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theladybarnes · 2 days

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CRIMSON AND CLOVER: CHAPTER EIGHT

“I told you, I'm fine. Okay? I mean, as fine as someone who's hurtling towards a gruesome death can be.”

▸ summary: the group splits off again and a breaking theory comes your way ▸ characters: steve harrington, dustin henderson, max mayfield, robin buckley, nancy wheeler, & lucas sinclair ▸ word count: 12.7k ▸ warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of death, slight canon divergence, & trauma ▸ series masterlist

“It was here..right here!”

“A grandfather clock?”

“It was so real.”

You watched carefully from the back of the group as Max explained what happened once she had snapped out of her brief frozen state. Time had not ran out and it was only a few seconds into your panicking that she gasped before you guys, waking up.

“..And then, when I got closer, suddenly I just..I woke up.”

“It was like she was in a trance or something.” Dustin chimed in, looking over to the rest of you. “Exactly what you and Eddie said happened to Chrissy.”

You met his gaze with a small nod, unsure what to think next. Chrissy never woke up to the sound of you and Eddie calling out to her. And while Max didn’t either, she still snapped out of it.

Turning around to the group, Max couldn’t help but dive into more information. “That’s not even the bad part.” she started before she led all of you back to Ms.Kelley’s office. Surrounding the stack of files, she shared a couple between Robin and Nancy, setting up the base of what you guys gathered.

“Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms.Kelley for help..they both were having headaches, bad headaches that just wouldn’t go away. And then..then the nightmares..trouble sleeping. They’d wake up in a cold sweat. Then they started seeing things..bad things..from their pasts. In these visions, they just, they kept on getting worse and worse, until eventually..everything ended.”

“Vecna’s curse.” Robin clarified.

Curse. You thought.

Stomach churning at the idea of not only yourself being cursed, but Max too. How could she be hit with any more hardship than she already has? Even as she had explained everything as perfectly as she could, there was still a heavy terror in her voice. One that hit you harder than you expected.

But what could you do? How could you be of any help when you were going through the same afflictions that her and the others have? The only difference in the patterns were the visions. Instead, you were tormented by a voice. A dreadful voice that seemed to know all your insecurities and dump them into your mind at the worst times.

You glanced around at your friends, their faces etched with sad, sombering looks as they listened to what Max had to say.

“There’s still time to figure things out,” you said, speaking up finally. “No one is giving up just yet.”

Max slowly shook her head. Her bright eyes still lingered with a few unshed tears as she tried to reason with you.

“Chrissy’s headache started a week ago, Fred’s, six days ago. I’ve been having them for five days.”

Your heart dropped at that, unsure what you could even say to help make things better for her. But to your dismay, she went on. Even through her own body betraying her regular strength, she couldn’t help but crumble at her conclusion.

“I don’t know how long I have. All I know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than twenty-four hours after their first vision. And I just saw that goddamn clock!..So..” her breath was shaky as she stepped towards the desk. Gripping at the chair while she looked at everyone. “..it looks like I’m gonna die tomorrow.”

There’s a loud clang in the distance. Causing the group to jump a bit and pause the conversation. Steve doesn’t hesitate to step up, turning to the others with a frown on his face. “Stay here.” he ordered calmly, and turned to leave the room. But not without grabbing a nearby lamp to use as a weapon.

It took only a couple of seconds of him leaving the room before you quietly muttered to the others. “Yeah, screw that.”

Trailing after him, you made sure to check the hall behind you guys before following in close after him. Without having to look back, you could hear as the others quietly did the same. Sticking close behind Steve as well as he ventured out to the source of the noise.

Steve barely glanced over his shoulder and noticed you all before he sighed disappointedly. “You gotta be kidding me.” he muttered to you.

“Like you aren’t used to us not listening.” you whispered back. “Besides, you’re using a damn lamp. It’s not like you’re ready to fight either.”

“It’s the best thing I got!” he hissed, trying to keep quiet. The sound of clattering stirred up again, shutting you both up.

In the distance you could hear the sound of feet running begin to pick up, creating an anxious chill to run down your back.

All around the rest of the group grew tense, waiting behind to see what would be coming into the view. Steve raised up the lamp, ready to take his aim on the target when suddenly a familiar face jumped into the hall.

Steve and Lucas began to yell once coming to head with each other, causing everyone to let out a panicked cry as they staggered back.

“IT’S ME!” Lucas cried out, holding his hands out before him defensively.

“Lucas?!” Nancy called out, flashing another light on his face.

“It’s me!” he cried again.

“JESUS, WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU SINCLAIR?” Steve yelled, looking flushed as the panic came over him.

“I’m sorry!”

“I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!” he chided dramatically. You reached over for his arm and pulled him away from Lucas to rest back and give the kid some obvious air since he was panting particularly hard.

“Easy there, he-man.” you patted his arm, earning yourself an annoyed look from him.

“I’m sorry, guys, sorry! I was..I was biking for eight miles.” he held up a finger, holding onto the front of his gut. “Give me a second, shit.” he said before remembering what he really wanted to say. “We’ve got a code red!”

“What?” Steve asked, confused all over again.

“Dustin,” He said as he staggered over to your cousin, still panting as he laid out more crap for the group to worry about now. “I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they’ve gone like totally off the rails! They’re trying to capture Eddie, and they think you know where he is. You’re in terrible danger!”

Dustin, while taken back by this, still can’t help but keep the main problem at focus. “All right, Yeah, that definitely sucks.” he agreed. “But we’ve got bigger problems than Jason right now.”

You could only watch as Lucas slowly glanced over at Max. The two locked eyes and you could just see the pain in Max’s face. Without even realizing it, you’ve instinctively reached out for Steve’s hand. And thankfully, he doesn’t say anything but squeeze back.

“We wouldn’t be able to access the program for it here. The family computer isn’t exactly gonna cut it.” sighed Nancy, downing the rest of her water. “Besides, I’m not even sure how to write up the kind of files we’d need to pass as real.”

“There’s always a chance the library could have some examples.” you threw out, leaning against the counter to look at the two girls. “If we head there early enough, we could be the first ones in, type it out, and get it done by early morning.”

“We can try that, but there’s always a chance it might not work. Hawkins doesn’t really have the newest resources. Even today we had to dig pretty deep to find the newspaper headlines.” Robin countered, crossing her arms as she stood beside you.

The three of you had been in the kitchen for a good few minutes discussing what you guys could do.

After leaving the school, it was pretty easy to just collect everyone and keep watch of each other in the safety of the Wheeler basement. Especially with Max’s countdown recently coming into light to hang over the rest of you.

“Well,” Nancy piped up, “there was a rumor I heard at school..” You and Robin shared a confused look before nodding at her to continue.

“Jordan Wallis. He’s in the A.V. Club. They said his older brother Nick used to help create fake IDs and permits for a certain price..”

“Wasn’t his brother also sent to a Military school for getting caught?” Robin asked, looking a little skeptical.

“He was.” she nodded, scrunching her nose at the fact. “But, I’ve heard that Jordan and a few of his buddies have taken on the family business. They might know a thing or two about forging documents. Some of them are in the newspaper so I might have a way in if we need to talk to him.”

The three of you mulled it over for a minute. Contemplating how much this idea could work.

Nancy let out a long sigh, sounding tired as she set down the cup in the kitchen sink. “It’s a long shot in the dark, but–”

“It’s the best we got.” you finished for her, watching as she nodded her head. “I say we do it.”

Robin silently agreed with a shrug, looking over to Nancy. “Do you think you can reach them in time tonight?” she asked, scratching nervously at her cheek. “We’d have to leave first thing in the morning.”

She turned her watch over, noting the time before she offered a tight lip smile. “It’s not too late. I can make a couple of calls.”

“Then let’s get to it.”

Robin left the two of you to join the others downstairs, possibly giving Steve some sort of relief from ‘babysitting’ while you and Nancy ventured up her stairs. It was easier to conceal the type of phone calls you guys were making from her parents in the privacy of the room. And after about ten minutes, three different conversations, and one sweet minute of pleading, there was a plan made to get the files.

You waited until everything was set and ready for the next day to ask Nancy if you could use her phone for a moment alone. She seemed a little worried, but gave a small smile and quietly left the room.

Reaching for her phone, you stared down at the receiver, wondering what was suddenly coming over you as you pressed in the familiar number. A glance at your watch and you were thankful for once for the time difference.

“The number you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please try again at a later time.”

Frowning, you tried dialing it again.

“The number you are trying to reach is un–”

Ending the call, you tried to figure out just what could be holding the line. Since reaching Jonathan seemed out of play, you dialed the next person you needed to speak to.

It only took one ring for her to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Mom?”

“Oh, Duckie!” your mother gasped. “I was hoping I’d hear from you soon!”

The sudden joy in your Mother’s voice brought a blooming happiness over you. It had been a couple of weeks since you had the chance to properly speak with her, and hearing her chirpy tone now felt like just what you needed.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting for so long..”

“I would wait forever if it meant to get a call from you.” she cooed teasingly. “How are you, Duckie? Are you guys finally on Spring Break?”

“Yeah, just started on Friday. Are you and Dad at the beach house?”

“Yes! We just arrived the other night. We’re definitely missing you here. The Johnsons brought their little Dune Buggy that you liked to ride on the shore line.”

The memories of spending breaks over at the seaside home came flooding in. If you were living there now you’d find yourself spending the evening with your parents getting ready for a lush dinner. Not currently dwelling over what you were going to do to save a friend from the fate that you might very much fall into as well.

“Duckie?”

“Sorry,” you coughed, feeling your throat tighten up from your thoughts. “I’m just out of it today. Kinda tired.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re on break! You’ll get to go out with your friends, have fun date nights with Steve–By the way! How is he? It’s been so long since you’ve told us about you guys. We’ve got that picture of you two from his graduation in the drawing room. It’s too cute!”

Instantly you’re covering your face up. Not sure how you could even dive into explaining everything that was going on with Steve. Especially when right at this moment, you’re pretty sure you’re the last person whom he’d want talking about how well he is.

“Oh, uh, Steve’s fine.” you stuttered a bit. “He’s just been working really hard.”

“Hopefully not too hard. I know how much you two are in love~ Must be going crazy with seeing each other all the time..” she teased, nearly making you groan out in pain.

“Yeah, we’re..inseparable.” Balling your hand up in a fist, you lightly punched at your thigh, trying to keep it together. "How are you and Dad doing?"

"We're doing just fine," she sighed, her answer comforting you a little. "Your father's been trying to cut back hours in the firm, he wants to get some vacation time.. I’ve just finished designing a showroom for Margaret Chandler. She’s redone her whole home since her daughter graduated. But, mostly, we miss you. It's not the same without you around."

You swallowed hard, trying to push down the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you at the endearing words you’ve been needing to hear lately. "I miss you too, Mom. It’s kind of late here..um, I’ll try to call again soon, okay?”

“Okay, Duckie. Don’t wait too long this time. I wanna hear all that you’re up to, okay?”

“Yeah.” you managed to choke out. “I love you..so much.”

She let out a light laugh, possibly thinking you’re in a loving mood tonight. “I love you too! Talk to you soon.”

You waited until the line disconnected before slowly putting the phone back down. The silence of the room suddenly became so overwhelming.

Covering your face, you tried to control your breathing, reminding yourself to calm down before you went and join the others. But the tears still welled up in your eyes and your vision blurred.

Would that be your last conversation with your Mother? Should you attempt to reach Jonathan again? What protocols would one have to follow when dealing with a curse?

There was a dip on the bed next to you and suddenly you were being engulfed into a pair of arms. They were so warm, so familiar, you don’t even have to open your eyes as you pushed your way into his chest.

“It’s okay,” Steve whispered as his hands rubbed at your back. “You’re okay.”

You don’t cry as much as you’d like to. Not when you knew you had to be around the others in just a few moments. But you allow the escape of Steve’s hug to give you a few moments of peace until you were pulling back.

“I’m sorry.” you sniffled. “I just..I just...”

The words died right off your tongue and you watched as he merely brought a hand up. Rubbing the pad of his thumb across the tears that stained your cheeks. His warm eyes looked over your face as he slowly shook his head. “You don’t have to explain yourself, baby. I just wanna be here for you.”

His words nearly made you break down all over again and you can’t help but push your face back into his chest once more. Resting against his pecs while listening to the sounds of his comforting heartbeat. He placed his head gently on top of yours, simply holding you close while you took the chance to calm down.

The interaction between the two of you was very much the opposite of what you guys had just a couple of hours ago. When you both tried ways to jab at each other. But to your dismay, like all other fights, Steve would always come to comfort you when you felt you least deserved it.

“Hey do you think you guys can go–”

The sudden voice of Robin booming into the doorway caused you both to pull back from each other. Her blue eyes went wide at the sight of you two before slowly turning into a small grin. “Am I interrupting anything?” she asked teasingly, until she noticed the leftover tears in your eyes. “Shit, am I?”

“Robin,” Steve sighed, letting go of you so he could get up from the bed. He stepped towards the door and closed it enough that it was only him that Robin could see. Giving you the chance to fix yourself up. “What were you gonna ask us?”

“Sorry,” she chuckled nervously. “Do you think you guys could maybe get us some pizza? We’re all kinda starved and don’t wanna bother Mrs. Wheeler or anything.”

“Oh, I’m not sure that’s a good thing right now..” Steve said, most likely thinking you needed a minute. But the idea of stepping out for a moment sounded a lot more pleasing when you really thought it over. “Maybe we could just-”

“We can go get it.” you said softly.

The two peeked turned at your voice, watching as you got off the bed, wiped your cheeks and made your way to the door. You reached around Steve to open it up again, allowing Robin to get a better look of you again.

“Are you sure?” she asked, moving to place a hand on your shoulder. “If you guys need a second it’ll be fine. I can try and heat us some frozen waffles or something.”

“It’s fine, Robs.” you reassured her, attempting to shoot her a small smile. “We can go.” Turning to glance at Steve, you give him a hopeful look. “If you’re up for it?”

His eyes were skeptical as he took in your question. Most likely because he probably didn’t believe your sudden change in demeanor from moments ago on the bed. But to your surprise, he’s not against it and slowly nodded his head. “Let’s go.”

As Steve drove down the winding path toward town, the tension in the car was slightly nerve wracking.

Quietly you sat beside him, trying to keep your composure together. Not wanting to go back to how you were not five minutes ago in Nancy’s room. But there’s no denying what was bound to happen. The moment Steve came into the room and overheard you, you knew what he was going to ask. If not now, then eventually.

The problem was, were you willing to tell him the truth?

From just a glance you could see as his eyes focused on the road ahead. Jaw clenched and lips pursed in a tight line. He was most likely running ideas about how to approach this with you. Not that you had any clue on how he could. It made the guilt return back quickly.

The whole fight earlier felt petty now.

Max was now closer to falling into Vecna’s curse, and there was a possibility that you might be next. How could you even care about stupid things like exes and kisses? Not that he was aware of the severity. All he knew was that his ex girlfriend was acting out of normal for a couple of weeks now. But in reality, you were far into this web of problems that you weren’t sure you had it in you to trap him in it with you.

How could you drag him in when you weren’t sure how to get out?

Carefully, he veered off the main road into the quiet woods, just outside of the main parts of town. You could feel your heartbeat quicken. How many times could you lie to Steve and tell him you were okay? Would he easily see through your lie again and call out the bullshit? There was no way he could attempt to unravel the myriad of problems surrounding you.

But like always, despite all your best efforts to push him away, he just came back with a force.

The car came to a slow stop and he turned off the engine. Cutting off the only noise left between the two of you. Outside the chilly spring night brought a blue hue over the woods. It was the same way it looked the other night when you were left to find your way back home.

You must have been shivering at the memory because suddenly Steve was slipping off his jacket and placing it over you. His eyes stayed focused on making sure you were covered up before he leaned back in his seat with a sigh. The smell of his cologne still lingered over his jacket and you can’t help but allow the heat of the fabric to comfort you briefly, giving you a small relief before you cleared your throat to speak up finally.

“So,” you said lamely, pointing out towards the field. “Chilly night isn’t it?”

He stared quietly, raising a brow at you like he was expecting some sort of breakdown.

“I, for one, think that it is too cold for Spring. Back home, Spring nights felt crisp but still nice enough for a walk.”

"So you’re just gonna act like what happened in Nancy’s room didn’t happen?" he frowned, his voice laced with worry.

You shook your head, trying not to dive into that as you plastered on a smile, hoping it would be enough to deflect his concern. "Nothing happened. That was just me being homesick.."

“Homesick? You’re kidding me..”

“It’s the truth! I haven’t been away from home in so long. It’s complicated. Not to mention, it’s been a long day and I’m a little tired.”

He scoffed lightly, his hand reaching out to grip onto the wheel tightly. "Bullshit, Trouble. You look like you haven't slept in days, you’re crying after a phone call home, you were just in an accident the same night you saw a girl die from some curse. When are you going to finally be honest with me, here?”

“I’m fine.” you replied, voice a little too forced. "Just... worried about Max too, you know? With everything that's been happening. It’s a lot.”

Steve's brow furrowed, his gaze lingering for a moment too long. He could always see right through you. Always sensing when something was off. It was both a blessing and a curse, especially now when you were desperately trying to keep your own secret buried.

"Look, we’re all worried, but I know there’s more. You're not just worried about Max, are you?" His voice was soft, though laced with a hint of hurt.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry as you tried to ignore the guilt coming back in your stomach again. "What do you mean?"

"It’s him too?" has asked carefully, his eyes never leaving yours. "You’re worried about Eddie too. I mean..that kiss..”

“Well, I am worried he might get attacked by a mob of evangelicals. But that kiss, it was just..it was nothing.” you said quickly, “He does it all the time. It’s more so to annoy me than to mean anything else.”

“That’s not what it looked like to me.” he mumbled, glancing out the window.

A lump formed in your throat. Trying to push out any sort of excuse that could ease him of the hurt he had over what transpired earlier. All this time, Eddie was the only thing that helped distract you from Steve. He didn’t care about making anything deep, and neither did you. It was perfect.

But now Steve was here, and he was trying to help you, and all you could think was to apologize for making things worse.

"I'm sorry, Steve," you whispered, reaching out to gently place a hand on his arm. "I want to say that it’s nothing, because it is nothing to me. I’m not even thinking about that. Right now I just want to work on making sure Max is okay."

“There’s more you’re not telling me.”

“I‘ve said all that I need to say—“

"No, nope. I’m not letting you avoid this," Steve said firmly, turning to face his body towards you. "We don’t lie to each other, okay? Even when you’re mad you always eventually tell me what’s wrong. But now? You’re just..”

“I’m just trying to keep focus, Steve.”

He quickly shook his head, frowning now. “You can't keep shutting me out, pretending like everything's okay when it's clearly not. I'm not going to stand by and watch you keep whatever it is that’s eating you up inside! I’ve made that mistake before and I won’t do it again.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him it wasn’t anything he should be concerned over, but the words caught in your throat. How else could you fail in keeping him safe when even keeping him out of the loop caused him to feel this hurt?

But before you could think of anything to say to him, his voice softened, his eyes searching yours as if the answers were right there. "I just want to help you, honey..I lo— I care about you, And it's killing me to see you like this. I made a promise to you a long time ago and all I do is keep breaking it.”

“Promise?” you whispered, leaning in close to him. “What promise?”

He reached out to cup the side of your face. Warming your cheek with the palm of his hand as he came in to rest his forehead against yours. “Last summer. Back in my room, I said no one was ever going to hurt you again. Because no one was going to look out for you better than me.” he whispered back. You stayed quiet, trying to take in those words again. Steve nervously licked over his lips, scared to push the limit of the conversation. “Do you remember why?”

The memory hit you instantly. The way you two looked over each other, trying to make sense of all the pain and suffering you both endured after Billy and being captured by the Russians. You never wanted to see Steve hurt again. You still don’t. His words, however, came back to your mind and you found your eyes slightly prickling with tears.

“..because I’m your girl.”

“That’s right.” he sighed, “You’re my girl..”

Without saying anything, he pulled you into his arms. Holding you so tightly, as if his arms could shield you from the world and all the doom that wanted to make its way in. And truthfully, in that moment, it really felt like they could.

“Can we just..forget about everything? Just for right now?” you asked, keeping your face pressed into his chest. “I don’t want to talk or think about breakups, exes, fighting, or curses. I just..want this right now. Just us.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, pulling back so he could hold your face in his hands. “We can do that.”

There’s a little disappointment in his eyes. Probably from the lack of progress in the conversation. But you’re grateful for the pause. Needing to be selfish just once more with Steve, and focus on the kindness and sincerity of his words that made the ache in your chest lighter.

“Can you say it again?” you asked, leaning close to his face. The faint brush of his breath flushed over your skin and you reached out to place a hand over his chest. Basking in his closeness to you.

A small, pleased sort of smile, pulled at his lips as he nodded his head slowly. He reached out to push a hair away from your face before he finally spoke again.

“You’re my girl.” A kiss to your forehead.

“You’re my girl.” A kiss to your cheek.

He took his time leaning down, only brushing his lips briefly over yours, affectionately. “My girl.” he breathed before he sealed the moment with one last kiss.

The night thankfully didn’t result in more crying. After the two of you allowed yourselves just a little bit of time to just forget everything, you remembered that you had a whole group of people to feed. Some who were kind enough not to point out how long it took for you guys to receive the food.

Eventually the full bellies led for some to go in and out of falling asleep. You took the chance of having a quieter basement go over everything. Sleep, as much as it called to you, did not sound like a good idea. Not when every night now it’s led to another nightmare.

You managed to keep yourself busy, going over all the files again as well as taking in the new information about this Victor Creel guy. Now and then you’d peek over and watch Max over at the desk. She had grown quiet after eating, only asking Nancy for a pen, paper, and envelopes before settling into the back of the room.

It was hard not to want to pester her with worrisome questions. You knew better than to poke her with that kind of approach. But it didn’t help ease you at all. Not when you knew she was probably scared out of her mind.

Eventually the night passed and it wasn’t until morning came that Nancy and Robin left to go try and reach one of the boys who Nancy had called the night before. You offered to join them but they pressed for you to stay back when they noticed your tiredness. It was decided you’d stay back and attempt a bit of a nap.

After a brief hour or two spent up in Nancy’s quiet room, you made your way down to the basement again after downing two pain relief pills. The dreaded headache only turned worse after the reveal of symptoms. But now you were up again and seeking out the company of the others.

You had just sat down beside Dustin, relaxing against the cushion when the other two boys decided to venture into the small pile of information left for them to read over again. It wasn’t until Steve’s grumbling that you peeked an eye open to look over at them.

“Okay, be honest. Uh, you guys understand any of this?”

“No.” Lucas sighed defeatedly.

“Pretty straightforward.”

“Pretty much all of it.”

You and Dustin looked over at each other approvingly before casting a glance over at Steve who was frowning over at the two of you now.

“Oh, straightforward, really?” Steve asked, perplexed, eyes shifting between the two of you.

“Well, what’s confusing to you?” Dustin sighed, tiredly. “So far, everyone Vecna cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor. If anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him.”

“Exactly,” you chimed in. “Which is why he’s our best lead on this.”

“Yeah, that’s assuming he was cursed, Hendersons, which we don’t even know.” Steve muttered, a hard frown on his face. “God, How can Vecna have existed in the fifties? It doesn’t make sense.”

“As far as we know, Eleven didn’t create the Upside Down. She opened a gate to it.”

“Jonathan and I asked Will about this before, he mentioned that the Upside Down looked sort of out of time. Like everything was aged. But that was only from the area surrounding his house, not sure about the whole town..” you said, trying to remember if Nancy had ever mentioned anything. Dustin seemed to agree with your direction, snapping a finger at you.

“The Upside Down has probably been around for thousands of years. Millions. I wouldn’t be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs.”

Steve couldn’t help but grow even more frustrated at that. Waving his arms over in a crossing motion. “Dinosaurs? What are we–”

“Okay! Okay!” Lucas intervened. “But if a gate didn’t exist in the fifties, how did Vecna get through?”

“Oh! And how’s he getting through now?” Steve threw in, pointing to Lucas.

“And why now?”

“And why then? Just pops out in the fifties, kills one family, and he's like, ‘Yeah, I’m good!’ and poof, he just disappears. Just..gone?” You watched carefully as Steve put together his own idea, waving his fingers in the air dramatically. “Then only to return thirty years later and start killing some random teens? No, I don’t buy it.”

He glared down at the newspaper again before starting up again. “Straight forward my ass.” he mumbled, turning to go over to his seat. “You know what? Honestly, Hendersons, a little humility now and then, it wouldn’t hurt you guys.”

Dustin is quick to apologize. Muttering out a ‘sorry’ while he allowed Steve the small win.

The man looked over at you next, raising a brow questionably, but all you could do is chuckle at his reaction. Holding your hands up defeatedly before settling back into a resting position. With a flick to the paper and cross of his legs, Steve finally seemed to relax again.

It was only a few more seconds of silence before Dustin changed the subject.

“Any idea what she’s writing?” The four of you slowly diverted your attention to the girl in the back. She was still quiet, working at the desk like she did late into the night. “Did she sleep?”

“No,” you answered softly, trying not to speak so loud and clue her in on your guys' tactless conversation about her.

“I mean, would you?” Lucas asked.

“I wouldn’t.” you answered honestly. That earned you a worried glance from Steve. Thankfully, before any questions could come out from that, the loud shut of the basement door cut into the room.

Nancy and Robin quickly came down the stairs, a small approving look on their faces as they held onto the folders you had been patiently waiting for.

“Okay, so, we have a plan.” Nancy announced, mostly to those unaware of last night’s conversation. The files were given to the others, allowing them a clue in while Robin explained where they had gone that morning.

“Thanks to Nancy’s minions, we are now rock-star psychology students at the University of Notre Dame.”

“Ugh, Notre Dame?” you asked, earning a small amused look from your friends before they passed you the last folder. Apparently you’d be joining them this time.

“I’m now Ruth.”

“And I’m Rose.”

“Ruth?” Steve asked amusedly. You would have joined in on the silly name, if your eyes had not landed over the name at the top of your page.

“Rhonda?!” you gaped, eyes flickering between the paper and your two friends. “Of all the names–”

“The Beach Boys happened to be playing on the radio when we couldn’t think of another name.” Robin excused quickly, waving her hand to point over to the student status card. “Look at your pretty extracurriculars.”

Dustin leaned over to glance at your file. “You guys do have nice GPAs.” he said, throwing in some positive feedback.

“Thanks.” Nancy said cheerfully before explaining further. “So we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Victor Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics–”

“To which they said no.” Robin threw in, adding some reality into the plans.

“But, we landed a three o’clock with the director.”

“Now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor.”

“Then maybe we can rid Max of this curse.” Nancy finished, hopefulness in her voice.

“All easy things, of course.” you muttered sarcastically, handing your file out to the small rotation that was happening with the boys.

“Yeah, about that.” Steve joined in, “We’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework, and, uh, we got some questions.”

“Lots of questions.” Lucas emphasized.

“So do we,” Nancy agreed. “Hopefully, Victor has the answers.”

“Wait, wait, wait a second.” You all looked over to Steve as he confusedly looked over the papers before him. “Where’s mine?”

It was only a matter of seconds into Nancy’s room that Steve went into a mini tantrum.

“Nancy, you’re outta your mind if you think I’m babysitting again.”

“Okay, first of all, they’re not babies anymore. And Max is in real danger. She needs people around her.” she turned to open her closet before stopping. “Also, It wasn’t just my idea, you know.” she said to him, throwing a glance over at you.

Steve looked at you with wide eyes.

“Way to throw me under the bus.” you muttered, making your way to lie down on her perfectly made bed. Thankfully he didn’t let that part of the conversation linger and returned back to the main focus.

“I know she needs people. But why does it always have to be me?”

“Oh my God, you have a Tom Cruise poster!” Robin gushed as she came into the room now. The excitement on her face is so opposite of Steve’s annoyed one that you can’t help but be entertained from your spot. “You have a Tom Cruise poster~.”

“That’s old!” Nancy replied, trying to justify her previous celebrity crush.

“You act like you’ve never been in a girl’s room before.” you chuckled to your friend, watching her go through Nancy’s tapes next.

“This is Nancy’s room, It’s like a whole new personality to find out.”

“Can you please not touch anything?” she tried telling Robin. Again, Steve is left to try and bring the focus back onto him and his current agenda.

Leaving the babysitting business.

“I just-I just- I can’t do anything here, Nance. Maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude. I don’t know. I could turn on my..my charm.”

“Not the charm we need.” she shut down kindly, still hurting his ego in the process.

“Ouch,” he turned before he caught you watching comfortably from the bed. “Well, why does she get to go?” he pouted, pointing over at you

“Hey!” you frowned, sitting up now. “What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing! Just that if I’m stuck babysitting again then so should you.”

“We need her.” Nancy butt in, poking her head out from the closet. “Not only is she Ivy League type, but some of her assets might be what we need to convince them if all else fails.”

“What assets?” you and Steve asked at the same time.

“She means your boobs.” Robin said plainly, holding onto one of Nancy’s sunglasses from her dresser. “Let’s be real, she’s as hot as she is smart so it’ll be of use when we need to get through.”

You couldn’t help but glance down at your chest, frowning at the ‘assets’ in question before your eyes landed back on Steve for his reaction. He’s unfortunately looking at the same thing as you were, nodding his head despite the frustrated frown still on his face.

“I’d like to make a note that her confidence is good enough to convince anyone she belongs in a room.” Nancy threw in, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Plus, she can charm the pants off pretty much any guy that comes her way.”

“I suddenly feel dirty.” you scoffed, rolling off the bed. “But I suppose I have no other choice but to play the role of femme fatale.”

“I can charm.” he grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve charmed the charmer.” he pointed out, looking at you again.

Nancy looked over at him with a sad smile as she tried to reassure him of things again. “I just– Look, I did a little digging last night, and it turns out this Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar, okay? This is a lifelong student of the world. And if we’re gonna win him over, we’re gonna have to convince him that we are too. That, like him, we are true academic scholars.”

“Holy shit.” Robin whispered while playing the music box loudly. “There’s a little ballerina in here.”

It’s comically quiet for a second while the three of you gaped over at her. Steve can’t help but look at Nancy dumbfoundedly.

“Academic scholar?” he asked, using his hand to point attention to his friend. “She’s giving you an academic scholar vibe? Yeah..”

“No,” Nancy replied honestly. “But, she will.”

You all cast your eyes over the frilly pink shirt Nancy had been rummaging for her in the closet for. It’s a lovely top you’ve seen your friend wear before. But for someone like Robin, whom you’re pretty sure you haven’t even seen in a skirt before, it must have been a frilly nightmare.

“Oh, please, tell me that you’re joking.” muttered Robin, horrified.

You made a mental note that while you were more than happy to be a team player, you weren’t going to be walking around a mental asylum cinched into Nancy’s clothes. “I’m going to shop over at the Karen Wheeler selection.”

Leaving the room, you quickly made your way over to Nancy’s parents room. Thankful that the other members of the Wheeler family had set out for a busy day to give you the chance to sneak in. It was only a second later that Steve came in after you. Frown still on his face but attitude slowly disappeared when he noticed you started to change.

“I don’t think I need any help here, Steve.” you said playfully, reaching for one of Karen’s two piece suits.

It was a pastel green peplum top with a nicely fitted blazer skirt. The pastel color wasn’t your thing but it was paired up with a silky white button shirt. It made the whole ensemble look mature with the small bit of sultriness you needed. “Props to you, Karen.” you mused, squeezing inside the skirt.

You were about to reach over for the top next when Steve suddenly took your hands. “Trouble, we need to talk.” he said softly, stopping you from continuing getting dressed.

“You talk, I’ll get dressed.”

"I don't like this," Steve said while he watched you reach back for the top again. "You guys don't even know what you're walking into. And you’re doing it alone"

“How can three people be alone?” You asked, letting out a long sigh before buttoning up your shirt. “Also, we know what we’re walking into. A guarded asylum, run by staff who we’re hopefully going to trick into letting us interview one of their high risk schizophrenics patients.” you said simply, reaching over for the blazer next. “Kinda, straightforward.”

That earned you a tired look.

"Are you sure about this, Trouble?" His voice was laced with worry, his eyes searching yours for some sort of reassurance.

“Look, we’re just going to ask some questions and hopefully get out of there with something useful.”

“But what if something happens? What if you guys get caught?”

“Then you’ll get to be that brave Knight in white Nikes, again, right?” You teased, reaching out to cup the side of his face. He let out a heavy sigh, resting his hand on top of yours as he leaned in closer.

“Trouble, you know what I me—”

You pressed your lips against his, kissing him gently and stopping him from running into more scenarios. “We have each other, we’ll be safe.” You promised, pecking his lips once more before you pulled back to look at him.

Steve's concern persisted, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation. "I just don't want anything to happen to you," he murmured.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me.” You said softly, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “Worst case scenario is we get arrested for false documents and that’ll just be a phone call to my Dad. Which Dustin or Max will help get for you.”

He nodded his head slowly and you gave a small pat to his cheek before letting go to switch out for some cute pumps Karen had hidden in the back of her closet. The outfit looked good, but was it enough for what you guys needed to do?

“All right,” you sighed, grabbing his attention again while you fixed your hair. Hoping it was still fine after having such a restless night. “How do I look?”

Steve, for the first time, didn’t seem to be bothered now that he was watching as you turned in spot to give him an overall view. His hands reached out to grab at your hips as he pulled you closer. Letting his height tower over you while he gave you a small smirk.

“Like a scholar,” he murmured. “A very pretty scholar, who uses her kisses to try to make me forget how worried I am about her.”

Your heart beats a little fast, but you find yourself almost pressing up to him. “And is it working?”

“Sorta.”

Nancy suddenly called out your name from down the hall, cutting the conversation short.

Or so you thought.

Steve waited until you were walking toward the door before he reached for your hand and tugged you back into his arms. You’re about to ask what he was doing when he leaned in to press his lips against yours again.

The kiss is deeper this time. More needy and hot than the sweet calming one you gave to him. Instantly, your body fell for it and tried to mold against his. There were always going to be unsettled feelings between the two of you, but the physical ones never seemed to be the problem.

It’s not until Robin called out your name, more aggravated than the way Nancy did, that he reluctantly pulled back. His eyes were warm, and looking at you in a way that made your cheeks burn a bit. "Just... be careful, okay, Rhonda?" he pleaded, his knuckles brushing lightly against your cheek.

The simple touch sent a shiver down your spine and you nodded meekly before offering a faint smile. “We will,” you reassured him. “Mr. Charmer.”

He shot back a beautiful smile as he finally let you go. From down the hall you could see as he picked up your discarded clothes while he whistled a familiar tune that tugged at your heart. It wasn’t until you were at the bottom of the stairs that you noticed your slightly disgruntled friends.

Nancy was rubbing the side of her head while Robin awkwardly kept adjusting at her bra. You open your mouth to tease her about her being dressed up as a Nancy clone, when she held up a hand before you could make any comment. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” she grunted before stalking to the front door.

Nancy and you were left rushing after her until you were all outside. The other two led the way towards Nancy’s station wagon when you stopped and noticed Steve’s car parked nearby. The front windows were down a bit, giving you a look inside to something you’ve been aching to see again.

Running to the door, you reached your hand in and carefully tugged on the sun visor until you were able to pull the metal out. Not wanting the other girls to catch you, you ran back towards the car and quickly climbed into the back seat.

It’s not until the drive over had begun that you finally opened up your palm and stared down at the item. The sun perfectly illuminated the shining S, giving you something of comfort to have it in your possession again. You quickly pushed the necklace into the pocket of your jacket, feeling it relax your silently anxious nerves.

“So what did you steal from his car?” Nancy asked, looking out the front window as she pulled out of her driveway onto the street. Her blue eyes flickered over to you in the rear view mirror, almost like she already knew.

“Just...something for luck.”

The three of you arrive at Pennhurst in a good amount of time. There was still time left in the day to get what you needed and hopefully return to Max before the twenty-four hours were up.

As you all exited the car, you couldn’t help but watch as Robin struggled to balance herself in the very low heels that Nancy had her in. “I feel like I’m watching a newborn deer walk.” you said with a sly grin.

The girl bobbed her head over at you, giving you a glare as she adjusted her footing again.

“Do not test me, Henderson. I can’t breathe in this thing, and I’m itchy. I’m itching all over!” she huffed.

“It’s not all about comfort.” Nancy retorted. “Okay? We’re academics.”

“Who are evidently coming straight from Easter brunch.” Robin hissed, stumbling once more before she gripped at the side of her underarms. “Also, this bra that you gave me is really pinching my boobs!”

“We’re also college girls and college girls definitely don’t say boobs. Not to mention, they know how to handle wearing heels. Especially measly one inch heels, Robs.”

“Oh, I hope you get rotten eggs in your basket this year.” she swore, giving you a small glare as she tugged at the sides again. Nancy let out a small, tired, exhale and turned to look over at the two of you.

“Okay. Could you two just let me do the talking? If that’s even possible?” she asked, sounding overwhelmed.

“It’s not only possible, it’s inevitable.” Robin threw back. “Because shortly, I’ll be dead from strangulation.”

Somehow you three managed to cover up the discomfort between the three of you in order to enter inside and get in for the meeting with Dr. Hatch.

It’s a wasted few short minutes of him overgoing all three files while you guys patiently sat around his desk. Robin somehow, got between the two of you, and started to itch again. Nearly getting the attention from the man now and then.

“Three point nine GPAs.” He mused offhandedly. “The three of you…impressive.”

“And this is a recommendation from Professor Brantley.” Nancy added in, offering the man one of the other letters written up from the Newspaper lackeys.

“Yeah, I know Larry. Quite well, actually.” The director replied, making all three of you sit up a bit straighter. His eyes looked from the paper as he gave off a small teasing smile. “Eh, you know what they say, ‘Those who can’t do, teach.’”

The other two girls give off an encouraging chuckle, while you can’t help but open your mouth at this guy’s slightly patronizing behavior.

“I always felt Aristotle said it better,” you pointed out, leaning forward to throw off one of your more charming smiles. “Those who know, do. Those that understand, teach.”

The other two girls nervously glanced your way, raising a brow at your sudden opinion. Over at the desk, sat Hatch as he took in the words you said. Only letting out an amused chuckle before he nodded his head. “That is a positive way of looking at it.”

“That’s actually why we’re here.” Nancy spoke up. “I mean, we can only learn so much in a classroom.”

“Mm. And I’m sympathetic to your struggle, truly. But there is a protocol to visiting a patient like Victor. You have to put in a request, and then you have to undergo a screening process, at which point the board will make a decision.”

You felt frustrated hearing his reply. All those were logical reasons that you three did not have time for. Glancing to your right, you watched as Robin began to squirm in her seat. Adjusting the collar and edges of her skirt over and over as she tried not to scratch. You reached out to grab at her hand, giving her a warning look that only caused her to pout at you.

“I can see you’re disappointed. But I’m more than happy to give you a tour of our facility. Perhaps you can even speak to some patients in our low-security wing.”

“And we’d..we would love that.” Nancy said, looking over at you guys to nod in agreement. “It’s just that, um..our thesis is due next month.”

“And you’re out of time.” he figured.

“Unfortunately, yes.” you sighed, trying to sound a little guilty about it. “Things got a little pushed back–”

“Whose fault is that?” he asked sharply, nearly making you throw him a glare. From the side you watched Nancy’s eyes widen a bit as she attempted to throw in a bit of damage control.

“Ours. Absolutely. And I do apologize–”

“Don’t apologize, Ruth. Screw that!” Robin interrupted. “The fact of the matter is, we did put in a request months ago and were denied. And then we reapplied and were denied again. And coming here was our last-ditch effort to save our thesis. And I really..I can’t breathe in this thing!” she said, turning to glance at Nancy.

“Well, Rose, maybe you’d like to go outside and get some air. I think Rhonda and I can handle this.” she insisted, giving Robin a pleading look.”

“Maybe I should, Ruth!” she said, slapping at the arms of her chair before she got up from her seat. “Because I’m starting to think this whole thing is a colossal mistake. I’m breaking out in a rash. My boobs hurt. And I’ll tell you the truth, Anthony. May I call you Anthony? These aren’t actually my clothes. I borrowed them because I wanted you to take us seriously. Because nobody takes girls seriously in this field. They just don’t.”

From your seat you can’t help but gape at your friend because either she’s been taking acting lessons without your knowledge or that shirt was really so torturous that it was giving her the best ending speech of her life.

“We don’t look the part or whatever. But can I tell you a story? 1978, I was at summer camp. And my counselor Drew told me and everyone in Cabin C, the true story of the Victor Creel Massacre. And little Petey McHew..You know Petey, right, Ruth, Rhonda?”

“Of..of course.” Nancy stuttered.

“Totally!” you chuckled nervously, wondering where this was going to go.

“Yeah. Little Petey McHew started sobbing right there on the spot. Full-on hyperventilating. And all the other campers, they couldn’t sleep for weeks. And I couldn’t sleep either but not because I was scared. Because I was obsessed with the question, ‘What would drive a human being to commit such unimaginable acts?’ Other kids, they wanted to be astronauts, basketball players, rockstars. But I wanted to be you! I wanted to be you. So, forgive me if I’ll now try anything in my power, including wearing this ridiculous outfit, if I might get to speak to the man that ignited my passion and learn a little bit more about how his twisted, but let’s face it, totally fascinating mind works. So, yes, we don’t have the official paperwork, but don’t tell me that cry-baby Petey McHew wouldn’t have gotten an audience with Victor in a matter of moments if he’d asked politely, because you and I both know that he would.”

A beat of pause and you were practically glued to the edge of your seat. Glancing between a very red faced Robin and what looked like a suddenly moved Hatch.

“So..ten minutes with Victor. That’s all I ask.”

It felt like forever as the three of you stared over at the man with bated breath.

“Follow me, girls.”

Without question, you all shot out from your seats and quickly followed the man out. Robin stood proudly between the two of you, allowing Hatch to lead the way while she held her palms out for you both. Nancy and you happily gave her a pleased smirk before pulling your hands out and giving Robin the well deserved high-five.

By the time you guys were walking the grounds of Pennhurst, the sun had died even more. Throwing the whole yard into an overcast gray as the four of you made the way to Creel’s holding.

“These are our gardens.” Hatch announced. “Beautiful aren’t they? We allow them two hours of outside time a day.”

“Can’t they just escape?” Robin asked, glancing at one of the patients waving nearby.

“They could. But the vast majority choose to be here. They like it here.”

“And they’ve said this themselves?” you muttered, worriedly glancing over to a particular woman near a flower bed. Something about this place didn’t feel right to you and his indifferent tone wasn’t helping you feel any better about it.

The three of you are led into a building. The soft sounds of music could be heard from outside the room before you guys walked in.

“This is one of our more popular areas. The listening room.” Hatch said in a much quieter voice. “We found that music has a particularly calming effect on the broken mind. The right song, particularly one which holds some personal meaning, can prove a salient stimulus.”

The right song..

That sparked an interest within you. Recalling how just the other night, Eddie managed to calm down your bad dream with the simple strum of the familiar tune.

Hatch straightened up as he led you girls towards a room in the back. Voice turned eerie as he went on. “But there are those who are beyond a cure.”

Down the stairs, what looked like a basement floor, stood a lonely guard. Curiously glancing at the four of you guys while you made your descent.

“Uh, Dr. Hatch, do you think it might be possible for us to speak to Victor alone?”

He paused at that, casting a shocked glance at her question. “Alone?” he asked, walking back over. You perked up, offering him a kind smile as you tried to help make the idea sound not as crazy as it really was.

“I have to second that request. I think it’d be beneficial for the three of us to gain hands-on experience in this.”

Robin nervously nodded along with you, throwing in her piece.

“I-I think that we would just love the challenge of speaking with Victor without the safety net of an expert such as yourself. Then we could really rub it in Professor Bradley’s face. When we get back to campu–”

“Professor Bradley?” he interrupted. “I don’t believe I know a Professor Bradley.”

“Brantley!” Nancy corrected, trying to fix Robin's slip up. “She..she meant to say Brantley.”

“Didn’t I say Brantley? What did I say?”

“You keep messing up today!” you playfully chided, forcing a giggle to come out as you lightly slapped the back of her hand.

“Sorry, silly me. Words, letters.” she chuckled nervously. “Guess I’m just nervous..I mean, excited. SO excited to speak with Victor. Preferably, as they mentioned, alone?”

Much to your dismay, the suspicion never left his eyes as he watched over the three of you quietly. You’re beginning to think that this whole plan has failed and that you three would be leaving with nothing. But soon enough his stoic face broke as he spoke.

“Yes,” he said, smiling over his frown now. “Why not? You’ve caught me in a rebellious mood.”

You forced a chuckle with the others, hopefully sounding enthralled with his humor enough that he’ll return back to trying to be charming once more.

“There’s something rather urgent I need to check on anyway, so.. Sure.” he said before looking towards the guard. “Keep a close eye on them.”

With that, he quickly made his leave to the stairs. All of you shot off thanks to him as he made his exit before following the guard into the area.

It’s an ominous hall of cells. Clamoring and groaning with other patients that seemingly weren’t allowed the freedom of wandering the lawns of the asylum. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat with every step after the guard, not daring looking into the cells of the patients you walked past while the guard laid out some rules.

“Do not startle him. Do not touch him. Do not pass him anything. Stand five feet away from the bars at all times. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” the three of you said together.

He approached the last cell of the block, using his baton to hit against the metal bars to the patient inside.

“Victor!” he sang out. “Today’s your lucky day! You got visitors…real pretty ones.”

There’s an echoing scratching noise that had you wincing slightly. Victor said nothing, keeping his back to you guys.

“Must be in one of his moods.” shrugged the guard. “Have fun.”

Without another taunt, he left down the hall from where you came from. Leaving the three of you to get started on the work finally. Nancy is the first one confident enough to speak out to the man, ignoring the fact that he was quietly snarling to himself in the chair.

“Victor?” she called out gently. “My name is Nancy. Nancy Wheeler. And these are my friends.”

You and Robin quickly tell him your names, careful with how loudly you spoke out to him.

“Um, we have some questions.” Robin added, voice higher with nerves.

“I don’t talk to reporters.” Victor spat out. “Hatch knows that.”

“We’re not reporters.” Nancy quickly, but gently, corrected. “We’re here because..we believe you. And because..we need your help.”

Robin took her turn, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “Whatever killed your family, we think it’s back.”

Silence hung heavy in the air as you three waited for a response. When none came, you sucked in a sharp breath, summoning every ounce of courage your friends had to come to you. "And we're not leaving until we get some answers, Victor.."

All your words must have sparked something of an interest to the man, causing him to pull away from the desk and emerge from the shadows. Revealing an older man. Worn down by years of torment that must have come from that night. But the most haunting part of his appearance were his eyes. Swollen eyes shut by some previous stab wound.

But even with that in mind, there was something about his gaze that felt off. As if he was staring right through you.

“..When he attacks, our friend described it as a trance. Like a waking nightmare. That’s why we think he’s coming for her next. Does any of this, anything we’ve told you, sound like what happened to your family?”

From your spot you could hear as Victor’s breath began to shake. Almost fearfully.

“Victor.” Nancy spoke out again. “I know this is hard–”

“You don’t know anything!” he bellowed.

His voice echoed throughout the hall. Almost shutting up any other noise around you guys.

“You’re right.” Nancy nodded slowly. “We don’t know. That’s why we’re here. To learn, to understand.”

“We need to know how you survived that night.” Robin added, earning a disbelieving laugh from the man.

“Survived?” he asked sardonically. “Is that what you call this? Did I survive?” He slowly approached the bars, almost as if he knew where to direct his growing anger towards. The three of you pressed closer to each other. Keeping a safe space back as he spoke again. “No, I assure you, I am still very much in hell.”

Surprisingly, that did not stop Victor from beginning his story.

The return home from war, the new fortune that fell into his family’s lives, and the promise of a new chapter in their lives. The reminiscence in his voice almost sounded..loving, far beyond the tone of a man who had murdered those he spoke of.

“It was a magnificent home. Alice said it looked like it was from a fairy tale.”

He spoke of the name so fondly, almost like sighing her name brought relief to him.

“Alice. Was this your daughter?” Nancy asked.

“Mhm, Yeah. But Henry, my boy, he was a sensitive child..and I could see he felt something was wrong.” His voice turned low for his other child. Sort sombering to his previous mood. “We had one month of peace in that house. And then it began..”

He shook his head slowly. Memories seemingly coming to his mind.

“Dead animals, mutilated, tortured, began to appear near our home. Rabbits, squirrels, chickens, even dogs. The police chief blamed the attacks on a wildcat. This..” He paused to let out another feigned laugh. “This was no wildcat. This was an evil. An evil neither animal nor human.”

He walked towards the bars again as he whispered out next words.

“This was a spawn of Satan. A demon. And it was even closer than I realized.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine. Trying to picture out what it was that could have been attacking their home. But like the night you saw Chrissy die, you knew that force was unseeable. That its fury came with no warning.

“My family began to have encounters conjured by this demon. Nightmares. Waking, living nightmares. This demon, it seemed to take pleasure in tormenting us. Even poor, innocent Alice.”

So this curse spared no one. You couldn’t help but think. If his daughter wasn’t safe from it, neither would Max. And that made your stomach turn even more. You pushed your hand into your pocket, squeezing around the metal of the necklace. It brought a moment of comfort until you listened to more of Victor’s story.

“It wasn’t long before I began to have encounters of my own.” he recalled, turning away from you all. “I suppose all evil must have a home. And though I had not a rational explanation for it, I..I could sense this demon..always close. I became convinced it was hiding, nesting, somewhere within the shadows of our home.”

You can’t help but think about this presence. This sense of dread, always creeping up on you these days. Like it was haunting you.

“It had cursed our town. It had cursed our home..It had cursed us.”

A hand reached out for your arm and you glanced down to see Nancy gripping onto you while her face stared hard at Victor. Quietly, you gave you a small reassuring pat before watching as Victor flopped down onto his bed defeatedly.

“It took Virginia first.”

The flashback of Chrissy’s body being twisted and pulled into different directions came to mind. You barely knew her and it shocked you to your core. You couldn’t imagine the horrors if you had to see it happen to someone you loved. Someone like St–

“I tried to get the children out, to save them!” he exclaimed, pulling back your attention. “..But I was back to France, back in the war..It..it was a memory. I had thought German soldiers were inside. I ordered its shelling. I was wrong.”

Victor physically started to become tormented by his own words. The very words that must have been half the torture as whatever was going through his mind. You felt yourself being pulled in, wishing to help this poor man, but you had to hear it all.

“This demon, it was taunting me. And I was sure it would take me, just as he’d taken my Virginia. But then..I heard..another voice. At first, I believed it was an angel. And I..I followed her, only to find myself in a nightmare far worse…While I was away, the demon took my children. Henry slipped into a coma shortly after that. A week later, he died.”

Without realizing it, you pressed against the metal bars. Listening to what you thought might be the very future you were to face. But even with that new fear in you, you couldn’t help but seek out one missing piece.

“Did you hear it?” you whispered.

“Hear what?” he muttered back.

“The ticking..”

He turned his whole body around, facing in your direction calmly before he nodded his head.

“Yes..it was there..it was always there.”

You staggered back, hope fleeting quickly as you came to realize that even with your small difference in things. Your fate would end the same. From the side you could feel Nancy and Robin cast you a worried look before Victor spoke up again.

“I tried to join them…I tried!” His voice sounded almost like a small child, pleading for forgiveness to his upset Mother. He raised up two fists and pressed them to his eyes. It weighed down on your already heavy heart.

“Hatch stopped the bleeding.” he sobbed. “He wouldn’t let me join them!”

The three of you watched as he slowly lied down on the bed. Reaching up to his pillow to hold close to his face for comfort.

“The angel you followed, who was she?” asked Nancy gently.

He didn't answer as he swayed gently. Only humming out the best that he could in his distress state. It sounded familiar. Something you’ve heard long ago. But you couldn’t quite recall it now.

“Victor?..Victor!”

“Is he everything you hoped he would be?”

You guys jumped at the booming voice, turning around to glance down the hall. Hatch, along with two security guards behind him, were making their way over now.

“I just had a very interesting conversation with Professor Brantley! Perhaps we should discuss in my office while we wait for the police.”

The three of you were quickly rushed out of the holding cells. Pushing impatiently through the stairs until you were back in the listening room. Nancy raced after Hatch, trying to plead out to him.

“You’re not listening. Our friend is in danger!”

“Do you really expect me to believe anything you have to say at this point?”

“It’s the truth!”

“You are free to tell your sob story to the police.”

You clung close to Robin’s side since leaving the cell. Victor’s words still echoed in your mind as you guys weaved through the tables of people. Every now and then a guard would give your shoulder a shove and you’d have to step faster to keep close to the other two.

Once you guys were back outside, Robin gripped at your arm and pushed you close to Nancy as she leaned in to speak to you two better.

“Victor said the night of the attack, everything went on in the house, but he made specific mention of music.”

You nodded your head a little. “The night at Eddie’s trailer. The only reason I knew something was up was because of the lights outside. But there wasn’t any music..”

“Right, but that might have been the key difference!” she pointed out. “He said music was playing. And then, when we asked him about the angel, he started to hum.”

She hummed the tune a bit before singing out the lyrics. “Say nighty-night and kiss me. Hold me tight..”

“Dream a Little Dream of Me!” Nancy caught on.

“Yeah, Ella Fitzgerald.”

“The voice of an angel!” you and Nancy gasped.

“Hatch said that music can reach parts of the brain that words can’t. So maybe that’s the key, a lifeline.”

“A lifeline back to reality.” Nancy added.

“Something to ground them.” you muttered, mostly to yourself. But would that have really worked at the stage when you and Eddie were calling out to Chrissy? It wasn’t just a trance she was in, she was being lifted off the Earth. You were so lost in thought, you almost missed catching your friends checking over their shoulders.

“You’re gonna have to lose those.” Nancy muttered towards your feet as she stole one more glance.

“Lose them?” you asked confused, looking from your feet to the guards behind you three.

“I think we can beat him.” Nancy whispered. This time it was Robin’s turn to be confused.

“What?”

“To the car.”

Robin’s face paled a bit at the idea.

“Okay. I’m warning you right now, I have terrible coordination. Like it took me six months longer to walk than all the other babies.”

“Yeah, I’m not really any better.” you sighed, feeling the rush already start to climb up your body. “Last time I tried running off I got caught.”

“She’s right.” Robin nodded. “Those Russian guards caught her in seconds.”

Nancy gave you two both exasperated looks before she sternly turned towards the way she wanted you three to go. “Just follow my lead.”

“No, my God!” Robin panicked.

In a split second the three of you sprinted off in the lawn. Shoes flying off feet as you ran through the grounds, past the orderly and patients that covered the large lawn. The guards continued to call out for the three of you to stop but you guys pushed through.

Behind you Robin was panicking, and you were trying to control the dry heave that wanted to come out of your throat as you attempted to follow Nancy. You could hear one of the patients call out as you all zoomed past him.

“Cinderella, you dropped your shoe!”

You were definitely gonna have to buy Karen Wheeler a nice pair of pumps after this.

Somehow you guys managed to make it to the front of the Asylum. The air burned your lungs and you let out a tired cry at the sight of the station wagon. All of you quickly climbed inside, shutting the doors in record timing. Nancy’s hands were barely on the wheel before the guards began to pound at the windows.

“GOGOGOGOGO!” Robin babbled, panicked at the sight of the men.

The tires screeched loudly as Nancy shot out of the parking spot. It’s a mess of emotions as you let out a small thankful whine while Robin continued to panic.

“Holy shit! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”

“You really are a weird runner!” Nancy said to Robin, earning an annoyed look from the girl. Dustin’s voice perked up from the radio, cutting into the quick celebration.

“Robin, where the hell are you? This is a code red. I repeat, a code red!”

“Max!” you gasped, allowing Robin’s steady hand to take the radio from you.

“Dustin, it’s Robin. We copy!”

“Holy shit, finally! Please, please tell me you guys have this figured out!”

“It’s music! She needs to hear music as a lifeline. Use a song she’s connected with to bring her back!”

The line went painfully quiet.

“Oh God.” you gasped, feeling the tears spring to your eyes. Not Max. It couldn’t happen to her. Not the small girl who sparked such a fiery personality. The one who offered you nothing but a genuine friendship back home. The only person who understood what it was like dealing with the real Billy. She was your friend, she was like family at this point. And despite the current rifts that hit your current relationship, you still deeply cared for her.

If she was going through what Chrissy and Fred did—you weren’t ready for that reality.

“Please not her.”

Robin could only reach forward to grip at your hand while Nancy pressed harder on the gas. Jerking the car a bit as she sped back towards town. You quickly began to hyperventilate, wondering if you’ve just lost your dear friend when suddenly Dustin’s voice broke through again.

“We got her! Shit..She’s back, it worked!”

All three of you let out a sigh of relief together.

“Thank God.” you heard Robin whisper.

The beat of your heart is still erratic and you cover your face to take a second and catch your breath. It wasn’t over yet. You guys still had time.

“Time?” said a familiar deep voice beside you.

Slowly, you pulled your hands away from your face. Around you the world began to shift, turning into the dark middle of the night as it took you into a different reality. You were driving suddenly. Holding onto the large wheel of the car that seemed so familiar.

“No.” you whispered, shaking your head, this couldn’t be real. You were..you were just in the station wagon. Turning your head, you were shocked to find Billy sitting on the seat beside you. Mouth still oozing from the dark blood as he threw you a smirk.

“Don’t you know, babydoll?” he asked playfully. “Times up.”

You were so shocked, so stunned to see Billy outside of a dream, that you never really noticed the headlights that were coming your way…

“DUSTIN! STEVE! WE NEED HELP! – OH SHIT, SHE’S CURSED GUYS, HOLY SHIT! — GODDAMNIT, ONE OF YOU BASTARDS ANSWER ME. – WHAT’S THE SONG!? – STEVE! WHAT’S HER FAVORITE SONG!?”

A/N: Hey guys! This chapter was a bit lengthy, but I could not find it in myself to skip out on Victor’s story. The actor, gives off such great emotion and I’ve been a fan of his when he was back playing Freddy~ ANYWAY, I tried to include some scenes I hope you guys love. Please excuse any mistakes and let me know what you think! Would love some feedback~

TAGGING LIST: k @cluz1babe, @starofavolonea, @primroseluna, & @siriuslysmoking

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x henderson reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x henderson reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #cac #angst #fluff #stranger things fic

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munsonsmixtapes · 1 day

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Haii!! not sure if you do semi specific requests ignore this if you do not :)

thinking of steve and/or eddie having a raging crush on a thicker/chubby metalhead!reader ( preferably fem ) with face piercings, tattoos, black heavy makeup

( think steve had a secret thing for alternative bitches )

Hey, thanks so much for the request! This one was so much fun to write!

Steve x chubby!fem!metalhead

word count: 2,487

cw: none!

The Hideout was packed with people, the place being very crowded even though it was a pretty popular place to be on a Friday night.

They were all there to see Corroded Coffin play and were very excited for it. The band had been doing well enough that they had been asked to play multiple nights a week, now also filling the Friday night slot.

Steve entered the bar and couldn’t help but be put off by the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap beer. He had only come because Eddie had asked and had insisted that Robin accompany him since the whole place kind of freaked him out with the low lighting and creeps that always seemed to linger around.

Steve got further into the bar, desperately wishing that Robin had been there with him, but of course she just had to last minute take a shift at Family Video. It seemed a little too convenient and he could have sworn he heard her laughing through the phone when she broke the news.

He looked around for any sign of the curly head of hair who had invited him but he guessed he had already gone backstage to get ready for the show. Maybe Steve would have had a chance to wish him good luck if he hadn’t spent so long fixing his hair before he left. He had to look good for another metalhead he had his eye on.

His gaze moved to the bar and he spotted you there, making conversation with the bartender while sipping on a drink. You had laughed at something the guy had said and he was jealous. He wanted to make you laugh and not at his expense like you always seemed to do. He was always acting like a goddamn fool around you.

You turned away from the bar and Steve caught your eye. You smiled and waved him over and he was quick to head in your direction. You were happy to see a familiar face.

You were honestly surprised to see him there. The Hideout didn’t seem like his scene in the slightest. You knew that if Eddie hadn’t been performing, he wouldn’t have touched the place with a ten foot pole.

“Hey, sweet pea!” You greeted with your signature smile. You pulled Steve into a hug and he gladly accepted it, quick to wrap his arms around your waist.

Despite your seemingly unapproachable exterior, you were nothing but a sweetheart to everyone. You loved to give hugs and was always there for a shoulder to cry on or some advice, the complete opposite of your best friend, Eddie.

“Hi,” he smiled back once you pulled away. He was grateful for the bar’s dark lighting so you hadn’t been able to see the blush on his cheeks.

“Didn’t think you’d show.”

“I wouldn’t miss this.” He wouldn’t have missed an opportunity to see you and your pretty face.

You had been very well aware of Steve’s little crush on you and you thought it was cute. The way he would blush at your flirting or sometimes stumble over his words. You thought it was funny that you of all people were able to make Steve Harrington all lovestruck.

You had to admit that you maybe, sort of liked him too. How could you not have with his constant compliments and random gifts? He has been nothing like all the other losers you had dated. Especially since he wasn’t in the metal scene. He wasn’t the kind of guy you usually went for, but there was just something about him that was so intriguing.

“Sit, sit,” you urged and Steve obeyed sitting on your left. “You are in for a treat.”

You knew that he had never been there nor had even seen Eddie perform so you were looking forward to seeing his reaction. Especially since you knew that metal wasn’t his cup of tea. He leaned more towards rock and pop and you appreciated that he was there for his friend despite not liking the genre that Eddie’s band fit into.

You turned your stool towards Steve to see that he was already looking at you. You could have sworn that he had hearts in his eyes and thought it was adorable. You would have never expected one of the most popular guys in Hawkins to actually be interested in you romantically, especially not Steve Harrington.

But there he was, looking at you like this was his first ever crush, all shy and cheeks tinted pink. His eyes always looked warm, like honey being poured into a cup of tea. They were always filled with so much adoration and the look was always just for you. You wondered how you could have gotten so lucky.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Sure. I’ll uh,” he picked up a small drink that was in front of him and scanned it. One of the drinks sounded really good, but it said it had come with an umbrella and Steve wasn’t going to order one of those in front of you. He needed to seem cool. “I have a Sam Adams.”

“Stevie,” you shook your head at him, resting a hand on his thigh. His eyes moved to where your hand had landed then looked back at you, hoping that he wasn’t too obvious. “We both know you want the umbrella drink so get the umbrella drink.”

“But-“

“I won’t judge you. And if anyone does, I’ll take care of them,” you cracked your knuckles. He knew that you were joking, but could hear a hint of seriousness in your voice. If he was being honest, he thought it was kind of hot that you were willing to beat people up for him.

You turned to the bartender and ordered the drink for Steve before he could protest and he didn’t think he could have been more in love with you at that moment. The way you always seemed to want to do everything for him warmed his heart. He felt like he was always taking care of the kids so it was nice that someone wanted to make sure he always had what he needed for a change.

The blue drink was set in front of him and he took no time to take a sip, the fruity flavors dancing on his tongue. It was definitely preferable over a beer. You watched him enjoy his beverage and admired that he still ordered what he wanted despite being afraid of what people thought.

You noticed that the lights were turned down just a bit and realized that Corroded Coffin was about to take the stage. You had to be at the very front, wanting your best friend to know just how proud you were of him just by seeing you sing the words back to him.

“Hey, the band’s about to go on, come on,” you grabbed Steve by the hand and pulled him off the stool with so much force that it caused his drink to slosh a bit.

“Where are we going?” He asked, taking another sip as he blindly followed you through the crowd. He was afraid that he would have followed you anywhere.

“To the front. Need Eds to see some familiar faces. Did you listen to the tape I gave you?” You turned to him once you got to the crowd and he took time to check out your outfit. You were dressed in what looked like a black bra under a leather vest and a pair of tight leather pants to match. The vest gave him a great view of your tattoos. Seeing all of the ink almost made him want to get one, but he had no idea what he would have gotten.

He had to drag his eyes away from your body, knowing that he’d stare at it for hours if he could. He loved the pudge of your stomach and your thick thighs. He often found himself wanting to press kisses to every inch of skin he could find, desperately wanting to worship your body.

The light shone down on your face, reflecting on your face piercings. His eyes moved to each one, first your eyebrow piercing, then the stud in your nose, and lastly, the hoop that was looped through your lip that he desperately wanted to run his tongue over.

He took note of your eye makeup and how dark it was. He found himself wanting to watch you do it, knowing that something that intricate had to have taken a long time and he wanted to see the process. The way you put on your eyeshadow and how you applied your black lipstick without it getting everywhere.

“A little bit,” he shrugged.

“So you actually didn’t listen to it all?” You put your hands on your hips. You could always see right through him.

“I’m sorry, I got busy.” You weren’t mad. You knew he had been picking up extra shifts at Family Video and didn’t really have time to listen to some silly tape.

“Sh, it’s starting,” you clapped your hands together then turned your attention to the stage as the band walked onto it. The crowd erupted in cheers but all Steve could hear was you. You were louder than anyone else.

The lights went down even more as Eddie stepped up to the mic. His eyes caught yours and he gave you a little wave before resting his hand on the mic. He caught sight of Steve next to you and nodded to himself at your close proximity. He had been trying (and failing) to set up the two of you for months. Maybe you were finally going to get together.

“How’s it going?” He asked into the mic. “We’re Corroded Coffin. On drums, we have Gareth, on bass is Jeff, and Doug is on lead guitar. I’m Eddie and this is Upside Down. Sing along if you know it.” He started to play the guitar that was around his neck and Steve found himself nodding along.

He turned to you to see you singing every single word, a huge smile on your face despite the depressing lyrics. He could see how proud of Eddie you were and if he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought you were in love with the guy.

He loved how close you and Eddie were, that you had so many things to bond over. He knew the shit that Eddie had gone through in high school and thought he deserved having someone like you in his life. Someone who understood him fully, someone who was always so supportive, someone who would be there for him no matter what.

Somewhere during the performance, Steve had ended up behind you. There was a couple trying to take his spot and he moved quickly, not wanting to get hurt. Although, he had liked the idea of you cleaning up his wounds.

He looked down at you as a slow song started and you turned to him as if the two of you had the same idea. You wrapped your arms around his neck while his went to your waist. You rested your head on his shoulder and the two of you swayed to the beat.

You had to admit that it was odd to be wrapped up in Steve’s arms, but you would have been lying if you had said that you didn’t love it. The way the two of you seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces. The way your head fit perfectly into the crook of his neck.

You two had been so wrapped up in your own little world that you hadn’t even noticed that the show had ended nor that most of the crowd had already left. You were so caught up in each other that you hadn’t even noticed that the lights had gone up nor that the band had been packing up their equipment.

You pulled back to look at Steve and he felt hypnotized by your pretty eyes. Like he’d do anything you asked just by looking into them. His gaze then moved to your lips, so soft and pretty. He wondered what they had felt like. If they had tasted like the margarita you had consumed.

He quickly pressed his lips to yours and you let out a gasp at the action before melting into him. Your hands found their way into his hair while his arms wrapped even tighter around your waist, pulling you as close to him as he possibly could.

His tongue swiped along your bottom lip, moving across your lip ring over and over he took your little whimper as a sign to continue before eventually sliding it into your mouth. Your tongues swirled around each other and you had to hold back a moan that was sitting at the back of your throat.

You reluctantly pulled away from him only for him to let out a whine at the absence of your lips. You let out a laugh at the black lipstick that has been smudged across his face and you tried to wipe it away but he only took your hand in his to prevent your from it.

“Was that so hard, Harrington?” You asked with a shake of your head.

“What-”

“We both know that you’ve wanted to kiss me for a while so I’m surprised that you finally got the balls to do it.”

“W-well-I-just-” he cut himself off, not being able to string together a proper sentence.

“Relax,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m just joking. Now come here.” You pulled his face back to yours and slotted your lips together once more, this one more slow and sloven.

“Looks like you owe me twenty bucks, Gareth,” you heard Eddie speak up and pulled away to turn in their direction. Gareth had pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed a bill to Eddie who pocketed it. You couldn’t believe that they had bet on you and Steve getting together. Or maybe you could.

“So are you going to take me out, Harrington?” You asked, turning back to the boy. His face lit up at your question. Of course you were the one to ask first.

“I’d be an idiot not to.” He smiled and you pressed your lips to his once more.

“Can you give me a ride home?”

“I’d be honored.” He took you by the hand and began to lead you to his car.

“You better be safe!” Eddie called after the two of you as you exited the bar. “I don’t want to be an uncle just yet!” The two of you just laughed at his words and walked to Steve’s car where he opened the passenger door for you before the two of you headed to your apartment to continue where you had left off.

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x chubby reader #steve harrington x plus sized reader

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sleepyangelkami · 2 days

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BLOODY NOSE (S.H)

a/n: i promise perverted (c.g) iii is in the making guys! i'm just really not in the mood to finish it just yet. you guys will have it as soon as it's done!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: your clumsy self was used to running into things and hurting yourself, so much so that you practically couldn't even feel the pain anymore. however, a little blood was enough to scare you. thankfully, steve is there to clean your bloody mess up.

warnings: blood, kinda gorey, clumsy!reader, ditzy!reader, crybaby!reader (the reader's a lot of things, okay??), worrying, anxiety, mention of knife?, attentive!steve, pre-established relationship, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 💙

words: 1,648

clumsy was your middle name, at least it should be.

you can't recall the last time you'd gone a full week without falling over and skidding your knee or banging your head into the pole you were walking towards. something about hurting yourself came so easy to you. perhaps it was because you were a buzzing ball of energy and no cones would stand in your way.

and steve harrington couldn't have you any other way.

allthough, he'd love if you'd actually look where you were going, he didn't really mind shutting the cupboards after you to make sure you didn't hit your head or switch off the gas when you were finished baking so you didn't light the house on fire, or even snatching your arm and forcing you to one side of the street so you didn't walk straight into the pole right in front of you.

however, sometimes he truly did wish you wouldn't be so clumsy.

as cute as it was, he couldn't deny that he was a worrier. a worrier until his last breath. your every move had him on his tip toes, making him turn grey in his prime and forcing the wrinkled lines on his forehead.

there was no denying that steve was sort of alike a mother to everyone he let into his life. a father? no, no. a mother. which was sort of odd, seeing as he was also your boyfriend.

often times you were strolling into family video with another bruise or scratch. you didn't mind though, because there was no blood. truthfully, steve was always much more worried than you were, trying to hold your leg still as he patched a plaster on it.

you were always swinging your dangling legs across those tables.

as time progressed, so did your relationship.

steve supposed that he never stopped being worried, he just began being prepared. plasters in his pockets, always watching you with a close eye.

until he wasn't.

it was late in the afternoon, a chopping knife in your hand. you were cutting up some fruits, wooden chopping board soaked in many different colours due to the juices that fell from them. steve knew how you loved your snacks in the evening, especially fruit, you had this awful craving for them. perhaps it was due to the dehydration you had when you constantly forgot to drink water. usually, steve had to follow you around with a water bottle.

usually, this was steve's task.

he didn't often leave you alone with a knife. actually, come to think about it he never left you alone with a knife. he knew that the outcome would not be as blissful as one would imagine.

even now, after you'd begged to cut up your own fruit. you'd told him that you were a lady, not a toddler. he had to agree. and as nervous as he was, he sat by the counter. his eyes were strained on your hands, chopping up the fruit.

the knife slid from each piece of fruit, you grasping the little chunks and tossing them in a bowl. "you want any?" you questioned, back sort of turned to him as you sliced the pear.

"no, honey, i'm okay―" smiling at you before realising he was smiling at you meaning your face was turned away from the fruit. "eyes on the fruit, sweetheart." though there was obvious worry laced in his tone, his own throat clenching at the mere thought of you practically slicing your hand off.

honestly? it wasn't too far fetched with what you'd done in the past.

steve watched as you dropped the knife a little too carelessly onto the chopping board before sweeping the bowl into your hands. he'd breathed out a sigh of relief, thankful the worrying and bubbling anxiety of you slicing a limb off was over.

unfortunately, that feeling of relief? yeah, it didn't last too long.

"See that wasn't so hard―" before he could so much as utter out a word of caution, much too wrapped up in the whole knife business, the open cabinet drawer was hitting you right in the face, a loud "ow!" falling from your lips.

"shit." instantly standing from his seat, making his way over towards you.

holding your hand up to your face, you uttered the muffled words. "'m okay, i jus―" turning to place the bowl of fruit onto the counter before "ow!" slapping your face against the same cabinet drawer.

"jesus christ." panic evident in his voice. "just―just don't move, okay?" perhaps that was the best idea, seeing as you moving would possibly result in loosing some form of a limb.

truthfully, it didn't hurt that much.

there was a stinging pain in your nose but you'd felt that familliar feeling many times before. it was almost as if your body had grown numb to the pain. perhaps that was why it was so easy to keep repeating the same mistakes, your body simply didn't care enough to stop.

you said ow due to the pressure though also because you deemed it was sort of necessary. you hit something, you shout "ow" right?

you felt him before you could hear him. "you okay? c'mere, baby, show me a look." the bowl of fruit was discarded on the counter top while one of hands moved to shove the cupboard press closed so you were in a safe proximity, tossing the end of the knife over and tipping it into the sink, out of reach.

finally, his hands came down to your own wrists, gently maneuvering them away from your face so he could take a look at your nose. "'m okay." you quickly quipped, knowing you'd endured much worse than a little bang against some wood. "really, it doesn't hurt that bad." did it even hurt at all? perhaps the feeling of hurt hadn't truly settled in.

steve didn't listen, tipping your head back by his finger against your chin. "doesn't hurt that bad?" you nodded though your head stung a little just by doing so. "yeah, well you're bleeding."

he should have known not to utter those words.

almost instantly, he turned to grab some of the kitchen paper that had been placed on the table, using the roll to grab a couple sheets, knowing you were too far from the bathroom.

bleeding?

the word kept repeating in your head and suddenly you felt dizzy. perhaps it was the hit of the cabinet drawer against your head or maybe it was the way you pushed your hand up to your nose, gazing down at the red crimson that painted your delicate skin.

why did your nose suddenly hurt so bad?

perhaps it was the anxiety building up in your cluttered chest. whatever it was, you could feel stinging in your eyes now, not from any physical pain but instead the pretty silhouette of tears that danced in your waterline, all glossy.

steve took notice of your glassy eyes before you could utter a word. "hey, hey, wh's wrong? does it hurt?" you nodded your head in agreement, despite the dizziness, despite the fact that you didn't know if it was all that entirely true.

he placed the kitchen paper against your nose ever so gently, featherlight. "i didn't... i didn't mean to." your voice came out breathless, sort of wobbly as if you really were going to cry.

steve felt his heart ache a little at that. "no, no, i know you didn't, hey." his large hand moved it's way towards your waist, soothing the skin gently. however, he was suddenly aware of your glance cast down on your hand, covered in a little of the blood from your nose. "hey, c'mon, pretty girl, 's just a little blood, no biggie, okay?"

once again, you nodded as a response, sniffing slightly.

"stupid." you mumbled through the tissue held against your nose, stumping the bleeding. it caused the word to come out muffled, practically unheard.

"you're not stupid." he gushed. "it was an accident, it happens."

however this time, you shook your head. "no, not me." his brows pinched together a little, taking the napkin from your nose, dried blood at the base of your nose. "the stupid cabinet door." grouching like a child.

he couldn't help but grin at you, wiping the dried blood from the bottom of your nose. "yeah, stupid cabinet door." he agreed, thankful your fear of blood didn't last too long.

you see, if it was any other situation, you probably would have cried.

but when steve stood so close to you, the scent of him enveloping you, arms practically encaging you. there was something about it that made the world stop, that made you realise a little blood wasn't all that bad. hey, you got attention from the world's best boyfriend, right?

surely, that had to count for something.

half an hour passed, you laid on the couch with a pack of frozen peas against your already bruising nose while leaning against steve's arm. he used his other one to hold a fork, feeding you the chopped up fruit. "better?" he mumbled, unable to catch your eye when you were so engrossed in the tv in front of you.

practically dazed by the animation, you managed to nod your head. "better." mumbling back, barely uttering the whole word.

steve couldn't help but roll his eyes upon realising how much special treatment he was giving you. truthfully, he was thankful you were okay but there was only one thing on his mind. "never lettin' you cut fruit again." murmuring practically to himself.

however, you heard. you snapped your head up, dodging the strawberry with a shocked look on your face. "what why?" he stared at you with a little shock. "i didn't even get cut!"

he rolled his eyes, shoving the strawberry through your lips. "just eat your fruit."

main masterlist/steve's masterlist

a/n: short, sweet, i'm gonna fall asleep.

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 5 hours

Text

King of Hearts - a Mafia!Steve AU coming May 1st! (Featuring Mafia!Eddie)

Your father, head of one of the major crime ring families living in Chicago. Your husband, a marriage for alliance. You, an heiress to the proverbial throne caught in the middle. Time and distance never quell your feelings, only solidifying them once more when Steve Harrington makes his way back into town. Seemingly destined to be separated from the one man who has always held your heart, but Steve has his own agenda as he begins to set his plans into motion.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #king of hearts #mafia!steve harrington #eddie munson #mafia!eddie munson #KOH #KOH moodboard #steve x dove #little dove

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jansri17 · 15 hours

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SweetPea

WARNINGS: fluff *mostly fluff* kissing

Age rating 13+ we could say

🎂It’s my birthday so why not make a birthday story🍰

Once upon a time, in the bustling city of Chicago, Joe Keery was buzzing with excitement. It was his partner's birthday, and he couldn't wait to spoil them rotten and make their day extra special. As he tiptoed into their cozy apartment, armed with balloons and a homemade cake, he couldn't help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

"Hey there, my love," Joe whispered, sneaking up behind his partner and wrapping his arms around their waist. "Looks like someone's getting older today, huh?"

His partner turned around, their eyes lighting up at the sight of Joe's mischievous grin. "Hey, sweetheart," they replied, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. "Getting older, but definitely wiser."

Joe chuckled, placing a party hat on his partner's head. "Wiser, huh? Well, how about we put that wisdom to the test and see if you can blow out all these candles in one go?"

With a playful roll of their eyes, his partner accepted the challenge, blowing out the candles with ease. As they dug into the delicious cake, Joe couldn't help but shower his partner with affectionate pet names.

"Hey there, sweet pea, did I ever tell you how lucky I am to have you in my life?" Joe said, his eyes filled with adoration as he watched his partner's face light up with joy.

His partner grinned, reaching across the table to squeeze Joe's hand. "You might have mentioned it once or twice," they teased, their heart swelling with love for the man who never failed to make them feel cherished.

As the day turned into night, Joe and his partner danced around their apartment, laughing and whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears. And as they curled up together on the couch, basking in the warmth of each other's presence, Joe couldn't help but thank the stars for bringing his beloved into his life.

"Happy birthday, my love," Joe whispered, pressing a tender kiss to his partner's forehead. "Here's to many more years of laughter, love, and unforgettable moments together."

And as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms, Joe knew that there was nowhere else in the world he'd rather be than right there, with his beloved by his side.

#steve harrington x y/n #joe keery #djo #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader

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taintedcigs · 5 months

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˚ 　　　 . ✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄

vol 1; made to break your heart — king!steve harrington x fgirl!reader

summary: in which you see your ex making out with someone else leaving you with no choice but to fall right into the lap of his enemy, steve harrington. (wc: 5.2k+)

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, or*l sx (receiving and giving oop), some good ol’ bj, drinking, drgs, weed basically, no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, LOTS OF PRAISES, they are both switches but idk if that counts??, nicknames! reader is kinda heartless basically a maneater, steve is an arrogant bastard, and hes got a big BIG di–heart. some lil’ eddie mention that u might miss if u blink!

authors note: i am kinda thinking a pt.2 of this IM open to all ideas, but i kinda am thinking of making it like a mini-series? and maybe introduce eddie in the second part, and then make part 3 steddie? mmmhmm? what do we think? my asks r open for all and any ideass anyways not proofread bc of my lazy ass. ignore any mistakes.

please like + reblog + interact to support me ! thank u ily

read vol 2 here

Booming music filled your ears, sweaty bodies swaying away from you but you couldn't care less.

Whispers from your back, collected gasps, and all you could do was watch.

Fingertips clutched on your dress in fury, gaze unable to tear away from the scene playing out right in front of your eyes.

Tina’s lips were locked onto Billy’s, you thought it was pretty soon to be swapping salivas considering it had been barely two days since he broke up with you.

The red cup in your hand was almost smushed from the hardened impact of your fists, with a quick go, you downed it, ignoring Tommy and Carol’s cackles as they watched you.

With a roll of your eyes, you were quick to turn away from them, ignoring your friends calling out for your name—you didn’t need this, you didn’t need to be pampered. You just needed a generous amount of drinks, and maybe someone to keep yourself busy with.

Tina and her lame-ass party could go fuck themselves.

Billy was an asshole, no real surprise there. And you didn’t care, because the relationship had run its course, again. Tough shit. You were used to it. Another break up with him.

You didn’t care about it, the only thing you cared about was him crossing the line, making out with another girl in front of everyone.

Each break, the two of you fucked whoever you wanted to fuck, just to end up together again, drunkenly. But this time he made it everyone’s problem, and you couldn’t let him get away with that.

The whispers, and the collective giggles every time you passed by were making your blood boil.

You couldn’t let that dipshit ruin your reputation, you weren’t going to pathetically pine over someone who could barely make you cum. And you weren’t going to let any of those gossiping assholes think otherwise.

You stumble onto the porch with a string of curses leaving your pouty lips, quick to fish out a joint courtesy to that Munson kid, always providing you with the best weed, either free or cheap, depending on how much you adjusted your skirt or batted your lashes at him.

Maybe, you should pay him a visit. For fucks sake, you’ve seen him play, and he could roll a joint blindfolded, he knew how to put those fingers to use.

You could just imagine the scorching look on Billy’s face, his velvety lips scrunched together, a sickening feeling sinking into his stomach, knowing that you fucked Eddie Munson, the guy he always went to get his weed from.

The idea of it brings a delicious smirk to your lips. But it wouldn’t be enough, no. You needed something more, something bigger.

“Need a lighter, honey?” A coarse, smooth tone has your head cocking, the joint sitting on your lips rising with the impact.

Steve fucking Harrington.

Falling right into your lap.

Billy would’ve flipped the fuck out if he knew. He always warned you about him, telling you that Harrington was off limits, no matter what. Well, until now.

Your gaze locks with his, dangerous, filthy, and exactly where you want him. Before you can drag out the joint to answer him, he acts quicker, brushing his fingertips on your chin, almost tugging you closer to him, he licks his lips, wetting them with a chuckle.

With a gentle flicker of his lighter, the tip of the joint smolders, casting a warm glow to your face that accentuates the smirk curved on your lips.

Your dress rides up your thighs when you straighten up, taking an inhale from the joint, you blow the smoke in his face without a care. He eyes each of your movements, the stupid grin sitting on his lips growing wider the more his eyes move up and down your body. You almost want to chuckle at how easy this is.

But you also know Steve’s type, you have to make them chase you a little bit, give them a little thrill, before you finally give in. And you had already been doing that, for the longest time.

Always teasing him, but never giving in. Your hands always brushed past his bicep just enough to let him know you were interested, eyelashes always fluttered at him, teeth biting on your bottom lip as you checked him out.

The little game had been fun, but you never plucked up the courage to fully give in to him, Billy would’ve lost his shit. Besides, you knew his type, and you didn’t want to be one of his other trophies. And you didn’t have to be, you just had to use him to get yourself off, and piss Billy off. The second you walked into a room with him, you knew the party would be buzzing with the gossip.

You had the perfect excuse, the perfect excuse to finally divulge your fantasies, all the cheerleaders always blabbered about him, calling him an ass, but an ass who knew how to properly use his fingers and that dangerous mouth.

Exactly what you fucking need.

You had been pent up enough for the months you were with Billy.

This would be a little reward.

“All alone?” He was smug, he absolutely knew about the break-up and possibly saw Tina and Billy’s show, so he knew this was the perfect opportunity to have you in his palm. In a fucked up way, that made you want him more, the unspoken game grew more intense with that gaze of his, he had the same idea you did. The fucker was smooth.

You nod curtly, not wanting to just fall into his lap. No matter how good he looked in those Levi’s jeans that cupped his ass perfectly. Why was he so fucking interesting to you? Arms all toned, face adorned with tiny moles, he almost seemed mystical.

And oh god, his hair. That soft, perfectly layered chestnut brown locks, so effortlessly cool that you just wanted to run your hair through it, tugging at it the more his lips sucked on your clit.

God, the thought had your thighs pressing together uncomfortably.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be all alone at a party,” he pouted mockingly. “Where’s that boy toy of yours?” He tutted, hand dangerously planted on your back, ghosting over your hips.

That elicited a giggle out of you, “Didn’t you hear all the rumors, pretty boy?” You leaned further, hand extending to offer him a huff. His attention was somewhere else though, eyes widening the more he admired you in that dress, showing off your curves in all the right way, tits almost busting out of your chest.

God, he had been waiting for this moment, an opportunity to have you, the second he fucking met you. But Billy got to you first.

“We broke up.” That brought his attention back to you, a smirk played on his lips when he leaned into your hand, lips wrapping around the tip of the joint, he sucked on it but his dark amber eyes remained on you.

With an inhale, “Good.” He mumbled, “knew that dipshit couldn’t handle someone like you.”

“You need someone better take care of you…” he hummed, nose dipping closer to your features, “someone who knows how to handle all of this.” His hands were placed on your waist, traveling all over your body.

Your breath was quick to get caught in your throat, a whine leaving your lips with how forward he was being.

And shit, you understood the appeal, you always did, but this time, you were sure your hunger for him grew faster than you intended to. You were in his palm, and you were more than okay with it.

“Yeah?” You teased with a giggle, head falling on his shoulder, brain getting fuzzier.

“I can make you forget him.” He’s bold, and it has your thighs rubbing together.

“By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember his name, or how to walk.” He’s so close to your ear, breath fanning against your breath as you almost shudder, but you play it off.

“You’re all talk, Harrington.” You licked your glossy lips, head slightly tilted to the side, teasing him just enough.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know you’ve heard the rumors, and I know you want this as much as you do.” The cocky bastard licks his lips, and you want nothing more than to bite them.

“Oh, yeah?”

“The way you press your thighs together, that little whine you just did when I barely touched you… Tells me all I need to fuckin’ know.” He whispers, and you almost whine out when a sloppy kiss is planted on your neck, harsh and needy.

“You’ll be screamin’ and beggin’ for me, angel.”

Your brows raise in interest. “That a promise?”

“Uh-huh.” He gives you a boyish grin.

“You’re on, King Steve.”

It didn’t take the two of you long enough to find an empty bedroom, lips, and teeth clashing as soon as the door closed.

The wandering eyes of the party had followed you up until that point, so you knew as soon as the two of you left the room with your sexed-up looks, everyone would know.

And you would finally have a sweet release after months of Billy’s selfishness.

A win-win.

You let his curious hands wander around your body, quick to almost rip off your dress, he wants to savor this moment, wants the image of your body engraved in his mind, stuck into the back of it just so he can fish it out whenever he can.

But he’s impatient, he’s waited for this. Wanted you longer than ever, and finally, you’re putty at his hands, ready to take whatever he’s going to give—or at least that’s what he thinks— And he’s feeling greedy. His mouth is pressed onto yours, sucking on your tongue before he lowers you down on the bed, you giggle softly when you sink into it, and Steve has never felt like this before, the hunger in his eyes ignites a spark of pleasure within you, quick to dampen your thighs with need.

A shocked gasp escapes your lips once he unhooks your bra with his left hand. Oh, he’s good. “Pretty baby,” he murmurs before his mouth is latched onto your nipples. “Perfect fuckin’ tits,” He groans into your chest, hand toying with your lace panties, shaky breaths escape his lips as he earns more whines from you.

You look ethereal, with your mouth hung open, teeth biting on your glossed-up lips, head thrown back. Just like he knew you’d be.

The more he circles around your panties the more you feel that pent-up desire burning inside of you, all those orgasmless months with Billy, and Steve was going to elicit more with just a flick of his fingers than you ever had through the entire relationship.

Maybe that’s why he always called you a bitch.

“Steve,” your whines come out pathetically as he looks up at you, layered hair already disheveled and that goddamn smirk sitting on his pretty lips.

“Already beggin’, honey?” He mocks with a grin, tugging on your nipple, all teeth and no mercy. His tongue is making its way further down, soft, wet strokes tickle your body.

“Fuck off,” You spit at him, barely, words dying down your throat when he’s quick to rip away your lacy panties. His light honey eyes are so much darker now, head thrown back when he visually drinks in your glistening pussy.

You look so fucking perfect, thighs spread apart, him between them, mouth hung open and ready to take all of him. He makes a mental image of it, burning it to the back of his mind.

“C’mon sweetheart, let King Steve know what you want, what you really need.” His voice is smooth and coarse, fingertips circling around your clit harder the more you whine for him.

“Do you need my fingers, baby? My mouth?” You moan at that, audibly. It has him chuckling darkly once he realizes how depraved you really are, one touch from him and you’re already soaking his fingers, whining like a pretty little slut.

If he knew how much you’d be such a good girl for him, he would’ve done this much sooner. Would’ve ruined your pretty little pussy for anyone else, Billy would’ve had no chance over him.

“Has that asshole not been makin’ you cum?” It was more of a rhetorical question, but the way you shook your head with a pout, had him melting. He really had you and didn’t know how to take good care of you? What a fucking loser.

“Holy fuckin’ shit… not even with his mouth?” His eyes widened, he really didn’t think Billy would be that bad, everything was working to his advantage.

“He- uh- he never…” You stammered, getting uncharacteristically embarrassed because it was, truly embarrassing. All those months with him, and half the time you faked it. Selfish prick.

“Never? Oh, baby…” He coos with a dangerous smirk, lip all pouty and mocking, “No wonder you were so desperate for me. You really needed this, huh?” He almost gave a chuckle, caressing your pussy with his middle finger, getting you all ready.

“Jerk-” You want to curse out his cockiness, tell him you don’t need him. Keep him grounded, but the whines he’s pulling out of you are enough to make him grin like a Cheshire cat.

Your breath gets shakier when his finger easies into your walls. “Sshh, relax, baby.” He coos.

“I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good, doll.” His fingers are slickly working their way in and out of you, filthy sounds mingling with your moans as his nose brushes over your clit, causing your hips to start rocking up to him.

“Had this pretty little thing, and didn’t even know how to take care of it, hmm? What a waste,” He hummed sweetly, index finger thrusting in and out of your sloppy walls.

“If I had known you’d be this fuckin’ soaked, I would’ve done this much sooner,” he taunts, fingers curling inside of you, enjoying the way you gasp out and buck your hips for more.

He dives in, pressing the flat of his tongue against your swollen lips, enjoying, fully tasting you. With a satisfied hum, he brings his eyes to meet yours, all fucked out, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, had this sweet pussy but never even tasted it… What a fuckin’ dumbass… I’ll give you what you deserve, baby…”

He’s going to explode soon, if he doesn’t make you cum and then fuck you senseless. He can feel his balls draw up more and more, each time you whine, each time you plead for his name as a whisper.

He flicks the tip meticulously, giving you attention everywhere and anywhere, just like he knew you’d like it. “You know, I usually would never do this on a first date,” He mocks, grinning all mouthy and you attempt to dive his mouth further into you, to shut his arrogant ass up, and that fucker resists, “But god, you’re an exception… just begging to be fucked, you deserve this honey, can’t be selfish with you.”

His licks are heavenly, sucking on your clit like a man possessed, and his name falls from your lips in such a filthy way that you don’t even care how pathetic you look anymore. You accept it, you let him take full control, trashing beneath him.

“You like that, angel?” His words are muffled into your cunt, the pad of his thumb still circling around your entrance while he sucks on your clit. Your head sinks further into the softness of the bed, eyes squeezed shut, breaking apart with just his tongue. He moans into your soppy walls, sending a shock wave of pleasure to ripple through you.

He doesn’t even need your words, the visual of you squirming underneath him is enough to have him all bricked up, you taste like the sweetest sin. Velvety walls so tight that it has him bucking his hips into the bed, desperate for some friction, he needs you. And he’s sure he never wanted someone this badly before.

“So fuckin’ special, aren’t you? Such a desperate baby…” You can feel his bulge against your thigh, sitting prettily and throbbing against his boxers. You always heard how big he was, but fuck, you finally get to feel it, and it’s glorious.

And he twitched in his boxers just from eating you out? God, he was fucking perfect.

He dips his head just enough to muffle out a few more words, “I wanna taste you fully, angel. Want you to soak my tongue.” He dives in before you can reply, eliciting dirtier moans from you, alternating between his fingers and his tongue.

He doesn’t care about anything else but you, he wants you panting for him, cumming all over his tongue while you scream his name.

Your thighs start to shake once he pushes two fingers inside of you, gentle but rough enough to have you squirming and bucking your hips more into him, you’re at his mercy, and he loves how tight you are. Just the thought of your tight cunt milking his cock dry has his eyes rolling.

“S-steve,” you breathe out roughly, enjoying how his tongue is licking up that sweet spot. “I know baby,” he taunts all cockily, admiring the way your thighs shake with need. You’re going to cum soon and that prick can feel it.

“N-need to cum, please,” your pleading is unintentional, you just need a desperate release, and he’s so fucking good.

“Cum for me, angel, be a good girl for me, yeah?” Your eyes squeeze shut at the praise, and he takes note of that, admiring the way you tighten around his tongue and fingers at the praise.

His fingers are quick, making you scream out his name louder and louder. “That’s it pretty girl… cum for me.” Arrogant fuck, you wish to say, but the way he laps up your juices has you whining like a little slut. And his smirk grows wider, a wet patch forming on his boxers with how hard he’s straining them, pathetically needing to be inside of you.

You tremble, trash, squirm beneath him, his touches and stripes of licks finally enough to have your stomach twisting, with final screams of “Steve!” and “F-fuck!” the coil inside of you snaps, orgasm overtaking you with such force that your eyes are glued shut.

A gush of sweetness trickles along Steve’s tastebuds, you taste so fucking good that it drives him even crazier, lapping up at your juices and not stopping until he’s sure you’ve collapsed under him.

He’s grinning like crazy, lips all glossy with your juices, and he looks so fucking pretty like this. It makes you want to return the favor.

So badly. And the need to know if the title Big Daddy Steve really suits him or not stirs your stomach, your core pooling with need. If it’s true, your mouth waters with the desire to have him, he looks delicious, and you know he’ll look much more yummy while he’s fucking your mouth, pretty praises leaving his pale rosy lips.

The avoidant part of you screams at you to not do this, but your core is begging for more.

Maybe, just maybe, you could return the favor but still toy with him, take control, and mess with his mind.

Enough to have him begging, pleading for more from you.

As if he can hear your dilemma, he drags you back in, wrapping his fist around your hair as he pulls you toward him and draws your bottom lip into his mouth, all teeth, sucking with an exaggerated hum, “Do you like the way you taste on my tongue?” He mutters against your ear, licking a stripe of your neck.

Jesus, fuck. Now, you had to return the favor.

“Tastes so sweet,” you giggle, you are going to suck him off, but you are going to lead the way now. A smirk gleams on your lips. Teasingly, your hands trace the edge of his boxers, enough to earn a rude whine from him as you squeeze him through the harsh fabric.

You’re quick to yank his shirt off of him without a warning, and he’s quick to flaunt his well-muscled, heaving chest.

Asshole.

With a strong flip, you manage to straddle him, taking him by surprise while you grin at him, and to say Steve is intrigued would be an understatement, his cock twitches at your brow raise. “What are you doing, baby?” He still manages to be so cool that your thighs ache.

“Returning the favor,” you shrug with a smirk, eliciting low grumbles from him when you lower yourself on his chest, leaving sloppy kisses, mouth tracing a trail that leads to his delicious v-line.

You lift the elastic away from his waist, freeing his throbbing tip, the red tip slaps against his abdomen, and your brows pinch together in astonishment admiring it.

Jesus fucking Christ, he was not all talk.

King Steve, indeed.

You had to hand it down to those gossipy cheerleaders, they had described him to a t, perfect girth, slightly bent to the left, and big, really fucking big, you probably needed to use your hands along with your glossed lips to take all of him in.

He chuckled at your expression, basking in the glory of your widened eyes, “Like what you see, angel?” Another taunt, but you ignore it with a smirk this time. Pooling saliva in your mouth, you spit on the angry tip, Steve hisses at the impact and watches with a low grumble once you wrap your palm around his shaft.

He reveled in how perfectly your soft manicured fingers looked around his delicate bubblegum pink tip, attending to his every need.

Your warm fingers are working their way around his cock, coating his length with your spit as you tugged at it gently, causing his eyes to nearly roll back in his head.

He tries his best to swallow his groans, but his hips desperately jerk up at your hand, desperately fucking it, rendering you speechless.

“You like that, baby?” Your tone was teasing, and if he didn’t feel like he was about to explode he would’ve gripped your hair and fucked your mouth with such roughness that all that you would be thinking about would be his huge cock, punishing you for being such a tease, but he was the one wrapped around your finger now, literally.

“S’big, Stevie,” you coyly batted your lashes at him, and a shuddered breath left your parted lips as you looked up at him between his thighs.

He almost wept at the sight, shit shit shit, you were all of his dreams wrapped into one, and he could barely speak. Your palm easily glided down his length, saliva working as a lubricant as you teased him further.

Your other palm was quick to cup his balls, massaging them and giving them a gentle tug, while your other hand still glided down his length, enjoying the way he struggled not to let out loud groans in your hold.

Without any other word, your head tilted down, quick to mouth the tip of his intense tip, it was almost hot to touch, waiting to be attended to, so needy. Just like him.

You swipe his tip, collecting his pearl of pre-cum gently. “Jesus f-fuck!” Pathetic coarse whines leave his parted lips, he lets you take control, eyes clenched tightly.

You give his tip more kitten licks, trying to get your throat ready for his lengthy cock. “Just like that, honey,” He praises with his head thrown back, he avoids looking into your eyes, knowing that the fucked out look on your face as your pouty lips wrapped around his cock would be enough to have him spill down your throat in seconds.

And it would be a bit embarrassing for Steve, to lose his reputation to you in a matter of seconds.

“More…” He demands, but you ignore it while you continue your teasing sweet flicks on his tip, feeling him twitch around your tongue. “Pretty girl,” He whines and jolts his pelvis for more, desperate and needy. Just where you want him.

“Mhmm?” You whine with your mouth full, it sends a rush of pleasure through him, “Suck it, baby,” he whines again, this time pained with need. Your greedy eyes smile up at him and he’s sure you have done something to him.

Because he never wanted to cum this bad before. He wants to wipe that smirk off your face while you gag on his cum, struggling to swallow all of it as it spills down your cheeks, glistening your breasts, ruining that gloss forever, and instead, you walk around with his semen all over your face and lips.

It pulls a twisted groan out of him, you make him feel so perverted and he can’t fucking help himself. You finally accept his pleas, and with one glorious tug, you finally wrap your lips around his cock, fully, getting teary-eyed each time you try to take more of his flesh.

Steve can’t help himself, his head is dipped down, and he immediately feels his balls ache at the visual of you, crystal tears staining your cheeks, and even then, that lewd look did not leave your eyes.

“F-fucking slut, just like that,” His groans are uncontrollable, hips bucking further into your mouth. You don’t let him yank you by your hair, just yet. You let your mouth adjust to him, sucking him deep and tight.

“Such a good girl, suckin’ my cock with all she has, mmpf.” His praise has your core clenching, damn him.

He admires your pouty lips fully wrapped around his flesh, sucking and hollowing your cheeks as you wail for him, “Shit, shit, baby, l-look so pretty with my cock down your throat, mmhmm…” He coos, words incoherent.

“Will look even prettier with my cum shooting down that throat, isn’t that right, angel?” You hummed in agreement, looking up at him with your dark, hooded gaze, an unintentional grin playing on your lips.

He mumbled a string of curses, praising you, worshipping you. You continued your stroke on his base harshly, working the head with your tongue, a new angle that had him go absolutely insane.

“Mmmhmm, need your cum, Stevie.” You mumbled, momentarily letting your hand do all the work before you dove back in, taking his stiff cock deep in your throat, he had been struggling before, but your words were his last straw.

Because it was exactly what he fucking wanted, owning your mouth, and fucking it with ease.

His palm turned into a fist the second he held your hair, yanking it down as he pushed you further down on his cock, enjoying the way it hit the back of your throat, you gagged around it, all teary and Steve’s head fell back in pure ecstasy. “Y-yes, yes, fuck!”

“Gonna cum, baby, mmmpf, god-” He panted, his cock twitching more and more you sucked on him.

“Gonna fuckin’ s-shit-” He shuddered, thighs shaking while your throat continued to squeeze the tip of his cock, and once you gave his balls some more attention, he knew he was a goner.

“Fuckin’ give i-it to you,” He barely let out when his eyes glued shut together, almost rolling to the back of his head when you gagged around his cock, with a glorious groan of “Fuuuuuck!” Steve came in your mouth, hips still bucking into your throat as a spurt of his warm load spilled down your throat, coating it nicely.

You only let go of his softened cock with a ‘pop!’ sound once you made sure you sucked him dry, swallowing all of it while Steve watched you with such a dazzled look that it almost made you want to do more with him. But, no. This had been enough.

You enjoyed his salty taste in your mouth and the way his fingers and mouth worked inside of you. And that was enough for you. For now.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He grumbled a chuckle that had you grinning and winking at him. God, men really were easy. One blowjob and Steve was already looking at you like you were the most precious thing in his life.

You had to go easy on him, tell him that you weren’t going to let him fuck you.

Because you got what you wanted, an orgasm, and the reputation of fucking “King Steve”, everyone would be gossiping about the two of you by now, it was a matter of time before that douchebag found out.

He tried to pull you in for a kiss, but you were quick to dodge it, getting up from the softness of the bed with a groan while Steve curiously eyed you.

His brows were quick to pinch together, watching the way you easily slipped your tight dress on your body while you admired yourself in the mirror. Rubbing your lips together to fix your gloss, fingertips cleaning over the smeared mascara running down your cheeks.

“W-what are you doing?” He inquired, his face quick to fall down.

You shrugged nonchalantly, “I want to go dance,” brows then raised in excitement “Ooohh! Maybe I could get some more weed, have you seen Munson around?” You questioned, that lustful look still dancing in your eyes.

“Uhhh…” he stammered, still confused on what the fuck just happened. “Y-yeah I think-”

“Thank fuckin’ god!” You hummed with a giggle, rushing over to his side, sloppily planting a kiss on his cheek, all shiny and smeared with his juices.

You were halfway through the door when Steve’s protests stopped you. “Wait, wait, wait!” He straightened up, softened cock and all, his glistening chest was begging to be touched, but as you decided, not today.

“What the fuck? I thought-”

“What?” You asked cluelessly, brows raised.

“We were just getting started, angel,” He tried, but his voice wasn’t as arrogant or confident as it was before, and it took you so much to not let your lips twitch into a smirk.

One orgasm and he was already broken? Steve was fun to play with it.

Your giggle at him would’ve felt mocking if you didn’t do it so prettily, Steve just watched in awe.

The poor boy.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, would you?” You tilted your head with a pout. Oh, you were good, he had to give you that.

Because once he literally got a taste of you, he wasn’t going to stop.

His lips kissed his teeth, it was surely hypocritical of him to think this was unfair since that’s what he always did to other girls.

“But–”

“See you around, pretty boy,” you cooed, throwing a wink toward his way, and shutting the door with that. Leaving Steve all alone.

He had never felt this way before. The way his cock twitched just the thought of you again had his mind flooding, you used him, gave him the best fucking head of his life, and then left.

Maybe this game would’ve pissed him off if someone else did it to him, if it was any other girl he would’ve lost interest, thinking she was trying too fucking hard, but it was you.

And all it did was drive Steve crazier, and make the chase all the more fun, and Steve was nothing, if not persuasive.

#steve harrington x reader #king!steve x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington #king!steve harrington

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lovebugism · 2 months

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can i request angst☹️☹️shy!reader barely ever talking and being soo hyperaware of everything and steve slowly breaks her out of her shell? then she overhears him saying she talks too much and she just feels bad and reverts into herself

Angst w happy endingn if possible please ily!!🫶🏼

ty for requesting!! — steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)

Your smile is wide and unknowing. Steve thinks there’s something extra special about it because you don’t even realize it’s there. “—And since Eddie was working the register, he let me take one of the new tapes for free. You know, to try it or whatever, and he was all like, ‘flattery works with me,’ and I was like, Steve would keel over if he was here right now.”

A giggle spills from your mouth when your rambling ceases, lips curling and eyes crinkling.

Steve blinks at you with his own absentminded beam, too busy thinking about how pretty you are to react properly to your story.

Your smile sobers slightly. “What?”

“Nothing,” he assures with the shake of his neatly styled head, rogue strands of chestnut hair draping his forehead. He shrugs and leans his elbows over the Family Video counter you stand across. “You’re just… You’re talking a lot. ’S nice.”

Your face heats. Your chest burns with a similar fire. Your eyes widen ‘cause you didn’t realize that you hadn’t shut up until now. “Oh… Sorry—”

“No, it’s good!” he tells you, laughing. “It’s a compliment.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah! I mean, I used to have to bribe you to get you to talk about your day. Remember that?”

Benny’s Burgers was your very best friend at the start of your relationship. Steve would always buy your dinner — not in exchange for you to talk exactly, but in the hopes that the additional time spent with you would help you open up. It did. Most of the time, anyway.

Your nose scrunches. “I thought you took me out because you liked me?”

“I took you out ‘cause I liked you and because the sugar rush from the milkshakes made you talk more.”

You nod once. “Right.”

The conversation ebbs. The store gets eerily silent without your voices to fill it. Steve, undeterred by the lapse in dialogue, flashes you a lopsided smile. “Wanna show me the tapes you bought?”

“Yeah,” you murmur and push off the counter.

Steve watches you over his shoulder while you saunter down the hallway where your bag is kept. The breakroom door squeals open and shut again. A voice sounds suddenly from beside him. “Nice job, dingus,” Robin chides, gritty and montoned.

His head snaps to the other side, brows twisted with confusion. “What?”

“You hurt her feelings,” she answers like it’s obvious, dropping a stack of VHS tapes on the counter with a heavy thud.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You said she was talking a lot.”

“I said that I liked it!”

Robin rolls her ocean-blue eyes, huffing ‘cause he’s too oblivious to get the point. “Yeah, but if I said, Wow, you have a ton of gel in your hair— but it’s styled really nice today, it’d give you a whole complex. Wouldn’t it?”

The make-believe compliment is dreadfully backhanded. Steve’s face floods with a gentle horror, the realization of a fallacy he hadn’t realized he’d made. “Shit…”

“Exactly,” Robin deadpans. “Now go take care of your girlfriend, dingus.”

He finds you in the breakroom, idling in place. You’ve got the cassettes in your hands, and you fidget with them between anxious fingers — like you were planning to come out sometime, but not quite yet.

You tense when the door creaks open, relaxing again when Steve enters.

“Whatcha doing?” he wonders with a crooked, pink smile.

“Getting the tapes,” you answer in a mousy voice, waving the pieces of plastic in your hand.

The door clicks shut behind him. He inches towards you, fond and terribly soft with it. “I missed you,” he confesses in a faint murmur. His wide palms settle on your sides. You warm instantly under his touch.

“I was gone for two seconds,” you respond with a quiet laugh.

“Yeah. And I felt like I was dying.”

You meet his pout with a small smile, blinking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I just love being around you, alright? Sue me,” he argues, squeezing softly at your hips. With a quieter smile, he confesses, “And when I said you were talking a lot— I didn’t mean anything by it, you know?”

You’d disappeared back here because you thought it was something silly to be so upset over. He’d told you it was a compliment, but it didn’t really feel like one. Your brain refused to be anything other than hurt by his well-intentioned remarks. The ache in your chest became unignorable, and you shrunk inside yourself accordingly.

“I know,” you murmur.

“I love hearing you talk,” he tells you, shy smirk widening to a lopsided beam. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, actually.”

Your lips purse to the side. Your anxious hands fidget with the plastic cassettes in your palms, aching to hold him. It takes you a moment or more to find the courage to speak. “I’m just… I’m normally super aware of… when I’m talking too much, you know? I was just… Excited, I guess.”

“You were. And it was really fuckin’ cute.” A laugh sputters from his lips. He wears all the love he has for you in the deep honey of his eyes, rich and swimming with warmth. “I love seeing you happy.”

“Well, you make me happy…” you whisper, gaze averted. “So, it fits…”

“Yeah, it does,” he murmurs in response, ducking down to kiss you. It’s chaste and terribly fleeting — lips locking together one moment and then smacking in protest when they separate the next.

It takes your eyes a second too long to flutter open again after he’s pulled back from you. You find Steve already grinning as he nods to the tapes in your hands. “Wanna pop those into the radio? So we can listen to ‘em while I work?”

Your brows pinch with a distant worry. “Won’t Keith get mad?”

“Probably,” Steve answers with an uncaring shrug. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright? I’ll take care of you.”

You melt.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

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superblysubpar · 1 month

Text

Sincerely, Yours:

bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places | 18+ Only, NSFW | main menu

the song: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds - all of steve's music

6.6k words

warnings: "inexperienced" reader - in the form of never really making out/receiving none/not great foreplay - masturbating for comfort/ease before sex, SMUT (public - in the back of Steve's car - "caught" by Hopper when you're done, oral, fingering, steve cums in his levi's cause I'm a sucker for doing this to him, what can I say?)

A/N: Once upon a time, I asked for requests, and I failed to fulfill many of them (you may have heard this story before), but this one sat in the drafts for many many months, and then I really chickened out posting it for a long time. Everyone say thanks to @palmtreesx3 - I owe her and the request for the prompt "we're not really just best friends, are we?"(which isn't even used in this, but you get the picture) and The Breakfast Club for this fic 💛

He didn’t hear it at first, over the last remaining popping kernels.

“What?” He called around a mouthful of the snack he was already dipping into before it was finished.

In the other room, your attention was strictly on Judd Nelson, but you tried again, with no real power or meaning behind the words.

“Want me to pause it?”

“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes to no one but himself in the kitchen, “Don’t think you need to pause the movie I’ve seen three times…this week.”

“I’d love one, thanks!”

Steve snorted at your response that made no sense, it becoming apparent you weren’t listening to him at all. He should have known this was his fate after the way you acted when it was showing at The Hawk. You saw it with him, then Robin, then Nancy, and Steve put his foot down when you tried to drag him down there for a fourth time.

Now here he was, dumping the popcorn into a large bowl and watching it again. He didn’t even know what number of views he was on with you, which had him worried about your sanity, ‘cause you had to be watching it without him too.

Steve snagged two cans of Coke out of the fridge, assuming that’s what you’d love one of, and kicked the door closed with his heel.

He cradled the popcorn bowl against his side and held each of the cans with one hand and spread fingers, socked feet slipping on the hardwoods when he rounded the corner and saw you again.

Despite becoming incredibly bored by the movie, he did love watching you watch it, because somehow, it’s as if you’re watching it for the first time every time.

Your white tube socks were stark against the dark wood of the coffee table, bunching around your ankles that led him to the exposed skin of your calves. Which led to the way your blue skirt fanned over your thighs all nice, then the Queen shirt he got you for your birthday tucked into it, your thumb between your teeth with your eyebrows bunched together.

His best friend was really fucking pretty.

He almost said it out loud, which had him flopping onto the couch a little quickly, a little too heavy with his fall. Careless in his aim of the cushion and causing popcorn to spill from the bowl into your lap as his shoulder jostled yours.

Before he could even say sorry, you were grabbing the popcorn from your lap like it was the bowl, blissfully unaware it wasn’t, all the while making heart eyes at dreamy Bender.

“Thanks,” your appreciation came out heavy around the buttery and salty handful of the snack, the Coke you’d love sitting on the coffee table, already forgotten.

Steve hummed, his amused lips twitched in a losing fight against a smile at your captivated stare fixated on the screen. He suppressed an eye roll at the scene about to happen, as he swiped condensation off the cool metal of the can with his thumb.

He popped the drink open with a loud hiss, slurping his first sip - a habit you’d normally swat at his chest for - but you were too busy focusing on the words about to leave Judd’s mouth.

“Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?”

They sort of just tumbled out of Steve too, while his eyes glanced over the popcorn bowl, searching for a perfectly buttery piece. Which is why he didn’t see that he, your best friend, quoting the scene that has dialogue that got you all hot and bothered more than others, had your entire body freezing.

Steve tossed the acquired piece into the air, catching it in his mouth before he turned to face your profile. He found you with widened eyes, chest rising and falling a little too quickly, and he grinned.

“Have you ever been felt up…over the bra…under the blouse…your shoes off, hoping to god your parents don’t walk in?”

He’s simply delighted when he quotes the scene again and your body shifts, toes curling as you arched your neck away from. You kept your eyes on the screen, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact because of what he was slowly, finally, realizing.

You were totally turned on and he couldn’t wait to tease you about it forever.

Steve leaned in closer, whispering along with the movie, “Over the panties…no bra…blouse unbuttoned…Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?”

He’s gearing up, about to tease you, make some dumb boy comment about being hot for the school freak, when your quiet, barely a breath response had him pausing.

“No.”

Did you just say that out loud?!

Your head turned to find Steve blinking at you, creases in his forehead deepening beneath the stray locks of hair that fell forward.

Looks like you did.

“Ste-”

“What? What do you mean no?”

Your eyes closed when you both spoke at the same time, avoiding his curious stare. Hands roamed to your cheeks to hide your face as your head fell towards your knees.

As you shook your head no, your response gets muffled into your skirt. “I meant no.”

Steve’s hand nudged at your shoulder, prodding for clarity and for you to sit up. He failed to sound casual when his question came out incredulously.

“No, you’ve never kissed a guy?”

Your hands still covered your face as you fell back against the couch with a groan, “No, I..I have. I just…”

Steve pulled at your hands, his heart racing like it was overtime. All these years, he thought you’d been with all these other guys, his quiet jealousy seething under the surface of his tinged green from envy skin.

A breath, well, more of a huff really, slipped past your lips as your gaze dropped to the hands holding yours in your lap. “I’ve never really made out with anyone? Just like…a quick kiss or two. I don’t even know, can you even count it as kissing? Over before it starts kind of thing…”

The ramble trailed off, the room silent save for the movie still playing and the giant, loud, big, fat, zero response from Steve. You counted the threads in the carpet, the pieces of popcorn in the bowl as your skin grew hotter and hotter from the reveal he’s left just hanging there until he finally sputtered out a sorry excuse for one.

“Are you shitting me? We’re like…old.”

It doesn’t come out how he meant it to at all, he’s just shocked. He’s wincing almost immediately as the words reach his ears and brain, he knows how it sounded. He wishes he could take it back when your head whips up, hurt eyes meeting his as you ripped your hands away from him.

“Yeah, Steve,” you scoffed, jaw pulsing as your voice dripped with sarcasm that tried to cover the embarrassment, “I’m shitting you. Thought it’d be real funny to trick you into thinking your best friend is a loser who’s barely been kissed even though she’s so old.”

Pieces of popcorn fell from your lap as you stood, not letting yourself wonder where they came from as you stomped around the coffee table and towards his entryway.

“No, honey, wait-” he stumbled after you, spilling Coke down the front of his shirt as he did, “Shit.”

He patted at his chest like it’d do anything, shirt damp and sticking to his skin as he rounded the corner and found you lacing up your converse and shaking your head.

“It’s fine, Steve. I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking about it. I’m gonna go home. Don’t worry about it. Girl stuff.”

“No, please, I didn’t mean-”

His words stopped just as abruptly as your body, when the front door swung open to reveal an out of nowhere downpour.

Your head fell as you started to ask, and he was already one step ahead of you.

“Can you please-”

“I’ll grab my keys.”

He was tripping up his stairs by the time he finished saying it. When he returned, it was in a clean shirt, jumping from the second to last step as he swirled the keys around his pointer finger.

The light blue fabric of his new shirt pulled at his shoulders that hunched when your glare remained unwavering despite the apologetic puppy dog eyes he had going for him.

You understood Steve didn’t mean for the comment to start the hole he was digging, and you knew you weren’t being fair for being so upset. It’s not like it was his fault, it was just your own insecurities manifesting in an anger towards him.

The nagging feeling of being some sort of freak who’d never made out while even the little twerps who clung to Steve were, while your best friend was Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High only grew stronger. The thought of Steve thinking you were some sort of weirdo for being old and never making out had something in your gut churning, had a familiar sting behind your eyes forming that you tried your best to ignore.

When Steve opened his mouth, about to try to make it all better again, you simply turned on your heel and stalked out into the rain. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the way you stomped through it, pretending to not be drowned.

He quickly rushed behind you and got to the door first and swung it open, to which you rolled your eyes at, but slid in and got comfortable while he closed it for you nonetheless.

Unsure why he went and changed as he raced around the hood and shot into the driver’s seat, totally soaked through to his skin now. He cranked the heat before swiping fingers over his eyes, a large hand ran through his hair and pushed it back only for it to fall into his eyes again. Steve reached over with wet and shaking fingers at the same time you held yours up, both of you pausing and glancing at the other’s hands.

Steve was about to cup your fingers between his and blow warm breath onto them, just like he always did, but you ripped your hands down to your lap, and curled your body against the door, like you needed to be as far from him as you could be.

Your damp forehead touched the cool glass of the window as he sighed, “Please don’t-”

“Just take me home, please?”

The tone in which the words were said has something in his chest breaking. Like you were really fucking sad, embarassed, it was a real plea to just take you home and leave you alone.

So he wasn’t gonna do that, ‘cause he never was a great listener, so why start now?

He pretends though, he backs out of the driveway and heads in the direction of your apartment. He lets the radio fill the space and he turns the heat down when the air inside the car is heavier and warm despite your cold shoulder. The orange glow of the street lights slanted inside the car in a soothing rhythm as his wheels spun over the pavement until he was coming to the last four way stop before your apartment.

It unfolds just as he had planned, when he’s still stopped at the deserted intersection, as your breath fogged up the glass when you asked, “Harrington, you planning on leaving the intersection anytime soon?”

His bottom lip wobbled as his teeth continued to press into it, thick fingers rubbing at a scruff dotted jaw as he thought out loud in an attempt to sway you.

“Well, you see, I could go straight and take you home-” he started.

“Right. Let’s do that.” You waved your hand towards the direction of the apartment that held the ice cream you were desperate to eat and wallow with while watching Pretty In Pink.

“Or,” Steve interrupted right back, tapping on the steering wheel with his finger as he did, “I could go to the right. Pull into the diner. Buy you a milkshake and say sorry?”

The thing was, he was gonna go to the right regardless of your answer. He knew once you pulled into the parking lot there was no way you’d not at least go in and get fries and a shake, if not a whole burger. You’d done this dance before, him putting his foot in his mouth was not a new occurrence.

Your lips twitched, but your arms stayed crossed as he hummed and whispered, “Tough choice…tough choice…”

Shoulders fell in defeat, but your mouth stayed downturned in a forced frown as you grumbled, “And fries.”

Steve smiled, turned on his blinker and nodded. He cleared his throat.

“And fries. Definitely.”

“And none of that you order yourself a vanilla shake and I order strawberry and you drink half of mine because it’s better and eat all the fries shit.”

“Of course,” Steve scoffed, “I would never do that.”

Steve slipped his straw into your shake, pulling the glass across the sticky tabletop as you did the same with his. He tried not to smirk around the straw when you did, dipping a fry in his vanilla he ordered for a reason despite the strawberry being better.

“Do you think Claire is a prude for never doing anything?”

He shook his head no almost immediately, swiping at stray ice cream from the corner of his mouth with his tongue.

You fiddled with the straw wrapped between your fingers and narrowed your eyes at him.

“Would your answer be the same if, say, Eddie was sitting here asking you? Not me, your best friend, who you have sudden pity for?”

He blinked at you and sighed, “I don’t have pity for you.”

“Your mouth and your eyes are telling two different stories Harrington,” you waved a fry at him as you spoke, gesturing to his face with it.

Your gaze stayed on the fry you were ripping in half, focused on watching it sink into the sweet vanilla as he dared to say, “I just don’t get it.”

“What, that I haven’t done that and I’m so old,” you tried to tease, to move past it.

But the way you were licking salt off your finger had him wondering if he swiped his own through the salt on the tray and pushed the pad against your lips if they would part like they were now, if he could taste it on your lips if he just leaned forward and-

“No, ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty.”

He definitely said it out loud that time.

You blinked at him, cheeks suddenly too warm for the cold and damp Spring that had been surrounding you all day.

“Ste-”

“And so smart,” he licked his lips, leaning forward, unable to stop now that it was out, “And funny. And…and sweet, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know, I just don’t understand how guys aren’t falling over themselves, unable to do anything but make out with you, or more or-”

“I never said I didn’t do more,” you whispered, ignoring all of his compliments that made your chest feel all tight and sticky and choosing to argue with him instead because that was easier.

“But you said…if you haven’t made out with anyone…”

Your body slipped lower against the squeaky seat, embarrassed as you shrugged and Steve felt too hot in the tiny little booth, thinking about all those guys’ hands on you again, and then what you said, what it meant, really clicked.

“Hold on…how…how’d…you didn’t, build up to it?” He asked softly, eyes bouncing over your face with worry.

“Steve,” you grabbed for the other shake, and sat up straighter, “We don’t need to talk about this. It’s not import-”

“It’s so important,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed your fingers lightly, “Half the fun is all the build up to it. And,” he swallowed, forehead creasing with deeper worry, “And then it, it doesn’t hurt. ‘Cause tell me if I’m wrong, but if they weren’t making out with you, were they doing anything to make sure you felt good?”

You squirmed in your seat, fingers pushing up against his mindlessly, aimlessly, as you shrugged again. “It’s only hurt a few times. I learned that if I…um, If I got myself ready beforehand, that I was, uh, more comfortable.”

Steve’s fingers let go of yours with the excuse of grabbing a fry, because he was trying not to be a gross guy, but all he could think about was you in your bedroom, with your fingers between your thighs now. Did you play music? What song? Did you have underwear on? What color? With a shirt that your nipples were visibly hard through as you touched yourself and maybe it was his shirt or maybe you said his name or-

“Right,” Steve nodded, “Um, right. And that’s great, lots of people do that for a date, so like if you need or want to beforehand that’s not…that’s great. It just shouldn’t be the only thing, you know? They should be putting in the work, they should be wanting to. And dates! They should watch a movie with you, and dinner and drive around and then kiss so much you feel dizzy and then if you want, more.”

He finished his rambling speech and you smiled softly, unsure of what to say, because you knew he wasn’t wrong, it’s just that they had.

“They did,” you sighed, “Well, not Paul.”

Steve scowled at the table, “Yeah, well, I’m sure you weren’t missing much. Who wants to yell out Paul?”

“Oh,” you laughed, “And Steve is so much better?”

He looked up at you, your smile sweet and kind and your eyes a little sad, but trying not to be and he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell you that if it was those lips and that voice saying it, it was better, because how could it not be? Like his name only had the best letters, like it belonged to the best guy in the world, one that belonged to you and no one else.

But you were swiping at ice cream on your lips and sighing, saying something that made his chest ache instead.

“They were nice dates. And it’s not like the sex was bad. But,” you looked out the window, eyes tracking the droplets of rain twinged neon from the light hanging above you both, “The kissing till I’m dizzy sounds nice. Is it…is it fun?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, admiring the way the red and blue lit up your profile before you turned to face him.

And then he was saying something before he really thought it through, because god you weren’t just fucking pretty, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met and no way in hell was he letting anyone treat you the way you’d been ever again. So this was his chance, and he was taking the leap.

“I could…” he blew out a breath and smiled. He sat up straighter, and he searched for some sort of lingering king steve confidence he could latch onto without all the douche as he asked, “I could show you?”

To both of your surprise, you’d said yes, and he paid and you were in the car, driving, and parked somewhere in what felt like seconds. Now your best friend sat across from you, both of you facing the center console, but not daring to do more.

The rain beat against the roof of the maroon car, each drop a punctuated tick of a nonexistent clock - a meter for how much time was passing without movement, without words. Just both of your breathing filled the space. First exhaling, then desperately inhaling for more air as your chests rose and fell ragged. And then, like in some unspoken agreement only best friends can have, you both started to lean forward cause you just knew.

Your heart’s thrum threatened to drown out the rain, building and building, screaming to break out of your chest, pounding in your ears while your cheeks grew warm and your stomach dipped as Steve’s tongue slipped out quickly and wetted his lips.

But then he leaned and his eyes started to close and you giggled, fingers slipping over your lips as his eyelids shot open.

“Sorry,” you gasped and shook your head and your hands out as you tried to be serious, “Your ‘I’m about to kiss you’ face is real cute, Harrington.”

Tried being the definitive word.

“Cute?” He groaned, smiling, “Not sexy?”

You leaned in, faster this time, a smile matching his as you shrugged, “It’s nice. Never thought I’d be on the opposite side of it, is all.”

It’s easy to tilt your head and welcome the hand that reached up to cradle your jaw as he softly promised, “Your ‘I’m about to be kissed face’ is really cute too.”

The pad of his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek in the tenderest touch you’d ever felt, before his fingers curled under your jaw and tilted you gently, slowly, up so his lips were right over yours.

It felt like he was handling you like the most precious and fragile thing, like a prized possession that he’d only ever hold with care and never let another soul touch.

His breath fanned over yours, warm and sweet smelling, vanilla and cherry just out of reach for you to taste as you dared to quip back again. “Alright, I’m gonna have to cross reference these lines with other girls you’ve promised to make dizzy, Harrington, cause if that’s the first time you’ve used that, I’m afraid it’s far too smooth…”

Steve’s heart felt like it was trying to claw out of his chest as you laughed, smiling at him when he responded, “And, I think that’s enough out of you.”

Which you couldn’t help but reply back to with, “Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me to stop talking?”

He laughed, low, muffled and deep in his chest. “A few.”

A sharp inhale slipped past your lips when his nose bumps yours, not realizing how close he’d gotten while you joked back and forth nervously. There wasn’t a protocol on how to let your best show you a proper make out, on how to just dive in and start, you just knew you wanted to.

Steve’s swallow bobbed his adams apple as the leather beneath you creaked from shifting weight, needing to get closer. And as you did, his eyes found yours, mossy and dark in the low light, the browns and golds washed away in the rain. Their gaze flitted down to your lips, back up to fluttering eyelashes, and then his own eyelids were closing.

All it took was another breath in, an exhale out, and his lips were on yours. A simple, slow press, holding your top lip between the both of his. Strawberry and vanilla teasing you, and soon he was moving, now bottom lip between his and you got it. Your mouths parted together, lips slotting in a rhythm that came naturally, that clicked.

Something in your stomach fizzled and crackled like the sparklers you lit every year in his driveway on the fourth as the sigh from his nose hit your cheek. Body warm and sticky in a way that was usually reserved for Summer when his fingers skated over your jaw, up and around your ear, until they were cradling the back of your neck and pulling you closer. His mouth moved with yours in a way that could only be described as frantically graceful - needing more, hurried, hungry, but with the promise and precision of someone who knew what he was doing. It had your stomach dipping, like a freefall, like the greatest and scariest thing you’d ever felt.

If he’d have opened his eyes, he’d have found you with your hands suspended between your bodies though. Fingers not quite brave enough to reach up and get lost in his hair, but not content to just sit in your lap and do nothing either.

And if you'd opened your eyes, you’d have found his other hand gripping the center console like he was hanging on for dear life. ‘Cause holy shit was he trying to go slow, but kissing you was like chasing the last few minutes of sunlight in July - sweet and fleeting and magic - something you needed to make last, to soak up every last drop of until you couldn’t any more, not by choice, but because the sun has to set and he has to breathe.

In a shared gasp for air, you parted, but his lips were back on yours immediately, making your stomach swoop even more, like an entire family of butterflies had decided - hey, we live here now and we’re gonna make a ruckus so get used to it.

You didn’t mind.

Steve’s fingers found yours and without breaking his rhythm, he tugged, guiding them to his shoulders that were practically on your side of the console now, which wasn’t doing something great to his already somersaulting stomach.

He slowed down as your fingers brushed over and back on the collar of his shirt and his hands cradled both of your cheeks, pulling you off of his lips regretfully. You were both breathing like you’d run a marathon, his forehead pressed to yours as he gasped out, “Dizzy yet?”

“No,” you lied.

He grinned, tip of his nose tracing the bridge of yours as he admitted, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that.”

You couldn’t even respond, couldn’t tell him you wanted that too, couldn’t tell him that it was something you only dared let a daydream or two convince you it could happen before you were shutting it down, cause he was still talking.

“And now that I have,” he swallowed, his thumbs glided down opposite sides of your neck as he shook his head, “I’m never stopping.”

Then he was kissing you again, and if you thought he was frantic before…

You had this feeling that even if those other guys had made out with you, kissing them wasn’t and never would be the same as kissing Steve Harrington.

Soon one of your feet was on the seat, the other bracing yourself in the footwell. He had a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and yours were finally starting to dare to journey past their spot on his shoulders and then your skirt was caught on the gearshift and he was stopping you again.

“Honey, what are you doing?”

“So was that ‘never stopping’ just a nice sentiment or are you planning to back it up with action?” You huffed, distracted by pink lips that twisted into a crooked smile as he looked at your pretzeled body.

Your shoulders fell as you nodded your head towards his side of the car and admitted, “I just want to be closer.”

“Oh, right.” Steve swallowed, and you wondered if it’d be weird if you kissed every freckle and mole you could find on his throat. Something told you he wouldn’t mind when he asked, a little more eager than you’d heard tonight, “Backseat?”

And you clambered out of the car, the slowing rain soothing to heated and flushed skin under the mussed clothes, and then you were both meeting in the backseat, but the nerves returned. The way you both glanced at the space between you and were immediately and acutely aware of the lack of anything between you except doubt and fear. Was this a mistake? What about your friendship?

Steve looked at the space, at you, and then held up his finger in the symbol for one sec as he said, “Hold on,” and half climbed back into the front seat. His torso draped over the console as he loudly opened the glovebox and rummaged around inside, before he was fiddling with the radio, and falling back into the seat.

His cheeks pink, but his smile wide as he looked at you again. “Hey! I’m so glad we could do this tonight. You look beautiful. Ready to watch your favorite movie?”

“Wh-what?” You laughed, totally and utterly confused.

He tugged on your fingers, and pulled you to the middle, until you were slouched next to each other, shoulders touching as he shushed and said, “The Breakfast Club is starting.”

And the music playing over the radio,Simple Minds, a cassette he must have put in, had your chest swelling with something that was sure to burst and explode and kill you, because the boy was actually pretending you were on a couch, on a date, in a living room, watching a movie - it was perfectly Steve and you, and the best first date you’d ever been on.

His left hand picked up yours, resting it on your thigh and played with your fingers. The pads of his traced up and down and over your hand as he stared at the windshield, his temple resting against yours. The music played, and his fingertips swooped between the curves of each finger aimlessly, the sides of his fingers running down yours and back up making it really hard to concentrate on the non-existent flick.

When you finally relaxed into his side, when you flipped your hand over so he could draw little loop de loops on your palm, he quietly asked, “Who’s your favorite?”

“Brian,” said without hesitation.

Steve groaned, in pain, “Ugh, you would like him the best.”

You laughed, turning to look up at him a bit from where your head had fallen to his shoulder, “Don’t knock him Steve,” you spoke softly, fondly, “You’re a lot more of a dork like him than you think.”

Steve made a pft noise, fingers now interlaced with yours as he turned his head, the tip of his nose touching yours as he looked down at you with the sort of look the guys give the girls in the movies, one that should be illegal from the way it had that family of butterflies shouting about their presence again and fluttering around.

“Hey Steve?”

“Hmm?” He hummed, eyelashes fluttering as he sighed when your thumb brushed over his knuckles.

“This is a really great…first date?” You asked, hopeful that it wasn’t just an offer, that you weren’t some game, that the guy next to you was just as crazy about you as you were him.

“Yeah?” He smiled, proud, and then bragged, “Wait till the second one.”

It was your turn to hum, to look into his eyes and get a little lost as his mouth parted and you both scooted closer, waiting, as he squeezed your fingers wrapped around his.

“You’re making the ‘I’m about to kiss you face’ again, Steve,” you whispered, lips brushing his as you did.

“Right,” he whispered back, bottom lip catching yours as he suggested, “Which means you should probably stop talking again.”

This kiss wasn’t as easy and smooth, made difficult by grins of fools who were totally in love but wouldn’t admit it just yet, but how could you both not be after years together?

But you smoothed it out quickly, and soon he was swiping his tongue over your bottom lip as his hand gripped at your waist a little tightly. He traced over your top lip as your entire body turned towards his, like a plant in search of sunlight, his body on yours fundamental to your survival.

He gasped as you straddled him, your mouth swallowing the sound as his hands roamed up your sides, taking the hem of your shirt with it so his fingers could scrape at the skin just under your ribs before they dared to drift along the band of your bra.

You let out a sound that he’d never forget as long as he lived when you finally lowered yourself, skirt fanning over your laps so the sinful way he pressed up against your pristine soaked Calvin’s was slightly hidden. The unclip of your bra and the removal and toss over the seat was fluid, and you couldn’t think about it because the way his hand on your chest felt, the thumb over a pebbled nipple was something you’d only let yourself think about in moments of need before a date that wasn’t him.

Steve was wrong, the build up was more than half the fun.

The way his hands buzzed against your spine like the air after fireworks, the way his tongue brushed yours, the way he couldn’t help but guide your hips to rock against him. Denim hitting cotton in the exact right spot so the nerves underneath it got the friction they were aching for, while your mind ran away from you, thoughts about how this was just getting started. How there was more.

His lips left yours and his smile pressed to your jaw when the action got a soft whimper to fall from you. He tutted into your neck, lips grazing over an erratic pulse as he whispered, “Can I touch you?”

“Is that,” your breath hitched around the words as his tongue licked a thick stripe over your neck that extended, “Is that a part of making me dizzy or the more, when I’m sufficiently so?”

“You’re not yet?” His teeth scraped at where his tongue had just been. “I like when you say words like sufficiently, ‘s’hot.”

You laughed as his lips kissed the same spot, and then he was sucking, skin beneath his tongue warm and sending a message to your brain that you liked that a lot.

“Yeah,” you hiccuped, eyelids fluttering in their view of the car’s roof as you arched and his hands gripped your hips, “Yeah, touch me.”

He didn’t have to be told twice, arm around your waist holding you steady while the other traveled under the hem of your skirt. His mouth moved to below your ear and as his fingers glided up your thigh. He sucked and kissed, and sent that message to your brain again, having you say his name and god’s in the same desperate sentence.

Steve wasn’t gonna last much longer.

Especially when his fingers met the wet cotton and you moaned, so much filthier than he’d have thought possible. Especially when he circled over your clit through the fabric and you rolled your hips with the movement, far dirtier than he thought you were capable of.

“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.” He mouthed at the collar of your rucked up shirt, looking down at the way your hips rolled over his but he couldn’t quite see what was underneath.

You hid in the crook of his neck, hot, and you didn’t know if it was because the windows were fogged and Steve was so fucking good at this or because you were embarassed by how turned on you were from his next words.

“Please, I gotta,” he slipped a finger under the fabric and you shuddered as it ran down your slick and back up, “I gotta taste you. I need to put my mouth on you. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

You were on your back, Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat, with Steve crouched between your thighs not even a minute later.

Thick fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt from his spot, blown out pupils taking over his stare up at you. One of your converse pushed to the other side of the car against the door as your fingers curled around the base of the sweating window above you.

Steve kissed your knee, and made his way higher between your legs slowly, until he was flipping your skirt up and swallowing as he stared at the space like it was a fucking artwork.

You giggled, nervously under the intense awestruck stare, squeezing your eyes shut as he strained to get out, “Fuck, honey, you’re trying to kill me.”

He was mesmerized, the way you clenched around nothing, his thumbs spreading you so he could see just how wet you were for him.

He was really not gonna last much longer. Straining in his jeans painfully like a teenager.

And that was before you whimpered, before you said:

“Steve, please.”

“Only,” he swallowed, leaning down so his breath hit your cunt in a way that had your hips wiggling, and him closing his eyes, “Only cause you asked so nicely.”

His thumbs held you open, massaging the sides as his tongue licked once, slow and broad, following the path of his nose up to your clit. He did it again, and again, and again. Until his fingers were slipping inside of you, pumping in and out of walls that held him tightly and his mouth sucked at your clit. Then you tugged, forcefully at the curls at the back of his head and practically screamed his name. Like it was full of only the best letters. Like it was yours.

Your stomach burned, the butterflies angry and in your chest now too, on fire, but happy about it. Steve’s fingers inside of you and mouth on your clit better than any orgasm you’d ever had, and you couldn’t help it when you came without warning, toes curling inside of your converse that kicked at the door and his thigh, while your fingers slipped on the window and your chest ached for a breath as it yelled his name in a way that the whole world would have to know how you felt when they heard it.

He didn’t pull away until you were gasping and your thighs were shaking and your fingers loosened in his hair. His cheek pressed to your thigh as he stared up at you and gasped out a proud, smug, “I’d like to see Bender of Brian do that.”

You laughed, tired, but happy, and he crawled up your body, kissing any part of it he could find while he ignored the uncomfortable wet patch in the front of his Levi’s.

Except you noticed and raised your eyebrows at it, a little smug yourself as you said, “Bet Claire couldn’t do that.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but then you were both flinching as a loud smack of something hit the back window. He glanced up and cursed under his breath, rolling down the window slightly as he called out from on top of you, “Hey, Hop.”

There was a loud, deep, sigh from outside as you both sat up with apologetic faces and Steve rolled down the window further.

Hopper’s cigarette smoke wafted in as he looked at the pair of you with a touch of surprise when he saw it was you next to Steve in the fogged up beemer. He shook his head, frown under the mustache forced. “It’s past eleven. On a weeknight. Have some decency and do this at home in front of a movie like normal people next time, yeah?”

You both nodded, your teeth pulling at your lip in a terrible attempt at not smiling.

He walked away, and you and Steve slapped hands over each other’s laughs and snorts, but you still managed to catch the quiet, “Bout damn time.”

And when Steve dropped you off at home, with a kiss to seal it all and a promise of a real date tomorrow that he’d pick you up for, you shoved the bunched up Calvin’s in his front pocket with your own promise, whispering in his ear the words “Sincerely, yours” before you left him with his mouth open on the front steps, watching you walk away.

#superbly subpars writing #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic

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aphrogeneias · 8 months

Text

more than seven minutes — one-shot

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: after you spend nearly a week completely avoiding your best friend, he takes matters into his own hands. and if that means locking you into a room with him until he makes you talk, then so be it.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: smut (+18), fluff, friends to lovers, forced proximity, love confessions, mentions of a sex dream, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), hand job, dirty talk

author's note: another reupload! this is the only steve fic i've ever written, or rather, the only one i started and finished. not sure if i really write steve that well, but i tried <3 this has a part two and will be uploaded soon too.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Don't you trust us?"

From your left, Robin's faux exasperated tone had you throwing her a mean side-eye. Her girlfriend, Vickie, on your right, giggled, "I don't think she does, Rob."

It wasn't that you didn't trust them. On a normal day, you would trust those two with your life, but given the circumstance you recently put yourself into, you couldn't help but be suspicious.

They'd found you hiding — or trying to, at least — at the back porch during another one of Tina's house parties, which were getting more and more boring to you, but you needed an escape, and cheap beer with some questionable company would have to do it.

You were sitting with another one of your friends when Robin and Vickie, appearing seemingly out of nowhere — confusing you immensely because they'd be two people you wouldn't expect to find at Tina's on a Friday night — took your plastic cup from your hand and pulled you by the arms to follow them.

Dragging you along, each one linked to your arms from both sides, passing in between the crowd of bodies gathered in the living room, occasionally having to push a drunk jock out of the way, and guiding you up the stairs, into the upstairs hallway. They moved fast, the people around you passing by like a sea of blurred faces.

You were thrust forward when you reached one of the doors, and were pushed inside by Robin, who flashed you an apologetic smile, shrugging, "I'm sorry!"

"Robin!" Yelling over the loud music that bled through the walls, you could hear giggling from the outside, as well as the sound of a key being turned in doorknob. Your heart raced as you slowly realized what was happening, "Vickie! What the fuck?"

You knew who was behind you without even having to turn around.

Taking in your surroundings, you could tell it was a guest room, untouched by the madness going on downstairs and in the hallway. Sitting on the neatly made bed, above the soft pastel bedding, Steve Harrington looked like a kicked puppy, brown eyes following your every move from where you stood, still at the bedroom door, unsure of what to do.

He was the first to break the silence, "So… now I have to resort to kidnapping you in order to have a conversation with my best friend?"

Leaning back into the cold wooden surface of the door, you tried to sound as unbothered as possible, knowing very well you were about to crack. "I wouldn't call that much of a kidnapping. Your henchwomen are a little too clumsy for that."

When Steve didn't answer you, merely raising an eyebrow, unamused, you tried again. "So, uh… what is this, exactly? Seven minutes in heaven? You know this isn't seventh grade anymore, right?"

"No, if it was seventh grade you would still be talking to me and not acting all weird for a whole damn week and not telling me why!"

"I'm not acting weird…"

"Bullshit! You are avoiding me like the plague and I need to know why."

You weren't avoiding Steve.

At least, that's what you had told him the first time he confronted you about it, almost a week ago. He had showed up at your house, unannounced as always, with a new film he knew you'd love and a bag of popcorn and candy, walking in as if it was own place — and it was, in a way, more of a home than his own has ever been. You made up an excuse about how you were sick and didn't want to get him sick as well, ushering him out of the house with an apology and the promise of a raincheck on your movie night.

After that, he'd been calling you, asking what was wrong and why were you avoiding him, and you couldn't bring yourself to tell him the truth. You'd told him it was nothing, you were sick that day, then you were busy, and then… you were running out of excuses.

The truth was that you couldn't look your best friend in the eyes anymore.

Sighing, you looked down at your feet, shuffling in place, "It's nothing, Steve. I'm just confused about… something, but I promise it has nothing to do with you. You did nothing wrong, it's just, just a thing that happened." You stuttered.

There was a shift in the air, the tension dropping in the atmosphere as Steve's expression lightened, suddenly focusing entirely on you. He rose from his place on the bed and walked over to you, his body crowding your personal space.

"Hey…" You felt a hand gently hold your chin, forcing you to look at him, warm brown eyes searching for yours. "I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm just worried. We used to tell each other everything and now you're acting like this and I don't know what to think."

Overwhelmed by Steve's closeness, his smell and the heat of his body invading your senses, and his hand moving to cradle your cheek, distracting you from gathering your thoughts, you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. "If I tell you, do you promise you'll stay not mad at me?"

"I don't think I could ever be mad at you, Y/N."

With a deep breath, you walked away from him. The nearness, the feeling of his hand on your skin brought you vivid memories of the exact reason you were pushing him away.

"Ihadasexdreamaboutyou."

"A what?"

"A sex dream! I had a sex dream about you and I'm embarassed enough as it is, okay? I know it's weird, but we can't really help what we dream of, you know? It's like our brains produce images using the faces of people we know but it doesn't necessarily mean anything…"

"I get it! I get it, you don't need to explain yourself, I promise." Steve interrupts your rambling, you're still avoiding making eye contact with him, but you notice a light shade of pink take over his face. Silence fell over the room, both of you still trying to come to terms with what you'd just confessed.

"What was your dream like?"

He was closer now, you realized. There was something different in his eyes, a look you'd never seen before — far more intense, pupils blown wide. An electric current grows between you, like a live wire, ready to explode. It didn't help you stop thinking about the Steve in your dream, looking up at you with those same eyes, hands hungrily exploring your naked body.

It was all you could think about in the past few days — and then, there he was, warm and real, right in front of you, your Steve.

"Steve…"

"Please? I'm curious. It can't be that bad."

Turning around, you stared at the wall instead of having to look at him, feeling flustered all over. "I don't remember a lot of the details, but, uh… I think we were on my couch and we were… I was riding you, I think." Letting out a nervous laugh, you gathered the courage to turn again, pretending to not be affected, "Crazy, right?"

"Not that crazy. Coming from you, I was expecting something a little more shocking."

You laughed earnestly then, feeling some of the tension leave your body. "Yeah. Screw you, Harrington."

Steve started taking a few tentative steps forward, and instinctively, you took some backwards, until your back hit the wall behind you. Leaning in, those same dark, hungry eyes lowered to your lips, and down to your cleavage — you felt vulnerable under his gaze, but not uncomfortable. It felt right, even though it made your skin prickle. "Can I ask you one more question?"

"Yeah." You breathed out.

One of his hands trailed along your waist, keeping you still as the other rested beside your head, on the wall. This was a line you'd definitely never crossed, even with Steve being as affectionate as he was, always keeping at least one hand on you. Not even in the many times you'd shared a bed and woke up tangled in each other. This was different, heavy with anticipation.

"Did you… touch yourself… thinking about this dream of yours?"

It felt like your head was spinning. Despite yourself, you drew in a sharp inhale, "Do you really need to know that?"

"Only if you want to tell me." His voice was gentle, much more restrained than the wild look in his eyes, barely keeping himself together. "But something tells me you do."

Steve wasn't blind to the effect he had on you, especially up close, where he could feel your heavy breathing, watching the way your body responded to his. Throwing every caution you had out of the metaphoric window, you finally looked him in the eyes, bringing him closer, and resting your hands on his broad shoulders.

"What if I told you that I did? What if I told you that I had my fingers inside of me thinking about how good it would feel if I was bouncing on your cock instead? How would it feel to have you run your hands all over me while I do it? Is that what you want to hear?"

Like the cat who got the cream — or the guy who got his best friend to confess how badly she wants to fuck him — he smirked, now holding you with both hands around your waist.

"Any chance you want to make that dream come true, baby?"

"If King Steve is offering, who am I to refuse?"

"Shut up."

Snaking a hand up your back, raising a chill up your spine, and holding the back of your neck, his mouth descended on yours with a deep kiss. It started clumsy, all teeth and uncoordinated hands, two friends who dared cross a line they'd never return from. Steve took control, then, leading you towards the bed, and laying you on top of it, his hands never leaving your body as he climbed on top of you.

"You should have told me about this earlier. Could've helped you out, you know." He said, in between kisses, descending his mouth to your jaw, and down to your neck, his tongue eliciting tiny gasps from your gaping lips, "You were driving me insane."

His hands travelled under your shirt, after yanking it from under your skirt, finding your covered breasts. Too eager to feel you, he felt you up over your bra, squeezing and caressing his thumb over your nipples. Between Steve's hands and his kisses, you were left breathless under him, seeking whatever release you could get, grinding your hips against his thigh, which was resting between yours. You could feel your cotton panties cling to your wet folds, slick with desire.

"I think you're the one driving me insane here." You whined, biting his lower lip and dragging it just slightly. Steve's eyes darkened above you, and you felt his hands lower, slowly, to the hem of your already bunched up skirt. You watched as he sat up on his knees and removed his polo shirt, revealing his broad chest, and feeling the sudden urge to run your hands over the tuft hair and the smattering of freckles covering it.

"Consider it payback, baby."

They stopped at the waistband of your underwear, and stilled, as he asked, brown eyes as gentle as ever, almost whispering, "This okay?"

"Yeah. Please."

Lowering his head, he left kisses over your thighs as he brought the fabric down your legs and off your body, his hot mouth leaving a trail of small teeth marks and spit that warmed you to your core. There was an underlying devotion in Steve's touch, a reverence he always treated you with — like you were something precious, something worthy of praise. It set you alight under his expert fingers, running over the soft skin of your parted thighs.

Wasting no more time, Steve licked a long stripe over your weeping slit, flattening his tongue. You dropped your head to the pillow beneath you, not being able to stop the moan that rose on your throat. One of your hands reached to grab his hair as he alternated between flicking his tongue over your clit and sucking on it, groaning into your pussy like he was enjoying it just as much as you were. His strong hands grabbed your thighs and pulled you further into him, burying himself into you, his nose touching your clit as he delved his tongue into your hole, fucking you with it.

A litany of moans filled the room, along with the filthy, sloppy sounds of his mouth devouring your pussy. You felt delirious, skin burning and grinding yourself shamelessly into his mouth, meeting his movements.

"Isn't that better, honey?" He teased, bringing a finger down to your entrance and into you, stroking your walls in a torturingly slow pace, making you pout as you kept moving your hips, "Better than fucking yourself with your tiny, little fingers? You could have had this instead of hiding from me."

Mumbling something incoherent, you could barely keep your thoughts together as you felt him add a second finger into you, pumping them faster this time.

"Louder. Let me hear you."

"So much better. You feel so good, Stevie, so fucking good. Please don't stop."

At that point, you didn't care how whiny you sounded. Steve didn't seem to care either, shifting between your legs to wrap his lips around your clit again, matching his languid thrusts as he curled his fingers inside of you, building up the tension in your core, your pleas of "faster, please!" rising from your lips.

He obliged, looking at you with hooded eyes. You meet his gaze as you cry out, feeling your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing into you slowly, and then all at once. He keeps his fingers moving as you ride it out, breathing heavily, and running your hand over his messed up hair, much gentler this time.

"C'mere, baby." You called, voice a little weak from exhaustion. Steve leaned over and you met him halfway, supporting your upper body into your elbows, and kissed him. Deep and slow, savoring the taste of his tongue, still stained with your juices, making you dizzy with uncontained lust, and, quite frankly, an overwhelming feeling of possessiveness, as if you had just marked him as yours.

After spending years watching him pine over Nancy Wheeler, and throw himself into date after meaningless date, it felt only fair.

Not you'd ever admit this to him out loud.

Distracting him with your kisses, you manage to take control, flipping him over, and mounting him, straddling his hips. Steve doesn't stop missing you, however, bringing his hands to rest over your hips and guide you to grind your exposed pussy over the tent on his jeans. You could almost feel him pulsing under you, bringing a new jolt of pleasure through your body, making you run your nails over his chest.

Quickly undoing his belt, and his zipper, you bring his pants down, just enough to free him from his boxers, feeling his length warm and heavy in your hand. He pants under you, his eyes rolling back as you tease him with your fingers, lightly, before running your thumb over the delicious vein on the underside of him, all the way to his already weeping head.

Before you could do much else, you heard a hard knock on the door, followed by barely hushed giggles.

"Are you still alive in there? Do we need to call the police?"

"Go away, Buckley! Jesus."

Steve groaned at Robin's interruption, running his hands over his face, flushed with frustration. You release him from your hold, chuckling a little at his outburst. Leaving a kiss to his nose, driving his attention back to you, you ask "Your house isn't too far from here, right?"

"Yeah. Your point being…"

"I think we should take this party somewhere a little less crowded."

Humming deep inside his chest, Steve leans up, pecking you on the lips, "Now you're speaking my language."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut

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upsidedownwithsteve · 6 days

Text

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+

[3.4K] title from ‘too sweet’ by hozier, just a stressed out steve, a willing girlfriend and a lot of filth. written in two hours and not edited in the slightest i’m sorry do not perceive me.

As sour as Steve had looked when he came home from work, he tasted twice as sweet.

He’d called you on his lunch, voice strained and low and you could picture the stitch between his brows, the downturn of his lips as he grumbled to you down Family Videos landline.

Robin was off sick, Keith was in a foul mood, two kids came in and stole a copy of a porno that was sitting behind the desk and the return pile sat at the height of Steve’s waist.

“Can’t wait to come home,” he had sighed down the line, voice rough and mournful and making your thighs squeeze together just right. “Wanna see you so bad, y’know?”

And you did know.

It seemed to take an age before you heard his car pull into the driveway, brakes squeaking slightly because the rent on the apartment came before any repairs to the BMW now. It’s why you’d poured a whisky for him, neat and no ice, no water, just the way Steve liked it. You considered dinner, home cooked and waiting on the kitchen table but something else took hold in your thoughts.

You could order pizza later.

So Steve came in the door with his shoulders slumped and his keys rattling from his fingertips, his green work vest already discarded and probably balled up in the backseat of his car. That frown was there, the one you’d wanted to soothe away all day for him, creasing at his brows, turning down the corners of his soft and pretty lips.

He thawed when he saw you, barefoot and in an old sweater that was too big for you, legs naked and your skin still warm from the shower you’d taken your time in. Steve held out a hand, groaning in delight when you stepped to him, all soft smiles and softer sweater, allowing him to pull you into his chest. His noises were doing things, rough sighs and low moans that made you think with what was between your legs, his purrs vibrating from his chest to yours as he curled his arms around your lower back.

It was easy to return the affection, pushed onto your tiptoes as you carded your hands into the hair at the nape of his neck, the smell of his cologne that you watched him spray that morning barely clinging to his skin. You nosed at his throat anyway, everything about him smelling like home and when Steve let out a low grunt at your adoration, you used one hand to pull at his jaw, bringing his lips to yours.

It was more than an average kiss ‘hello’. In fact, it made his brows shoot upwards and his breath hitch, the arm still around your waist faltering before he caught up with the pace you had set and tucked you in tighter to his body. He let you lead, eyes fluttering shut as he sighed softer than he had all day, letting you steal the noise and keep it for yourself.

Steve fell pliant for you, pretty lips giving in to yours as you kissed him slow, needy, lazy. Your tongue traced the seam of his mouth, teasing, testing, his breath ragged when he opened for you, trying to catch up. You pulled away then, pleased with the rosy cheeks and blown out pupils that stared back at you.

“Go sit down,” you told him, voice soft, quiet. There was a spell cast, not to be broken, not until Steve did too. “I’ll be through in a second.”

If Steve knew what you were up to, he didn’t say. No questions asked, the boy blinked and stumbled into the doorframe before righting himself, heading for the sofa. You’d long switched the television off, the lamp by the armchair dimmed low, the candles you liked to collect all lit and scattered across the coffee table and the fireplace mantle.

You returned with his whisky, the glass glinting amber in the candle light, your smile too coy. Steve raised his brows as you handed him his drink, his gaze too caught on your bare legs. He reached out for you, warm palm travelling up the back of your thigh, wide enough to curl around it and bring you between his knees.

Exactly where you planned to end up.

“What have I done to deserve this, huh?” He asked, whisky on one hand as he leant his chin on the soft of your stomach, eyes wide and dark as he looked up at you.

You scoffed, soft and light, your hands carding through his hair. You pushed it from his forehead, nails scratching at his scalp, beaming when he closed his eyes like he couldn’t help it, lashes fluttering against the tops of his cheeks. “What? Bring you a drink?”

Steve hummed, distracted. “Was thinkin’ more along the lines of deserving you.”

Love sick, that’s what you felt. An awfully sticky thing that glued itself to your heart at his words. You didn’t know what to say, especially not when he was looking at you like that again, all brown sugar eyes, honeyed and soft. So you bent instead, nose bumping his before you stole another kiss, gentler than before, lingering and as sweet as him.

You let him take one sip of his whisky before you dragged his shirt from his body, hair wild as you pulled it over his head, cheeks flushed and eyes surprised.

“What—?”

You didn’t respond, merely dropping to your knees instead and popping the button on his Levi’s. Steve swore, a dirty, throaty sound that made your stomach flip because you knew that he knew where this was going.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Fuck. You don’t have to do that—”

The sound of his zipped caught in the air, the rest of the evening quiet. The closed curtains and the flicker of the candle light made the small living room feel even tinier, a warm bubble where you could hear every little noise Steve made for you. His hand travelled up your forearm, fingers curling at your elbow and squeezing. Steve looked half gone already, lip parted and shiny from your previous kisses and you knew he’d taste like cedar and smoke now.

“What if I wanna?” You told him, pouring, just a little. Because what man could resist a pretty thing like you on your knees, lips soft and begging? You pushed yourself up, leaning into the space between his hips, your mouth skimming along his jawline, tongue licking into the corner of his mouth all sweet. It was barely a kiss, but it was somehow dirtier. “What if I told you I wanna make you feel better? That I’ve been thinking about your cock in my mouth all day?”

Steve groaned, falling into you, head on your shoulder, teeth biting down on the junction of your neck. “Fuck— baby. Baby, y’cant, you can’t just say shit like that.”

You grinned, amusement hidden from him as Steve continued to mouth at your throat, nose nudging down the collar of your sweater so he could kiss more skin. “I can’t?” You asked.

“Gonna make me lose my fuckin’ mind,” he mumbled. He lifted his head then, cheeks pink and eyes looking heavy lidded, pupils black and too big. He looked delirious on you. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed heavily, tongue licking at his lips. “You really been thinking about that?”

You nodded, making your eyes a little too wide, too innocent, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and it was a cheap shot, an easy target— but fuck, it worked every time. Steve’s hand slid to your ass, lifting your sweater out of his way and squeezing a plump cheek, only your underwear to be found underneath.

“So can I?” You whispered, mouth parted, brushing against his. You shared your breath with him, nose pushed to his warm cheek, hands coasting over his thighs as you prepared to tug down those too tight jeans.

Steve sounded too breathy when he answered but he still played your game, too far gone or not. He was watching your mouth when he spoke, transfixed by the pink gloss there, the way he could see your tongue between them. “Can you what, honey?”

You smirked.

Steve knew what you were asking. He just wanted to hear you say it again.

“Can I suck your cock?”

You heard it then, the hitch in his throat, the too harsh exhale. Steve looked at you like you were everything, like you’d hung each star and you were ever wet dream all at once. Lips pressed together to deal in his moan, his filthy words, he nodded, hair falling into dark eyes. And when he trusted his voice, albeit rougher and lower than before, he spoke.

“Yeah, honey, go ‘head.” He lifted his hips when you tapped them, jeans and boxers shoved down just enough for his cock to spring free, already hard and hitting his stomach. “You’re so— you’re so fucking sweet, y’know that?”

You smiled, all coy, faux shyness as you leaned your cheek onto his thigh, denim and coarse hair against your skin. Steve gasped when you wrapped a small hand around him, fingers barely meeting around his girth and you stroked once, twice. “I am?”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer before your tongue followed, a lazy, wide lick from the base of him to his tip, already dark pink and slick for you. Steve’s hips canted up, head thrown back against the cushions and you adored the way you got to watch his jaw tense, neck straining as he calmed himself down.

“God,” he blew out a breath, eyes trained on the ceiling because if he looked down and saw the way you were kissing a line up his cock, he’d fucking lose it. “Yeah, baby. The sweetest, Jesus Christ.”

You took it easy on him then, easing him into it until his shoulders sagged and his head tipped back up, his pretty face more flushed than ever but Steve watched you as you took him into your mouth, his jaw unhinged as you sucked the tip of him, licking over his head.

His hand found the back of your head, holding but not pushing and he groaned something fierce when you scratched at his bare thighs, nails dragging over the muscle there. “Tha’ s’it,” Steve moaned, unabashed, totally gone. “Keep suckin’ me, honey, yeah— please. Can you take more, huh? Take a little more for me, please, baby.”

You didn’t need to be asked, begging or not, but it certainly made it all that sweeter. Steve’s hand was cupping your jaw, thumb stroking over the corner of your mouth as you widened it, tongue licking out over his cock as you took more of it into your mouth, inch by inch until he was touching the back of your throat. It made the boy go a little wild, gasping and panting, curses mixed in with praise that was filthy enough to make your own toes curl.

“Holy shit, jus’ like that, yeah,” Steve was slurring, words meshed together in a quick mumble, his breathes too heavy for him to care. “You feel me in your throat? You’re so fuckin’ good for me, babe, Christ— yeah, yeah, lemme see your tongue, yeah. Stick it out for me, honey, oh shit—”

You did as asked, pulling back with wet eyes and warm cheeks, your lips shiny from your efforts. You kept a hand around Steve’s cock, slowly pumping him as you stuck your tongue out flat. You knew what he wanted, it was why his cheeks were so pink, the tips of his ears too. Something he found too vulgar to ask for, always scared you’d shy away from it.

You never did.

You tapped the head of his cock against your tongue, the wet slapping sounds nothing but pure filth, your own breathy noises too much for him. Steve could barely keep it together, eyes screwing shut as he bucked upwards, swearing and groaning something awful as he watched his cock slide over your tongue. You let him move, hips thrusting as you held him to your mouth, parted lips slipping over his shaft, and warm tongue tracing the throbbing vein down the length of it.

“M’gonna come,” Steve gasped and he was shaking his head, hips pressing back down into the safety of the couch and he sounded overwhelmed, eyes glassy. “Fuck, no, no, no— I—”

“No?” You pouted, understanding. Pulling away, you leaned up again, wet lips sliding over Steve’s and he kissed you feverishly, tongue licking into your mouth to search for your own. He groaned, whining when you squeezed a hand around his cock. “Too much? You don’t wanna come yet, huh?”

Steve shook his head, hair falling into his eyes and his chest was heaving, his hands curling around your sides and he was pulling at your sweater, lifting it from your frame. “No, no— shit, not yet, please.”

You let him strip you, sweater discarded by his own shirt and your bare chest only made him swear a little more, eyes on your tits, your peaked nipples and suddenly he wanted nothing more than his cock between them. He felt drunk, delirious, suddenly too happy to care about how quickly he came.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he told you with a very serious expression. His hands travelled up, palms cupping your breasts, thumbs flicking over each nipple with careful precision. “M’gonna die and it’s gonna be because of you and your mouth and those tits and—” Steve choked on a laugh when you did, lashes fluttering as you took his cock back in your hand. “—and m’gonna be a very, very happy man.”

Grinning, you rolled your eyes at his declaration, as dramatic as they were. He was as hard as steel in your grip, his hips rolling up into your touch and didn’t want to wait much longer, his poor cheeks bright red with the exertion of holding back. So you gave him a kiss, light and sweet, too sweet for the current situation but it made Steve all the more wild. You were murmuring low and soft to him, holding his cock to your tits as you stroked him, words whispered between cute little pecks at his lips, his warm cheeks.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“You wanna come, handsome?”

“Mhmm.” A whine more than a word. “Please.”

“Where do you wanna come?”

A swear, guttural and hoarse. A twitch of his dick at the thought of his options. “Fuck, I— uh, I dunno.”

“Here?” You asked him sweetly, pushing his length between your breasts, rubbing your own nipple so he could watch it harden again. “All over here? Paint me nice ‘n pretty?”

Steve couldn’t form words now, which was exactly what you’d wanted.

Your mouth made its way to his ear, voice dropping lower than before. “My mouth?” You whispered. “D’you wanna come in my mouth, Stevie?”

A jerk of his hips, a whine and a grunt as his cock kicked up once more. He was so fucking close. Steve let his forehead fall to your shoulder, too hot and too helpless and too fucking desperate. He clung to you, hands wrapping around your bare waist and he didn’t know what he wanted more. He could sit back and watch you drop back down to your knees, pushing your pretty tits together as he jerked himself onto them, knowing he could watch the way he dripped down your body.

Or he could get you to open your mouth, pink tongue back out and waiting, you doe eyed and watching him. He always got dirty with that, asking you in the sweetest voice to let him see it all in your mouth, asking you to swallow it like a good girl before showing him your clean tongue after.

If Steve didn’t choose he was going to fucking explode.

So he tugged at your waist, gasping as he wrenched himself from you, falling back into the sofa. He took his aching cock in his own hand, pumping it once before squeezing tightly, willing away the need to come right there and then. He patted his knee, his eyes glassy and hooded as he looked at you.

“C’mere, baby, come sit.”

You did as told, happily, easily, willingly. Your own chest was thundering, excitement itching at your too warm skin because whatever Steve wanted you’d give him. Your thighs were slick, underwear sticking to your folds in the most obscene way because Steve’s sounds were too much to cope with without being touched too. He looked a riot, the prettiest kind. His hair mussed and cheeks flushed, lips pink and slick from your kisses, his eyes a little wild.

He helped you onto his lap, legs spread over his knees and his dick standing hard and to attention between you both. You waited patiently for his instructions, to hear what he wanted from you and Steve let his head fall back onto the cushions once more as he watched you from hooded lids. His jaw was flexing with each stroke he gave himself, hazy gaze roaming over your tits, your stomach and then lower.

And then—

“Lemme see you, baby?”

Your stomach flipped. A sweet voice, a prettily asked question, some filthy words. You smiled at Steve, lips twisting to hide your absolute glee because you knew what wanted, what he wanted to do and you were more than happy to give it to him.

You didn’t say anything as you hooked your fingers into the crotch of your underwear, gasping a little at how wet they actually were. You tugged them aside, white cotton stretched over your skin as you held the material away from yourself. With your spread thighs, you let Steve have the filthiest view, all glistening skin, a swollen clit between wet folds. You didn’t look down, you didn’t have to. You could hear the slick, fast sounds of Steve fucking his own fist, his frantic, hitched breaths.

“That’s it, yeah,” he sounded gone, drunk. “So good—”

Instead you watched him watch you, his eyes set on your pussy, gaze on fire as he enjoyed the show and when you swept your fingers over the centre of your folds, Steve swore, his free hand on your thigh clutching you tighter.

“Dirty girl,” he murmured, his teeth catching his bottom lip. He was close, you knew he was. “Such a pretty pussy, Jesus Christ, can’t believe I was gonna come without gettin’ to see her.”

You hummed, all delight and amusement. You cocked a brow even though Steve was still staring at your spread legs. “I’m dirty?” You cooed. “You’re the one who’s gonna come all over my cu—”

And he did.

Steve came with your name on his tongue, making it sound like the dirtiest, holiest thing you’d ever heard. He was gasping, choked sounds leaving his pretty lips as he fucked his fist, come spilling over his knuckles and onto your folds, leaving you and your underwear even stickier than before. His head fell back onto the sofa as he caught his breath, an impossible thing with his heaving chest but you curled into him almost immediately.

You let go of your stretched out underwear, your own breath hitching when you felt the warm, stickiness cling to your cunt. Steve pulled at you as you moved closer, your hands soothing over his jaw and cheeks, thumbs rubbing over his flushed skin as he kissed you, head lifting lazily, moaning at your touch, your lips, the feel of your bare stomach pressing his half hard cock to his own.

He was sticky with it all, with sweat, his own release, your affection and touch.

It was too much and entirely not enough, not of you.

Steve’s lips clicked as he pulled them away from your own, albeit grudgingly. You tasted sweet, like strawberry lipgloss and him. He was still panting when he spoke, his messy hand held away from you as he took your chin in his other. His thumb pulled at your bottom lip, swollen from all your efforts and he watched the way it popped back into place, making you smile.

“M’gonna finish my whisky,” he mumbled softly, eyes searching yours. He was met with excitement, knowing, a whole lot of adoration and fondness that he felt for you too. “You’re gonna check my pulse—” you laughed, too bright and joyous for the gloomy light of the room. Steve grinned, cheeks aching. “And then we’re gonna go upstairs and I’m gonna return the favour.”

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