes met yours and every thought melted from your brain. Brown had never been such a pretty color. Although his eyes weren't just brown, they were hazel, mottled with soft greens and blues and greys. You'd never seen such beautiful eyes before, so expressive and kind and interested and attentive and—
"Tell her why she should come work with us," Robin said, breaking your focus on Steve's eyes.
You rolled your eyes. "Robin, I already have a job," you repeated. "A job I like that pays well that I can work at year-round."
Steve snorted, shaking his head absentmindedly. "Then don't come here, that's for sure. The pay is shit, the job is just as bad, and nobody likes ice cream in the winter."
Robin glared at him. "What part of convincing her do you not understand?"
Steve shrugged, ignoring her. "But, then again, you'd get to work with Robin and you might alleviate my boredom from dealing with her all the time." He jerked his head toward Robin. "You wouldn't believe how mean to me she is."
You stifled a giggle as Robin huffed. An easy grin reminiscent of the king he once as slid across Steve's face. You felt slightly giddy, knowing you had been the one to put it there.
More people walked into the store and Robin shot to her feet. "Come on, dingus. We have a job to do." She dragged him to his feet, ignoring his hiss of complaint. He shot you an apologetic shrug as she pulled him behind the register again.
While the two of them got back to work, you sat back in your booth table and finished your ice cream. Once you were done, you discreetly snuck out of the store, leaving a note for Robin at the counter promising to call her after her shift.
As you wrote the note and taped it to the register, you failed to notice Steve pause where he was scooping ice cream to watch you, or that his gaze stayed on you until you left the store and Robin had to snap him out of his reverie.
~❊~
Though it seemed utterly impossible, the next day was even hotter than the last. You lasted all of two hours at the community pool before you got tired of the screaming children and moms flirting with Billy Hargrove and you went home.
You changed out of your bathing suit, dressing more consciously than you had since the eighth grade semi-formal. You selected your jewelry carefully before hopping in your car and heading to the mall for a second time that week.
Scoops Ahoy was significantly less busy when you walked in. Robin looked half-asleep where she stood at the counter, but she brightened when you walked in.
"You just couldn't stay away, could you?" she asked, leaning on the counter with a grin.
You shrugged. "It's hot, ice cream is a solution."
She studied you for a moment. "The pool didn't solve that?"
You scoffed. "Hell no. It's full of tiny children and middle-aged moms and girls who only go so they can take up space and stare at Billy."
"And there's no Steve there, is there?" Robin teased.
You rolled your eyes. "No," you admitted. "Or you."
Robin scooped your ice cream and passed it to you over the countertop. "He'll be back soon, his break ends in a minute. He went to go grab us food."
"He what?"
Robin shrugged. "Yeah, he does that a lot. I hate to say it, but he's actually a nice guy. I think we might have been wrong about him."
You grinned. "So I was right back in middle school! I told you."
Robin rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you did." She cleared her throat. "Behind you."
You heard Steve's footsteps approaching a split second before he said, "Hey, you're back! Applying?"
Turning to face him, you snorted. "Absolutely not. I'm here for ice cream and ice cream alone."
Steve frowned. "What are we, chopped liver?" he asked, gesturing between himself and Robin.
"I'm surprised you know that phrase," Robin said.
Steve made a face. "I do know some things, Robin." He turned back to you. "I told you she's mean to me."
You laughed. "She's mean to everyone sometimes, it's nothing personal."
"Yes it is, dingus," Robin said, and you remembered she had plenty of reasons aside from Steve's years mocking her and her friends to be angry with him.
You just shrugged at him when Steve looked at you for guidance. He copied your shrug and passed Robin a plastic bag that smelled heavenly.
"If I'd known you were coming to visit, I would have gotten you something," Steve said apologetically.
"Oh, it's fine," you promised. "I've got ice cream." He smiled at you, his laughter shining through. "Honestly, I'm surprised you two don't exist off of ice cream."
"We used to," Robin said.
Steve nodded. "It got pretty tiring after a week. It's like when they told us in health class that energy from sugar doesn't last very long. Or something like that."
Robin squinted at him. "You can't remember enough of high school to get to college, but you can remember health class?"
"I remembered enough to graduate," Steve mumbled, cheeks turning pink once again. You were starting to get used to Steve's embarrassment. It was as cute as he always was.
"Stay and eat with us," Robin said, turning back to you. "I'll split my fries with you. You did remember the fries, didn't you, dingus?"
"Of course I remembered the fries," Steve snorted. He dropped the Closed for lunch! sign on the counter and held the swinging door open for you. You thanked him as you walked by, aware of his eyes following you.
You sat in the seat Robin pulled out for you and finished your ice cream before stealing some of the previously offered fries.
"I think we're closing early, Robin," Steve said, glancing out the cracked window. "We've had, what, three people all day?"
"Four if you count the Radio Shack employee across the way," Robin said. "But I don't, because they get it for free."
You frowned. "Do I not count as a customer because you give me ice cream for free?"
Steve shook his head a bit too quickly. "No, you count, Robin just doesn't like the Radio Shack employees."
"Because they're rude," she complained. "They complain about everything and change their minds three times—but always after you've already started scooping, and even when you're done, they don't like it!"
"Sounds like a regular day in customer service," you said, feigning cheerfulness.
"Yeah, a shitty day," Robin said.
"Where do you work?" Steve asked. "I don't think I've ever asked."
"The record store down on Main," you said.
"You know, the one I said I had been planning on working at," Robin said. "But Scoops hired faster."
"Maybe we should switch jobs," Steve muttered.
Robin snorted. "Yeah, like that'll go over well."
"The store won't hire more people, anyway," you cut in. "It got rid of most of the staff, especially the new people, to cut costs because of the mall."
"Is there a record store in here?" Steve asked.
"No, but there is a Sam Goody and a Camelot Music in the mall. We used to have a partnership with the Sam Goody on Main, but then it closed due to the mall, and we started losing business to the one in the mall." You sighed. "I hear about it all the time. It's all the owner ever talks about these days."
Steve munched on a fry, staring at you as you spoke. His eyes were stuck firmly on you. You tried not to squirm under his intense gaze.
Robin leaned back in her chair. "One of these days, I'm gonna visit you at work instead."
You rolled your eyes. "If you ever have a day off," you said.
"Kinda hard to have a day off when we're the only two working here," Steve said.
You nodded. "The constant problem of being short staffed."
"That would be solved if you just came and worked here," Robin muttered into her wrap. You rolled your eyes again, stealing another one of her fries.
"No, Robin."
Robin harrumphed and took a bite of her sandwich more viciously than twas strictly required.
Steve faked a pout. "You just really don't like us, do you?"
"She doesn't," Robin agreed, smirking. You knew that smirk; she was going to do her best to guilt trip you—using Steve, which was perhaps the only way to guilt you into doing what she wanted.
You rolled your eyes. "It's got nothing to do with you, I promise."
"Ouch," they said in unison.
You frowned. "What are you, the same person?"
They both shrugged.
"Alright, that's just weird," you sighed. You glanced down at your watch. "How long does your lunch break last?"
"Thirty minutes. Why?" Steve asked.
You shrugged. "Wouldn't want you to get fired because I'm here distracting you."
Steve propped his head up on his hand. Stray curls of hair fell into his face. Your heart twisted in your chest. He was beautiful. How could he be so beautiful?
Robin watched as you and Steve stared at each other. You were aware of her gaze bouncing back and forth between the two of you, observing the way you were melting under his gaze, your lips parting the longer he looked at you, the barriers you'd put up slowly crumbling. Steve was no better, staring at you with open, asking eyes. He moistened his lower lip with his tongue and it took everything in you not to whimper.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the look on Robin's face—the look of disgust that crossed her face every time she was disgusted by public affection from straight couples. Your heart did flips at the sight of her expression.
"Would you guys stop that?" she groaned, getting up from her seat.
"Doing what?" Steve asked, still looking at you. You tore your eyes away from him and back to the half-empty container of fries.
"Making eyes at each other," she said. Steve spluttered, instantly losing the lovey look in his eyes.
"Making eyes— Robin, what are you talking about?"
You cleared your throat. "Hey, um, what's the board for?" You hoped your question would steer the conversation away from the feeling bubbling in your chest at the sight of Steve.
Steve groaned, hiding his face in his hands.
"I told you I was keeping score of Steve's failing dating life. This is my scoreboard."
You nearly choked. "You keep track of it on a whiteboard at work?!" You looked at the neatly drawn board, the 'You Rule' and 'You Suck' columns divided by a line.
"Actually, I have to put the one from yesterday on here."
Steve groaned again, cheeks burning very red. He looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and stay there.
You watched her add a line. "Robin..."
"She's right, I suck," Steve sighed. "My luck's been pretty shit recently."
"You don't suck, she's just being mean," you said. You sent her a look, shaking your head slightly. She just shrugged.
"You don't have to be nice about it," he said. "I know how bad I am at this. I haven't gotten laid in months."
"Okay, too much information, Steve," you said with a little laugh.
"Oh, so this suddenly isn't a safe place to talk about all our life troubles?" he teased.
You laughed fully. He smiled, and the room seemed to light up with the glow emanating from him.
"Get a room," Robin groaned.
Steve turned around. "I'm not flirting, Robin!"
"Yeah, right," Robin smirked. "It's just working this time."
You coughed. "I, um, I have to go."
They both turned back to you, as if they'd forgotten that you were even there.
"Shit, hang on," Steve started, but Robin cut him off.
"No, wait, I didn't mean it like that—" Robin said, realizing she'd practically told Steve you liked him.
"Yeah, right, I know, I just have, uh..." You fumbled for an excuse for a minute. "I have to go drive a friend home! I'll call you later, Robs!" You rushed out the swinging door just as the bell at the counter rang.
Steve pushed his hands through his hair. "Shit."
"Oh, no," Robin whispered. "Steve, ignore that, ignore all of that, I screwed up, I shouldn't have said anything, she's going to be so pissed. It's just that she's liked you since middle school and it's gotten worse now that you're not a douchebag—" Robin clapped a hand over her mouth.
"I won't tell her you said that," Steve said quietly. "Oh, Jesus, Robin..."
"I'm sorry—"
"Stop apologizing to me," Steve said. "If you hadn't said anything, I never would have realized."
Robin made a face. "See, that's why you suck, not because you're bad at flirting with girls. You've just been flirting with the wrong ones, because you're oblivious of the ones that actually like you."
Steve was quiet for a moment. "Yeah. Thanks for pointing that out." He peered out the window, watching you leave the mall, wiping at your eyes and pushing your hair out of your eyes.
Simultaneously, Steve and Robin whispered, "Shit."
At the counter, Erica Sinclair tapped the bell again. "Hello? I want some samples!"
They shouted, "Shut up!"
Steve slammed the glass doors shut.
~❊~
Steve unlocked his front door, stepped inside his house, and put his back to the closed door. He slid down the door with a heavy sigh.
"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath. All he had been able to see since you left Scoops was your stricken face, horrified and embarrassed that Robin had spilled your biggest secret. (Which Robin had told him after, in bits and pieces, while they closed up the store.)
Steve couldn't believe it. How had he never noticed? Granted, he hadn't been the most observant for, well, the majority of his life. And his middle school years had been fairly dull, unmemorable. But wouldn't have noticed if you—you, out of everyone in Hawkins Middle—had been crushing on him?
To his utter shame, the most Steve remembered of you in middle school was how you had been a good friend to him, long before any of his high school friends knew who he was, and that he'd ditched you once he got to high school. You'd helped him study a few times, too. He wasn't sure what year it was, but he knew you'd helped him pass both English and History in the same year.
He'd shared a handful of classes with you, too, when classes had been so small they'd mixed grades. Sixth grade science, when the two of you had worked on a minor chemical project together. In seventh grade, you'd had two classes together. Gym, which had been downright brutal so early in the morning, especially when the teachers split up the teams as boys against girls. He remembered you had gotten nailed in the head with a basketball once, and that he'd been asked by your teacher to take you to the nurse. Then there had been math class, where he'd sat behind you, asking you questions and begging you to explain the concepts he didn't understand—even though you didn't understand it much more than he did. Eighth grade history, where Steve had done a presentation on his grandfather's experience in the World War, and you had been the only to actually raise your hand to ask a question.
Steve got up from the door and went up to his bathroom, stripping out of his uniform to take a shower. While the water soaked his hair and skin, warming him up, Steve's mind turned back to you—not that it had ever really left you.
You had been his first crush. Well, his first real crush. You'd been pretty, even when you were young and curious and a year younger than he was. Most of his friends had said that the younger girls were cute, but embarrassing to like. So Steve hid that he liked you. It wasn't until Nancy in high school, when it became cool, that he dated anyone younger than himself.
He wished he'd said something to you then. Would it have saved him a world of hurt? Or would it just have been an even worse broken heart waiting for him?
Steve recalled the way you had looked at him earlier, your eyes practically sparkling and your lips stretching into a gorgeous, content smile. It had stopped his heart to know that he was the reason you looked so happy, that he had brought that smile to your lips and that he had made those smile lines around your eyes appear and that he had been the reason your pupils were blown wide.
Steve shut off the shower and pulled on a new pair of boxers, flopping onto his bed with a content sigh, which matched the happy smile on his face.
You liked him.
Feeling like a teenage girl, Steve rolled until he could hide an excited squeal in his pillow.
You liked him again.
Steve was certain that's what made him so giddy. You'd liked him before he'd become King Steve, before the popularity made him interesting—and you liked him again, now that he'd changed and learned and grown up. Now that he'd learned to be himself without a care in the world for anyone else's opinion.
It was like redemption, but it felt so much better than that.
A sudden feeling overwhelmed Steve.
The next time he saw you, he needed to tell you how he felt about you. He needed to make it clear that Robin's slip-up had not ruined the slow banter, the friendship the two of you had been dancing around.
Resolved, his thoughts stopped spinning. He turned off the lamp on his nightstand and shut his eyes.
Please come back tomorrow, he thought, before falling into a gentle sleep, full of dreams of romanticized meetings, confessions, and kisses.
~❊~
You avoided Scoops for several days, choosing to tough out the warm weather in the overcrowded community pool until your mortification subsided. Robin had called repeatedly to assure you Steve wasn't weirded out or annoyed or embarrassed by your crush on him. In fact, she almost made it sound as if he was pleased by it.
But you still couldn't make yourself go to Scoops Ahoy. Even the mental image of walking in and seeing Steve's face twist with some kind of disgust made your stomach twist.
But a girl could only take so much of Billy Hargrove. So, after nearly a week, you drove to the mall instead of the pool. It still took you nearly ten minutes to force yourself out of your car.
You had thought seeing Steve and Robin in their sailor uniforms had been strange, but there was a far stranger sight directly ahead of you: Robin at the counter, staring in absolute confusion, and Steve jumping with joy at the sight of the small child in the front of the store.
"Henderson!" Steve's smile was huge. The sight made you smile, albeit a bit more confused. "Henderson! He's back, he's back!"
"I'm back! You got the job!"
"I got the job!"
And then, just when you thought this strange scene could not get any weirder, Steve mimed playing a trumpet and both he and the child did a strange miming handshake, giggling all the while.
Robin leaned forward. "How many children are you friends with?"
Steve's overjoyed smile slipped from his face. He gestured to Robin with a strained look on his face, as if he were signaling See what I have to deal with?
"You mean there's more children?" you asked, walking up to them with a shy smile, almost embarrassed to make your return. Your stomach dipped as Steve turned to you, but his smile was back.
"Hey, you're back!" Steve said. "I thought we'd never see you again!"
You shrugged. "Yeah, well, I got tired of Billy flirting with me."
"Max's brother?" the child asked.
You stared at him. "I don't know who that is. Or who you are, actually."
"Oh, I'm—"
"This is Dustin," Steve interrupted. "Dustin Henderson. He's, uh, he's one of my friends." He went behind the counter and started making an ice cream sundae.
You gave Dustin your name and offered him your hand. "Pleasure to meet you."
"How do you know Steve?" Dustin asked.
At the same time, both you and Steve pointed to Robin. She waggled her fingers at him.
"I'm going on break," Steve said, handing the sundae to Dustin. "Your turn to man the counter. Come on, Dustin, my treat!"
The two of them slipped into a booth. You leaned against the countertop with a heavy sigh.
"There's like...five or six of them," Robin said. "Kids, I mean. That he's friends with."
"Jesus," you muttered. "How old are these kids?"
"Like...thirteen, maybe?"
"Oh, boy."
Robin giggled. "Looks like you gotta share your man with children now."
You choked. "He's— He's not my man, Robin!" you hissed, your entire body burning. You glanced at Steve, but he was too engrossed in whatever story Dustin was telling him.
"But that's why you're here, isn't it?" Robin asked. "You came back because you're ready to talk to him again, knowing that you like him and he likes you."
You glanced over at Steve. While you observed him, Robin slipped out from behind the counter, quietly humming to herself as she worked.
"Yeah, I mean, sure," he was saying to Dustin. "It's not really a good idea for me though, gotta keep in shape for the ladies." Was it just your imagination, or did his eye stray over toward you?
"Yeah, and how's that working out for you?" Robin teased.
"Ignore her," Steve said quickly.
"She seems cool," Dustin said.
"She's not," Steve said, even quicker. "But, uh, the girl you just met? She's cool. She's really cool." A smile tugged at your lips. You pushed it away as you looked down at the floor, completely missing Steve's lovestruck glance toward you.
Dustin, however, missed nothing, and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really, Steve?"
Steve cleared his throat. "Anyway. So, uh, where are the other knuckleheads?"
"They ditched me yesterday," Dustin said.
"No," Steve said, his face falling. Your heart squeezed at the sight of his empathy. The Steve from high school never would have cared about a kid whose friends had abandoned him, but this Steve did.
"My first day back! Can you believe that shit?"
"Whoa, seriously?!" Steve demanded, incredulous. Your heart warmed once again.
You turned back to Robin. "In answer to your earlier question," you said under your breath, "yes, that is exactly what I'm here to do."
She giggled. "I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!" She paused. "Was Billy Hargrove really flirting with you?"
You nodded. "I guess he doesn't really care about high school social status, as long as he gets laid." You shuddered. "I've never felt more objectified in my life, and I pranced around on stage in fishnets and a bodysuit in front of the entire school last year during Chicago!"
"I'm still convinced that was our best show," Robin said.
"I'd like to know how we got the rights to it," you snorted.
"I'd like to know how we convinced Principal Higgins to let us perform it."
You snorted. "Yeah. Has anybody heard anything about next year's shows?"
"Nothing yet," Robin said.
You harrumphed, your gaze sliding back to Steve and Dustin and found them talking in hushed tones. Steve's face was fixed into an expression of embarrassed confusion.
"Oh, got customers, hang on," Robin said, and served them while you moved off to the side, watching Dustin speak behind his hand. Steve just blinked at him and told him to speak up.
"I intercepted a secret Russian communication!" Dustin said, far too loudly.
The entire store went quiet. You and Robin exchanged a glance.
"Jesus, shhhh!" Steve hissed. "Yeah, okay, that's what I thought you said."
Business as normal resumed and Robin's customers headed for their own table.
You cleared your throat. "Well, I guess I should head out—"
"No, no, no, wait! What about Steve?"
"He's busy, Robs," you said, gesturing to him. Your stomach did flips at the cute, teasing little expression on his pretty face as you caught him saying American heroes. You weren't sure you wanted to know what mischief they were getting into. "I'll just...come back tomorrow."
Robin sighed. "Fine. As long as you let me play matchmaker!"
You rolled your eyes. "You've been doing that for the past, what, four years?"
"Yeah, but this time I might actually be successful!"
You shook your head with a smile. "Catch you later, Robin. Bye, Steve!" you added as you walked past.
Steve's head snapped up. He scrambled up from his seat at the booth. "Hey, wait, wait, where are you going?" He caught your arm and your eyes darted to his fingers on you. Every possible excuse was wiped from your head. "I thought you were gonna stay and...hang out for a little while."
You smiled apologetically. "Yeah, I was going to, but your friend just came back, so I figured I'd just come back another time. So you don't have to...divide your already divided attention, y'know?" You gestured back to the counter.
Though there was understanding in Steve's eyes, he still looked disappointed. "Oh...um... Would you—" He cleared his throat, his cheeks gaining a deep pink shade. "Would you maybe wanna hang out together—" He stopped again. "Would you wanna go on a date? With me? Sometime?"
You couldn't stop the smile that stretched across your face. "When?"
"Oh, you know, whenever you want? If you want to, I mean."
You stopped his rambling with a finger against his lips. His eyes widened. "I want to, Steve. I really, really want to. I always have."
He beamed. "Really?"
"Really," you promised. You patted his chest. "Even in this stupid little uniform."
He laughed. "What do you say to...two days from now? Meet me here at the end of my shift so Robin can make fun of us like always—" You laughed with him. "—and then we can go see a movie?" His thumb caressed the skin of your arm. That single touch alone sent butterflies through your stomach, not to mention the beautiful, sappy look in his eyes.
"I'd like that," you said. "I'd like that a lot."
"And, um, if you'd like, there's a little dinner about ten minutes from here with awesome milkshakes we could go to after."
You beamed. "Oh, Steve."
"Yeah?"
"You're absolutely perfect," you said to him, cupping his cheek and smoothing your fingers over his skin. He hummed happily. "Steve?"
"Hmm?"
"Can I... Do you... Can we kiss? I know it's soon, it's just... I've wanted this for a long time."
Steve beamed. He leaned in, cupping the back of your head and pulling you into him. His lips touched yours, and you swore your body crackled with electricity. A feeling similar to pins and needles, but far more pleasant, spread throughout you.
He made to pull away. You brought both your hands to his cheeks and held him to you, kissing him for all you were worth.
In the booth, Dustin's mouth dropped open. A grin spread across his face.
At the counter, Robin, who couldn't see the kiss but saw your hands slide into Steve's hair, pulled out her whiteboard and added a singular tally into the 'You Rule' column.
She glanced back at you and Steve. Steve had broken the kiss to tug you close to him, hugging you to his chest. You twisted your hand into his hair, smiling over his shoulder, your eyes closed against the rest of the world.
Robin grinned; she guessed the 'You Suck' tallies didn't matter anymore. Steve had found the one his charm worked on.
☞ ❊ ☜
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Stranger Things // Steve Harrington
part 2 coming soon!
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life
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tartarusknight · 1 year
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The Fallen King and the King of the Freaks | Part 1
Ao3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16
Steve didn't have the heart to tell the kids about how Billy didn't back off after Max's threat. Not when they seemed to look up to him for some reason. So, instead, he stayed out of Billy's way as much as he could. But it seemed like the man was hunting him down. It got to the point that Steve dropped basketball.
Steve got used to being slammed into lockers and taunts from the people he used to friends with. So what if he wasn't top dog anymore? So what if he didn't have any friends his own age? So what if Nancy dumped him (ripped his heart out and stomped on it with bullshit)? So what if Billy left bruises on his body with well time jabs and kicks? Steve was an adult he could handle this...
However, as he was shoved into the janitors closet and hearing the lock click behind him, he thought maybe it was getting worse. He slammed his shoulder to the door but it didn't budge and he heard Billy's stupid laughter outside. "Enjoy your alone time, princess," Billy taunted.
Steve slid to the ground and tried not to panic. He wasn't going to freak out just because it's dark and he doesn't have anything to protect himself. He really wasn't going to. He wasn't that much of a loser that he was scared of the dark.
Then he started to cry. He normally was a silent crier, but normally, he wasn't struggling to breathe. He curled around himself and tried not to think of creatures with mouths that took up their entire head and opened like flower petals. Really, he was trying. But Steve just couldn't focus.
There was a soft voice outside the door that shook him from his isolation. "Hey man, you alright?" A dude questioned, and Steve tried to focus so he could answer. "Imma pick the lock, just gimme a minute. I've got ya," the voice was smooth, and Steve squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't really want to be seen at the moment, but he wanted out more.
The door clicked, and Steve crawled back so it could open. Eddie Munson was crouched there, a few things in his hands that he probably used to pick the lock. The known drug dealer looked frozen in shock at the sight of Steve, and Steve basically plowed into him to get out of the room quickly.
His brain was fried, and he really wanted to cling to Munson and let the calm voice focus him. Instead, he backed off and pressed his back to the wall, hanging his head between his thighs. "Thanks," he mumbled and hid his tear stained face from the other.
"Uh, it's um, not a problem... Usually, I'm helping others after you pick on them, though," Eddie's voice wasn't as soft as it had been. It made Steve wince and curl up tighter on himself. Of course, Munson would hate him...
"Never shoved anyone in janitor closets before," he said instead.
"Ahh, lockers then."
Steve shook his head, "You could really hurt someone doing that. What if no one found them? Or if they passed out or something?" He pointed out and finally looked up at the other boy. Eddie was just staring at him like he's never seen Steve before. "I never wanted to hurt anyone," Steve breathed out, but it came out more snappish than he meant it to.
"Right... so how come King Steve was shoved into the closet?" Eddie questioned and Steve looked away from him. "Did you sleep with someone's girl-"
"Jesus man, I get it! You hate me but can you fucking stop? Not everything that happens to me is my fault, okay?" Steve snapped, and Eddie flinched back. "Fuck, stop acting like I'll hurt you, Jesus. Billy's just an asshole who needs a punching bag, okay? And he learned that he can take he down, okay?" He gestured to the slowly healing bruises on his face.
Eddie was staring at him, "why you?"
Steve scoffed, "cause he can't take it out on his sister anymore? Cause he's an asshole with mommy issues? Or maybe just because he knows I won't fight back! I don't know, I'm not in his brain! I don't know what he thinks when he trips me in the hallway or throws a ball at my head in the gym!"
Eddie blinks and gets up to his feet, but then he holds out his hand in offering. "Come on, man." Steve takes it and lets Eddie pull him to his feet. He's still a little shaky, but he manages to stay on his feet. "I've been known to adopt lost sheep," he's guided away towards the exit and he's so shocked he doesn't fight it.
"Thought you hated me," He points out.
Eddie laughs, "eh, you can just buy me dinner." Eddie pauses for a moment, but Steve is already nodding. It makes Eddie grin, and he throws an arm around his shoulder. "Welcome to the land of the outcasts. Here I'm the king." He gestures to the group of people smoking by one of the picnic benches outside.
"You'll lose a few cool-dude points if you're seen with us," Eddie smiles like it's funny but Steve just feels bad. These were the people he never stood up for. These were the people he never looked at, just ignored.
Steve smiles and looks at Eddie, "you inviting me into the Munson cult?"
Eddie's grin goes sharp, "You gotta earn that. I'm offering you a starting point."
Steve thinks about how lonely he's been and how kind Eddie's voice had been. "So, how do I climb up the ladder? My only skills are giving rides, basketball, and hair."
"Don't forget the Harrington charm," Eddie grins and it's kinder. "Show us yourself, and we'll see from there." He whispers before turning to the group of people.
"Gentlemen, we have a traveler from the halls of royalty! He's come to bless us with his presence!" Eddie's voice is filled with so much emotion. Steve almost misses the way the group tenses up.
Steve might have a while to go before they trust them. But he thinks maybe it could be worth it. Especially as Eddie looks back at him with a smile that makes Steve's stomach flip. "Uh, hey," he smiles awkwardly, wiggling his fingers in greeting.
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stevesbipanic · 1 month
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@steddielovemonth Day 22: Love is liking the version of yourself you are with them the best @tinytalkingtina
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"King Steve!"
Steve peeked up hearing the voice.
"King Steve!"
Steve poked his head out the small window and peered down to the ground below. A head of dark curls and a gummy grin greeting him.
"Friend or foe?" He giggled looking down at the boy.
"Friend of course, it is I, Sir Eddie, back from my quest!" Eddie hoisted the basket in his hands above his head, showing it off for Steve.
"Did you Uncle, I mean the dragon, put extra peanut butter on mine?"
"Extra peanut butter and the crusts cut off!"
"Hmmm well I guess, dear knight, you can have entry into the kingdom," Steve said tossing down the ladder.
Eddie climbed up quickly, joining Steve in the tree house. He plopped down beside Steve, crushing his cardboard sword slightly. "Oh, I found this shiny rock too I think we could glue it to your crown," Eddie said passing the sandwich over and gesturing to the crudely made crown on Steve's head.
The boys spent the afternoon looking for more rocks for the crown and pretending to slay mighty beasts, but soon enough Steve's nanny had come to collect him.
"The kingdom will be lost without you, King Steve," Eddie said pouting.
"I'll be back tomorrow Eds, don't let the dragon eat you while I'm gone," Steve replied giving his friend a quick hug before running to the car.
"King Steve!"
Steve scowled at the nickname. Tommy only called him that when he'd done something stupid, like the keg stand last night or knocking into some poor kid only because Steve rarely looked where he was going.
"Don't call me that."
"You're King of the school Steve, live a little."
"Dumb kingdom anyway." He said walking away, what did Tommy know anyway.
"Steve?"
Steve was terrified but that voice sounded just as small as it did a decade ago.
"It's me, Eds, why don't you tell us what happened?"
"Steve?"
"Eds! You're awake!"
"The dragon got me pretty good I think."
"I should've been there."
"Hey, now, I'm the knight, had to protect the pretty King didn't I."
"King Steve!"
"Sir Eddie!"
"Let me up, baby, Wayne made us sandwiches!"
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wheatnoodle · 1 year
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i love steve trying dnd bc eddie loves it, but can we consider eddie somehow getting roped in to playing basketball or baseball with steve. and like actually realizing it’s a lot of fuckin work. and like how steve will always seem in awe when he watches eddie dm or play his guitar, eddie watches how steve does these things, that eddie realizes are actually really hard, with so much skill and surprising grace and he makes it look easy.
maybe he joins him at the gym and he gets to see him on a pull-up bar (and all those back muscles) or benching enough weight so he knows he could carry hopper to safety if he needed to. and he’s struck with how impressive it all is.
that it’s not all dumb jock brain “oo throw ball go far ooga ooga” but it’s thought out. it’s practiced, it’s calculated. and not only that, but it makes steve feel alive.
his heart pounding against his chest, his muscles aching and his lungs tight with too much air and also not enough. he’s red in the face and sweating and he loves it. eddie can see it clear as day. he’s happy. this…thing that eddie always makes fun of steve for. sports, exercise, whatever. it makes him so happy, he’s glowing. and when steve lives everyday with a little rain cloud over his head, it’s exhilarating to see him shine like the sun.
just more of eddie appreciating steve’s interests. or anyone appreciating steve’s interests, really lol.
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dearharriet · 2 months
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Whatever; Steve Harrington 🌓
summary: they say you’ll meet every person in your life twice. the second time you meet steve, you’re in college, and he’s very different from what you remember.
word count: 3.2K
warnings: fem!r, mentions + content of previous bullying, ex-bully!steve, alcohol consumption, some unresolved emotions, angst, hurt/comfort
a/n: i swear im alive i’m just stupidly busy. hope y’all like this one xxx
You circled back to Steve so quickly that a lick of embarrassment flamed at your cheeks, but really, you couldn’t have stopped it. His presence was fascinating, and like a passerby can’t look away from a car accident, you couldn’t resist inspecting Steve.
The house was very dark and humid, crowded with people that went to your university, and people who didn’t. Steve, for example, who had appeared—now for a second time—seemingly out of nowhere. Two weeks ago you’d spotted him at a party across town that a scene band threw, but he’d disappeared before you could talk to him. Tonight, he wasn’t so lucky.
To your relief, he received your sudden presence very gracefully, almost sheepishly. He was bowing his head and his broad shoulders shrunk together carefully. You wanted to say something very bold, something to grab his attention like fancy meeting you here, but the totality of your unfamiliarity made you hesitate.
“Where’ve you been?” you shouted instead, hugging your chest to feign casualness. It sounded, you realized, like you were inquiring as to where he’d been five minutes ago, not indefinitely post-graduation. Steve didn’t seem to mind.
“Hawkins,” he replied, matter-of-fact. “You?”
“Hawkins?” you repeated, ignoring his courtesy. “That’s not like you.” In truth, you probably knew very little about what would be like him and what would not, so you tacked on, “Not to be presumptuous or anything, sorry.”
In school, you and Steve saw very much of each other yet spoke next to never. In the spring of your sophomore year, Tommy Hagan’s father made him walk about the neighborhood and offer to mow lawns for money—something about growing hair on his chest, forming a sense of responsibility—and your mother had just broken her wrist, so she gave him a five dollar bill every Saturday for three months to help out. Tommy was awful at it, and he loathed you, and when you returned to school in September he’d dragged Carol and Steve with him into his loathing.
One day, you couldn’t recall what date—or even what month—but you remembered the three of them had come to find you after classes were done after you’d stayed late. You missed a question on some test, or there was something about a project, whatever. You knew it was late because the halls were empty, and your recollection of that relied heavily on the memory of Carol’s chilling laugh echoing down them, which you never forgot.
“God, Tommy, you’re sadistic.”
They prowled closer, just around the bend. Tommy and Carol were chortling and you could imagine them hanging all over each other the way that they often did. Steve cut in abrasively, something frenetic in his tone.
“I’m telling you, she’s not here, man.”
Steve’s voice bounced down the corridor and sounded back, like radar pinging around and around, detecting movement.
“Relax, Harrington, what’s the rush?”
“Rachel’s waitin’ on me, that’s what,” Steve replied. “And I still gotta drop you two assholes off.”
“Your gal-pal can wait, Steve,” Carol sneered, and you thought her voice was edged with something sharper than exasperation. “Besides, this’ll be fun.”
They turned the corner, and you realized then that it was likely you they were looking for, and it was suddenly too late to turn and hide. You froze, bag heavy on your shoulder and damp starting to form on your brow.
“Ah-ha! Just the girl we wanted to see,” Tommy sang, his voice already lilting meanly. You took a step back, wondering if they’d really chase you if you bolted. Carol had heeled boots on, and you were certain Tommy and Steve wouldn’t hunt down a girl no matter how twisted they were. A guy, sure, but you?
It didn’t matter, because you didn’t run, which you could only blame on yourself and your tendency to petrify under pressure. Anything you chose seemed the worst option, which made the logical solution to do nothing.
“She looks about ready to run,” Carol peered as they came closer, which was very astute for her, all things considered.
“Yeah, maybe.” Tommy grinned. “You wanna play, goodie-two-shoes? Me ‘n Steve’ll give you a head start.”
In retrospect, the roles of Tommy and Carol and Steve, and even you, are played by their fully grown versions. Of course you all looked very young, sounded very young—being fifteen at the time—but it all comes back as if it happened yesterday. It’s warped by everything that happened after.
“Yeah, why don’t you just get it over with, save us all a little time?” Steve picked, his expression almost bored.
You pressed your lips together. Carol stepped behind you, prodding at your bag, and you recoiled, backing closer to the lockers.
“Nah, she’s too chicken-shit,” she hissed, and then ripped your bag from your arms. When you lunged for her, Tommy pushed you back into the metal wall of lockers, and your shoulder blade landed hard on a dial-lock.
“Jesus H Christ, Tommy,” Steve laughed awkwardly, “could you have pushed her any harder?”
“Whatever, man,” Tommy waved him off, watching as Carol dug through your satchel. “You’re soft.”
Steve’s features tightened then, all of a sudden like a switch had been flipped. He took his hand out of his hair and strode over to Carol, taking your bag and emptying its contents onto the linoleum. Notebooks and pens, highlighters and, embarrassingly, a heap of pads, all washed over the floor. Carol had your journal in her hands and Steve took that too, discarding it with everything else.
“I’m fuckin’ tired of this shit,” he muttered, “let’s go.”
“Boo,” Carol complained, “what a wet blanket.”
“Yeah, why don’t you stay here with the teachers’ pet,” Tommy gibed, gesturing at you, “since you both love being L-A-M-E.”
He spelled the word out, holding a backwards L on his forehead that Carol copied.
“Yeah, and who’s gonna drive you home, Tommy?” Steve challenged. Tommy clenched his jaw, rolling his eyes petulantly. Carol’s hip popped as she dropped her hand, lips smacking. “That's what I thought.”
Steve brushed past them then, properly regal and entitled, and they followed him begrudgingly, swapping resentful glances until you couldn’t see them anymore.
In the minutes it took to gather your things back into your bag, you couldn’t resist the cloudy thought that Steve dumping your bag felt like a mercy. In the company of many rabider dogs, his offense was almost magnanimous, and, despite it being your things, felt more targeted at Tommy and Carol than at you. On your way home you decided that that was stupid, and that you were likely feeding into a fantasy that would eventually hurt you.
It wasn’t until after graduation that you realized they were bullying you. At the time it obviously hadn’t felt friendly, but you’d been so fictile then that you assumed most of the blame. When your mind changed, the word bullying alone felt too childish to bear, so you decided it was fine and that you were over it.
Standing before you at the party, Steve was folded in on himself. The memory juxtaposed so coarsely against how he looked now.
“Not like me?” he repeated.
“I just mean,” you continued, “I would’ve thought you’d go to school. Here in Chicago, maybe. I don't know. Indi, at the least.”
He shook his head, cradling his damp beer can closer.
“Yeah, well, I'm not smart like you,” he answered. “I didn’t really get accepted anywhere.”
Steve’s cheeks pinked with embarrassment, but he didn’t look all that dejected. You were sure that was the nicest thing he’d ever said to you, and the added element of self-depreciation threw you off-kilter.
“You still talk with Carol and Tommy and stuff?” It wasn’t much of a question, but Steve looked profoundly confused.
“What? No, I um—“ He licked his lips, looking down. “They ditched me when Hargrove came into town. You don’t remember?”
“Oh,” you said. “No, I must’ve missed that.”
“Yeah, that’s uh. S’ probably for the best. You shouldn’t have been caught up with us anyways.” It sounded like an apology, though not direct enough for you to accept in any way.
“Well it’s not like I never saw Tommy H. and Carol again,” you said, admittedly sour. “I figured you were off with Nancy or whatever. Where is she anyways?”
“Nancy?” You nodded. Shrugging, Steve said, “I wouldn’t know. We broke up in 1984.”
“Oh,” you jolted , “sorry about that.”
“Nah, don’t be.” He looked very sorry about it himself, like he was still wishing it away.
“Well, I am. I always thought you two would get married or something. She seemed like she knew how to keep you in line.”
Steve smiled softly, vaguely.
“Yeah, Nancy’s like that.”
His sentence ended there and didn’t pick back up, and you felt terribly anxious about what to say next. As often as you denied it, you did want to see people from school again, if only to show them they didn’t win. You wanted to happen upon Steve The Hair Harrington, or Tommy H. or Carol Perkins or anyone at all just to affirm that, yes, you were doing significantly better than they expected you to. You wore shoes with heels and makeup and you were just like them, only you could writhe in shameless glory because you were never a prick.
“So what do you do? No school?”
Steve leaned closer then, apprehensive as he brought his mouth to your ear.
“D’you wanna talk outside?” He asked, and then pulled back to gauge your expression. “I can’t hear very well,” he explained, some level of shame coloring him. You nodded tolerantly, following him out to the porch.
It was clear and cold in the Chicago suburbs, like a freshly opened bottle of coke, and you could see Orion’s Belt. You had on a white leather jacket that kept you just warm enough.
“You seem to like it better here,” Steve observed. Your earlier question stood forgotten from the journey outside.
“In a way,” you agreed.
“People are nicer?”
You pinched your brows thoughtfully.
“I wouldn’t say nicer, no.” Fiddling with your jewelry, you looked at the sky. “People have been rude to me here before, but it’s…it isn’t like Hawkins.” You swallowed a freezing breath, wondering if Steve was really standing next to you. “I can leave at any time if it gets to be too much. Or, like, tell them to fuck off if I wanted to. In high school I just had to sit there and take it, and then come back the next day for more.”
Blowing out a stiff laugh, you looked back to Steve. His eyes were downcast, face crumpled, and it looked like he would eat his own mouth before he said a word in response. It was painfully silent, so silent that the wind and your racing heart played a spoilt song together at Steve’s inattentive audience.
Your face felt warm with humiliation. Conversation had grown on you, or so you thought, enough that you wouldn’t become carried away into overzealous speeches to people who didn’t care. You cleared your throat uncomfortably, frowning.
“Do you like Chicago?” You asked Steve, and it turned brittle in the air, like a wisp of ash from a fire.
“I’m so sorry,” his aggrieved response came, and it carved your chest open to hear, in a way. It was something you imagined, a moment you craved, a fantasy you knew would never occur. Now that it had, you felt a million miles away, like he’d said some magic word and hypnotized you, stealing your present mind and leaving you cavernous and vulnerable.
“It’s really okay, Steve,” you said hoarsely. “We were kids, and you were as stuck as I was.”
“I was not,” he sternly denied.
“Sure you were,” you insisted, “it was eat or be eaten. I can’t blame you for not wanting to be picked on.”
“Because I would have died from being unliked,” he retorted sarcastically. You gave him a look as if to say that’s not fair, but you knew he was right. It would have been a different kind of unlike for him. If he’d forfeited his social standing, all of the cruelty and indifference he got would have been directly his decision, and his courage would have been gratifying enough to sustain him.
“Well,” you stammered persistently, “I still think you’re okay. I forgive you.”
“Look, I’m—“ Steve huffed, scrubbing at his hair anxiously. “I’m not trying to fish for compliments. Really. I just have this terrible feeling that you convinced yourself that it’s okay, what all happened in school. But it’s not okay. It’s not.”
He looked into your eyes hotly, a wild turn to his features, and you felt oddly nauseous. You looked at your shoes to avoid his stare, slim heeled boots that all the pretty girls wore in school, and you wondered how you’d feel about those girls if you’d never slipped them on, never had a guy take you home because you looked so good in them.
“What do you want me to do, then?” you asked.
Steve was silent for a moment.
“Whatever you feel,” he replied, “what I want is besides the point.”
“Not to me,” you mumbled, and then regretted it instantly. You pulled your jacket tight around you and shivered, said: “I don’t know what to do.”
A tear tracked hot and shameful down your cheek, dancing with the porch light and the stars and Steve’s eyes. You felt like the whole world was watching you flounder and choke like a fish on a dock. You sucked in, and air stole down your throat in three distinct parts, stuttering and painful.
Steve reached for you then, taking your arm into his grip and crushing you to his chest. Through teary eyes you could spy into the house where the party still thundered. It looked shockingly vibrant and warm inside, a world away from your moment with Steve on the frigid veranda. He was holding your head gently and rubbing at your back, and you could only think of how much you’d been craving this. How you’d yearned over intellectual conversations and counseling sessions for something as real as this moment, here, with Steve. He knew you better than anyone inside, anyone in Chicago, even, and you could not fathom how that had happened.
Pressing into him, you sniffled pitifully and hid your face.
“Sorry for crying,” you said, “I really didn’t want to.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Steve said, for the second time that night. You liked the way he said it, with a soft sternness that left no room for argument. He even went on further to say: “It’s okay if you want to cry some more.”
You rubbed his sleek jacket between your fingers and looked at him.
“You won’t tell anyone?”
Steve laughed, and you knew then that he wouldn’t, like you knew he wasn’t laughing at your expense.
“Who am I gonna tell?” he asked genuinely. You thought about it.
“Tommy or…” Steve shook his head. “No, right, you said that.”
You pretended to think some more, but you had nothing. You said, “I don’t know,” and then expected Steve to give you a name, like you were playing a guessing game and you’d lost. Instead, he drew his arms tighter around your shoulders, so that your chin was trapped on his chest as you looked up at him.
“I won’t tell a soul if that’s what you want,” he admitted, a shiny frond of his hair escaping the fray to sway between you two. “I think I’d do whatever you asked, actually.”
He seemed very affronted by that fact, as if he was only discovering it as he told you, right then.
“Would you—” You licked your lips. Looked at Steve’s. Asked: “Would you kiss me?”
“Yeah,” Steve breathed, “‘course.”
He kissed you then, acerbic ale transferring from his lips to yours. The stray hair caught between your foreheads, doing what your noses could not and flattening. Steve’s hands held you firmly, at the back of your neck and on your upper arm, and it made you shudder. He was kissing you dizzy—not nearly the first you’d ever had, but certainly the first that felt worthwhile, the first that felt good and right and deserved.
As you pulled away shyly, Steve kept his eyes closed, his jaw working and his breath uneven.
“Steve?” you called.
“Hm?”
“Did I do something wrong?”
Steve hummed negatively, tapping his forehead back onto yours and finally blinking his eyes open.
“No, sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t be sorry.” You smiled, and Steve grinned knowingly, like he could tell he’d be hearing that a hundred times a week from then on. You asked him what he was thinking and he fiddled with your jacket collar nervously.
“Just about you. In Chicago and everything. Where that puts us.” Steve scrunched his face in a sort of wince like that might upset you. “I mean, not that there has to be an us at all—if that’s not what you want, or if I’m getting ahead of myself.”
He says the last bit like a question, like a request. Like: Please say I’m not getting ahead of myself?
“No, I wouldn’t say you are,” you assured him. “I didn’t even think about the distance. Does it bother you?”
“Yeah,” Steve said without hesitation, but a small abashed smile played on his lips. “But I meant what I said, whatever you say goes. Whatever you want me to do.”
You looked him over, from the tallest strand of his styled hair down to where your chests met, taking in his moles and the fibers of his shirt.
“Do you have anyone at home that you’d miss?” you asked, and Steve’s face said everything, even as he shook his head stubbornly.
“Baby, whatever you want. Ask me to move up and I will.”
Smiling, you kissed him curiously, the feeling so novel and thrilling. His responding squeeze on your arm shot through you to your very center.
“I still have my family in Hawkins,” you told him dazedly. “I go home every holiday. We can visit. And it’s only a year and half before I graduate, and then we can figure something new out.”
Steve smiled dryly, perhaps anticipating a different answer, but ultimately you knew it’d be best not to rush anything. You were content, all of the excitement and adrenaline seeping from your body and making you feel soft around the edges. You shivered a touch, and Steve rocked you both to and fro.
“Do you wanna go back inside,” he asked, his mouth on your hairline. You shook your head, stuffing your face in the junction of his neck and shoulder.
“Can we stay here just a little longer?” you pleaded.
“‘Course we can,” Steve granted, soothing his fingers through your hair. “Whatever you want.”
+
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