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hellfire--cult · 8 months

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Harrington!reader who struck up a friendship with Billy after finding him crying. It wasn’t long until she developed a crush on the older boy. But she knew she was the least attractive girl in school, and on the cheerleading squad. Every girl was all over him, she never thought he’d see her that way.

Movie Night

I'm so sorry, I got carried away, and I made it super long, SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE DOES this has: fluff, angst, mean brother persona on Steve's behalf, OOC Billy Hargrove, soft side.

wc: 8k (i got a lil inspired, no one requests Billy and I love to write him 😭)

Stupid Steve. Stupid school. Stupid fucking stereotypes.

You understand, you get it, the fucking sister of Steve Harrington should be the perfect girl, perfect as her idiotic brother. If only they knew that being in every single sport isn’t what Steve wants, it isn’t what he desires, it isn’t what he always dreamed about.

But it’s not that perfection they want from you, oh no. It’s not your fault you have bad eye sight so you have to wear glasses, and for some reason that made you fucking undesirable. Just because you are wearing glasses, and you’ve been wearing them ever since middle school, where there were minimum problems with it, and now in high school when you just want to be able to date someone, or even kiss, it’s almost impossible because of them.

So yes, you knew people didn’t want to be with you, and you knew that it was all because of the idealization of the Harrington girl not meeting their expectations. Jokes on them, every single fucking guy in school looks like stepped on shit.

When you finally got into freshmen year, you already knew Steve was the most popular guy in school, always boosting about it at the dinner table, father always saying how proud he is for Steve being the captain of almost every fucking imaginable sport. You looked up to Steve, you really did look up to your brother… Until you crossed those forsaken high school doors, and the only face your brother sent you was that of disgust and turned his back on you.

And that sets your fate.

Now as a Junior, your brother finally graduates this year. Ever since he started dating Nancy who is in the same year as you, he has relatively changed. At home, he now tries to invite you to hang with him at the mall, or tell you to have dinner together when your parents aren’t home… You declined his invitation every time. You prefer to eat dinner in your bed, alone, while he drives away to be with Nancy. Just you, your books, and some good music. You are fine.

It doesn’t help the fact that you have just one friend at school, and she’s not even always with you because she is Nancy’s Best Friend. Barb was always nice to you, and it’s the only one you talked to in class, because then in cheerleading practice, which you had to enter because you needed extracurricular credit because your parents said so, you were given the cold shoulder by every teammate there. You didn’t participate in the cheers really, you just wear the uniform every now and then and pass them bottles of water.

You just have to survive one year, just one more year and you can go to college, probably start anew, meet people, meet someone. You fixed your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you took notes while sitting at the bleachers, hearing the squeak of the tennis shoes of all the boys in the basketball team just going around. You hear a thump, making your eyes look up to see your brother laying on the floor, making you frown.

Then it made sense, as Billy Hargrove smirked, helping your brother stand up again.

You knew that he wanted to take Steve’s position as the most popular guy at school, getting prom king and all that shit. You have heard your brother complaining about him on the phone sometimes, maybe to Nancy or to one of his friends. From what you’ve seen, Billy looked like a tough and irritating guy, and there is no need for you to get close to him at all, and you really could care less about what he does to your brother.

And that is basically your everyday life. Invisible, and you’re fine with that.

You’re fine.

“Hey, can you believe that guy?” Your head snapped up to see your brother at your door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. You raised your eyebrow at him, looking back down at your book. “If he takes away my captainship in the team, I will– Dad will fucking cut my head off.”

“That’s what you get for following his dreams from day one.” You mumble in a low tone, but he caught onto it, frowning at you.

“I have my own dreams. I don’t follow his.” You nodded at that while still not looking at him. You really could care two shits about all of this.

“Maybe Nancy can help you with this kinda stuff. I'm busy.” You heard shuffling at the door and then a sigh. You heard steps and you raised your head to hear him slam his door shut, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go to a party or something because of the music he started playing on his radio. Not once you were invited to one of those, not even by your own brother. He had hosted parties before, and you were commanded to stay in your room all night. The only time you came out of your room was to the bathroom to pee, and even then you had to wait because people were always making out inside.

You got up from bed, closed the biology book to then set it on your desk, looking over to your library of VHS’s tilting your head to check what to watch tonight. You picked Terms of Endearment and Sixteen Candles. Your collection was full of romance and dramatic movies because it’s just your favorite genre to watch. Same with your books, your favorite being Sense & Sensibility.

Steve left after a few minutes, and you made your way down to start your Friday movie night, and tomorrow will be the same, next weekend too. You should get more movies, you are on a roll of rewatching stuff by now. But it was at this moment, when you put the cassette into your player, and you finally sat down and started watching Sixteen Candles that it all simply fell apart.

Your rough facade crumbles down as you see the romance of the characters on screen, the friendship that is displayed in these movies, late calls with friends, kicking your feet because the guy you liked kissed you, or even called you to spend time with you. You stare absentmindedly at the screen as you see the kissing scene finally happening and your fingertips brush over your lips, just softly, tracing the shape of them.

After a few hours Steve finally returns home, completely sober and cursing under his breath. He sees the light of the living room turned on and some blue light shining on. He walked inside to find you asleep on the couch with the TV still on. He sighed, walking over to turn it off but then his eyes looked at your form, making his face completely fall down.

He bent over your figure to see the dried tears on your cheeks, falling down onto the couch. He looked over to the coffee table to look at what you were watching, getting hold of the case. You watch the same movie every Friday night… And every Saturday night. He rubbed his mouth with a frown to his face as he looked back at your frame. And he always repeats the same action every Friday night and every Saturday night.

He stands up to grab the blanket that’s over the couch to put it over your body, and with tears in his eyes he bends over to press a soft kiss at the top of your head with a quiet whisper that he always repeats and that you never hear, not that you would believe him anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

Monday came way faster than you expected, and the morning was even quicker. Your parents were still away on their business trip, but Steve and you knew they were just out on vacation by themselves. Why have children when you just push them aside?

You take out the lunch bag with your sandwiches in it, and you walk out of the school doors and into the football field which was deserted because it was lunch time, so it always gave you the best opportunity to head behind the bleachers to have some peaceful time for yourself, and that was until you almost dropped your bag as you screamed and flinched when you saw someone already there who snapped his head back at you.

Billy Hargrove.

Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were still trying to focus from the scare but as soon as they did you realized that Billy’s eyes were filled with tears, one or two might have escaped because you could see the glistening trail that they left behind on his cheeks. You were trying to talk to him, but then his eyebrows furrowed together, a tight angry look on his face.

“The fuck you looking at Harrington?” You flinched back at that, annoyance switching inside of you instead of fear. This guy was crying and has the audacity to sound threatening?

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just seeing Billy Hargrove actually having feelings is a sight.” His eyes snapped wide at your response, surprise crossing his features while he stared at you this time. “Who’s staring now?”

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just that hearing you fucking talk for once is a sight.” You were taken aback by his response, mimicking yours. You sucked on your right cheek in annoyance as he wiped his cheeks away.

“Well, off you go.” He snaps his head at you, a frown on his features to then letting a smirk spread on his lips.

“I came here first. You go.” You scoff at that, shaking your head at him.

“No, I always come here at lunchtime, it’s my place.”

“Well, that’s lonely as fuck.” You know that. You fucking know that, he doesn’t need to say it to your face, not the heartthrob of the school. Before your heart could turn in pain you nod at him.

“Fine, take it for today.” You turn to finally walk away. Maybe you can eat at the picnic table in the forest? But sometimes the stoner would go there to deal, and you weren’t judging Munson really, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive.

“Wait.” You stopped on your tracks and slowly turned around to see Billy slumping down on the ground, his back resting against a column of the bleachers while he rested his forearms on his bent knees. “You can stay here if you don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.”

Who would you even tell this to? He might be scared that you would tell Steve about it, but Billy seems to not know you don’t actually have a good relationship with your brother, and you have just one casual friend in this school. You look in between the bleachers and towards the woods and then you look back at Billy, giving a sigh and finally sitting down with your legs crossed.

It was silent between you two, almost uncomfortable but not quite. You were eating your sandwich and you took out a bottle of water out of your bag too. You glanced once at him, and he was looking at the distance, just breathing slowly. You wanted to know what happened to him, because he didn’t seem like the guy that would cry easily. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow up at you.

“Why do you eat here?” He asks and you clear your throat, taking a sip of your water.

“Why were you crying?”

“Touché.” You gave a nod in understanding. You weren’t going to talk to him if he wasn’t going to talk to you. You looked inside your bag to grab onto the other sandwich, and you handed it to him. He looked at it with a frown and then back at you.

“If you’re here it means you didn’t eat. Basketball players need food.” You calmly say to him and he looks down at the sandwich, taking it from your hands, and then taking a bite out of it, grimacing in disgust.

“What the fuck is in this?” He looks down into it and you smirk at him, finishing off your own.

“Mustard and pickle sandwich.”

He ate the sandwich anyway. It was nice to eat lunch with someone for once, even if that person was Billy Hargrove and it would be a one time thing in your life… Though, it wasn’t. Billy was back behind the bleachers almost everyday after that. He wasn’t at all that persona that he was with everyone else with you. The cocky insufferable bastard you knew was all a mask, and you could see it when he told you about how Tammy Thompson tried to hide a fart with her cough in class.

“You’re fucking kidding…” You were giggling, covering your mouth as you both sat in front of one another, and the closeness slowly shrinking as two weeks went by of eating lunch with him.

“I am not, she actually thought it was discreet, but I heard it. Not that I said anything about it, but it was a total boner killer.” You raised an eyebrow at that, swallowing your apple that you were having as dessert.

“What, girls can’t fart Hargrove?” He rolls his eyes at you and then raises his hand to flick your forehead, making you wince and rub the skin he left in a red state.

“I didn’t say that. When you trust someone enough to do it in their face, sure. Not in the middle of class, and much less when you are a chair in front of mine.” At that you let out a laugh, throwing your head back. He chuckled and took a swig of his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t hit your face.

“God, I really don’t pay attention to shit like that.” You took another bite of your apple and Billy was still looking at you, clearing his throat, making you look up at him.

“What do you do on Friday nights? I mean, your brother is at every single party but you are nowhere to be found.” He asks you and you feel your cheeks flush slightly at that. You look down at your apple and swallow your bite.

“I often watch movies. Have my own movie nights, sometimes with popcorn, and if I am feeling fancy, S’mores.” You gave him a small smile as you took another sip of water but Billy was still looking at you with a frown to his eyebrows.

“By yourself?” And you suddenly felt embarrassment washing over you. How pathetic were you? He is a guy that has every student in this school eating at the palm of his hand, plans of going out somewhere almost everyday, a date every single night, and you just watched movies and read books for company.

“I– I have to go.” You suddenly blurt out, standing up abruptly to then wipe your jeans from the dirt of the floor. Billy was following suit, doing the same thing, and about to stop you, but you were already walking away. You didn’t need the reminder of how stupid all of your life sounded. You didn’t need it from him. You were always reminded of it by your father, saying that you should be more like his son. Your mother says that at her age she already dated someone and had tons of friends. Steve showing off his new relationship and friends to you, keeping you in the shadows from everyone.

You didn’t need more reminders.

So when you got home, and realized Steve was already out of sight, probably at Heather’s party, you took your time to shower, put on some comfy sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a gray hoodie, and you grabbed your movies and went downstairs. Maybe they will cheer you up from all the stuff that has happened with Billy today. It’s stupid, you both don’t talk to each other all day, yet at lunch you just talk non-stop.

Sweet popcorn was today’s choice and you were already salivating at the smell of it all. Once it was done you put it in a bowl and headed over to the living room, turning the TV on, and putting Pretty in Pink in your VHS. Steve must be getting drunk with his friends by now, dancing to Roxette or something like that. You popped a single popcorn in your mouth and you were about to press play but you were interrupted when glass knocking was heard from the sliding door to the garden.

You jumped up in fear, eyes widened as you quickly turned your head and saw Billy fucking Hargrove outside the doors. You blinked once, twice, three times. Wasn’t he at Heather’s party too? You stood up from your seat, blushing at your attire but he already saw you in it, no time to actually go change. You fixed your glasses at the bridge of your nose as you walked towards the doors to finally unlock them and open a side for him.

“What the fuck are you doing here Billy!” You almost screamed at him, but he raised his hands up in a surrender mode and chuckled at you.

“By that yelling I am assuming your parents are still gone. Let me in, I’m fucking freezing.” He walks past you and you scoff at the nerve of this man. You close the door and you see him looking around with his hands inside his black leather jacket. Your eyes trailed downwards for a second, taking in how tight his pants were, but you snapped out of it, walking around him so that you were facing him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask again and he simply shrugs, still looking all around your house.

“Party was lame as shit, and you said there was a movie night here tonight. That seemed far more interesting than Tommy trying to do a keg stand and falling onto it, breaking his nose.” He walks to the couch, sitting down on it and he immediately grabs the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Your mouth hangs open again at this, going to the couch and sitting down next to him.

“You– I don’t need your pity.” You say to him, looking down at your hands as you played with the hem of the sleeves of your hoodie. He chuckles at that and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, I don’t pity anyone. The party was really fucking boring.” He takes a popcorn in his mouth and he hums at the sweetness. You raise an eyebrow to look at him. You never thought Billy Hargrove would be on the sweet side of stuff. “So, what are we watching?”

A smirk formed on your lips. He was gonna fucking hate it, that’s what he gets for barging in your house.

Yet–

“I fucking hated Duckie.” You were wide eyed at him. He had paid complete attention to the movie, even giving small commentary that he really liked the fact that the girl stood up for herself. He turns to look at you, a frown coming to his eyebrows. “What?”

“I just… I didn’t think you like this genre of movies.” You reply to him, a little bit nervous for some reason and he smiles at you and then looks back at the screen.

“I never watched one of these. They have a lot of plot, and they’re interesting.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement and you grabbed his shoulder, which made him look at you alarmingly.

“You’re in for a ride.”

Billy came back again the next day, taking the chance that Steve was out at Nancy’s for the night. He then sneaked into your room while Steve slept and you played Grease on your small TV and VHS that were on top of your dresser. He actually enjoyed it, but despised it because it was a musical. The next time, he actually came through the front door, and you both finally watched Sixteen Candles together. Now, Saturday Night, Steve was at Nancy’s for a family dinner and Billy was taking out two beers from the six pack he came with.

“I don’t drink…” You say to him and he raises an eyebrow up at you.

“Daily or weekly, but you have tried alcohol. One beer is not going to kill you Sweetheart.” You nodded at that and you grabbed onto the can, sitting back down on the couch. You opened it as Billy walked towards you and plopped down with a huff, already taking a swig out of his can. You grimaced at yours and you took a tentative sip, lowering the can to look at him, completely disgusted by the taste and he simply threw his head back in laughter.

“Disgusting.” You say to him and he shrugs at you, sending a smile your way.

“It’s an acquired taste baby, you just keep drinking it, if you feel fuzzy you can leave it.” You felt your heart accelerate at him, feeling the butterflies exploding in your stomach. You didn’t know when your relationship with Billy took a turn for the better, but he actually sends a smile your way this time when walking down the halls, he sometimes greets you when you pass by him in the hallways, like he is not making it seem like he doesn’t know you.

So it was hard not to fall for him. It was undeniable at this point, and even if he was strong and mean, and an ultimate bully to everyone else, he comes here to your house, watches romantic comedies with you, eats popcorn with you, and you two talk about nonsense all evening. Nobody knows about this, and you’re happy to have this secret between the two of you. You can live in the fantasy a little bit longer.

“What did you bring?” You look at the cassette he got and you look at the front of it. You grimaced again and showed it to him. “The terminator?”

“Classic sweetheart, it’s an action movie, you gotta expand your movie knowledge a bit.” You didn’t want to complain, it was the first time Billy suggested to watch something he likes, and in reality you were interested in knowing it, and hopefully like it the way he does.

News flash, you didn’t like it.

“Why are there so many guns?! It's unnecessary!” You complain, your beer gone and you do feel a little fuzzy but not too much. You just felt giddy. He laughed at your side and shook his head as he drank his second can.

“That’s what action movies are, baby, they are irrational, little to nothing of plot, and shooting everywhere.” He says and you sigh at that, shaking your head. The room filled with silence as Billy looked forward, his smile slowly disappearing. “You know why I come here often?”

You straightened at that, blinked with confusion as you turned to look at him. You frowned when you saw how serious he got, just out of nowhere, and your belly turned for him, not in a romantic way, but more of a worry kind of nervousness.

“Because parties now bore you?” You ask him and he gives you one chuckle and then shakes his head, resting it on the backrest of the couch, looking at the ceiling.

“You help me distract myself.” He took a deep breath in as you kept looking at him and you knew it was something he was having a hard time talking about. “The day you saw me crying… I was actually afraid.”

“What?”

“My father… Let’s just say he has– a rough hand. Any slip up I make, I just get a punch out of it… I’m just so angry all the time, so unlike my fucking self and who I actually am when I am at school. I just let out my anger towards people, because I cannot take it out on my own father.” You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and you knew he was trying to choke back tears as he talked. Your heart just knotted at seeing him like this, feeling helpless, not knowing what to actually tell him.

“Billy–”

“And you… I tried to be mean to you… And you actually had the guts that no one had at this school yet. Talk back to me.” His head turned to finally look at you again and your eyes burned at his confession. “I couldn’t be mean to you… With you I can— I can be calm, watch a movie, talk about how creepy that Creel house is and how we should sabotage it– I mean, the only thing I talk with the people from school? Chicks, sex, cars, alcohol.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips, turning your whole body to face him, your legs coming to rest on top of the couch too, bending them and resting your side on the backrest.

“Well, I am glad I could help in some way… My house is always open for you Billy.” His eyes were just staring into yours now, the only thing being heard in the room were your breaths, until he finally talked.

“Can I kiss you?”

What?

There is no possible way you heard that from him. This is a dream, it has to be a dream. There is no way Billy Hargrove, your now friend, your crush, the guy you like has asked to actually kiss you. This only happens in movies, in books, and it never happens in real life, at least, not to you.

“W-Why would you want to kiss me?” And Billy’s features turned into saddened ones at your words. Don’t you realize how beautiful you are? He straightened up on the couch, his body turning to face you as well as both of your hearts jumped out of your chest.

“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?” was his short answer. Your belly turned in pure nervousness now as your body grew a cold sweat. You never kissed anyone, and Billy seemed to know how to do it, and you were just too inexperienced. A flush came over all of your body as you fixed the glasses on the bridge of your nose and you looked down to avoid his gaze.

“I– I never–” You gulped, not being able to finish the phrase from how stupid it sounded. A warm hand was pressed on your cheek, making you lift your head up to look at him again, and you didn’t realize how close he got to you, his blue eyes staring into yours.

“I ask you again… Can I kiss you?” And you finally give him a nod. You weren’t going to miss this chance, not for one second. He still wants to kiss you despite you not knowing what you were getting yourself into. He smiled at you and grabbed onto your glasses, pulling them off your face and setting them on the coffee table. “They were just going to get in the way.”

You took a shaky breath in, his hand still on your cheek as he slowly leaned down towards you. You closed your eyes and his remained open to remember your features as he finally does what he has been wanting to do for the past weeks. At first it was a simple attraction of course, but he knew it was more than that, and he was scared as shit about it… But he never wanted someone as much as he’s been wanting you.

His lips connected with yours in a soft peck, brief, and you let a breath go out of your lips, only for another peck to land. Then another, then another that lingered there a bit more, and then the next one he just stayed there, and suddenly started moving his lips, guiding you as your heartbeat made you deaf in your ears. How do people do this and not faint at the spot?

The lip smacking was heard in the room as your hands finally were brave enough to travel, one scanning his bicep, the other one moving towards the back of his neck, feeling his skin under your fingertips. His free hand landed on your waist, not pressing too hard so that you know that he is being mindful of you. At this point, Billy would already be inside someone, satisfying his needs, but with you… He wasn’t going to do that, at least not now, not yet, and that is if you let him.

He wants to take care of you.

He pulled away for a second, his lips touching yours still as your breathing mixed with one another’s in soft pants. You were feeling as if you were burning all over, not knowing what was happening with you. You never felt like this before, and maybe it has to do with the fact that not only was Billy good looking, but you also feel more than just friendship for him.

“You okay?” You nod frantically at him, wanting more, giving him a peck on the lips making him chuckle in a low tone. “Sorry baby, but I need more.”

He suddenly pushed you back on the couch, crawling over you and you didn’t even think, you just wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he kept his bottom half away from yours, even if it pained him on his thighs from the strength he was doing to keep himself up. His lips connected with yours again, rougher this time, more desperate, the kiss suddenly turning into a very heated one as he suddenly licks your bottom lip a few times.

The butterflies in your belly explode as you open your mouth and his tongue finally slides in. You gasp at the feeling, your hands finding his biceps through his blouse, and you felt his chain hitting your neck at every movement. One hand was still gripping on your waist, while the other remained at your nape, pulling you deeper into the kiss.

You really can’t believe this is happening, not to you, not with Billy, it doesn’t make sense that he looked your way, it doesn’t make sense that he actually wants to kiss you, not when he has Heather on his tail all the time, or Carol even if she is dating Tommy. Or Janet. You always hear them talking about him in the bathroom, always planning their move on him, and this feels you with a sense of power, with a sense of accomplishment and pride in yourself.

Your hands ran through his hair and he groaned into the kiss, and that ignited so many things inside of you that you never felt in your life, and you wanted to hear more of it. Billy was trying his best to keep himself in a hovering position with you, but he was finding it harder and harder to do so. He can’t go on, at least not today when it was your first kiss. He didn’t want to scare you, even if your urges were the same as his, because he could feel your need to pull him even closer.

The door suddenly clicked and both of your eyes snapped wide open, pulling away, looking at one another, panting heavily. Best scenario, it's your parents, and they would be thrilled that you actually, and finally, have someone over at your house… Now, worst case scenario–

“What the ACTUAL FUCK?!” You both sat up on the couch to look over at Steve, who was standing there in the living room, wide eyed, and his face reddened bit by bit. Shit.

“Steve–” You started talking but he raised his hand at you, to then point a finger at Billy.

“Get the fuck off my sister.” You wanted to roll your eyes at this, because why is he acting all protective now? You finally got some action in your fucking life and he wants to take it away from you.

“I don’t think she wants me to leave.” Billy dares to say, glaring at your brother who took a look at the coffee table, seeing the cans of beer. His mind started racing, and Billy followed his gaze, his mouth opening to talk but Steve was running up the stairs already. Your eyes widened and you pushed Billy off, standing up quickly and urging him to do the same.

“You have to leave!” You were trying to push Billy towards the front door but his feet were still planted against the floor with a frown to his face, and your head snapped to the stairs to see Steve running back down with his baseball bat in his hands. Billy’s eyes widen when Steve starts to approach him with a swinging motion.

“Taking fucking advantage of my sister is something I won’t take from you Hargrove, so get the fuck out of my house before I crush your skull in!”

“Shit, Harrington– Fucking listen for a second–” Steve’s baseball bat hits the backrest of the couch, and you could see the dent of the wooden under it that he created. Billy ripped himself off you and gave you a look as if asking if you were okay.

“I’ll talk to him, you go.” You tell him and he gulps, looking back at Steve with a threatening look on his face which Steve only scoffed at.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Billy says with a small squeeze to your hand as he walks out of the house, passing by Steve. Your brother follows him to the front door and he doesn’t walk back inside until Billy drives away with his Camaro. After the roaring engine can be heard in the distance, Steve slams the door shut, throwing the bat at the floor and stomping back into the living room where you were standing there with a glare on your eyes as if you were about to kill him.

“When I saw his fucking car out in front of the house I thought it was a stupid coincidence, and I come in here to see you about to have sex with the sluttiest man in the goddamn school! What are you thinking!?” You frown in anger at that, stepping towards him.

“I am his friend! I wasn’t going to have sex with him, and he wasn’t taking fucking advantage of me! I drank ONE beer, ONE!” You yell back at him and he fake laughs as he runs his hand over his face.

“The first time you have a guy in this house, and it is Billy FUCKING Hargrove. The one guy that I am fighting with for Captain at our basketball team, the one guy that gives me the hardest fucking time of my life at the moment, and you want me to just accept that he wants to be with you because he WANTS TO?” Your chest hurt at those words, your own coming out in soft stutters at Steve’s blind rage.

“He even asked me if I wanted to, and I said yes–”

“God, you cannot be this fucking stupid! He hates me, makes my life a living hell, and you seriously think that he is a nice guy!? You really think there is no ulterior motive!?” He yelled at you and his words were stabbing you in every part of your body, your head already spinning from how harsh he was being with you.

“Why? Is it impossible that he actually wants to be with me?” You try to say loudly at him, even if your fingers start to feel numb. He scoffed at that, looking at you.

“Yes, and I don’t think you are dumb enough to not see that.” He was referring to so many other things, and it was regarding Billy’s persona, in Billy’s actions, in his rivalry with him… And when he saw your tear rolling down your face, his anger evaporated as if water was being thrown at him.

“Okay…” Was your defeated response. You turned around to retrieve your glasses from your coffee table and Steve winced, clenching his eyes tightly together as pain rushed through his body.

“That wasn’t what I meant– Hey, listen to me, I really didn’t mean it to sound like that–” But you weren’t listening, putting the cassettes back into their cases and turning off the TV. You grabbed them and walked past him, going up into your room. Steve stood there, knowing he hurt you once again, not knowing what to do but run a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath as he started pacing back and forth.

He didn’t mean it to sound like no guy would want you, he didn’t mean it at all like that, yet the words coming out of his mouth betrayed him, completely. He doesn’t know how to make it up to you, because if he had given you the chance to go to the parties with him when you asked in your freshman year, many times, and told you yes instead of no, you would have more experiences, you might even have friends. If only he had let you come out of your room at his own parties when you asked him, almost begged him to let you participate, but he declined each time. Then in your sophomore year, you didn’t ask anymore, just accepted that he wasn’t going to tell you anymore about them, and you automatically locked the door whenever he hosted a party.

This year, he tried to invite you, many times. You always declined. You didn’t even want to eat dinner with him, and he knows you want to leave the house as soon as possible thanks to him. Even with your parents. For the past two years he had been so blind because of his father’s approval and the one of all the students in Hawkins High that he didn’t notice how your parents didn’t ask you stuff at dinner. All questions were always directed to him. He noticed this year, and he tried to tell them you had nailed your exams, and the only thing you got from your father was ‘As she should.’

He was the cause of who you were now. Not at all the bubbly and animated girl that asked him to raise her up like an airplane in their backyard, not at all the small girl that put makeup on him pretending she was a stylist, not at all the middle school girl that got excited to see him whenever she got home from school to tell him about what she learned that day.

He walked up the stairs and raised his hand to knock on your door, only to hear soft sobs on the other side, muffled. He wonders if you had also cried when he denied you all those times. He doesn’t know how to even make it up to you. He doesn’t know if he even can.

So the next day, when you didn’t come out of your room, he let you have your alone time. Now on Monday he tried knocking on your door, only to receive the notice that you felt sick. He tried walking in but your door was completely locked. His eyebrows twitched and his mind had come up with a plan. A plan he will terribly hate. A plan that might end up badly for him. But it’s what he deserves for what he did to you.

Billy looked everywhere for you, and even asked Barbara Holland where you could be. She told him that she hadn’t seen her at Science that day either, so his best guess was that you had skipped school. His jaw clenched when he asked other people about you and some of them didn’t even know what you looked like. He waited for the bell to ring, and he was going to tumble Steve down if he had to in order to see you. He didn’t care.

But when he walked out of the school doors to rush to his Camaro, he was surprised to see Steve Harrington sitting on his trunk with his arms crossed. Billy’s eyes hardened at the sight, walking towards him, tilting his head in question at the brown haired boy who was looking at Billy with a mix of emotions behind his eyes.

“Harrington. Get off my fucking car.” He says and Steve gulps as he looks to the side.

“I fucked up.” At that Billy’s eyebrows turned into a frown, but his fists started clenching as Steve kept talking, telling him everything, everything he did to you, and what he had said to you that night when Billy left.

While this was happening, you were combing your hair after the shower you took while sitting on your bed. You had taken a shower because you were greasy from yesterday already, and you really didn't want to get up, but you didn’t have a choice. Ever since Steve said that, you didn’t have the guts to actually call Billy because at some far away place in your mind, it made sense.

You were invisible, and suddenly you were noticed? It doesn’t sound real.

So maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it really was to get into your pants to mess with your brother, and that was honestly the most reasonable explanation for it. You frowned when you heard the door open downstairs, your door was left open so you could hear some drawers being open, to then hear steps coming up the stairs. Your eyes widened when you saw Steve slamming himself against the door frame of your room.

His eye was completely inflamed from a punch received to the face, his nose was bleeding and he was holding some ice covered in a rug to soak the blood in it. From what you could see, his lip was busted as well and his breathing was coming out of his mouth, almost in a pant.

“Steve, what happened?” Even in your hatred for him, seeing him this way made your heart fill with worry, pushing all of the other feelings aside. You were about to rise from the bed until Steve raised his hand up at you.

“I deserved it.” He looked towards the hallway and your eyes widened when you saw Billy coming into view, a pack of frozen peas on his right hand, his eyes glaring at Steve as he passed by him and into your room. His eyes turned to yours and you couldn’t help but look up at him, completely stunned. Steve groans and closes the door for you two as he heads downstairs.

“What… Did you…?” You stutter as you sit back on your bed, seeing Billy’s injured hand as he sat on your bed too, nodding as he looked at you.

“I sure as hell did. Fucker deserved it. He told me everything, from the very beginning, and also what he said to you on Saturday night right after I left.” You feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down at your hands again. You are not understanding what is going on, nor why Steve would go and tell your life story to Billy. “Though I have to say… Your brother does care for you.” You scoff at that.

“Right. Like he cared for me the past two years.” You reply with venom in your voice and you feel Billy scoot closer to you.

“He knows. He knows what he did to you. Your freshman year was the punch on the eye, your sophomore year was on his lip… And what he said on Saturday was the one on the nose.” He lets out a chuckle and you feel mixed emotions to that. You were happy that he defended your honor, but Steve was still your brother and you didn’t want physical harm to come to him.

“Don’t punch him again… Please.” You slowly looked up at Billy and his blue eyes were already looking at you. Your heart rate picked up the longer he stared at you.

“Do you really believe what he said to you that night?” He asks you, a small worried tone behind his voice. You feel yourself gulp and you look away in embarrassment or nervousness, you no longer know.

“I– After years of feeling this way, it was a very possible scenario.” You say to him in a low voice, your fingers playing with each other. You see him put the bag of peas away, and his hands look for yours. You look down to see his right hand completely bruised up, some skin completely chipped off on his knuckles. You gasp at that and his hold gets stronger on you, making you look up at him. He was closer now, making your breathing get stuck in your throat.

“How can I prove to you that I want you? How can I prove to you that I like you, that I like you very much that I drive myself insane with this fucking feeling, because god knows I am not good with relationships…” For the first time you see a blush come to his cheeks, and his gaze looks down at your connected hands, like how you do when you get nervous. “But I wanna try that with you.”

Your heart leapt out of your mouth almost, not truly believing what was happening, but the bruised knuckles made it more real, the blush on his cheeks made you realize it was no dream at all. This man in front of you wants you, despite it all, and you both have so many broken pieces to pick up inside one another, but you figure that you can help each other. You can mend his heart back, as he can mend yours.

“I think… The first step would be a date…” You say to him almost in a whisper and he chuckles as he looks up at you. He squints slightly at that as if in thought as your smile grows on your face while looking at him.

“I have an idea for it. I think they are showcasing the new Rambo movie.” He says to you with a smirk to his face and your mouth fell open at that, shaking your head.

“I am not watching an action movie on our first date!” He chuckles at that, his face coming closer to yours slowly, and you feel magnetized to him as you both leaned into one another.

“Oh, I bet you prefer the one where the bad boy goes for the intelligent and perfect girl, that genre, right?” You squint at him, pretending to be offended by his words.

“Don’t act like you don’t like those movies Hargrove.” At that he chuckles, his left hand snaking to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him, a soft breath hitting your lips as he talks.

“I might have a thing for romance.” His lips touched yours again, and you smiled through the kiss, your own hands resting on the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, to taste him even better. Your lips moved along with his, taking in eachother’s breaths, bodies coming closer at each second.

“Don’t fuck my sister, I draw the line there. Not today, not with me here.” You both heard Steve’s voice behind the door, making Billy groan in annoyance and pull away from you to glare at the door as the steps could be heard and another door closes down the hallway.

“I am punching him again.” Billy says and you were glaring at the door too.

“My turn.”

A/N: Well shit, I hope you enjoyed. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A ONE SHOT.

6K notes · View notes

fairyysoup · 10 months

Text

i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.

aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it

words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift

a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…

Hawkins High, September 1984

He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.

That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.

You stare a lot.

It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.

You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself.

That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!

It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.

You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something.

You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.

God, you wish you could kiss him.

Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.

“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you.

You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.

Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again.

“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.

You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder.

And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway.

Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you.

He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it.

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does.

I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.

You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”

You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.

Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.

‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will.

Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.

It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.

You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.

Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.

You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.

Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.

Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.

You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive.

A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.

Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again.

They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.

What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying.

Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.

You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will.

You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).

You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.

Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him.

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.

He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.

Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you.

It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.

You know too well what that feels like, right now.

Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.

But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”

Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”

He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.”

“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience.

You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”

“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”

“Billy Hargrove?”

Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”

You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”

Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.

You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”

You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair.

Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.

Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’

Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing.

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Prom Night, May 1985

The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.

Except, well.

Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.

The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth.

You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile.

You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.

You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.

As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.

You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?”

“I’m not sulking.”

You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”

“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”

He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night.

But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.

“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”

You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”

“Who?”

You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”

“Kelly Palmer.”

You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.

You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.

“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”

You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”

“Yeah, I hope not.”

“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”

“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.”

You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens.

“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.

“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”

“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face.

Steve Harrington is touching your face.

His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.

Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.

You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.

“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him.

“STEVE??!”

You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.

She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.

You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile.

“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”

Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer.

Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.

You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.

Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana.

Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.

You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.

Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”

It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it.

You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation.

But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you.

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.

You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”

“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”

“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”

“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.”

“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”

You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”

“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.”

Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.

The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.

“Are you ready?”

“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.

What did you say? What did he say?

“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.

“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”

Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”

“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.

You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.”

“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?”

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.”

“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.

He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”

You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.

You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.”

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”

You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror.

He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”

“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself.

You like it a lot.

You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”

“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”

Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”

You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.

When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.

You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.

You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.

Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”

“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.

“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”

Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”

Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours.

The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”

“I made it up.”

Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.”

Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?”

“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.

“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”

“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?”

“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…

Family Video, March 1986

The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.

Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night.

This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.

The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own.

You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”

You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.

You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”

“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”

“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”

“So, right after I last saw you?”

Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?”

“I wish.”

You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return.

You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.

You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.

You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted.

You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”

Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”

“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”

Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?”

Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?”

“I’ll be here.”

“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away.

“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly.

Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!”

Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”

“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”

“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”

Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?”

“No.”

“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.”

“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?”

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him.

“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.

Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”

Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.”

“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.

Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.

Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy.

If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count.

He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.

Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.

Oh.

“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.”

“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”

“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section.

You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.

You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”

“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.”

Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”

“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.

“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”

A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals.

“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly.

“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking.

“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”

He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.

He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.

“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers.

Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst.

You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.

“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”

“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”

“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.”

Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.

You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?

“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack.

Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop.

Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.

“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”

Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.

And again.

And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices.

You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant.

As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.”

Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.

Logan Sawyer.

“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.

As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.”

“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.

Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”

“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.

“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”

You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.”

Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York.

You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt.

“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.

Oh my fucking god.

It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm.

Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?

“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.

“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.

You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.

He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?

Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.

“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.”

You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”

“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?”

Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”

“Great. I’ll have that, please.”

Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps.

“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”

Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date.

You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away.

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”

“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me.

Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel.

That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying.

Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.

His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.

As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…

Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite.

You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones.

Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time.

You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things.

“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”

You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”

Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”

“You just said-”

“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”

Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”

“It was fine.”

“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…

“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve.

You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”

Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box.

“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”

You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him.

When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box.

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms.

“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check.

Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”

“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day.

Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes.

There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind.

The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms.

The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”

You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you.

He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now.

Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours.

You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.

But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco.

It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building.

You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him.

Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.

“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”

“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”

He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?”

“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open.

Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.

“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you.

He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”

“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.”

Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”

You don’t have to ask him twice.

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.

“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”

You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”

“The price.”

It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.

“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice.

“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”

“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”

He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.”

“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.

“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.

Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.

Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.”

“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?”

“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”

“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you.

He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.

You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”

“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.”

Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.

You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”

“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out.

Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.

He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.

Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?”

Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.

Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”

“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”

“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”

You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor.

Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open.

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”

He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”

Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you.

“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”

His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”

Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”

“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit.

You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”

He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”

You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom.

He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders.

You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.

“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”

Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”

“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”

He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.

You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?”

Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”

Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”

He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”

Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.

Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.

He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours.

“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.

“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”

Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”

“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do.

Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started.

Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.

You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”

Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”

You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”

“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”

He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.

Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning.

You want him to do it all over your body.

Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips.

Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind.

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.

“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline.

“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”

Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him.

But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?”

His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.

“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”

“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”

You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”

“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?”

How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?

“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”

“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.

What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…

You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows.

You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.

You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.

There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.

You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.

“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose.

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”

He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?”

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”

He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.

But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.

Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.

“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”

“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”

“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.

“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork.

That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”

“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”

You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.

Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself.

“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.

Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.

“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

(I see you, I see you, baby.)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #roses*

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hsllfirescoopsreblogs · 1 month

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☆ ｡･:*:★,｡･:*: ☆ ｡･:*:｡･:*:★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*: ★

「 ✦ steve harrington ✦ 」

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all steve harrington stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some with have summaries if provided <3

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

🎧 previous fic rec

🎧 @upsidedownwithsteve

🖇️ give me a night, i’ll make you

⤑ Steve teaching reader how to really kiss? Like she’s only ever had bad ones before?

🖇️ my name is whatever you decide pt2

⤑ old money steve, an infatuated waitress, no labels, a disaster waiting to happen. some smut, some jealousy and too many mentions of monaco

🖇️ request

🖇️ she drives me crazy pt2

⤑ summer camp, broken kayaks, too much tension and that boy you hate. an enemies to lovers camp counsellor story.

🖇️ meet me in the afterglow pt2

⤑ another year at summer camp, more broken kayaks, a change of plans, a lot of wondering. meet us in the afterglow.

🖇️ like it’s love?

⤑ “I love you,” Steve whispered and his voice cracked on each word. Tears from his eyes stream the dirt on his face, running rivers down your cheek until they mixed with your own. “I’ll find you again. In the next life, and the next again. I prom—”

🖇️ all their works

🎧 @lovebugism

🖇️ request

🖇️ request (shy!reader valentines)

⤑ steve helps his shy gf celebrate her very first valentine's day

🖇️ request (shy!reader)

⤑ steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot

🖇️ request (king!steve)

⤑ steve comforts you when he accidentally makes you flinch

🖇️ fix it

⤑ you thought you were over it, the whole steve-and-nancy thing. spoiler alert: you aren't.

🖇️ request (shy!reader)

⤑ steve finds out the cute girl at the record store likes him and decides to bring her ice cream as a proclamation of love

🖇️ request (king!steve)

⤑ the one where king steve keeps his best girl a secret.

🖇️ request

🎧 because of you by @crappymixtape

🖇️ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve

🎧 more than just friends by @schoopsahoy

🖇️ you and your best friend have gotten into the habit of making out, as long as there's no touching. but that's easier said than done.

🎧 tell me you love me pt2 by @upsidedownmvnson

🎧 the aftermath by @starcourtsteves

🖇️ After the Battle of Starcourt, Steve and the Henderson siblings go back to the Henderson house for a sleepover so Steve and the reader are catching up/finally relaxing in bed (she was with the Kids and Steve in the Russian base). Dustin eventually crashes in his sister’s room for mutual comfort.

🎧 oh, you didn’t know? by @stevie-petey

🖇️steve is pathetically in love with you and for some reason the universe hates him and continues to pray on his downfall. typical.

🎧do you want to be my valentine? by @certifiedlovergirlsstuff

🎧 i knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss by @andvys

🖇️ Steve was slipping through your fingers and you desperately held onto him not realizing that his heart wasn’t yours anymore. Dealing with the aftermath of your breakup turns out to be harder than you thought. Steve’s presence still lingers and while he keeps a hold of your heart, someone else sneaks their way into it too.

🎧 dirty dancing by @nexusnyx

🖇️ When Steve went to the address for investigating purposes, the last thing on his mind was stumbling upon one of the most beautiful sights he's ever seen. It happens, though, and he convinces himself that meeting you was only a thing of the moment, until he encounters you outside the cinema a week later, crying. He does something about it.

🎧 alone with him by @buckylattes

🖇️You get locked in a store with Steve(thanks to him being an idiot) and you’re not sure how long it’ll take to get out…but something else gets out before you guys do. Thankfully it stops your arguing and hate for each other.

🎧 @munsonluhvr

🖇️ how to fake it

🖇️ request (confident!reader)

⤑ king!steve harrington x confident!reader. after setting his eyes on you in the cafeteria, steve, and all of his ego, pursues you; though you don't fall to your knees quite as easy as the other hawkins high girls.

🎧 @keerysfreckles

🖇️ breaking the silence

🖇️ time after time

⤑ steve's longing glance to y/n makes him decide to stay at the hawkin's middle school snow ball.

🖇️ reunions

⤑ during spring break of 86, y/n hopper flies back to hawkins indiana (dustin's request) and isn't surprised when dustin tells her the world might end again.

🎧 power trip by @silkscream

🖇️you and steve settle your differences when he drives you home.

🎧 whole by @freelancearsonist

🎧 request by @familyvideostevie

🎧 fast times at family video by @thursdaygxrls

🖇️ steve’s great a flirting. that is, until robin gets involved.

🎧 request by @princekeerys

🎧 a stranger valentine by @fictionalthrill

🖇️Steve puts himself out there on Valentine's Day.

🎧 golden hour by @plainemmanem

🎧 right person wrong time by @fleurrreads

🎧 second chance by @astermath

🖇️steve decides to ask out the girl who he keeps seeing around hawkins with her nose in a book. he’s a little surprised when he gets brutally rejected, only to find out his “king steve” era is haunting him more than he expected. he attempts to make it up to you and show you he’s changed, even if it takes him a couple of tries.

🎧 favour for a favour by @yellowharrington

🖇️ steve has a big ol' crush on the girl that trades him pastries for movies every week.

🎧 crushes chaos and confessions by @quin-ns

🖇️ dustin knows how steve feels about you and he can’t stop himself from spilling his best friend’s biggest secret to you.

🎧 sincerely yours by @superblysubpar

🖇️ a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places.

🎧 @starryeyedstories

🖇️ jessie’s girl

⤑ Steve is in love with you and you’re trying desperately to ignore the fact that you’re in love with him too…because you’re dating Jessie, the perfect jock you’ve been with since high school who everyone expects you to settle down with.

🖇️ absolutely smitten

⤑ There’s a new crew member at Scoops Ahoy and Steve might have a crush.

🎧 @nervoushottee

🖇️ illicit affairs

⤑ You wish you were enough for Steve, but he will always want Nancy.

🖇️ go for it

⤑ Steve has been your “movie guy” at Family Video for a while now. Little does he know that the main reason you’ve been buying these movies is to flirt with him and just maybe ask him out

🖇️ this or that steddie x reader

⤑ You can’t seem to figure out what you like better between Steve and Eddie

🎧 @loveshotzz

🖇️ blurb

🖇️ i guess it’s never really over

⤑ Convinced by your best friend to return to Hawkins for the summer, nothing is like how you left it five years ago, including the boy you’ve done nothing but try and forget.

🎧 @captainmarvels

🖇️ home away from home

⤑ When you and Dustin leave Steve alone for half the summer, he realizes just how much he loves his two favorite people.

🖇️ a case of you

⤑ When you catch Steve’s eye from across the mall, all he can think about is you. Will he garner up the courage to say hi, or will your flirtatious banter remain an unspoken thing?

🖇️ where i lay down

⤑ Steve has one year left to get you to talk to him, and he doesn’t realize how much he loves the game until you let him win.

🎧 @jurassicbarnes-archives

🖇️ coy

⤑ In which you make the first move (and Robin wins a bet)

🖇️ eventually

⤑ In which you break up with Steve but a series of unfathomable events eventually lead up to you wanting him back.

🖇️ the keg stand

⤑ In which you take a stand to protect your best friend’s reputation

🎧 @slashersteve

🖇️ five tickets

⤑ Steve couldn’t pass up a chance to be able to kiss you, even if there is a price.

🖇️ just friends

⤑ There's a reason Steve keeps making fun of the guy you're going on a date with, you just don't know what it is and he'd like to keep it that way.

🖇️ let’s kiss

⤑ It might be the end of the world, and you're for some reason worried about having never been kissed. Steve decides to change that.

🖇️ ahoy there

⤑ Steve keeps striking out with girls, and Robin is having a time about it. The score for the day is 0-5, and then you approach the counter and suddenly it becomes 1-5

🖇️ some kind of disaster

⤑ Reader and Steve have been together for a few weeks now, and she runs into a person she had a fling with once. That person was Billy Hargrove, and it’s the first Steve’s hearing of this.

🖇️ stuck with me

⤑ you and Steve have been through some tough shit, but it was always together. This time, it really seems like you’re going to die and Steve doesn’t want to die without telling you something first

🖇️ next best thing to an angel

⤑ Reader has been cursed by Vecna, and the group has to work fast in order to find a way to rid her of it. There's too many close calls, and just when they thought they had it figured out...it just might be too late

🎧 @lesservillain

🖇️ (alpha!steve)

🖇️ borrowing

🎧 his good luck charm by @bimbobaggins69

🖇️ king!steve getting a little frisky before the basketball game because he swears you’re his good luck charm

🎧 request by @forever-rogue

🎧 stories tucked away by @harringtown

🖇️ AU in which the reader is pulled into the Stranger Things world. With the knowledge of how the story ends, they try to change the script and save the characters they’ve come to love. But this isn’t just a show, anymore, and destiny isn’t easily affected, even if that destiny was written by a pair of grown-up film kids

🎧 request by @stevebabey

🎧 it’s not like he’s my boyfriend by @luveline

🖇️ Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore.

🎧 wrong address by @ash5monster01

🖇️ Three dozen roses have just been delivered to your door on accident, in attempts to find the sender and correct the mistake, you discover you might have just found your match.

🎧 request by @ashwhowrites

🎧 hot for teacher by @handful0fteeth

🖇️ you’re going on your first date with steve harrington, and hours before he’s due to pick you up your best friend gives you some rather unsavory information.

🎧 thin mints and menthol by @trashmouthhharrington

🖇️ It’s set a year after Season 2 has finished and you’re a senior in high school who’s often getting into trouble with the law for petty crimes. And Hopper usually gets you out of trouble. Then one night the new officer Steve Harrington joins him.

🎧 hard to handle by @rax-writes

🎧 i want you to show me by @v-writings

🖇️ steve finds you in your secret place after dropping Dustin off at the Snow Ball, and talking about how he’s feeling leads you to do something neither of you could have expected.

🎧 you bet by @captain-hargreeves

🎧 he’s an idiot by @harringtonhq

🎧 bumps and bruises by @ofnifflersandkings

🎧 paralyzed by @murdockparker

🖇️ She walked in on a Friday afternoon. Steve needed nothing more than to get to know her--if only he could find it in himself to speak to her.

🎧 that guy by @appocalipse

🖇️ After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him…

🎧 cowboy hat rule by @taintedcigs

🖇️ helping out mr. harrington in his ranch was supposed to be fun, but steve harrington was an asshole. an absolute pain in your ass that teased you, and you gave him the same energy back, always. so when you unknowingly wear his cowboy hat, he decides to teach you what exactly the cowboy hat rule is.

🎧 romance is dead, isn’t it? by @megxplryxb

🎧 pretty girl by @hellfireclubmember

🖇️ Dustin can't stop talking about the sub he got to fill in for Lucas, making Steve want to smash his head into a wall. That is, of course, until he sees you.

•MASTERLIST

•STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST

hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3

last update april 8, 2024

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington series #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington masterlist #steve harrington fic rec

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sortagaysortahigh · 2 years

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Maneater | Steve Harrington

A/N: besties i was gonna post this sooner but i had to let my drunk fade away, anyways i present to you sub!steve (season four steve to be exact bc he is so fucking MMM MMMM MMMMMMMMM), also had to make the reader a lil punk rock bitch ok

Summary: “I thought she’d be like mean and shy but not she wasn’t shy at all-she’s like-she’s like a man eater-Definitely an apex predator if I’ve ever seen one. Steve she was looking at you like she wanted to eat you”

Warnings: so much smut but theres plot!, cussing, spelling and grammar errors, kissing, spitting, hand jobs, crying, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving/giving), P in V sexy time, praising, degrading, marking, biting, sub!steve + dom!reader

Word Count: 9k (way more than i thought there would be like jfc the plot came out the cut, then the smut is like omg ok bitch period)

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

(JUST LOOK AT HIM OH MY FUCKING GODS DGSDHGHSDGHSDHGHIRDSHIG MY COOCHIE)

Steve Harrington was a lot of things, and as of late a ladies man was not one of them. Sure he could get dates now that he actually listened to the advice that Robin gave him, however he wanted more than just meaningless hookups and dates with girls who could barely hold a conversation. He wanted a relationship, craved the closeness and intimacy of it all, he wanted a best friend and a lover in one, but somehow day by day he lost hope that he’d find that in Hawkins.

That was until he laid eyes on Y/n Y/l/n. He remembered her from highschool-solely because she hung out with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson and his group of metalhead losers-granted now Steve didn’t consider them losers, after all he did experience a large amount of character growth throughout his senior year of high school. He’d still won prom king though.

People knew Y/n, not because she was stereotypically popular, but because she was a hot commodity-people wanted her but she let a very select few get that-hell Steve knew exactly zero people who’d managed to get past her mean facade-or get past the layers of black, denim, leather, and eyeliner.

The girl was attractive-that much was a fact. Guys always talked about wanting to see “if she was as freaky as the shit she’s into”-something that Steve usually brushed off, ignoring them due to his relationship status alongside his social status. He had English with her, and for their Shakespeare analysis project she’d been partnered with Tommy H. The same Tommy H. decided to brag about sleeping with her for two weeks after the project was presented-that was until she’d smashed his front windshield with a baseball bat in the school parking lot during lunch-then he admitted to lying about it-she was suspended for two weeks.

However Steve wanted more than to sleep with her-there was something else to her-something he’d noticed the day she walked into the Family Video with Max Mayfield in tow. While Max said her hellos to Steve and Robin, Y/n looked around the comedy section-a shock to Steve as he expected her to be a Horror kind of girl. That’s when he realized that there was always more than meets the eye.

She worked at the arcade next door to his job, and after cornering Lucas and Dustin he found out that she was rather close to Max, the redhead had gone to the Arcade often-trying to find a distraction while she grieved her brother’s death-and Y/n just happened to be the one on the mid-day shift.

Lucas and Dustin did a horrible job explaining her friendship with Max, however from what they did know she was the only person Max found herself talking to-telling her about the things she was going through-and opening up to. In a way Y/n filled in the role of an older sister for Max, and when she found out some of the Junior and Senior boys at Hawkins were trying to bully Max, while simultaneously bringing up her douchebag brother’s death she did not hesitate to show up to the high school, bat in tow.

Everyone knew Y/n wasn’t afraid of being arrested-she’d been arrested more than once, Hopper letting her off the hook each and every time because the missing Sheriff-supposedly deceased which Y/n did not believe-had a soft spot for her. After all, the girl was just a troubled teen-and she found her way by standing up for herself by any means necessary.

All Y/n had to do was speed into the parking lot, get out of the black Monte Carlo with her bat in hand and make her way towards the convertible full of jocks-some she remembered others she asked Eddie about-and hop on top of the front hood. She pointed the bat at the boys, a smile on her face, black lipstick perfectly applied as she smiled down at them.

She only said two sentences: “You see that pretty little redhead over there-Max-yeah talk to her again and I’ll personally knock your teeth in” followed by “Nod your empty little heads if you understand me”, then got off the car, knocking the bat into the hood, leaving a sizable dent before blowing them a kiss and walking off. Of course the teenage boys tried to explain what had happened at lunch-however the beauty of it being the Fall of 1985 was that there were no active security cameras monitoring the outside of the buildings and because the boys were all bullies-there were no other witnesses to prove their case.

After it happened Dustin explained the entire scene to Steve, Robin excitedly nodding along while mumbling about how badass Y/n looked, then going on a tangent about how pretty the girl was-all the while Steve found himself thinking more and more about her.

Then a week later he finally saw her in the parking lot, the two pulling into work at the same time. She stepped out of the black car wearing a black The Ramones baggy shirt tucked into a pair of black frayed denim shorts, ripped fishnets on her legs, her voluminous hair framed her face. He watched as she slid her black sunglasses off, eyes adorned with black eyeliner and messy eyeshadow, lips lined with black, colored red.

From that moment he was Smitten. She was the pretty, mean, punk rock girl that worked behind the Arcade counter and he wanted nothing but her.

The only problem was that Y/n Y/l/n did not like Steve Harrington. The minute she spotted him staring at her all she did was raise a brow, before telling him to “fuck off pretty boy”. But even then the way she said ‘pretty boy’ made him blush and he thought about it all day.

All of that happened four months ago, it was now January and he was still smitten. He’d see her walking into work, and occasionally when he’d close so would she. He’d see her walk through the front doors of the Arcade, locking it up, and he would wait in his car in the parking lot, looking around, making sure she was safe before she got into her car and sped off. That was also something he’d noticed about her-the girl drove as if she was training for a NASCAR race.

He’d noticed a lot about her, and anytime she caught him staring to any capacity she’d repeat the same four words “fuck off pretty boy”. Sometimes she’d add more, always something along the lines of “Can I do something for you Harrington?” or “Don’t you have VHS tapes to rewind?” whatever it was-it was always sarcastic-and that had Steve in too deep.

So deep that in fact once he found himself asking Max what kind of flowers he thought Y/n would like while the fifteen year old was in the Family Video, finding a rental for their weekly movie night-to which Max replied with “I don’t know-why don’t you ask her you weirdo”.

That was the last time he asked Max anything about Y/n.

Some days he was positive there was something else in the way that Y/n looked at him, a glint in her eye-something floating through her piercing gaze-then suddenly it’d be gone when she’d flash him her middle finger before walking into her job, Arcade vest in hand.

“Steve, you cannot be serious right now! You want to ask Y/n out? Y/n Y/l/n? She wants nothing to do with you! No offense dude but I don’t think you’re her type” he scoffed at Robin's words, taking his eyes off the road for a second to glance at his best friend, mouth agape and brows furrowed in shock.

“You really think that lowly of me?” Robin laughed, nodding her head “She’s like this totally cool, hot, punk rock chick and you’re a guy who probably owns more hairspray than does! You two are like polar opposites, you were prom king and she smashed car windows with a baseball bat!” he scoffed again, shaking his head a few times while he focused on the road ahead, turning the steering wheel as he pulled into the parking lot in front of their job.

“Oh come on! You really don’t think I have a chance?” Robin tilted her head, brows knit in concentration while she pursed her lips inward before nodding her head a few times “I’d say you have a .0001% chance with her” just as Steve was about to respond, he noticed Y/n’s car speed into the parking lot which was definitely more packed than usual.

Then she pulled into the spot next to his, her window tint not dark enough to disguise the way that she grabbed her Arcade uniform vest-screaming into it-then closing her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. Steve’s lips were parted as he watched her-mesmerized by the simplest of actions-granted he’d never really seen much out of her past her being mean, cussing him out, and the few soft moments she had when she was with Max, the two laughing in an aisle of the video rental store.

He was dazed-so much that when she turned her head to open her door she caught his stare, immediately giving him a dirty look as she rolled her eyes, then her gaze flickered to Robin who was now looking at her as well, so she flashed the girl a closed mouth smile, then she gathered her things and got out of her car, shutting the door and locking it before making her way towards the front door of her dreaded job.

Before Robin could make any comments Steve practically jumped out of the car, calling Y/n’s name as he sped walk towards her-by the time he shouted her name a second time and she stopped in her tracks to turn and face him he was only a few feet away from him.

He’d taken a few moments to trail his eyes along her moving figure while she walked, today she had on a pair of black thin stockings-the tops of them slightly showing, accompanied by a black leather miniskirt-something he questioned due to the forty degree weather outside, but he guessed her black knit sweater and oversized leather blazer were evening out her body temperature.

When she turned to face him he practically lost his train of thought-eyes focused on hers while she stared at him, the thick black eyeliner and shadow around her eyes only accentuated them-an expectant look on her face while she slightly shook her head, a brow raised.

“Pretty boy I don’t have all day. Speak-I’m waiting” the slight dominance in her tone was bringing heat through Steve’s body-his cheeks flushing slightly as he nodded his head a few times with his lips parted as if he was about to speak but he couldn’t get the words out.

After a few more seconds of looking like a lost puppy he finally blinked, nodding his head “Yeah uh-hey-so I was wondering if you were free-uh maybe tonight? After your shift” she blinked a few times, furrowing her brows before smirking at him. “Are you asking me on a date, pretty boy?”

There it was again, the underlying dominance-something he wasn’t used to-something that had his mind melting. She was confident as she spoke, the smirk on her face made him want to get on his knees and worship her, not to mention the way that she shifted her weight to one foot, one hand holding her black leather bag and uniform vest, the other near her face-one finger resting against her bottom lip as she lightly brought the black acrylic nail between her teeth as she smiled.

But the glint in her eye was evident.

“Uh-uh yeah-yeah I am” she nodded her head “and where do you plan on taking me hmm?” her tone was almost degrading, it made his already melting mind feel fuzzy while she spoke to him. “Any-Anywhere you wanna uh-go” she moved her nail from between her teeth, now puckering her lips slightly, finger tapping against them while she mimicked a thinking expression.

“Seeing as I close the rest of this week-and based on the fact that you and her are just getting here-you do too-nothing’s open after we leave work Pretty boy. So where’s that leave us?” Steve so desperately wanted to say ‘your place or mine’ but he knew that she’d just scoff and walk away, that was the only thought he had, he had no other real answer so when he turned into a stuttering blubbering mess she smiled before shushing him.

“I can think of a place-or two you could take me-but what do you wanna do huh?” At this point she stepped closer to him, the same confidence in her voice and she sounded so sultry-Steve couldn’t tell if it was because he was a blushing dizzy mess, or if this was actually happening.

Before he could respond she simply patted him on the chest twice-then she gripped his denim jacket-tugging him a little closer “Cat got your tongue Pretty Boy?” with that she let go, turning around and walking off-the cocky smile now on her face.

Robin got out of the car, wide eyed, jaw dropped, mouth gaping like a fish out of water while she stared at Steve who was still staring in Y/n’s direction, his hand now on his chest where hers was while he processed everything that just happened.

“Are you serious?! She’s so into you? How is she into you?! Steve C’mon” with that Robin quickly grabbed the keys from the car, locking her door then running to the drivers side and locking it before running towards Steve-grabbing his sleeve and pulling him with her into the Family Video where their co-worker Ryan was already clocking out-the older man not saying a single word to the two as they got behind the counter.

Steve was still stunned at everything while Robin smacked his arm excitedly.

“I don’t know how you did it Steve-but she’s so into you! I mean did you see the way she was looking at you! She was laying it on thick” Robin rambled while she took their time sheets, clocking the two of them in “I thought she’d be like mean and shy but not she wasn’t shy at all-she’s like-she’s like a man eater-Definitely an apex predator if I’ve ever seen one. Steve she was looking at you like she wanted to eat you” he blinked a few times, processing Robin's words.

However his mind was still fuzzy, and his filter was long gone by the time the words left his lips “I wanna eat her out” Robin gagged slightly, a look of horror on her face now “TMI Harrington! TMI!”

In the building next door Y/n sat in the worn red stool behind the counter, chewing gum while she thought about Steve. Sure she knew Steve in high school-he was a douchebag, he was mister popular, the star of the show, prom king himself. She hated his friends, especially Tommy-God she was so glad that she’d smashed his windshield in. But she always knew Steve was different-he wasn’t as much of a prick, he wanted to be popular, wanted to fit in, so he stuck to those that were popular.

Then something changed their senior year-after he’d broken up with Nancy Wheeler-he wasn’t the same, hell he changed for the better. That wasn’t enough for Y/n to want to associate with him though, she liked her friends, she liked Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and the rest of the Hellfire club-hell she designed their shirts.

But now things had changed, they were out of school, still living in their hometown, working next door to one another, and she had to admit, his continuous pinning was cute. The way he’d stare at her, the way he would stay late to make sure she got in her car safe, and the way that he’d always have a deep red blush on his cheeks anytime she called him Pretty Boy-that blush made her mind wander, she wanted to see him blushing, see his chest rapidly rising and falling, see him flustered, a stuttering flushed mess-that’s how she wanted to see him.

That’s what she wanted to do to him. However she was never a fan of making the first move-mainly because people never really caught her eye. She wasn’t a virgin-that was a fact-but she wasn’t someone who enjoyed casual hookups often, she liked relationships, some days she missed having a partner-but other days she simply rolled her eyes and went about her day because relationships meant commitment and they also meant heartbreak.

Steve Harrington made her question that, he was a change of pace, she’d only had a few actual conversations with him, most of the time telling him to fuck off for staring too hard-but secretly under her hard exterior she loved the way he stared at her, and the way he payed attention to her. The way his eyes would rake across her figure, not in a ‘I wanna fuck you’ kind of way but more in a ‘you’re so beautiful’ kind of way. She knew how to differentiate the two because of Steve-he was the only one who showed her the ladder.

She’d been waiting months for him to make a move, she was patient, and honestly she didn’t care-she wasn’t interested in anyone else nor did she feel the need to rush anything. She was content with her sex life and romantic life, of course being content didn’t mean she’d decline Steve Harrington’s head between her thighs.

Y/n spent her entire shift rolling her eyes at teenagers and kids, reluctantly helping them and acting as if she was doing something on the large computer at the front desk-rather she was just playing pong. She hadn’t spoken to many of her co-workers today, most of them walking around the arcade and working in the storage room, so her day was pretty simple and very boring. Her mind constantly floating back to the possibility of Steve actually making a move tonight.

Then it was time for her to close, everyone was already leaving while she finished sweeping, then she wiped the counters down and washed her hands, thankful one of her co-workers cleaned the bathrooms already. Finally she grabbed her things, and left through the front doors, locking them up-glancing to her left to see Steve standing there, leaning against the Family Video windows with his hands in his pockets-to most he would look relaxed and maybe even cool-but Y/n immediately noticed the way his chest was falling a little too fast.

He was nervous, and that lit a fire inside of her.

“So did you figure it out, Pretty Boy?” Steve practically jumped at the sound of her voice, he was too busy hyping himself up to notice Y/n locking up a few feet from her-and now he was embarrassed as she spoke to him. He expected her to stop a few feet away, but no, she walked until she was inches away from him, now slightly looking up at him, a smirk on her face while they held eye contact, one of her fingers gliding along the length of his denim jacket.

“I’m waiting for an answer” her degrading tone was back and it only made Steve blush even more, he bit his lip, eyes dropping from hers to her red lips, all the while his lips were slightly parted.

Steve Harrington had never in his life been this flustered. He usually did this to other people-he wasn’t used to the change of pace and yet he was melting under her touch. She moved her fingers, now gliding along the white sweater he wore below the jacket-he felt her apply a little more pressure-just enough to make her touch known. She was teasing him, luring him into her trap-and he was falling head first.

“Yours or mine?” was all he managed, he tried saying it with confidence but her gaze shot right through his facade, eyes still focused on her lips, now they were upturned in a wicked smile. She leaned closer to him, lips right next to his ear as she whispered “make sure you can keep up, Pretty Boy” with that she placed a gentle kiss right below his ear-and due to her close proximity she didn’t miss the small whimper that slipped past his lips.

She quickly moved, shooting him a wink while walking to her car, easily unlocking it and getting in-the sound of the car roaring to life was what reminded him that he had to follow her-so he ran to his car, nearly tripping on the way-then he got in and the second he was inside, she was pulling off.

To say that it felt like a game of cat and mouse was crazy-especially because Steve felt like a mouse chasing the cat. Hell he had no idea where she was taking him and for all he knew she might just be ritually sacrificing him under the moonlight.

But his doubts were gone by the time he pulled into a driveway behind her, the house was in the same neighborhood as Dustin’s place, she only lived four houses down-it surprised him that he never noticed. He was always here dropping him off and picking him up, and Y/n’s Monte Carlo was hard to miss, maybe he’d just been too wrapped up in his ‘adopted’ little brother to see it.

He shook his head while hyping himself up again, now was not a time to think of Dustin, he was about to hook up with Y/n Y/l/n-the girl of his dreams-literally he’d had more than one dream about her. However none of them had her as dominant as she seemed, they usually involved him holding her hands above her head, while he was above her. Occasionally she’d be riding him, other times he just dreamt of the sweet sweet sounds she would make while he laid between her thighs, her hands tugging at his hair.

The second she knocked on his car door window he blinked a few times, turning the car off before opening the door-she was thankful she stepped out of the way, this wasn’t the Steve Harrington she’d heard so much about-he was smooth and in charge-this Steve was awkward, nervous, and somehow kept tripping over his own feet.

He cleared his throat while she looked at him, a small smile on her face, and a devious look in her eye.

“Don’t worry Harrington, I’ll take good care of you” with that she grabbed his hand, and his heartbeat immediately quickened-hell it felt like it would beat out of his chest as he followed behind her. He watched as she unlocked the door with one hand, kicking it open as she twisted the knob, then they were inside.

For some reason he never thought of Y/n’s house-or of the fact that she probably lived with her family, he always just thought of her so when he followed behind her in the house he was somewhat taken aback. The warm hues of color throughout the furniture, the plants delicately placed and taken care of, alongside the framed photos-including Y/n’s graduation photos side by side with her kindergarten graduation photos.

He didn’t have much time to admire the house, instead she was guiding him upstairs, and he couldn’t help but focus his eyes on her ass, her skirt slightly sliding up as she walked-the material hugging her curves perfectly. It was driving him crazy.

Then she stopped in front of what he assumed to be her bedroom door, dropping his hand-now turning to face him. He was already flustered-she thought it was so cute-the way he stared at her while he blushed, unable to hold eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time.

“Tell me Pretty Boy, are you gonna let me take care of you tonight?” His mind was now a jumbled mess of Y/n, he didn’t have one coherent thought outside of her, so instead of responding and babbling, he simply nodded his head-lips apart while he stared at her. “Do me a favor-” as she spoke she trailed a finger along his jawline “-use your words”

“Y-yes” she raised a single brow “yes to what?” “I’ll let y-you t-take care of m-me” his stuttering made her smirk, with that she opened her door, easily pulling him inside-her strength somewhat surprised him but his gaze caught hold of her room, something he definitely didn’t expect. Much like the rest of the house it was decorated in warm tones, not a single black item anywhere-outside of the leather jacket placed on her desk chair, she had plants hanging near the large bay window, brightly colored pillows along it, the girl had stacks of books, she had dice sets on her desk, a singular small lamp on letting a dim red orange hue spread throughout the space, and a few paintings leaning against the wall next to her large mirror.

“Surprised? It’s called duality” she spoke as she watched his eyes scan the room, her voice snapping him back to her gaze, she looked at him expectantly, before cracking a smile.

“How long have you wanted me, Harrington?” he bit his bottom lip for a second “too long to tell” she nodded her head “aw, we’re gonna have fun huh? I wanna see you red and begging” his eyes widened at her words, her sweet tone a direct contrast in comparison to her words.

His lips parted now while he nodded his head, brows slightly raised, unable to say anything-watching as she took her blazer off, tossing it towards her closet-then her hands were back on his chest-both of them gliding along his jacket while she held eye contact with him. She slowly slid her hands under the denim, pushing it back until he finally took it off, throwing it elsewhere-too focused on her to care where his clothes ended up.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” he nodded his head “y-yes, an-anything” she smirked at that “All it takes is one little touch to get you dumb huh?” she spoke as she tugged at the hem of his sweater before sliding one hand under it, her cold fingertips against his warm abdomen, fingers tracing the toned muscles.

Steve's mind was a haze and she’d barely touched him, he would never live this down-even if it was just coming from himself.

“Take it off” she didn’t have to ask twice, it only took a few seconds for Steve to pull the Sweater over his head, revealing his toned chest, she smirked at the patches of hair along his chest, and the evident happy trail he sported “uh-I-sorry for the hair if it’s not your thing-” before he could continue rambling on Y/n shushed him.

“You’re so pretty Steve” she spoke as she glided a finger along his happy trail, resting it against the waistband of his hands, tugging on it slightly before hooking her finger onto it-all while she held eye contact with him.

He felt as if he was about to combust, his skin on fire while she looked at him as if she wanted to devour him. Her gaze had him holding back a whimper-and when she pushed him back against her bed he didn’t expect it-knees buckling over the edge of her frame as he fell flat onto the mattress. In the moment he was embarrassed-but then he watched as she easily pulled off her top, tossing it on the ground, a black lace bra holding her chest ever so perfectly.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost” her words were teasing as she straddled his lap, the evident bulge straining against his pants while she looked down at him, both hands now on his waist, thumbs slightly grazing his skin-back and forth.

His body was on fire-it had to have been on fire-she had to have tossed a match on the bed before pushing him into it. His mind was melting away as he tried to figure out how her subtle touches were sending him higher and higher up the ladder of sexual frustration. He was so turned on it hurt, and seeing her, looking down at him with the faux innocent look in her eyes as she sat on his lap-sat against him-it was enough to have him start begging.

“Tell me what you want Pretty Boy, tell me what you think about when you can’t take your eyes off me” his lips parted as she leaned lower, supporting herself on top of him, her face now less than a foot away from his. “I wanna hear it, I wanna know what you’re thinking about, what you wanna do to me” he swallowed hard, breath picking up slightly

“Y-you, fuck all of you, wanna kiss you and hold you, sh-shit” his words left his lips without a single thought, all rushed out and jumbled. She bit her bottom lip, a smile on her face now as she moved her hands off his waist, now placing one next to his head on the bed-she was in charge and he knew that.

“Yeah? You wanna make me feel good? Wanna feel me cumming around you?” he nodded his head, lost in her-it was like she was sending his senses into overdrive. “You think you deserve that? You think you deserve to touch me?” her degrading tone made him whimper while he nodded, she was quick to lean over, talking directly into his ear “I want you to beg for it, tell me how much you want me” with that she started peppering kisses along his neck, red lipstick stains on his skin before she started licking and sucking at his warm skin-sure to leave marks behind.

He couldn’t hold in the moan that slipped past his lips the second he felt her lightly bite against his skin-his hands now finding her waist-but when she stopped kissing him-he immediately moved his hands-somehow knowing what she was expecting. “C’mon Pretty Boy-let me take care of you” he let out another low moan at her words, her kisses now against his collar bone as she worked on leaving another mark against his tanned skin.

“Fuck-want you so bad, need you, God I need you so bad, I’ll do anything-please” she smirked, now moving back, her lipstick smudged while she looked at him, then she pressed her lips against his, it didn’t take long for him to kiss her back-one of her hands now on the side of his face as she deepend the kiss, sliding her tongue against his soft lips-slipping past them as he let her in.

She started moving her hips against his, he moaned into the kiss feeling her move-the friction giving him some sense of relief. The kiss only getting more heated the longer their lips stayed together, Steve poured everything he had into the kiss-all of his want-his desire-his everything, and she gladly took it.

When she moved apart she let out a whimper against his parted lips “do you wanna touch me? Wanna make me feel good?” he nodded his head “fuck please-please let me touch you” she smirked, nodding her head, his hands immediately on her exposed waist, then she winked before getting off of him-easily pulling at his arms-directing him to hold himself above her-and the second he did she was kissing him again, her hands now tugging at his belt loops-pulling his hips closers to hers while she parted her legs.

He was in heaven-this was it-he was in actual heaven.

She tugged on his hair-the feeling making him groan-then she did it again, a little harder this time-getting him to move back-but his blood was flowing south. He panted while he sat above her-in this moment he knew she was in charge-regardless of the position-regardless of how he was fucking her-she was in charge.

Her hand was still in his hair as she spoke “Use your mouth Pretty Boy” that’s all she had to say, his lips now against her neck, kissing down her body, he cupped one of her tits, groaning at the sound of the high pitched moan she let out, then he slid the bra down-he didn’t bother taking it off of her-rather letting the straps fall as the cups now leaned against her stomach, tits out, nipples hardening at the cold air against them. It wasn’t long until his hands were back on them, one hand cupped her left breast, fingers tugging at her hardened peak making her moan, then he peppered kisses along the right one, his tongue finding her other peak, lapping at it before lightly sucking against it before bringing it between his teeth-tugging at him-earning a louder moan from her.

Her hands were back in his hair as she tugged at the soft brown locks, moaning as he switched his position, making sure to pay attention to every single part of her. He had to make her feel good, that’s all he wanted to do, so he continued kissing down her stomach, eyes meeting hers as he reached the top of her miniskirt. She smirked “hike it up, I want your mouth, want you to be good for me, you wanna taste me?” he bit his bottom lip, nodding his head as he moved his hands to her thighs-easily hiking the skirt up, moaning at the sight of her black thin lacey panties-they left little to imagination.

He was quick to spread her thighs more, laying between them as he licked and sucked marks into the skin of her left thigh before placing it over his shoulder. The sight of him between her legs had y/n biting her lip again, one hand in his hair, tugging at it, the other holding onto her tit, squeezing it, toying with her nipple while she watched him.

“Please-can I taste you-fuck need to taste you on my tongue” she smirked “such a desperate little slut huh? Been waiting months for this-just imagining what I taste like-tell me Pretty Boy-do you think of me at night? When it’s just you?” he nodded his head, looking up at her, lips parted, heavy breaths.

“Yes-fuck-yes, always you, everything about you-please” “then show me” he didn’t hesitate to lick a stripe up her clothed slit, the motion making her whimper, then he slid two fingers along her damp panties, easily pulling them to the side, exposing her to him-and he couldn’t stop the gutteral moan he let out at the sight of her glistening cunt.

“So pretty like that, between my thighs, begging to tongue fuck me” he groaned, nodding his head before licking another stripe up her cunt, then he lapped at it, moaning at the way she tasted against his tongue before focusing on her bud, he rapidly flicked his tongue against her clit, groaning against her at the feeling of her tugging his hair. Her back arched off the bed while she moaned-loving the feeling of his mouth against her.

She bit her lip, grinding her hips closer to his face, moaning. “Just like that-so so good” her praises made him moan, he slid two fingers between her thighs-his other hand gripping her left thigh, holding it close-practically pinning her in place while he harshly sucked at her clit-her moans only motivating him to keep going. Then she felt him slide two fingers right into her entrance, her moans louder now while he curled them into her-over and over again.

He needed to make her cum, needed to taste her, needed to make her feel good.

“You feel so good, oh my god, right there Pretty Boy-fuck make me cum like a good fucking slut” Steve moaned again, her degrading words mixed with praises only sending heat throughout his body as he grinded his hips against her bed-needing some relief while he chased her high-then he felt it-felt the way she tightened around his fingers and tugged at his hair.

She was cumming, her toes curling and back arching even harder while praises slipped past her lips, soaking his lips and chin in her nectar. He moaned while she came, lapping up as much as he possibly could-wanting to keep going-but he knew not to-knew to listen to her.

He slid his fingers out of her, bringing them to his lips, moaning as he sucked every last drop off off of them. She watched him with a smirk on her face.

“C’mere” with that he got up, leaning over her-and she pulled him into another heated sloppy kiss-this time her hands working at his pants, unbuttoning them, followed by his zipper, then she slid her hand inside of his briefs making him moan against her lips. She started to palm him while they kissed, each time her hand lightly squeezed the base of his cock he’d lose rhythm in the kiss.

Y/n thought it was cute, the way he couldn’t even focus on kissing her back while she toyed with his constrained cock. When she pulled away from the kiss she kept palming him.

“Please-” she tilted her head slightly “please what?” “Please-fuck please need you-need you to stop teasing” she pouted for a second “but you look so pretty like this, you’re so red, and your eyes are barely open-I’ve barely touched you and you’re already fucked dumb” he moaned at her words, nodding his head.

She shoved him, rolling so she was now on top of him, and she straddled a little lower than his waist, easily sliding his hard, thick, cock out of it’s confinements, she bit her lip while gazing at it. His veins were so prominent, it curved slightly to the left, and the tip was swollen, red, and dripping pre cum.

“The tip of your cock is the same color as your cheeks-nice and rosy-just for me” she spoke in a degrading tone as she placed a singular hand on the length of his cock, slightly tightening her grip as she slowly slid it up and down his length-she then paused-gliding her thumb across the tip, swiping it against the slit-spreading all of his precum around then she leaned over and spit on it-making his cock a wet sticky mess-all while he moaned and whined under her.

“Please-fuck please y/n-please” she raised a brow “tell me what you want-you want me to fuck you like the whore you are? You want your cock down the back of my throat-you wanna watch me gag on it? Make you cum over and over again until you cant even think straight?” he nodded his head rapidly at her words, vision hazy while he watched her above him-she was like an angel-but angels didn’t do things as sinful as this.

As she spoke her hand’s pace picked up, squeezing him tighter while she pumped his dick, holding eye contact with him-only going faster and faster-while he moaned and whimpered-his hands gripping her sheets. “Such a pretty fuck toy” he felt himself getting closer and closer-and based on the way he twitched in her hands-she knew it too.

“You gonna give me the first one? I want you to cum for me my sweet, sweet boy, cum all over my hand” he nodded his head, chest rising and falling, feeling himself closer and closer to the edge-then she leaned over him, now pumping his cock at a different angle while licking and sucking at the other side of his neck-making sure to leave more marks.

He moaned, his head thrown back slightly as he gripped the sheets “you wanna touch me? Wanna let me know how much you like me fucking you?” he moaned at her words, she was near his ear, low words sending vibrations down his spine-leading him to letting out a loud moan “you can touch me baby, hold me while you cum for me” he nodded his head, his hands on her hips now-fingers digging into her skin as his vision greyed over-feeling his orgasm flow through his entire body.

She smirked, feeling his cum land on her stomach and his, then she sat up, still smirking while he struggled to catch his breath-but she was nowhere near done. She leaned over, tongue tracing the ropes of cum on his stomach, all the while she looked up at him.

Then she moved on to her hand, licking his cum off of her fingers “you made such a mess-can’t let it go to waste, you did so good for me-but now you’re gonna do even better” he simply nodded, biting his lip while he stared at her through hooded eyes-never in his life had he experienced the amount of pleasure that was surging through his body.

She moved further down, kneeling on the bed while she looked at him “lean against the headboard” he nodded, doing as told, chest rising and falling rapidly while he watched her lie between his legs, he winced and whimpered as she grabbed his sensitive cock, not wasting a second before placing the tip into her mouth, lapping at it-sucking on it-and sending him into a pool of overstimulation-hands gripping the sheets while he felt dizzy. He’d never came more than once during a hookup-everything about this was new to him-and he was going insane.

She pulled back “you gonna give me another one? Cum down my throat? Be a good boy for me?” he nodded “use your words” “gonna be good-gonna be so fucking good” he was whining, whimpering as her mouth was back on him-his cock slowly growing harder in her mouth as she sucked on him, toying with his length, using one hand to pump him while she bobbed her head along him-all while holding eye contact with him.

She moved away to spit on his cock again-except she used the tip to smear her spit along her lips, Steve placing his hands over his face after seeing that-letting out loud uncontrollable moans. She wanted him desperate-and that was exactly what she was getting.

It didn’t take long for him to have to cum, his eyes watering from the pleasure while he gripped the sheets, constantly shifting in place-trying to stay as still as possible before she stopped all together.

“Please fuck-please can I cum-please-fuck can’t-cacn’t hold it” she smirked, taking him out of her mouth, still pumping the length of his cock while looking up at him-the string of saliva connecting his tip to her lip was driving him insane.

“You look so good when you cum-so flustered-so fucking pretty” he moaned “gonna cum all over my tongue for me? Be a spoiled little slut for me?” he nodded his head, watching as she stuck her tongue out, tapping his cock against it a few times-the sight sent him into overdrive as he shot ropes of cum along her tongue-one landing on her cheek slightly. She swallowed it all gliding her index finger along her cheek before smirking.

She sat up, smearing her finger across his bottom lip-before sliding it into her mouth-watching as he sucked on it “look so good like this-so fucked out-haven’t even been inside me yet” she leaned closer to him, taking her finger out of his mouth, sliding it along his lips and chin.

“Haven’t even felt how wet, warm, and tight I am-just for you to fill-to stretch-want my pretty boy to cum inside, wanna see how you look while I fuck you hard” he moaned at her words, nodding his head, whimper, lost in his world of her and overstimulation.

She grasped his cock again, pumping it over and over, slowly with a tight grip as she peppered kisses along his jaw-she moved to straddle him again-making it easier to kiss his skin. He looked like a fucked out slutty mess, hair in every direction, lips slightly parted and swollen, eyes hooded, skin flushed and covered in lipstick kisses and bruises and she loved every second of it.

“You gonna give me another one?” he nodded his head, unable to speak-words all jumbled in his head “good-cause I wanna feel you” he moaned at her words which made her mock him “such a cum drunk slut huh? Never been fucked like this huh? Never had someone use you pretty boy?” he shook his head-moaning as her grip tightened.

She smirked at his hard cock in her hand-he was so easy and she knew it was only for her.

She moved against him, sliding the tip of his cock along her dripping slit, he bit his lip so hard he thought it would start bleeding “u-use me” she smirked at his words “I already have been” it hadn’t occurred to him exactly how much pleasure she got from this-from watching him squirm and moan under her-watching the way she affected him.

“Look at me while I fuck you, wanna see those big brown eyes” he nodded his head, now gazing at her-eyes hooded while he tried not to shut them-tried to stay focused on her as she lined him up with her sopping entrance-sliding right down his cock-inch by inch.

She didn’t bother holding back a single moan, her head thrown back slightly while she felt him stretch her out and fill her until he finally bottomed out-their thighs touching again while she moaned.

“So big-feels so good-fuck I’m so full-can’t get enough of this cock-can’t get enough of you” he nodded his head, his loud moans never stopping as she started grinding herself against him before bouncing on his cock, up and down-then deciding to slide up his cock until only the tip was inside of her before slamming down onto him-the pleasure making his eyes start watering again.

She set her rhythm-fucking him as hard as she could-finally looking at him, her hands on his shoulders-using them for support as she continued bouncing on his thick cock, moaning his name alongside praises about how good he felt in her.

“Oh God Y/n-fuck-I can’t hold it-fuck so close” she bit her lip, her gaze had been held between their bodies, watching as he disappeared inside of her cunt, cock coated in her slick while she fucked him. Then she looked up, practically moaning at the sight of the tears running down his face while he threw his head back, biting down on his bottom lip while he tried not to cum.

“Look at you-” she moved on hand-grabbing his chin-forcing him to look at her “a crying stupid mess-hold it for me-or I’ll tie you up and make you cum all fucking night” her words had a slightly slur to them as she bounced on his cock, listening to him fall deeper and deeper into his world of pleasure.

He didn’t expect for her to lean forward, tongue against his jawline-licking the tears that rested there before sucking a mark into his skin-the feelings making his vision blur and all he heard was static-he was so lost in her that he felt like he couldn’t find his way out.

Then she let out a loud whimper-leaning her head against his shoulder while gripping his skin.

“Gonna cum-want you to cum for me-pretty boy I wanna feel you cum inside me” he moaned at her words, nodding his head-hands now gripping her waist-guiding her movements while he fell apart-the feeling of him filling her made her moan his name, eyes rolled back slightly as she quickly followed suit.

After the both of them caught their breath she slid off of him, walking-rather slowly at that-to the bathroom. When she came back Steve was trying to get dressed, eyes still hooded while he tried to balance himself-the sight made Y/n laugh, a smirk on her face.

“Really fucked you stupid huh?” he gazed at her, now blinking as he noticed the oversized t-shirt covering her figure, he watched as she trailed her eyes along him-smirking at his disheveled state.

‘Do yourself a favor Pretty Boy and stay the night-you’re too fucked out to be driving anywhere-you look like you can barely see” he sat down on her bed-running a hand through his messy hair while shaking his head “because I can barely see” his voice was strained-so she tossed the waterbottle on her desk his way-it landed on the bed next to him and he gladly opened it and drank most of it.

“Do you do that to all of the guys you’re into” she laughed at his joke, glancing over-watching as he took off his jeans completely before laying back onto her bed-staring at the ceiling. His thoughts were all on her-on the way she had him in tears less than fifteen minutes ago to the way she was now taking her smeared makeup off.

“Only the ones that end up being my boyfriend” his eyes widened at that, immediately sitting up while staring at her. She simply shrugged her shoulders, eyes now focused on the small mirror sat on her desk as she continued wiping away her makeup.

“Y-y-your boy-boyfriend?” she rolled her eyes, tossing the cotton pads into the trash can under the desk before glancing at him again, her hands now on her hips while she gave him an ‘are you serious’ expression, head slightly craned forward-brows knit together while she stared.

“I mean that’s c-cool, I didn’t know you were like-into that? I guess? I just thought-” she nodded slowly at his rambling, he ran his hands through his hair a few times while he tried to figure out what to say next-and truthfully his brain was still a pile of mush-recovering from the three orgasms and mind blowing sex.

“Into what? Having a boyfriend-or you being my boyfriend? Is the thought of me wanting to be in a relationship really what's shocking you the most Harrington-as if you haven’t stalked me for the past four months” his jaw dropped at her words-she wanted him to be her boyfriend-his mind now solely focused on that. He’d been into her for what felt like forever-and even after everyone told her that she’d never want him-she was here-telling him that she wanted him to be her boyfriend.

“No-no! No not at all! It’s just I didn’t really-uh think I was your type is all” she scoffed “I took you to my house and fucked you until you literally cried. I think it’s established that you’re my type”

He nodded slowly “but you’re all-like punk rock and like into metal and you wear leather and black, and you hated me in high school and you’re friends with Munson, and you’re-well you-uh-” she nodded her head slowly, brows raised, holding in a bubble of air in her cheeks while his words started to melt together as he tried to save his ass.

“Steve do you or do you not want to go on a date with me-If you don’t want to eventually probably end up being my boyfriend that’s cool-just say no. You’re being weird and I’m about to make you sleep in your car outside”

His eyes widened at that, the red flush back on his face, and now as she sat in her bed, only in his boxers, she noticed the way the blush traveled through his neck and onto his chest as well. He was covered in marks, the lipstick stains and hickies making Y/n smirk-proud of her work.

“No-wait no that’s not what I mean! Y-yes-yeah-of course-yeah” she nodded, walking towards him until she stood between his legs, she then pulled him into a soft kiss, one hand toying with the hairs at the base of his neck, the other gently caressing his jawline. He was quick to kiss her back, his hands on her waist while their lips moved in sync.

Then she pulled away, resting her forehead against his “stop being such a weirdo Steve-I like you-clearly-now shut it”

The next day the two of them woke up late, both of their shifts scheduled to start at two in the afternoon and the clock read one fifteen, Y/n was quick to shake Steve awake, telling him they had to go to work-and once he noticed the clock he practically shot out of her bed, rushing to put last night’s clothes on while Y/n pulled a new outfit out of her wardrobe-changing without a second thought.

The sight of her pulling on her clothes-stepping into her panties-had Steve’s jaw dropped while he stared-only to be met with “fix your hair-you look like you just got laid” when she turned around, facing him in just her bra and panties. She then pulled on a pair of black jeans, accompanied by her hellfire club t-shirt, and the faux fur lined leather jacket she kept for colder days.

She pulled Steve behind her to the bathroom across the hall, grabbing him a toothbrush and shoving it in his direction-the two of them still rushing-to the point that Steve hadn’t realized he still had lipstick stained kiss marks along his neck-plus the few hickies that were visible above his neckline.

What shocked Steve the most was Y/n tossing his keys at him, telling him that he was driving today.

So when he pulled into the strip parking lot just as Y/n finished applying her black lip liner and red lipstick combination-Robin opened the front door of the Family Video-fully prepared to curse him out, however when she noticed Y/n sitting in the passenger seat of his car her jaw dropped. She then noticed the way that Y/n grabbed Steve by the collar of his jacket, pulling him into a kiss before shoving him away and getting out of the car.

“See ya later Pretty Boy.”

Y/n simply waved at Robin, she then made her way towards the entrance to the Arcade, a smirk on her face the entire time.

Steve however got out of the car with a dopey smile on his face, glancing in the direction of his future girlfriend while locking the doors.

When he finally headed in Robin’s direction the look of pure shock was hard to miss-so much in fact that all Steve did was shrug-the smile still on his face. Then as the two got inside and stood behind the counter-Robin practically screamed.

“Holy shit! Your neck! Wait are you wearing yesterday’s clothes-oh my god you are-oh my god you two had sex-oh my god you drove her here? You stayed the night? Holy shit-these are like purple-she’s like a damn vampire!” Robin spoke while she poked and prodded at Steve’s neck-his eyes widening as he looked around for any reflective surface-when he came up short he walked to the back room-then into the employee restroom-eyes widening at the lipstick kiss stains on his neck accompanied by hickies.

Usually he’d be mad that a girl left marks on him-however in Y/n’s case it only made him smile, the familiar blush on his face-he was head over heels and now he finally had a date with her.

Taglist: @anxietyandtacos @dmonchld (my slutty friends)

If you’d like to be added to the Steve Harrington taglist heres the link :)

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington filth #sub!steve harrington

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yersina · 1 year

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thinking abt steve n eddie and steve just. being a gentleman? all the bells and whistles, checks all the boxes—holds the door open, flowers, etc—and like sure, some of that comes from his upbringing and his family and The Harrington Status and whatever, but it’s also super clear that steve’s just. like that. like he’s so. so painfully happy to sweep nancy off her feet at the beginning of their relationship.

and like, the thing is. nancy doesn’t like that. i mean sure, she can be as charmed by it as the next girl, but i don’t think she necessarily wants it. she wants more than to just be treated like a girl, she’s been chased by guys all her life, and i think where steve feels like he’s treating her special, nancy feels like she’s being put into a box that she’s not meant to be in. they just… don’t match up in that way.

but eddie. eddie, who’s been shunned all his life in different ways for different reasons. i think eddie wants that special treatment. eddie deserves to be treated with gentleness and love, god fucking damn it. and i don’t think he ever expected to get it—esp if this is the 80’s.

so i imagine that at the beginning of their relationship, when they’re still kinda feeling things out and figuring out what their dynamic is, steve tries really really hard to just. like. treat eddie like one of the guys?? to make it obvious that eddie isn’t just some girl to him? that he knows that eddie’s different, and not just bc he’s a guy, and steve’s not just abt to pretend to ignore that. but steve’s relationship skills start and end with high school girls, so sooner or later i imagine that his romantic gestures have to turn to candle-lit dinners and chocolate and roses at some point.

and he’s kinda expecting eddie to poke fun at it or make fun of ‘king steve’ for thinking that he could… could woo eddie with a fucking bouquet of tiger lilies (that he bought bc he passed a florist and the flowers reminded him of eddie, alright?) all bc some wannabe prom queen would’ve eaten that shit up w a spoon. and eddie wouldn’t, probably. it’s exactly smth eddie would’ve made fun of him for when they were both in school. which is to say: steve almost aborts the whole thing and tosses the flowers in the trash and—he has a lot of second thoughts, okay? but then eddie is already coming out of the wheeler’s house, dnd materials packed away in the bag over his shoulder, and he’s already spotted the flowers and well, it’s too late now.

which actually works out, bc eddie seems to… like the flowers? he doesn’t exactly swoon like a victorian maiden, but he does blush a bit and smile and knock his shoulder into steve’s before he claims shotgun, much to dustin’s dismay. and when steve’s over at eddie’s place a few days later, they’re in a glass of water (literal drinking glass, maybe a mug, bc eddie munson sure as hell doesn’t own any vases) and, yknow, kinda wilted but still hanging in there, adding a pop of color to the place from the center of eddie’s dining table.

and steve doesn’t exactly have a lightbulb moment at that point, it’s not quite enough to spark the realization, but it does open the floodgates for more ‘traditionally’ romantic gestures. at one point steve opens a car door for him and eddie’s so confused but by god he loves it.

y’all. i just want eddie to be cradled w care and affection like he deserves.

#sina rambles #stranger things #steddie #i am having so much stranger things brain rot rn #i have no idea what timeline or universe this takes place in #steve standing outside eddie’s window w a boombox.. eddie insulting steve’s music taste…. they’re in love </3

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ladykailitha · 6 days

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Paper Hearts Part 1

Remember how my posting schedule was going to be based on strictly vibes from now on? Yeah this is why. I have three chapters of this completed and only two of most everything else because I hurt my right wrist on Wednesday evening (I think I overextended my elbow and it fucked up the tendons in my wrist, because I've done that before on my arm and it feels like that).

So instead of getting more work done on stuff that is literally paragraphs away from the end of the chapter I'm having to tap into my backlog. Which is what it's for. But it is annoying.

I am also aware it's nearly May, but my muse was never one for sense.

Summary: Hawkins High is selling paper hearts to help raise for senior prom. $3 for red romantic hearts and $1 for pink friendship hearts. Steve hasn't dated anyone since the horrific breakup with Nancy on Halloween and so he decides that he's going to send pink hearts to senior girls who wouldn't normally get any hearts at all. When Eddie hears about this he can't help be intrigued. It goes against his very well curated Munson Doctrine. But as events keep throwing them together, Eddie learns there is more to King Steve then meets the eye.

Also a note: the use of the other's last name when it's their point of view is deliberate. As they get to know each other more, the more first names get used.

****

Steve was staring at the huge sign with a sense of dread. In big pink and white letters on a red background screamed the words:

PAPER HEARTS FOR YOUR VALENTINE $1 FOR PINK FRIENDSHIP HEARTS $3 FOR RED ROMANTIC HEARTS ALL PROCEEDS GO TO CLASS OF 1985 SENIOR BALL

Valentine’s Day. That time of year for lovers and romantics. That used to be him. But not since Nancy broke his heart by breaking up with him for Jonathan Byers.

There would be no paper hearts in locker this year. Not even pink ones. Nancy had well and truly blown up his life and she got to walk away scott free.

He didn’t know what to do anymore. He pinched his nosed and rubbed the end. He wasn’t going to cry in the middle of the fucking main hall of Hawkins High.

Just before he was about to start moving again someone shoulder checked him, sending back to the floor and all his stuff sprawling around it like some fucked flower.

“Watch it, Harrington!” the voice growled as whoever it was sped off down the hall.

Steve didn’t even bother looking to see who it was. It could have been anyone these days. His former friends. Billy and his ilk. Hell, even the nerds and geeks got in on the action lately.

He knelt down to start cleaning it up when someone else kicked his books toward the lockers. He managed to get most of it picked up when he reached for the last notebook. Someone stepped on his hand and ground down, hurting Steve and ripping the cover off the notebook, crinkling the first couple of pages.

He shoved it into his bag and cradled his hand to his chest. He looked at his watch and sighed. Lunch was nearly over and he hadn’t even made it to the cafeteria yet.

There was nothing for it, he had to get to his next class. He walked into the class room just as the bell rang, but instead of heading for his usual spot near the front he made for the back of the class. There were always a few empty seats around Munson. The guy was terrifying on a good day.

And Steve hoped it was a good day.

****

Eddie made to class on time by the skin of his teeth. He slid through door just as the bell rang above his head. He was about to lope over to his usual spot in the back when he stopped dead in his tracks.

He looked up at the front at the deliberately left open seat and back at the seat next to his with a raised eyebrow. He wisely said nothing as he flopped into the torture device known as the chesk. Dair? Whatever the hell it was called where some unspeakable horror thought to combine a desk and a chair.

Eddie glanced sidelong at his new companion. The recently deposed king of Hawkins High sat slumped in his chesk, head down, just staring at its surface as if held the meaning to life the universe and everything.

Which if Harrington asked him, he would have been told forty-two.

He pulled out his notebook and noticed that Harrington did not do the same. Curiouser and curiouser. He pulled out a pencil and settled in to avoid falling to sleep today.

He was taking notes and doing the assignment like he was supposed to when about half way through class the teacher called out to him.

“Mr. Harrington!” she shrieked. “If you are going to be sitting in the back, please have the decency to pay attention in class!”

A couple of kids snickered.

“You were talking about how the Fool is used to lighten the absolutely horrific scene above him of Lady Macbeth as she tries to get blood out of her gown,” he muttered, scratching his cheek with his left hand.

That was when the teacher and Eddie noticed the same thing at the same time.

Harrington was cradling his right hand to his chest.

“Mr. Harrington is there something wrong with your right hand?”

“I accidentally hurt it during lunch,” he said with wince.

The teacher tapped her foot and crossed her arms. “And why didn’t you see the nurse?”

“It happened right before class,” Harrington muttered, “and I didn’t want to be late.”

The teacher huffed and shook her head. “I will give you note for your next teacher, but you will see the nurse after class, am I understood?”

He nodded.

“Mr. Munson,” she cried out, shrill. “If you’ll share your notes with Mr. Harrington after class so he does not fall behind.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He continued to keep an eye on Harrington throughout the whole class but whenever their English teacher tried to catch him out, she would fail every time.

When the bell rang Eddie started shoving his stuff into his backpack. “You sure you even need my notes, Harrington? That was pretty impressive shit you pulled out of your ass today.”

Harrington just shrugged. “Just because I was paying attention doesn’t mean it won’t bleed out of my ears with all the algebra and chemistry stuff I have later.”

Eddie winced in sympathy. “Yeah, I hear that. What’s your locker number and I’ll just slip a copy of my notes in the slots.”

“323B.”

“They got you on a lower locker?” he asked with a grimace. “That’s jacked up. Even Mr. Super Senior here got a top locker. Does the secretary hate you or some shit?”

Again Harrington shrugged. “I’ve got to go. I’ll catch you later.”

Eddie folded his arms at looked at him. “You’re not going to the nurse’s station, are you?”

This time it was Harrington who winced.

“That’s what I thought,” he huffed. “I’m walking you to said nurse’s station because it could be broken and if you don’t get that looked at, you’ll be in more than just a world of hurt, man. You could fuck up your hand for life and you wouldn’t be able to anything in that hand ever again.”

Steve’s eyes went wide as all color drained from his face.

“Shit.”

Eddie grabbed both of their backpacks and headed for the door. “Yeah, shit.”

Harrington hurried to catch up, hand still cradled to his chest.

“How did you know that could happen to my hand?” he asked softly.

Eddie eyed him sidelong, but the kid wasn’t being an ass. In fact he would say Harrington was being earnest.

“My uncle works at the machinist plant up the road,” Eddie explained. “One of his buddies broke his hand on the machine and refused to get it looked at. Guess how well that worked?”

“Was it the plant’s fault?” Harrington asked. Eddie cocked his head to the side. “That you uncle’s friend got hurt?”

Eddie reared his head back in shock that Harrington would even ask.

“No, man,” he said shaking his head. “He was goofing off, being a dick. Uncle Wayne always said that if you knock on every door asking for the devil, one day he’s gonna answer.”

“What happens when the devil comes looking for you?” Harrington muttered to himself and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder what this kid had seen.

Because he knows haunted. And Harrington looks like he has an attic full of ghosts.

Once they got to the nurse’s station Eddie waited for him. When the other boy came out he asked how it went.

“She says it doesn’t feel broken,” he huffed. “But that if it doesn’t improve over the weekend after icing at least three times a day, to come back on Monday and she’ll order an x-ray.”

Eddie nodded. “Right. See you around, Harrington.”

He had barely turned around when Harrington called out to him. “Wait!”

Eddie turned back around to have a piece of paper shoved into his hand. “I got the nurse to excuse us both.”

And before he could even reply the other boy was tearing off down the hall as if the devil himself was chasing him.

And after that comment he’d heard, Eddie couldn’t be sure he wasn’t.

****

Steve was curled up on his bed, icing his hand, staring up at the ceiling, and wondering where the fuck his life had gone so wrong.

Okay so he could answer that one, actually. Demogorgon ate his girlfriend’s best friend while in his backyard. While him and said girlfriend were having sex for the first time.

Yeah... that was all kinds of fucked up.

He still couldn’t believe that Nancy sided with Jonathan about him taking pictures of their first time.

So now Valentine’s Day was two week away and he was dateless, friendless, and unpopular. He wished he could just be called a loner. But a loner was cool and Steve wasn’t even that anymore.

He just had to make until the end of may and then he could graduate, leaving this town in his rearview mirror for good.

Steve knew that he would have to struggle through this fucking holiday and Senior prom then it would be smooth sailing from there.

He had all this money that he would normally spend on his girlfriends, but now he didn’t even have that. He supposed he could blow it all on beer and weed and then he could enjoy the weekend for a change.

Steve sat up suddenly, the ice pack falling from his hand to hit the floor with sploosh!

Now that was an idea.

He still had one thing in the school that was nonpareil and that was gossip. In fact, it was easier to hear all the dirty little secrets because no one cared if he was standing there.

A smile spread over his face.

That could actually work. It would be a great way to spend his allowance and it would be fun.

He got up and put the ice pack back in the freezer. He couldn’t do anything about it right then but once his hand was better he would formulate his little plan.

Steve was suddenly excited for the first time since he dropped Dustin off at the middle school’s Snow Ball.

He was going to make this holiday fun even if he had to manufacture the fun himself.

****

Eddie was pissed. A little at himself, but mostly at how Harrington was being treated.

He had to sit through lunch and listen a bunch of stupid jocks brag about stomping on Harrington’s hand when he was trying to pick up his stuff off the floor in the hallway yesterday.

They had been hoping for an actual break, but the asshole thought he’d only bruised it.

The reason Eddie was a little mad at himself for this was because he was the one that had shoulder checked Harrington. He had only been trying to get the guy out of his daze. Not send his shit flying.

And then to have someone deliberately stepping on his hand. Fuck. Not even Hagan ever went that far.

Stev–Harrington didn’t deserve that kind of bullying. No one did.

But he could see the twisted sort of appeal, though. And fuck if that didn’t make his stomach turn.

To see the deposed king and want to mock that? Want to dig the hurt in as deep as he could? To drive home the lesson that popularity was fleeting and that existence was a curse?

Yeah, Eddie could see the appeal.

But he wouldn’t. He might make fun of literally everyone and everything but his own interests, but to make turn that into actual cruelty? That was were he drew the line in the sand.

He went home feeling sick to his stomach. And of course Wayne picked up on it immediately.

He jutted his chin at the chicken and rice on Eddie plate that he had only merely pushed around with his fork.

“What’s got you so twisted around the bend?”

Eddie put his fork down and hid his mouth with his clasped hands, elbows on the table.

“I fucked up today,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean for it to go as it did.”

“What did you do?”

So Eddie told him. “I wasn’t trying to hurt him, but he got hurt anyway.”

“That does sound pretty bad,” Wayne agreed. “And as you say, you were trying to help only for it to go very awry. And since you didn’t about it until after the fact you couldn’t apologize and that’s what’s eating you up inside.”

Eddie nodded around his fists, his lower lip quivering.

“You’ll just have to find a way to apologize on Monday,” Wayne said wisely.

Eddie sighed. It was the best he could do. It wasn’t as though he could call the guy up or show up at his house. The first because he didn’t have the guy’s number and the second because he’d get the cops called on him so fast by the neighbors.

It would just have to wait until Monday.

****

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

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jo-harrington · 1 year

Text

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 1)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love--some crushes at least, Babysitter Steve, No Upside Down means slightly still King Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, no smut in Part 1 but liable to be in other chapters

Note: After a very hot and fast suggestion by @shiftingtherain, this mini-series was born. And instead of working on Store Manager Verse like I wanted to, here we are. This part is a little shorter...it's the intro, sue me. Next few parts will be a tad longer.

Credit for the header partially goes to me for the design and the logistics but I was tired, so I may have borrowed gifs from @emziess and Netflix itself as a jumping off point (with permission from Emzies and Netflix is a corporation so they can rot). I can only do so much guys, I also had to write this thing too.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

If Eddie never saw Steve Harrington again in his life, it would still be too soon.

He didn't always indulge in rentals from Family Video—if it was too cold and wet to have band practice in Gareth's garage, or if he was having an especially bad week at school, or if he needed something a little more realistic than the illustrations of Heavy Metal magazine to help him satisfy his needs—but today just had that special feel to it.

He'd gotten a B on his math test, Rick had been feeling a little under the weather and let Eddie make the rounds to his usuals for a sweet little cut, and he had found a dusty old book about alchemy and occultism at the library that was going to help him put the finishing touches on tomorrow night's Hellfire session.

For all of that, Eddie thought a little reward was in order.

A little Dark Crystal, a little pizza from Lou's, a little weed...he'd be having the best Thursday night.

Except...

For the past twenty minutes, he'd pretended to hem and haw over the selection of movies just so he could glare across the store at the counter, where Steve stood, flirting and making grandiose promises, with you.

He burned with jealousy, and God, it took almost everything in him not to gag as Steve reached across the counter to slyly hold your hand. And everything else for his heart not to break as you just let it happen.

Eddie didn't know how or when or why this started—when Harrington had gotten his claws into you and how he had managed to charm his way into your heart—when it should have been Eddie instead.

Eddie'd had a crush on you for years but had always been too nervous to do anything about it.

You were a year younger than him, and friends with his pal Mickey's younger sister, so he'd seen you around quite a bit. Smart and funny and pretty; maybe not as unpopular as Eddie was, but certainly not in the running for homecoming court or whatever other social hierarchies were in place at Hawkins High either. He figured...you know, maybe once he got to senior year he'd get the courage. Maybe take you to prom or something; who wouldn't want to go out with a senior?

But he'd gotten the notice from Higgins that he wouldn't be graduating with the rest of the Class of '84 and it really put a damper on his plans.

He had been hopeful again the following year, actually had a few classes with you and sat with you for partner work when no one else wanted to work with him, when they laughed at him. You weren't even afraid to go up to him in the cafeteria to ask a question, or walk with him in the hall if you had to go in the same direction for your next class. You'd talk about assignments mostly, but he savored every little fact he could learn about you. What books you'd been reading, the fact that you watched Svengoolie on Saturday nights—just like he did—or that you'd had some squabble with Mickey's sister over a scrunchie of all things and were no longer speaking.

But Eddie knew how bad his grades were—somehow even worse than the year before—and aside from the work you did with him, he knew it wasn't gonna be enough for him to graduate. So he wasn't gonna put himself in the position for you to laugh in his face—not that you would but...just in case you did—by asking you out.

He thought you would disappear from his life after you graduated. Get the hell out of Hawkins the way everyone else wanted to. But no. You took a few classes at the community college and worked the dinner shift at Benny's a few nights a week. You'd been there every Tuesday night, when he and the guys grabbed food after their gig at the Hideout. The usual booth reserved, drinks already poured by the time they sat down, and their usual orders already written in your little order pad.

You usually gave him extra whipped cream on his slice of cherry pie too.

The guys always urged him to ask for your number...but he never did. How could he? Even if you were stuck in this town the same way he was...he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

And now...here you were, listening to Harrington talk about some great surprise he had planned for your third date the next day.

Eddie wondered why you hadn't screamed in outrage when Steve mentioned how much Nancy Wheeler had liked it when he took her to this mystery place. He would have definitely expected you to at least flinch at the mention of his ex-girlfriend's name.

"It sounds really great," you said instead, smiling and nodding. "I get out of class at 3 on Fridays...should I be here around 4?"

"4 is perfect, honey," Steve grinned.

Eddie couldn't stand to hear whatever sickeningly sweet goodbye you both would come up with so he just grabbed whatever tape was in front of him and approached the counter. You and Steve both flinched when Eddie slammed his selections down on the counter to be checked out.

“Uh…I’ll see you tomorrow then. Bye Steve,” you muttered, eyeing Eddie with a half-smile that felt a bit sad. “Bye Eddie.”

"Bye honey."

“Bye honey,” Eddie mocked once you were out the door, then turned back to Steve. “You gonna try and make goo goo eyes at me next Harrington? I don’t have all day.”

“Jesus Munson. What’s up your ass?” Steve scoffed, grabbing the tapes.

“I’m just trying to get my videos and go.” Eddie rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Not really interested in the kind of customer service you're trying to provide."

Steve wondered what the likelihood of getting fired would be, if he just punched that smug look right off of Munson's face.

Keith hated the guy too, he always left the Adult section looking like a mess. Maybe Steve would get a promotion instead.

For years Eddie roamed around Hawkins being a general menace with his gaggle of friends. Causing trouble, shouting at people, making faces at old ladies. He’d gotten “taken in” to the police station one too many times but always seemed to make it out without actually being arrested. Which baffled Steve; Eddie was a drug dealer for crying out loud.

And yeah, Steve had even asked him to come and deal at a party or two but…people like that were bad. Simple as that.

Even after all of that, after you got past the “bad boy” persona….he was a fucking nerd. He wasn’t even cool like the bad boys in movies were. Steve felt like someone was tricking him the first time he had walked past the Hellfire Club’s table in the cafeteria. For all the leather and chains and band tees—all the talk of satanic rituals and blood sacrifices—there was sure a lot of talk about elves and…and bards and Star Wars.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise to Steve that the kids would flock to Eddie by the time they made it to Hawkins High.

But it had been. A huge shock.

His unexpected little gaggle of morons…weren’t really his anymore.

Steve had dropped Dustin off on the first day of school and said “don’t get into any trouble.” Even made Robin promise to keep an eye out for him. He expected the kid to…join the mathletes or something. Get roped in with the science nerds.

But by the end of the week, the kids were all clamoring about how they would need to reschedule movie nights with Steve so they could go to Hellfire club with Eddie.

Steve couldn’t understand it. Eddie was a freak, a punk, some good for nothing…and now the kids were suddenly following him like he was some sort of prophet. Spreading the word of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

See? Steve could do the nerd talk too when he wanted...thanks to Dustin.

Who, much to Steve's annoyance, was apparently Eddie's biggest fan. The guy could do no wrong in Dustin's eyes, and it really irked Steve.

Will and Lucas were spending Saturdays at the library—not for homework, but for research because apparently Eddie really liked incorporating mythology into his campaigns. (Whatever that meant.) Mike was growing his hair out because "Eddie's hair was cool.” What about Steve, whose literal nickname was The Hair? Shit, he'd even seen Eddie give Max a ride to school on a few occasions when he was late dropping Robin off. And he knew Max and her mom had been having a hard time since her step-dad skipped town and Billy...

Steve knew some of the town gossip about Eddie was just a bunch of bullshit...but if Max Mayfield was cool with him?

Yeah, he just couldn't help but be suspicious of the guy.

Regardless, the sooner Steve could get him out of the store, the better his night was gonna get.

...actually...

"That's gonna be $10." Steve announced dryly.

"Woah, $10?!" Eddie scoffed. "I have a membership."

"Since when?" Steve asked, hands immediately landing on his hips.

"I use one every time I'm in here."

"Yeah you use Reefer Rick's."

"So?"

"New policy," Steve lied, hoping it would get Eddie out of his hair for a good while. "No sharing memberships outside of your family. Last I checked, your last name isn't Lipton. So you either cough up the $25 for a new membership Munson, or the $10 for your rental. What's it gonna be?"

Eddie grumbled and dug his wallet out of his pocket, slamming the money on the counter.

"Any candy?" Steve asked mockingly before grabbing the cash.

Eddie grabbed the tape and grumbled under his breath as he exited the store.

Yeah, Steve wasn't gonna be dealing with him any time soon.

For a second though, as he went to start processing returns, he wondered...

If Eddie was in some ritualistic cult...what kind of curse could he possibly put on me?

But that was a dumb thought to have.

Eddie's night just went down hill from the minute he left Family Video.

He didn't notice that they'd given him the wrong pizza at Lou's so now he was stuck with some specialty veggie pie with broccoli on it, the tape he had grabbed indiscriminately had been some artsy foreign romance crap, and just now he'd just spilled Dr. Pepper all over his Hellfire notebook.

"Fuck," he shouted as it spilled over the side of the coffee table and onto his sock-clad feet. He couldn't give a shit about the carpet, he could even ignore his wet socks, but his notebook. Weeks of work, planning and toiling over the most sadistic campaign.

He liked to keep all of the notes of Hellfire's completed campaigns, a sort of...record for future kids to look back on and reference. And now this specific masterpiece would be lost to memory.

He cleaned everything up as best he could before making a quick trip back to his room for an extra notebook or something he could use to salvage his plans for tomorrow's session. He had always been really bad at...keeping spare notebooks on hand. Even the ones he'd used for class always ended up covered in his drawings or notes, little bits and ideas of dialogue he could use for speeches or NPCs.

The best he could find was his math notebook from last year which, surprisingly, sat relatively untouched.

Eddie knew why: that was a class he shared with you. And as he opened to some random mostly-empty page, he saw his little scribbles in the margins surrounding half-faded, penciled-in algebraic equations. Daggers and hearts and his and your initials intertwined together.

It was the one class where he would never encounter partner work with you, so he felt compelled to fill the pages with his daydreams instead of fantasies and lore. You would never see it.

"Well," he huffed as he dropped back down onto the floor and slapped the notebook onto the coffee table. He grabbed his pen and scribbled over the drawings on the page. "Now that she's with Harrington, no use living in this fantasy. Fuck, I was stupid, so stupid to ever think she would want anything to do with me."

He grabbed the dusty old alchemical book from the library and found his place, staring at old sigils and runes and text indiscriminately until he came upon one that looked too perfect for the campaign. Concentric circles, arcane lettering, angular lines...

While Eddie would usually use a clean page for something like this—something he would hand off to his players—he drew a copy of the sigil onto the page and planned to rip the edges off, maybe singe them with his lighter to make it look more authentic.

He kept staring at the still-noticeable doodles beneath the pen scribbles and his heart ached a little in his chest.

Yeah, he would definitely want to burn those too.

By the time he was done copying the sigil, a wave of exhaustion overtook him and he glanced down at his watch.

It wasn't much later than he usually went to bed on a weeknight...

He stared at the half-ruined notes for tomorrow's session that he still needed to rewrite and sighed.

"Fuck it, I'll just redo them in the morning." He got up and stretched his arms over his head. "I can just sleep in tomorrow. Skip class. Show up for Hellfire. Who cares anymore.”

He put the rest of the pizza in the fridge for Wayne and then headed to bed, only to be plagued with dreams of scribbled out love hearts, movie theater candy, guitar solos, and big red gum.

When Eddie woke up the next morning, he felt...honestly felt like he was floating on a cloud. Every muscle in his body felt looser, yet somehow tighter at the same time. His skin felt tighter, like it wasn't right, like it didn't fit somehow, it was suffocating him.

He must have died but he wasn't quite sure if this was heaven or hell.

His eyes burned and blurred slightly as he opened them and what he saw was...unexpected.

Gone were the off-white walls, his posters, the piles of his crap, and that concerning patch of probably-mold in the corner of the ceiling. Instead there was a sturdy ceiling, plaid-papered walls, and matching curtains?

Eddie groaned and rolled over.

What the fuck was this place?

There was a slam of a door somewhere that practically shook the walls surrounding Eddie and as he sat up, he found himself only wearing...briefs? He didn't wear briefs.

This wasn’t his bed, wasn’t his room…wasn’t his… body?

He looked down at his chest, his arms, his hands…his fingers weren’t right, he didn’t have this many freckles and moles, he didn’t have…abs, if that’s what you could call the slight definition on his torso. Still it was more than his body had ever had. His skin…was itchy and mostly hairless.

Eddie reached up and touches his hair—shorter than he was used to, not curly…at all—then his face, as if that was any indicator to what he—

“A mirror!” He exclaimed. His voice…sounded familiar, but different. Fuck what kind of dream was this?

Because it had to be a dream right? It had to be. How else did he wake up in someone else’s body?

He pushed himself out of the bed, walking slightly off-cadence, which…yeah probably came with the territory of your brain needing to get used to a new body. Fuck…was his brain even his brain or did his mind just get transported what was happening?

Ugh it was too early to think about that.

Eddie slowly cracked the bedroom door open and peaked into the rest of the house. He spotted a bathroom just across the way, otherwise…shit, this place actually looked a little familiar. Where the fuck was he? Who the fuck was he?

He quickly crossed the landing into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He heaved a breath and leaned back against the door for a moment to calm himself; his hands were shaking and felt cold. Could he even feel his fingers? Nice to know the occasional nervousness that snuck up on him at his lowest moments hadn’t been left behind in his old body, that they’d followed him to this one.

His body…would it still be in his bed? What if he really had died and…had jumped into his new body? Was this reincarnation?

Fuck, if he was dead…Wayne would find him. Could he even…see his uncle again? How could he ever explain who he was?

Eddie felt the tears prick his eyes and his throat tighten and he slapped his face a few times.

“Come on man, come on,” he muttered. “It’s not that bad. It’s only…mildly awful. Fuck, ok. Just go, just look, just…rip it off like a bandaid.”

Eddie took a deep breath and nodded, then crossed the short distance to stand in front of the sink. He stared at his new feet, wiggled his new toes. You never…appreciated the toes you had until you have new ones.

That was awful and you’re an idiot. Just look.

Eddie closed his eyes again and turned his face up towards the mirror. He could do it. He would do it.

He opened his eyes.

“Jesus H. Christ!”

Steve woke up feeling like absolute shit. Everything ached—like he had pulled a muscle or something by sleeping crookedly—he had awful cottonmouth, and he had inhaled…some yarn or something because he woke up coughing and gagging until he got the intrusive strands out of his mouth.

“Gahh, shit, shit,” he said and scratched at his throat. He sounded hoarse. Ugh was he getting sick? He’d have to ask his mom to bring home some soup or something.

Could he call out of work? Shit he had to take Robin to school. She could walk today, he felt awful.

Steve blinked his eyes open and took in the unfamiliar popcorn ceiling with growing concern.

He looked around at the…piles of garbage and the cracks in the plaster walls partially covered by band posters...and felt the rise of panic grow within him. He tried to recall the night before.

He’d wrapped up his shift at Family Video, gone home and had a rare dinner with both of his parents, then…felt extremely tired and went to bed.

So how did he end up here…wherever here was?

This was a kidnapping; it had to be. He was…drugged—explained the cottonmouth—and kidnapped. And now someone was holding him for ransom or something to…blackmail his father? Thomas Harrington was kind of a dick sometimes, sure, but still…he was a pretty decent guy. Who would want to blackmail him?

“H-hello?” Steve called out. “Anyone there? C-can anyone hear me?”

There was some shuffling outside of the door of the room.

Thankfully Steve wasn’t tied up or anything. God, what kind of kidnappers were these? He quickly glanced around the room for a weapon of some sort and he immediately spotted...

A guitar? A few guitars actually. Man these kidnappers really liked music huh?

One was a weird shape--he'd seen some hair metal bands use guitars like that in magazines, but he'd never seen one in person--and was a mottled red color. One was just what you'd expect when someone said "electric guitar." And one was acoustic and looked like it could pack a real wallop.

Bingo.

Steve pushed himself out of the bed and immediately jumped because whatever had been in his mouth was on his shoulders now. He reached up to grab it: hair. Long, wavy, messy...knotty and frizzy. Like it hadn't been brushed for days, maybe weeks?

And his arm, sticking out from whatever t-shirt he'd been put in...was lithe and weak and there were tattoos. On both arms. A creepy claw hand and a bunch of bats.

What was this? How long had they held him hostage for? No wonder they didn't feel the need to tie him up! He'd been knocked out cold.

He needed to get out of here. Now. He needed to get home.

Steve crossed the room to grab the guitar when he noticed it. At first he thought it was another person. But no, it was just a mirror...and in the mirror...his reflection.

Only it wasn't...his reflection.

It had startled him and he had jumped. Then he moved his arms a little and watched the figure in the mirror mimic him. Over and over.

A wave, a turn, a funny face.

He couldn’t believe it. This had to be a joke. A dream. A nightmare.

Because it was him, his reflection. But it was not his—Steve Harrington’s—reflection.

It was Eddie Munson's.

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson stranger things #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington stranger things #Eddie and steve #stranger things fic #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #Steve Harrington imagine

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weird-an · 9 months

Text

When Jim comes home, he notices something is wrong instantly.

Billy sits on the couch, clutching a pillow to his chest and watches a rerun of The Young And The Restless. He's chewing on his lips and doesn't say hello.

"What's going on?" he asks, trying not to sound as unsure as he feels. Billy has been living with him for three months. He doesn't know shit about what he's doing half of the time and if the kid even likes living with him - but at least he feels comfortable enough to watch soaps when they are both hungover.

"Nothing," Billy mumbles, hugging the pillow tighter.

Jim sighs, sitting next to Billy on the couch. He tries to be patient. It's hard when the kid is looking for miserable.

"I…" He sucks in a deep breath. "Steve wants to be my friend."

Jim frowns. That doesn't sound so bad.

"Okay?"

Billy groans.

"I never had a friend." He buries his face in the pillow.

Oh.

"You'll be fine," Jim tries to assure him. Jesus fuck, he has no idea how to cheer up a teenager. He thought Billy was a popular guy with a lot of friends. "The Harrington kid seems… nice."

Billy's face is still hidden in the pillow. His curls are disheveled, sticking out in every direction.

"He's very nice," he says - most of the sentence getting swallowed by the cushion.

Jim makes a noise of agreement.

"Did you know he was captain of the swim team?" Billy hasn't moved the pillow yet.

"…no?" Why would Jim know about Steve Harrington's activities?

"And he was prom king last year." Billy sits up, face flushed.

Maybe… he isn't talking about a simple friendship? Are they best friends? It's all very confusing. Jim decides to crack open a beer and just roll with it.

"Wow," he lies. He couldn’t care less about Arthur Harrington's son, but Billy hasn't been opening up much, so he'll take what he can get.

"He's working at Family Video and I get a two for one deal…"

Jim sips his beer, listening to Billy's rambling. The kid looks happy - that's worth something.

#oblivious jim not knowing about gay people #exhausting hopper with harringrove #jim hopper & billy hargrove #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #harringrove ficlet #steve x billy

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supervillainny · 10 months

Text

Fernando

written for @steddiemicrofic July prompt ‘pool’ wc: #442 | rated: T

“Hey, it’s your birthday,” Gareth said, shrugging, and Eddie looked down at the money they’d pooled together, tip money and busking money and a crisp five from Jeff’s Gram.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie said, pinching the bridge of his nose and readying his rant, but Jeff had already swept up all of the assorted currency and was headed towards the bar with Purpose. Eddie lurched halfway to his feet, hand outstretched, but Gareth grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and shoved him back down into the booth.

“Enjoy your dance,” he said, like an order, like a threat.

It wasn’t the kind of place that Eddie came to, not ever, more used to dim lights and filthy bathroom floors than whatever the hell this rainbow-lit mirrored confection of a bar was. So he was kinda disoriented, unfamiliar with the easy exits, and before his craning got him anything useful there was a pair of absurdly high-cut sparkly shorts blocking his view.

At least any and all involuntary noises he might’ve made were drowned out by the opening notes of –

“Christ, Wham? Seriously?”

“Hey,” the dancer said, and crossed his arms over a chest that, honestly, Eddie had thought they were supposed to wax, but there was no way he was going to complain about it. He managed to tear his eyes away so he could look the guy in the face, see the ridiculous scowl that was scrunching a strangely familiar face. “Hey, Wham are the best.”

“Wham are the audio equivalent of the missionary position,” Eddie snapped back, thoughtless as he chased the thread of recognition, and then his mouth dropped open. “Wait, Harrington?”

Even in the aggressively pink light of their section of the bar, it was clear that Steve Harrington – Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington, silver-spoon sucker and Hawkins High Prom King - was blushing a fiery red, his cheeks and his neck and his chest and the tips of his ears, and somehow it was that and not the shorts that dried Eddie’s mouth out and stole all his words away.

“Never heard of him,” Harrington said through gritted teeth, and – in a blatant disregard for bar policy – curled one hand behind Eddie’s knee and tugged him closer to the edge of the booth, not stopping until Eddie was arranged to his satisfaction, turned sideways to face out towards the dancefloor, Steve standing between his spread legs.

“Wait, wasn’t his name Fernando?” Jeff asked, somewhere in another universe, and Eddie groaned for – honestly, a multitude of reasons.

“ABBA?” he said hopelessly. “Really?”

“Shut the fuck up, Munson,” Harrington said, “and enjoy your dance.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steddiemicroficjuly

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rogueddie · 7 months

Text

Soulmates Steddie Recs

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 🧵

And Death Stands So Small In The Face Of Love

writersagainstwritersblock

Soulmate AU where soulmarks don't turn until the person actually loves you, rather than upon meeting. Unturned marks are just ink until the person who loves you touches them and turns them into bright, colorful tattoos. Or a character study on Steve, the people he loves, and the people who love him.

Words : 14,514 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Find the words and talk to me

daytimedreamer

In a world where a tattoo-like mark appears on your left wrist when your soulmate is relatively close to you, Eddie Munson doesn't have one.

But he's fine with it. Completely fine. Who needs a soulmate... Right?

He has his whole life figured out already and the lack of a soulmate hasn't affected his plans at all.

That is until a mark does appear and Eddie discovers he can't run from fate.

Words : 72,470 Chapters : 11/11 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

color me in danger

SolariaLunar21

The first time Eddie remembers a major change in the color of his meter he’s 11 years old. For most of his life the bar on his wrist has sat firmly in the green sometimes on very rare occasions darkening to a green blue color. That is until that day when he’s 11 and he watches it change to yellow for the first time.

Words : 4,755 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

Your skin and bones turn into something beautiful (You know I love you so)

ChristinMKay

Steve Harrington is born with a scream on his lips and so much love in his being that his body is covered in it. An abundance of moles, freckles, and birthmarks are speckled across his skin, painting him in constellations and stardust and affection.

The nurses and doctors are congratulating Steve’s parents as they place him in the arms of his mother. They say he is blessed. Lived so many lives filled with people who loved him so much that the press of their lips against his skin had to echo through time and leave a mark.

Words : 4,209 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

so we must meet apart

leah_btw

He sometimes imagines how it would feel to be in Munson's orbit. Sometimes imagines where his words would be. Hopes they'd curl along Munson's cheek bone where Steve could brush his thumb so easily. Or in the junction between his neck and shoulder, a place where Steve could drop kisses. Or along the curve of his hip, where Steve's palm could settle.

None of it matters because Steve never says anything.

Words : 15,437 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Heart on Your Sleeve

Anonymous

Steve Harrington doesn’t know how to love right. He knows he loves his parents, but their soul marks have turned to scars on his skin. He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong. With some help, he figures out it's not his fault.

Inspired by a kink meme prompt where your soul mark appears when you realise you love someone.

Words : 22,816 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

Error Option Romance

thankyouplease

Eddie imagines that Steve Harrington probably thinks that he is real hot shit. On top of being a rich prom king, he is also an eroptomancer. A love seer. A soulseer, some people call them – someone able to see the weird magic that connects people in a predestined shit storm of a craps game. He probably thinks he’s real goddamn special. One in a million special.

It’s actually closer to one in five million, but who’s counting?

Words : 61,348 Chapters : 6/6 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Platonic with a capital "P"

fucktacles

Robin Buckley was betrayed by the universe twice in her short teenage life. Once when she was born a lesbian in a homophobic little town. Again, when it shoved Steve Harrington into her life. Worst of all, he was starting to grow on her. She might even be, gods forbid, fond of him.

Words : 8,429 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

as you bleed your deepest feelings here

hitlikehammers

“My first fucking tattoo, hell,” Eddie sniffles and sneers and neither sentiment really lands, it’s more just…devastating. “Thought about covering it up, soon as anyone would let me into a parlor. Tried to stick-and-poke it, so I couldn’t tell what it was anymore but I couldn’t even get past a single little dot, like a full inch away,” he presses Steve’s hand closer, the skin so smooth and so fucking warm; “made my,” Eddie’s voice cracks then, and sounds almost like it bleeds around the last wet whimpers that fall forth:

“Made my heart hurt.”

Fuck, but it makes Steve’s heart hurt, too.

“But it was a whole new hurt when there was you, you understand?” Steve freezes, scared for half a second until Eddie reaches for his chin and lifts his gaze, stares utter devotion and maybe a little disbelief straight into Steve’s veins just with a look that full, then Eddie licks his lips and there’s a hint of a smile that dares to breach the cloud cover.

“You made my heart kinda,” and oh, yeah, a smile: “sing.”

Words : 3,096 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #fic rec #ficrec

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poppy-metal · 2 years

Text

Punch Drunk Love!

Summary: You came back to hawkins for one thing and one thing only (or so you think), Eddie munson. Ex boyfriend, the love you left behind and never got over. You want him back. Obstacles? Damn them all.

Pairing: Eddie x reader. Steve x reader. Steddie x reader. Slight Steve x Eddie.

Word count: 18k

Cw: Toxic!reader, kinda codependent relationship dynamics, CHEATING, SMUT 18+. Poly dynamics, mean dom!eddie, soft!dom eddie, handcuffs, switch!steve. Brat!reader, facefucking, creampies, mutual masturbatiom.

A/n: s/o to @snowflakeicicles for basically cowriting this with me <3

Steve groans as their manager sets another box of movies on the counter, telling them they needed to be stocked by the end of the night or they’d be in trouble; he reflects duly on how he and Robin need to get new jobs.

He sighs as he turns towards Robin, already in the process of using a box cutter to tear the thing open.

“What if we just quit? Like totally up and left? Still think that’s an option?” He knows he’s not gonna get the answer he wants when he sees the look she’s giving him and nods, turning again before stopping in his tracks.

“Aye — wait, look,” He beckons her over, voice a whisper yell as he points outside the window, “Is that who I think it is or am I going insane?”

"Quit being a drama queen, your hair will start graying and then what would all the girls of hawkins do? Breathe a sigh of relief, probably, now that i think about it."

robins jest has no bite to it. She just loves to pick at him. The guy really did never stop complaining, you'd think he was a teenage diva and not a twenty something man.

She peeks over her magazine at his words, glancing out the doors. Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.

"That can't be them. It's a mirage."

Inside the car outside you check your pouty red lips in your compact mirror before clapping it shut, pocketing the item and looping your arm through your friends.

Your grin is big and toothy, shiny lips spreading. "I hope we see someone we know — This town hasn't changed a wink, hun, they needed us to spice it up." You bounce on your toes as you enter the store. "Lets get top gun. I miss-"

You pause when you see robin, who you just barely know and Steve harrington. So he really peaked in high-school then? You drop your friend's arm in favor of approaching your former friend and leaning your hip against the counter next to him, already smirking.

"Well, well. I see being prom king didn't do you any favors, harrington. Miss me?"

Steve has to keep himself from sputtering when he sees you, swallowing thickly. Had you gotten even prettier? That was so fucked up.

He rolls his eyes as you saunter towards him, offering a quick wave to your friend before he’s focusing his attention on the girl about to antagonize him.

“Ah, how couldn’t I? You know, my heart ached to let you go, really, I’ve been so lonely without the barrage of insults from my favorite girl.”

He says it dramatically, almost as if he was wounded, clutching his heart — before he’s raising an eyebrow, leaning forward over the counter, “What brings you back, anyway?”

You giggled at steve's dramatics, rolling your eyes and poking his chest.

"You like my insults, stevie. They always kept you humble." You dug in your purse to pull out a juicy fruit, popping one in your mouth as you held another one out to him. This had been your thing in high-school — you offering Steve your gum, or whatever treat you'd had on you.

"Here. I'm here for summer break! I was feeling homesick, ya know? Plus I've seen everything there is to see over there. What's new around here anyway?"

Steve chuckles, watching you pop the gum into your mouth and cursing himself for how his heart races.

You had always been — enchanting would probably be the right word, irritatingly beautiful a better phrase. You're easy to be infatuated with and Steve knows it, but he’d told himself a long time ago he wouldn’t be involved lest you break his heart too.

He nods as he grabs a piece, shrugging while he pops it between his lips, “Homesick for Hawkins? Seems like college is rough on you, then—“

“Oh, not much. Everyone’s still hanging out, you know, the usual — we haven’t been seeing much of Munson, though—“ He pauses before saying his next words, wary to set you off but going ahead anyway, “Fucker got a girlfriend, can you believe it? We never see him anymore.”

You pause mid chew and mid checking out steve's newly defined muscles. Where'd those come from, anyway? your gaze snaps back up to meet his, straightening up.

"Girlfriend. Eddie has a girlfriend? You know what? Don't answer that. I'll find out myself."

Images of eddies skin on yours fill your mind, late nights spent in his trailer, him teaching you how to shot gun, ditching class to kiss in the woods, his reverent brown eyes looking up at you, 'you're it for me, baby.' his words flow through you.

It wasn't your place to be enraged right now. You'd left eddie as soon as you'd gotten accepted into the college of your dreams, refusing to settle in this town, and breaking eddies heart in the process. But they had been soulmates. Sure you'd fucked around since then, but an actual relationship? Going steady? Never.

You were going to kill her. Kill whoever that bitch was and then strangle eddie munson for ever thinking he could replace you when you had always planned to come back for him. Impatient fuck. Over your dead body would be move on.

You turned sharply.

"Stevie, we'll have to talk some time, really. I just need to see something real quick."

Steve blinks, watching your entire demeanor change and realizing that maybe, just maybe, telling you that was the worst idea he’s ever had.

He knew about your and Eddie’s history — hell, everyone did, you were one of the oddest power couples their school had ever had. But when you broke up with him, Eddie was heartbroken, and Steve thought you had completely left the guy in the dust.

Which is why him getting over you seemed like a good thing. At the time.

Steve watches the two girls leave, anger nearly radiating off one of them, and he turns to Robin with his mouth slightly agape, “We should be concerned, shouldn’t we?”

She blinks.

"About what?"

The bells above the door jingle as you walk in, your sweet perfume wafting through the air as you scan the crowd. Your eyes immediately find him. You stand there for a moment just staring.

He looks so different and yet so the same. Dark clothes, dark hair, but his jaw is sharper, he stands with more confidence in his posture. He's at the bar, clearly just done with performing a set, his hair a wild mess, strands sticking to his forehead, grin wild.

your lips part and you start toward him, pausing when some blonde cretin flies in front of you and throws herself onto Eddie. Your Eddie. She squeals and you feel your eye twitch as Eddie's smile goes warm and his arms wrap around the hussy.

The girlfriend. Right. You tap your nails on the bar, loudly enough so they'll both hear and stop being disgusting.

"I see you've finally acquired rockstar groupie status, eds." your eyes flit to the girl when you say groupie. "Congratulations."

Eddie feels like he’s on top of the world. His band has finally started playing more gigs, and he’s finally starting to get noticed. Getting older has given him confidence, and his heart feels like it’s finally on the mend.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t the happiest with his girlfriend — You would always be on the back of his mind, poking at his brain like a thought he just couldn’t shake.

But you had made it clear you didn’t want him anymore, so who was he to deny you? He’d gone through a really rough patch, and so that’s why seeing you feels like he got punched in the gut.

The sight of you makes the whole world fall apart, and suddenly he’s realizing maybe he didn’t do a great job of getting over you.

He coughs, though, offering you a warm smile and a chuckle, even as his girlfriend’s grip gets tighter around him, “Ah, no, this is actually my girlfriend — Stella, Y/n, Y/n, Stella. When did you, uh — when did you get back in town?”

"So I heard."

You barely stop your eyes from rolling, waving down the bartender for a drink. With a strawberry around the rim. When he slides one to you, you turn back to the pair- gag- and pop the berry into your mouth, biting into half of it.

"I got back a few days ago. Stevie told me you got yourself a new girl. Sandra was it?" You knew it was stella. Remembered the girl from high-school as the twat who was always ogling Eddie but running the other direction whenever you'd caught her staring. So she'd made your move, huh? Bitch.

Stella sneered at you as she snuggled closer to Eddie with her leech arms and you hopped onto a barstool, crossing your legs.

"Is this what you've been doing while I was away? I wasn't here for the full set but you look really good, eddie. I remember when it was just those 5 drunks and me at your shows. Good job, babe."

Eddie’s eyes widen as he takes you in, the hand wrapped around Stella’s waist loosening ever-so-slightly the more you lean into him.

Why was he even talking to you? He should go, take Stella and go home and try to not think about the fact that he’s never truly gotten over the girl in front of him. But that’s the coward’s way out.

Stevie. God, he was going to kick Harrington’s ass next time he saw him, “Did he? I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of relationships too, babe.“

Stella glares at you from her place on Eddie’s side, and Eddie wishes he was more oblivious to it than he actually was. Stella had always asked what would happen if you came back — looks like they were going to find out.

He chuckles, a big ringed hand coming up to rub at the nape of his neck, “Well, gee, thanks — really, I'm grateful for how we’ve come up the past few months, all of us — what about you, though? Why're you back all of a sudden?”

"Are you the Hawkins border patrol? Maybe I missed the scenery. Or the people."

You say the last part with feeling, meeting eddies dark eyes head on. You move your hair to one side of your neck so the tattoo Eddie had given you your junior year together shows. It's an image of two hearts, connected together by the stem of a rose, the thorns making the hearts bleed. It was supposed to represent how intense you made each other feel. How even though you made each other bleed with want and how you couldn't be apart. No matter what.

"Do you still play D&D? I've actually gotten really good at it. I could probably play a game with you and not even cheat! I'm still chaotic evil, though."

You smile at him, your feet kicking, talking to him like no time has passed and like Stella isn't even there. To you, she isn't.

"You proud?"

“You, missing anything about this place? Sorry, but that’s the biggest bullshit i’ve ever heard."

His heart skips a beat and his words trail off when he sees the tattoo on your neck, bottom lip being pulled between his teeth. He remembers giving you that, remembers telling you it was a symbol that would stay forever, just like he would.

And he did think that. Part of him is angry, wants you to recognize that the fact that they’re not together right now isn’t his fault. But he tries to keep it together stupidly, even as the girl next to him decides to speak up.

“Oh, you play that nerd game, too? He keeps trying to get me to play it and it really doesn’t seem all that fun. He’s so cute when he’s into it, though, huh?”

Eddie’s desperately trying to steer the conversation away from this, because suddenly he’s remembering how truly chaotic evil you are and he knows that you can be a real fucking menace if you want to be.

“And, haha — yeah, ‘course i’m proud, though I doubt you don’t cheat.”

You wince at his tone, hearing the bitterness in it. Your last meeting....hadn't been sunshine and rainbows. You'd left him heartbroken and standing in the rain after a screaming match where you confessed to feeling suffocated by this town. So yeah, you guessed it was stupid to believe he'd fall for your missing this place. You'd missed him, though.

Your eyes glide to stellas with disdain. God, her voice was grating. Like chalk on a chalkboard. Screetchy. "He is, isn't he? Just the cutest."

You take a long sip from your drink, red lips wrapped around your straw more provocative than needed. You hum around the straw and kick your foot out playfully to knock against his shin. You keep your foot there, though, against his ankle. Cry about it, stella.

"Cheating isn't so bad, Eddie, I keep telling you. The sooner you come to the dark side, the better, hm? S'fun over here."

It seems that your last words are enough for Stella and she's letting out a huff, hitting Eddie’s arm with her bag before she stomps away.

“Wait, babe —“ Eddie tries to call after her, sighing as he sees her walk out the door of the bar.

He turns to you with a disappointed look on his face, doe eyes more defeated than angry. He seems like he deflates, rubbing at his temples with one hand. Why do you have to keep doing this to him?

He turns to the bartender, sighing, “Put whatever she gets on my tab. Don’t let her go overboard.”

Then he’s turning to you again, shaking his head and pointing to the door, “I’m — im going to fix — that — and then you’re going to come over later and get all the shit you left at my place, okay?”

His voice nearly cracks but he takes a deep breath, trying to stay calm, “You can’t do that shit, — god.” And then he’s running out of the bar, probably to console the crying girlfriend that had just ran out.

Your baby blue chunky boots clunked up the steps to eddie's trailer. You blew your bubblegum into a bubble as you knocked on his door, popping it as soon as it swung open to reveal the man.

You chewed the juicy fruit and smiled at him sweetly, the guilt you felt for being a cunt earlier all gone. You had a game plan now. You'd make him forgive you. "Hey, eds. M'here to 'get my shit', i think is how you put it?"

You don't wait for his reply, stepping up, knowing your proximity would make him back up, and slip inside the trailer, knowing the way to his room by heart. He still had the same posters, same guitar strung up, same bed frame. And- You smirked, walking forward and holding up his prized handcuffs with one finger.

"You still have these? So sentimental. I missed these things, you know. Who knew people in the city could be so vanilla? Tragic, honestly." You shook the cuffs at him, teasing. You were getting a kick out of frustrating him. It would make it so much better when you made him snap.

He grimaces when he opens the door to his trailer, eyes trailing over you with a tight frown pulling at his lips.

You looked perfect, of course you did — you always fucking did, and he swears it was gonna get the best of him one day. He just hoped it wouldn’t be now.

“Yes, of course, come in, make yourself at home—“ He gestures to the inside of his trailer dramatically, heaving a big sigh as he does.

He follows you throughout the place and rolls his eyes at your comments, arms crossed as his eyes trail over you, “Yeah, Stella likes em too—“ Part of him knows he shouldn’t be saying that, but he swears only you can bring out this vengeful side of him.

“Why're you doing this, huh? Why now?”

You feel your eye twitch like an insane person at the mention of eddie using these with stella, dropping the cuffs like they'd caught on fire with a disdainful look. So he wasn't going to play nice? Neither were you then.

"Isn't it obvious, eddie bear? I want you back." You say it lightly, like it's no big deal. You mean it though, wholly and truly. You move around him again to perch on his bed and cross your legs. "I missed you."

You flick your eyes around the room, almost like you're bored but really because you hate being vulnerable, even now. You wanted him back because you loved him and never stopped but there was a small part of you that feared maybe this wouldn't work. Maybe he'd break your heart this time around.

"Where's all my stuff anyway? Do you have it all in some lockbox you look back to on dark nights when you're all alone and feeling lonely. And horny."

Eddie nods, trying not to let his surprise show. Of course he knew that was the case, but he didn’t expect you to admit it so quickly.

“So what’s your game plan here, then, hm?" His voice is shaky, trying not to think back on how broken he’d felt when you left. How he truly felt like he’d never get you back, “You get to fuck up my heart, leave and come back to me when you’ve had your fill of the city? That it?”

He sees right through you, something that he knows you must realize. That’s why when he walks over to his closet, grabbing a lockbox from the top shelf and setting it in front of you on his desk, he knows the frown on your face is genuine.

“Yeah, actually, I did. Looked at it every night for the past year and cried, barely stopped — you know you can be vulnerable, you know. I see through the joking act.”

You don't like how he's acting. Sure you didn't expect a warm welcome or for him to open his arms for you immediately, but your Eddie had never been mean. Not to you. Not ever. When he sets the lockbox down you frown, scowling really. At him and at yourself. You feel the pinpricks of self hatred that you'd made him cry over you.

But you aren't giving up. "Of course you do. You always knew me so well, eddie. Better than anyone ever could. Better than anyone ever will, probably." Maybe a sentimental and honest approach will work to open him up to you. You can give a little.

Reaching towards the lockbox, you pop open the lid and peer inside, biting your lip as memories wash over you. There's your old pink camera, polaroids you'd taken of them together, some of your jewelry and other knick knacks. your favorite bandanna and one of your pale pink bras with strawberries on them.

You pick up a polaroid you'd taken a while ago of them together at the premiere for a nightmare on elm street. You turn it to him.

"I remember that night. It's when we first started dating. You took my virginity after, remember? In the back of your truck at the drive in. It was the best night of my life."

You frown. "Did you really use the handcuffs on stella, or were you saying that to hurt me?"

He simply stands there for a second, leveling you with a loaded look: eyebrows scrunched together, pouty lips set into a line and doe eyes full of all the hurt he’d buried over the past year.

But he knows that he doesn’t hate you, knows that he never could — and he also knows that it’s killing him to act like he does.

He sighs, slumping down into the chair in the corner of his room and running his hands down his face, “Yes, I remember — I thought you were actually scared of the movie but you wanted to get into my pants; I couldn’t blame you.”

He shakes his head, angry at himself for admitting this to you, “No, shes — not into that stuff. Not like you were.”

She's a lot different than you were, he thinks, visibly distraught. She's worse.

"I was scared! Its not my fault you were all hot and protective."

You almost grin when he admits the truth about stella, but hide it. You know you've got him hooked, the reminder of the past softening him. He won't take your back tonight, not that easily, not that soon, but that's not the objective anyway. Tonight, you just want to remind him of what he's missing, of what he'll continue to miss and never have with stella.

You get up until your in front of him in his chair, leaning forward until your hands grip either side of the armrests, bringing your face close to his.

"I bet she's so plain huh, your stella. I got a good look at her. Seems like the type to scrunch her nose at giving head, clutch her pearls at the thought of all the depraved shit you're into. But not me, right? No, you showed me all the wonderful things you're into, and made me love it. Tell me-"

You walk your fingers up his clothed knee. "-Does she love your body with hers the way i did?"

He knows he should be a strong man and push you off. He should tell you to get your shit and leave, to never come back into his life because all you've done for the past year has hurt him and his heart can’t take it anymore.

That is what he’d do, if he were a strong man. But the first thing Eddie Munson will tell you about himself is that he is one weak willed motherfucker, especially when it comes to the pretty girl standing in front of him.

Which is why he doesn’t push you off, only steels his jaw and turns his head so he isn’t looking directly at you, because maybe if he can act like he was fighting it at first then he won’t feel so guilty later.

“I think you know the answer to that” His voice is strained, like he’s using all of his strength just to stay still in this chair, “She doesn’t — she doesn’t like that type of stuff. And i’m not — I wouldn’t force her into it. She's …she's not like you were. Unfortunately.” aaaand, there he goes, being weak again.

You reach up and turn his jaw so he's looking at you. You don't kiss him, but it's a near thing. Fuck, You want to. You sit on his lap instead. Better.

"My poor baby." You coo with real sympathy. Okay, it's a little mean, because you're still jealous as hell he'd been with stella in ANY way. Kinky or not. "You must be itching to restrain someone to your bed and eat them out till' they cry. Know that always made you cum the hardest. When i couldn't move away from your mouth or your cock."

You stroke a hand down his chest and smile when you feel him harden under you, no doubt thinking about all the times he'd had you naked and cuffed to his bed post.

"I thought about that alot. Those city boys don't know how to fuck like you, you know? Never felt as good as it did with you."

His eyes flick down to your tits and he groans, deep from his throat — why did you insist on testing him like this?

Your mean tone has him looking at you with an unamused glare, halfway torn between angry and horny.

Still, though, his hands settle on your hips, his cock rapidly hardening as he thinks back on all the times he’d tied you up, made you take anything he gave you until you begged for a break. He remembers how pretty you looked with tears running down your face.

God, he’s so supremely fucked.

“Yeah?” His voice is shaky, fingers rubbing smooth circles into your hips, itching to grip onto the skin tyoure like he used to, “Bet they’re all vanilla as fuck, huh? Can’t make you cum like you need.”

You shiver when his fingers start to rub against your hips, your shirt riding up enough he's touching bare skin.

You try to keep your voice steady and cool. "Was so bored I nearly fell asleep everytime." You realize how equally dangerous this situation is for you, underestimating your ability to handle him touching you again. How long before his good conscience came rushing back to him and he tried in vain to refuse this again? You needed to take all you could for the moment.

"Only you can make me cum that hard, baby. Needed to come back for you so I could have it again. Don't you need it too? Need me?"

You knew he did. Felt it in the way he gripped you so hard you'd have marks there tomorrow from his rings. Just how you liked it.

"This doesn't have to be messy."

His hands keep trailing up and down your legs, getting a little closer inside each time. He’s teasing you, the cool metal of his rings probably stinging against your skin. But he knows You like it.

He’s tired of being nice, tired of being good — he could never be mean to you, no, but he could have his fair share of fun torturing you like you seemed to do with him. Again, no one brought out this side of him like you did. And he intends to make the most of it before his better mind came back.

He lets his face fall to bury in your neck, inhaling your scent in one deep breath. Fuck, how had he gone so long without it?

“But you know how much I like it messy.” His voice is almost a growl, tongue coming out from between his lips to lick a stripe up your neck to your earlobe, catching it between his teeth for a moment.

"Eddie..."

You couldn't help but grind down against him, eyes nearly rolling into your skull at how the zipper in his jeans caught against your clit through your pants. His mouth on your neck-

"Jesus, you know what that does to me- you- ah! Not playing fair."

You knew that was a stupid thing to say, like your whole reapperance in hawkins wasn't playing fair. But really, he knew what his tongue on your throat did to you. And when he took your lobe in his mouth and tugged you let out a whimper, sinking into his lap. You knew. You knew how messy he liked it, and you dug your nails into his shoulders as you rocked on his lap.

"Get messy with me then, eds. Fuck me right here, I'll make you forget all about that dumb girlfriend of yours."

He can’t help but smirk against your skin, knowing that licking you always worked like a charm. It was one of the things he loved most about you, how sensitive you were.

“Yeah? Gonna let me make a mess of you right here, angel? How fucking dirty.”

He says it condescendingly, voice honey-sweet, hips thrusting up to grind against your cunt through your pretty panties. His hand slips down to rub at your clit, the other gripping your hair to bare your neck for him.

“You want my cock so bad? Get it yourself, princess. I’m havin’ fun here.” He snarls it against your neck, biting down right into the skin of your stick and poke.

You bite your lip as he taunts you, melting into him. God, You wanted him. You wanted him to fuck your right here on his bed, the bed he'd probably taken stella to, since you'd been gone. You wanted to erase any trace of that bitch from eddies person.

You felt the toxic possessiveness and jealousy overcome you, overriding your sentimental heart and the need to just be with eddie in the moment. You felt vengeful even though you didn't have a right to be, the thought that eddie had tried to forget you, had kissed and touched someone else was driving you insane.

Pushing off his lap, you sunk to your knees, quickly unbuckling his belt and yanking it from its loops, tugging him out and giving that fat fucking cock you'd missed one long stroke. You stared up at him as you let your tongue flick over his weeping slit.

"This is mine." You kiss his pink tipped head, knowing that'd make him lost in the sensation. When he was distracted, You moved your other hand until you found your camera. You gripped the chunky item and sneakily snapped a picture of you ,unmistakable, with eddies cock splitting your lips.

He was too lost in your mouth to notice you putting the camera away, slipping the polaroid under the sheets in his mattress. Stella was the insecure type. She'd search his room at every opportunity for evidence of him with someone else. And she'd have a nice surprise when she came over later.

You moaned lewdly around eddies cock, drooling over it as you pulled off, spit connecting from your lips to his cockhead.

"Want you to cum down my throat so bad. You'll give me that, yeah? For old times sake."

He swears the entire world melts around him the second you've got your hand on his cock. He’d missed it so much, missed your slender fingers pumping him until he spilled all over your face. Or your tits. Or your cunt — wherever he felt like that day, really.

His head rolls back in a groan when you kiss his head — that’d always been a sensitive area for him, one that sent shivers down his spine. You were evil to use it, but fuck did it feel good.

“God, you look so pretty with a cock shutting you up — my cock, jesus—“ Hes moaning, hips thrusting shallowly into your mouth. He’d throat trained you for a reason.

“You gonna make me?” He says it like a challenge, the grip on your hair tight. “Make me think you deserve it.”

your cunt throbbed at his words. Eddie always had a filthy mouth, and it never failed to make you leak down your thighs. Him being rarely mean with his words was a treat too. You wondered what his reaction would be when he found out you'd just ruined his relationship. your masochistic pussy just got wetter at the thought.

"You know i can make you do anything." You preened, licking the underside of his cock like hard candy, sucking your lips lovingly down the veins on his shaft. One of your hands came up to card your fingers through the hair at his pelvis. "C'mon, eddie. Give me what i want, shoot that load you've been savin' up just for me down my throat and make me choke on it."

You also knew your filthy mouth got him as wound up as his did to you. You sealed your lips around him and eagerly sunk your mouth all the way down, until your nose was touching his bush.

As much as he hates it, your words go straight to his cock — he always liked that you had a bit of bite to you, that you never backed down when he was mean — because you knew he never meant it.

The second you take him all the way in he’s letting out a choked off moan, his eyes nearly rolling back. One big hand comes down to tangle in your hair, pressing against the back of your head to keep you there.

“Breathe, angel, yeah, through your nose like I taught you — fuck, don’t even know how much I m-missed this,” Hes rambling, the sensation of you swallowing around his cock making his brain melt.

“Think of this all the time — think of this perfect fuckin’ mouth, just made to be filled with my cock. Shit.” He cursed at the fact that he was already getting close, the tension from the night building up.

your eyes teared up as your throat spasmed around his fat cock stuffing your throat. His words made your toes curl in your boots and you started to breathe through your nose like he taught you.

your gag reflex protested but you fought through it, cheeks now stained with your tears, eyes watery and wet and eyeliner dripping all over as you peered up at him.

You used your other free hand to tug on his heavy balls, gurgling around the girth in your flexing throat as you massaged the soft flesh in your palm lovingly.

You needed his cum, would not move from this spot until you got it. Your tender throat screamed for release but that just made you widen your jaw even harder, more determined to take his hot cum straight down the closer you got to truly choking. Spit was spilling from your split lips around him, and you felt his sack tighten in your hand as his orgasm came over him.

You could have tap danced with happiness.

The sight of you peering up at him through wet, makeup drenched lashes is what sends him over the edge, hissing as he feels his balls tighten up.

His load is thick, bigger than usual — he was ashamed to admit that Stella never made him cum hard, not the way you could. Wouldn’t tell you that the reason they didn’t have sex much was because he wasn’t into her and was always thinking of you.

He grins when it spills a bit around your lips, his grip on your hair loosening even as he’s still babbling, “Shit, fuck — so fucking good, god. Fucking perfect, needed you so bad, missed you so bad. God.”

You swallow around him easily, like you were born to do it, pulling back to place a kiss on his softening head. You lick your lips of the remnants of him and smile up at him from your place on your knees.

"You needed that bad, didn't you baby?" You can see your time running out. As his labored breathing steadies, the lust in his eyes turning wide with guilt already.

You run your palms up his slack legs, your smile sad now, for a lot of reasons. Eddie thought he had a relationship to go back to after this, but he'd soon realize he didn't. Working through his reaction to that particular betrayal would be another hurtle you had to jump over, but it was necessary. He'd see it all soon, when they were together again. He always loved how insane you were.

"Feeling like a shitty boyfriend at the moment, i take it?"

As he comes down from his high, chest heaving and the adrenaline leaving his body, he feels a massive pit in his stomach when he looks down at the girl between his legs.

He can’t push you away — feels like it would be ungentlemanly to tell you to get off and out of his life after you’d just sucked the soul out of him. But he couldn’t keep doing this; he knew it.

“Sweetheart, I…” He sighs, running a hand through now slick with sweat bangs, “We never should’ve done that. I — I shouldn’t have done that. Shouldn’t have let you.”

“I’m — i’m sorry,” He has no fucking clue why he’s apologizing, just knows it’s forcing it’s way out of him, “But I can’t keep doing …this with you. It’s not fair to her. I think.. you shouldn't come back here for awhile. Not until i think things through."

You just smile serenely and nod. There wouldn't be time. You were working on your schedule, not his.

He'd find out soon.

Steve had otherwise forgotten about your…less than happy reaction to Eddie’s newfound romance, which is why the sound of someone pounding at his door has him jumping in his seat and furrowing his brows.

He swears he’s gonna cuss the kids out if they came to bother him on the one day he told them not to—oh. It isn’t them.

He’s greeted with the sight of a smiling you, already making your way inside, a bag of McDonald’s in your hand as you do.

“Um — hello? Can I ask why you’re infiltrating my house, now?” He pretends to be bothered, but the lilt in his tone betrays him.

You sigh dramatically, breezing by him and dropping your McDonald's on his kitchen counter. The thing about having rich parents was that they were rarely home.

"You can ask but I won't answer. Listen- woah. When did you learn how to dress?" You lower your blue tinted sunglasses to get a good look at him. "I mean, you are looking really, really good right now. Are you sure you're single? Still looking?"

You grin and pop a fry into your mouth, offering him one as you lounge on his plush couch and kick your feet.

"Stevie, I've done something bad, i fear. I need to clear my conscience so I can go back to being hot and uncaring."

He squints at you, perching himself on the arm of the couch as he does. You’d always come in here like you owned the place, and it’s not like his parents were ever home to care, so it became kind of routine.

He gives you a look as he grabs the fry from you, chewing it slowly. He’s looking at you like you're suspicious, which you are, and he raises a brow.

“What did you do now? Did you slit someone’s tires again? You know I can’t bail you out of that twice, right?”

He probably could, but you didn’t have to know that.

"That was one time, Steve, and they deserved it. Fuck Debra to this day."

You jab a fry at him before eating it. You wiggle your toes in your flats as you sigh, getting serious. You did feel slightly bad, not for stella, fuck her, but for the pain your actions were about to cause eddie.

"I went to see eddie. Met his new girlfriend. Stella, really? You let that happen? Anyway, he asked me to come pick up my stuff and yada yada i gave him head. The BAD part is that i may have, unbeknownst to him, taken a picture of said act and left it for dear old stella to find."

When you say it out loud it sounds really bad. You know it does. Ugh. "But it's all for the greater good! Eddie doesn't even like stella. You get it right? I mean you see why i had to?"

He holds his hands up, shaking his head.

“Fuck did you want me to do? He seemed real fuckin’ determined to get over you, so I just let him do whatever the fuck he wanted! You made it sound like you were never coming back!”

He’s content to sit there and listen, fry halfway to his mouth when you drop the bomb on him and he coughs on it, looking at you like you’ve gone insane.

“Jesus christ, you really are a psycho —“ He doesn’t want to unpack why he thinks that’s kind of (very) hot, instead sighing.

“So like, what’s the game plan now? You know he’s gonna be, like, mega pissed, right?”

"Well you shouldn't have let him! Of course i was coming back. I just needed a breather from this wacko town, full offense."

You huff and pout at his admonishment knowing he's right but always hating being scolded. He called you a brat. You called it 'dont call me out and we'll all be fine'.

"I know he'll be mad. I just really needed to get him and stella apart, the rest will just....happen, you know. Like fate."

You peer up at him with your puppy dog eyes, knowing their effect on him. He used to have a thing for you, You wonder if he still does. And if you can use it.

"Don't look at me like that, stevie. He's mine. I don't share or play fair, you know that. You've become so moral all the sudden, s'kinda hot. A little annoying, but hot."

“God, you’re such a brat, you know that? Couldn’t even let the fucker figure it out for himself?” He shakes his head, narrowing his eyes when he sees your puppy dog eyes, so round and big and — shit.

He knew how Eddie felt, he really did — Steve had always had kind of a thing for you, was really confused and pretty annoyed when you got with Eddie, but he pushed it away because you both were happy.

But he remembers the summer when you left, him and Eddie both heartbroken. They’d bonded over it and one thing led to another and — it doesn’t matter now, they never talked about it again, but for a good month or so, they used each other to forget. But it was always focused on thinking of you.

“You’re so lucky I like you, yanno that?” He groans, grabbing another fry. “You play dirty.”

Him calling you a brat made you shiver a little. Maybe you always liked it when Steve lectured you, he did get all hot when he was stern, anyway. Before eddie, you'd spent more than a few nights with your hand between your legs, thinking about him. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

"And you're lucky not to be on my bad side, harrington." You prop your feet up on the table in front of his couch, your long legs extending. "The things I'd do to you if you ever crossed me would make you shake in your loafers."

You trusted him though. He'd always been a constant in your life, even at your worst. You appreciate him even though you were terrible at showing it.

"Why do you like me, anyway? As far as besties go, robin has me beat i think."

He rolls his eyes, faking a shiver, “Oh, i’m sooo scared, the little girl’s gonna hurt me, oh nooooo.”

He can’t help but chuckle at the glare you send his way, though your question has him shrugging while he pops a nugget in his mouth.

“Eh, you and Robin are different — she's more of like, a bro, you know? We talk about girls and everything under the sun. You’re…”

He pauses, trying to figure out where he’s going with this before he keeps talking, trying not to stammer.

“We’ve been friends forever — no matter how much I want you dead sometimes, you’re always there for me. And — I mean, okay, you’re pretty easy on the eyes, can you blame me?”

You don't know why hearing that makes you so happy. Okay, yes you do. You were a possessive person and you liked knowing you had a special place in his heart just for you. It made you all fuzzy inside.

"Is this you admitting you have a crush on me, stevie?" You lean up so you're crowding in his space, grinning at him with your candy apple lipgloss shining. You like teasing him. The king of hawkins high could never handle you being this close to him.

He always pulled back. Blushed and rolled his eyes or said something snarky when you went too far and you two settled back into their routine. Even when you'd been dating eddie and were fully committed and faithful you couldn't resist pushing his buttons sometimes. He just made it so easy.

"If i wasn't so focused on eddie, I'd probably kiss you. But I don't want your pretty head on a stake, he doesn't show it outwardly, but he's the jealous type too."

You say this unaware of the current relationship between the two men. After all, the last time you'd been in hawkins they barely tolerated each other. Eddie hated how preppy your friend was and Steve hated that you were taken by the town outcast.

Steve rolls his eyes, the trademark blush spreading across his cheeks as he looks to you, but this time, he decides maybe he won’t push you off.

“And what if I said I did, hm? What then,?” He doesn’t know what had come over him, but you didn’t know how much he’d changed over the past year and a half. And he intends to let you find out.

He leans forward, eyebrow raised, the tone he speaks in almost a challenge, “Why don’t you then, hm? Can’t pretend you don’t want it.”

At the mention of Eddie he just scoffs, unable to stop the smirk that curves his lips, entirely reminiscent of the old him. The cocky one, “Wanna know a secret? I don’t think he’d care at all — in fact, I think he’d like it.”

You blink, instinctively pulling back when he pushes forward. Your eyes go doe eyed when he actually rises to your challenge. Huh, so maybe there was something to his game after all. Who'd have thought.

"I will. You're cocky now because i'm not but the second i do, you'll be lecturing me again. Don't dare me."

your eyebrows pull together at his last comment, pausing where you'd been in the process of leaning back in. He was definitely implying something with that, especially with that look on his face. Like he knew something you didn't.

"What does that mean? I mean, i know eddies bisexual but he like, detested you in high-school. Would definitely wring your neck if he knew about that super mega ultra crush you had on me."

He nearly folds at the sight of your doe eyes, knowing he’s caught you off guard — the old Steve might have been cocky, but he wouldn’t mess with someone’s girl.

But now he knew that someone was actually quite enthusiastic about the proposition.

Steve only laughs, shrugging his shoulders as he leans back against the arm of the couch, “What makes you think he doesn’t already know? That we haven’t…worked out our differences? Hm?”

He's being vague on purpose, waiting for you to take the bait and wanting to keep you on the hook. It was almost addicting to do, see the way your face changed and got so adorably confused.

"Worked out your...."

Your eyes go saucer wide, realization dawning. You feel many things at once. Shock. Jealousy. Anger. Possessiveness. Mostly You're just intrigued.

"You and eddie? Together? When? How?" You leaned forward even more eagerly, gripping onto the lapels of his jean jacket so he couldn't pull away even if he wanted to. "Tell me everything right now harrington or i swear to god, ill- ill do something crazy. You know i will."

You wanted every single detail too. Felt yourself get warm between the legs at the mere thought of your soulmate and your best friend...being intimate like that.

He laughs again when you grip onto his lapels, shaking his head and gripping your hands, lightly taking them off to place on your lap.

“Be a good girl for once and keep them there and maybe i’ll tell you everything, hm? Thank you.”

He rolls his eyes dramatically, sitting back against the couch and tapping his fingers against the arm, “What do you want me to tell you? We both missed you and got high, one thing led to another and — well, his rings feel really good when he’s jerking me off. What’s so wrong about that?”

Alright, when did steve get good at seduction? You weren't stupid. He'd been popular for a reason, You just. You'd never had it turned on you like this. It was making you feel funny.

You frowned as you realized you were actually doing as he instructed, keeping your hands on your lap as you looked at him eagerly.

Your lips parted as the image he painted went through your head. Both of the most important men in your life, high and missing you, turning to each other. Eddies hands on Steve's....

"Eddie's seen your cock?" You didn't know who you were jealous of. Eddie for touching Steve, or Steve for being touched by eddie. You squirmed in place glancing at his crotch. "No fair. Of course there's something wrong about it. I wasn't there! I can't believe you-" you blurted then paused. "You missed me? Really? Enough to....do that?"

Did they do more? Did they jerk off to pictures of you? Did they blow each other thinking about your mouth? You were going insane here. "Steve, i hate you. Im gonna kill you. Boyfriend stealer. Hussy. Let me see your dick now, its only fair."

Steve can’t stop the grin eating at his lips even as he tries to stay serious, the sight of you actually being good sending him on a power trip. It’s slightly worrying.

“Yeah, he’s seen it — done a lot with it, actually, but I feel like he should tell you that.” Steve smirks at you from his place on the couch, trying not to think about the fact that his cock is absolutely hardening through his jeans.

“Yeah. Let him fuck my mouth whenever he missed yours, let him talk about how much he loved you — honestly, super unhealthy, but it was really hot,” He’s not even rambling, specifically picking certain instances to tell you, ones he knew would rule your up.

“I’m a boyfriend stealer?! You’re the one who left! I missed you too, you know,” He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

Then he’s intrigued again, smirking as he spreads his legs and gestures to his crotch, “Take it out, then, princess. Work for it.”

The thought of eddie using steve's mouth when he missed yours is almost too much. Like a wire snaps in your brain and you're wrenching forward to unbuckle steves belt, snapping open his buttons and jerking your hand through the opening slit in his boxers, not bothering to pull him fully out, closing your eyes and letting the feel of his full and heavy cock fill your hand.

Eddie had felt this weight, had stroked and licked and jerked this cock off. You felt a little mad, glaring at steve because fuck him for one upping you and pulling the rug out from under you like that with that reveal.

"Oh, you missed me, huh." You gripped the hard length in your hand tight, almost punishingly. "It was about me, huh? Sure you didn't just like how pretty my boyfriend looked, stevie? Kinda starting to wonder why i even bothered to come back."

You stroked up once and paused, squeezing again. "Do you even really like me or are you just a slut for any pretty face with big big eyes? Be honest."

He’ll admit he doesn’t expect you to just — go for it and pull his cock out, a long groan falling past his lips while his hips buck up to meet your touch.

Fuck. You really didn’t hold back; he breathes deeply, through his nose in a way that makes him calm, while he tries not to bust in your hand immediately.

This is what he and Eddie had talked about for countless nights, and Steve thought he’d never get to actually feel it, and now it was actually happening — fuck.

“Yes, it was about you, you fucking — god, you brat,” He groans, a hand combing through his hair as he thrusts his hips tentatively, “M’not a — fuck, not a slut. S’not my fault he’s stupidly fucking pretty. And horny.”

"M'not a brat. And you are a slut. Both of you are- I'll take care of eddie later but you-"

You stroke your hand back down to his thick base, feeling the veins in his cock literally pulse in your hand. Eddie was thick and fat, but Steve was long and girthy. You felt your hand settle against the mess of hair at his pelvis as you gripped him, barely fitting your hand around him.

"-Need to deal with you being naughty first. Didn't know you had it in you to be such a harlot, harrington. Letting my eddie use your mouth like it was my pussy. Did you talk about that, too? Did eddie tell you about how tight and wet i am?"

Steve was so pretty really. In a soft kind of way, the baby fat around his face had never really gone away and it made his expression soft and sweet as he blushed. His styled hair was a mess from his hand running through it, and you shoved your free hand up his shirt to drag it up his stomach, salivating at his bare skin, his hairy chest.

"Such slutty boys. What am i gonna do with you, huh? Am i supposed to let you cum after you went behind my back like that? Tell me what im supposed to do. Hm?"

Steve groans again, this time at how pretty your manicured fingers look barely being able to wrap around his dick. He wishes your words didn’t go straight to his twitching cock.

He let’s out a choked moan, pre-cum beading on his tip now, “I’m — fuck, we didn’t go behind your back! We just — we both missed you so much, and I wanted to know what you felt like, even if it was — shit, through him.”

He groans again, eyes focused down on you. He feels dizzy, and he thinks back to when Eddie would tell him you were insane in bed — in a hot way. He sees it now.

“I — I think you should let me cum. I’ve — fuck, i’ve been wishing for it for so long, only feels — hah — fair.”

"Hmm."

You pretend to contemplate his pleas as you lazily work his cock. your other hand idly runs through the hair on his chest, flicking over one of his dusty nipples just to feel him jerk in your fist. "I can feel you leaking all over my hand, you know? Messy and slutty. Are you sure you haven't cum already? No? Well I've gotten kind of bored so....."

You release his dick with a smile, even though inside you mourn the loss of him in your hand. You want him. Bad. In your mouth. In your cunt. But you're still pissed. You won't admit it's mostly at yourself, though. You wanted to be there, between them. Instead you'd been states away.

You lean back against his couch, bringing one of your legs up and pressing your foot into his chest. "Stay there."

You slide a hand down your skirt, scrunching it up until your lace blue panties are in view.

"You don't mind, do you? You can't put those kinds of thoughts in my head. I have to make myself cum now, all over your couch. You can watch, but don't touch. Slutty boys don't get to touch me."

He doesn’t know why he’s not just using his strength to take what he wants — he knows he could, could easily overpower you and you’d probably like it.

But this is — fun, oddly, something he didn’t realize he’d like. With all the other girls he’d been with he had to play the overly dominant, masculine role, which he didn’t mind, all things considered.

But with you it’s different, something about letting you think you have control getting him hot under the collar. You know him, his tendencies, his true self. It makes him more comfortable.

He swears he’s salivating when he sees your panties, swallowing thickly.

“You’re — fuck, baby, you’re kidding, right? Let me — fuck, let me touch myself too, please? Need it real bad.”

You tugs the lace to the side, running your finger up your wet slit until you circle your tight little bud.

Your foot presses harder into Steve's chest. He's solid muscle there and it annoys the fuck out of you. He's so buff he could literally toss your thighs apart like a ragdoll and shove his cock between your legs before you could even blink. But he won't.

"I don't know....my feelings are hurt, stevie. My two favorite men in the world, having each other while I had no one. S'kinda mean, don't you think? How would you make it up to me?"

You pant as you sink a finger into your hole, your walls milking around your digit eagerly. He looks so hot, panting over there like a dog in heat at the sight of you playing with your pussy. You feel slick drip down your thighs, definitely gonna leave a wet spot on his couch, you think.

"Touch yourself. Stroke that big cock and tell me how you'd make it up to her-" You plunge your finger deeper, the sticky squelch filling the room. "-My cunt. Tell me how you'd make her forgive you."

He lets out a huff, settling back against the couch and wondering why in the hell he’s letting you do this.

“How would I — you w-werent even here! You chose to leave, we were just —“ He lets out a deep breath, “Honoring your memory. Yknow?”

His cock is hot and hard when he finally grabs it, mouth agape while he watches you fuck yourself. He wishes it was him.

“Wanna—“ He’s trying not to stammer, even though suddenly his mouth feels much drier than normal. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, soft moans slipping past his lips as he strokes his cock, “Wanna rub the head over your pretty clit, wanna fuck you so deep you cry, wanna — shit — wanna paint your insides white, cum on you and smear it i-in.”

You shake your head, refusing to talk more about it. It would only end up making you actually upset. And you couldn't admit to Steve you were only so angry because you missed them both so much and felt so guilty for leaving it hurt that they had each other without you. Even if it was also kinda hot.

"Whatever. Shut up and jerk off."

Your cunt clenches around your fingers at his stream of dirty talk, your eyes hazy as you watch his hand move over his cock. Lips parted and clit throbbing as you humped down onto your hand, whining loudly, unable to help yourself.

"Of course you wanna make me cry. Always bullyin you', bet you wanna- wanna take it out on my cunt. I-i'd let you, maybe. You're so easy to push around i don't know if you can- can take what you want."

God, this is getting you so hot. You're soaking your hand, struggling to keep your eyes open so You can see when steve paints his chest with cum. You feel your hole clench and gasp as you cum, shaking through it, pussy convulsing around your thrusting fingers, slippery with the rush of slick.

"Oh god- S-steve, fuck. Feels so good. Wanna see you cum. Do it, do it now."

Didnt have to tell him twice. He’s groaning as he fucks into his hand, bringing it up to spit into the palm before he’s fucking his cock into his fist again, the sounds wet and lewd.

“Y-yeah? Shouldn’t test me, you know — just ‘cause I like bein’ pushed around sometimes doesn’t mean I won’t — fuck, doesn’t mean I won’t tear that little cunt apart.”

Hes embarrassed by how quickly he’s going to cum, but you're so fucking hot and getting him so hot that he can’t help it. He reaches another hand down to fondle his balls and that’s what pushes him over the edge.

The loud groan that comes from his throat is choked, eyes trained on your pretty cunt and how you look so hot when you cum. He gets an idea suddenly and points his cock down and, instead of at his chest, his cum sprays against your pussy. He moans at how each spurt coats your folds white.

“F-fuck, knew You’d look so pretty covered in cum. God.”

You giggle dazedly as you smear the sticky white fluid into your cunt. The rush overtaking you, as you sag against his cushions. You blink up at the ceiling, biting your lip suddenly.

What does this mean for you and eddie?

He’s angry. No, he’s so beyond fucking angry — what the fuck was your deal?

Eddie swore to god he’d had his entire room torn apart by the time he woke up, an angry Stella screaming at him while she'd stood in one of his shirts.

Itd taken him a second to actually wake up to see what she was yelling about, and by the time he’d woken up enough to figure it out she was already gone, telling him to go fuck himself and that they were over.

He grimaced, eyes flicking to the object of all this anger and tilting his head when it finally came into view, eyes narrowing.

That sneaky little minx.

He quickly got up and grabbed a few things from his room, stuffing them in his bag and shaking his head as he stormed to his van, slamming every door that was in his way.

It's like he gets there in a flash, peeling into your driveway and using the old key he’d locked away to get into your house. Your parents weren’t home, they never were, which makes it easy for him to stomp up to your room, boots heavy and loud on your stairs.

He slams your door open, eyes narrowing as he shoves the picture you’d hidden in your face, his chest heaving with all of his anger, “Are you fucking insane? What the fuck is this? Quickly.”

You'd been in your room laying on your stomach on your bed, kicking your feet as you flipped through a magazine. The slam of your house door and the subsequent thundering footsteps had you rising to your knees in surprise, eyes wide when your door flung open to reveal eddie.

You thought you'd seen him angry before. You'd been wrong. You actually felt fear for a split second as he stormed to you, before he was thrusting the picture in your face and you realized why he was here. You relaxed a little.

"Oh, that." You pretended to look at it like you didn't already know what was exactly on it, getting up and walking to your large vanity to check your hair. You were actually nervous, but you were attempting to hide it with sarcasm. "You were there, eddie, i think you know what it is."

You turned to face him with your hip rested against your vanity, tube of watermelon lip gloss in hand. "Or is it the concept of a blowjob you're confused about?" You calmly applied a layer of gloss against your lips, capping the tube with a loud 'snick' in the deadly silence of the room.

"Funny considering you'd been getting quite a few of those from Steve, i hear. What's one more from me?"

Eddie blinks, chest still heaving as he considers you. You were trying to get under his skin, clearly, and if he was stronger, he wouldn’t let it affect him.

It's been established that Eddie Munson is not a strong man, though, and his cheeks flare as a renewed sense of irritation flows through him. Harrington told you; of fucking course.

“Whatever I do with Steve — or anyone, quite frankly, is none of your fucking business, sweetheart, because as I understand it, you. left. me.” He punctuates his words with steps towards you, relishing in the fact that you're caged against your vanity now.

He peers down at you, making it so you have to crane your neck to see him. He feels powerful. It’s almost addicting.

“What’s your game plan now, huh? Stella's gone, wants nothing to do with me. So what’s your big plan? Or did you not fucking think beyond fucking me over?”

Your mouth twists, not liking him bringing up the fact that he doesn't belong to you. He would soon.

"Wrong. Everything you do is my business. Always has been, always will be."

You falter just slightly as he corners you, your back digging into your vanity. You feel trapped in a way you're not used to feeling. And you can sense how unhinged he's feeling now.

"My game plan....Stella was just collateral damage, eddie. My game plan has always been to come back to you. I was never gonna be gone forever."

You soften your voice and your eyes, leaning up to wrap your arms around your neck. "We can be together now. Just like old times, yeah?"

You hadn't planned on having this confrontation now. You would have planned better if you knew. Most importantly, you'd have made sure the cum soaked, ruined panties you'd left with at steves weren't hanging on the chair of your vanity. It wasn't like you even planned to do that with steve. It was just the heat of the moment. But for some reason you hadn't wanted to wash them immediately, so you left them there as a dirty reminder for awhile.

You register the moment eddie sees them and feel all your confidence slip away. Oh no.

He’s seething, he swears he is. Every breath he takes is labored, like he’s holding himself back from doing something — what, he doesn’t know.

But it’s evident it’s not going away anytime soon when his eyes flick to the chair next to them and he sees cum ruined panties —male, cum ruined panties, not something you could do on your own. And he has an inkling of whose cum it could be.

He grips your arms and unhooks them from his neck, sets them at your side and gives you a scathing look, like he dares you to try again. You don't.

He reaches out to hook the wet piece of fabric around his finger, bringing it over to hold in front of your face and raises his eyebrows.

“Fuck is this, then, hm?” His tone is clipped, short, reminiscent of the calm before an intense storm, “I do encourage you to be honest with me, so let me rephrase — whose cum is this? If everything i do is your business, everything you do is mine.”

It's strange to feel powerless. You'd felt in control every step of the way since your return to hawkins. In control in eddies trailer, in control at steves house. But now, with your own actions being thrown in your face with no way to back out you balk.

Hello consequences, nice to meet you. You're faced with the very real possibility that depending on how you respond, you could lose not only eddie. But Steve as well.

"Steve's." Your voice is honest and soft. Because he's right. It is his business. That's how they worked. "He told me what happened between you two after i left and- one thing led to another-"

your bottom lip trembles a little, but you won't cry. You can be a big girl and face the music. The very scary, hot music.

"I got turned on. And jealous. And sad. I don't know how it happened, I just wanted him to tell me everything. And then he started talking about how you used eachother to remember me....please dont hate me."

You really would do anything for his forgiveness. You just hoped You hadn't pushed too far this time.

He nods, letting go of a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. He calms down, if only slightly, because at least you're being honest.

He nods along with your words, big hands and long fingers tapping along your hips as he does. It’s not for your pleasure, but more for his amusement.

“Fucking Harrington — whatever, i’ll deal with him later,” And that’ll also probably end in sex, he thinks, because Steve is nothing if not a fucking minx.

“But right now, i’m dealing with you,” He looks down his nose at you, pointing. “What to do with you, hm? You betrayed me, baby, you really did, but I could never hate you. It’s my own fault. But I can torture you. In my own way.”

He pauses, letting you anticipate things for a moment before he’s gripping your hips and tossing you on your bed, fishing in the bag he’d thrown on the floor. Bingo.

He grabs his handcuffs, already starting the process of cuffing you to your headboard, “Tell me if it’s too tight.” He was mad, but he wasn’t trying to hurt you.

"Don't deal with him without m-" You zipped your lips on second thought, thinking you'd dug your grave enough tonight.

You squeak like a mouse when he picks you up and tosses you onto your bed, bouncing on it as you stare up at him in anticipation and fear and trust all combined. Those stupid cuffs make your thighs clench immediately, cunt remembering what they meant.

"N-no they're fine." Your voice is meek. Docile. You haven't used it in almost two years because it had only ever been reserved for eddie. Only he saw this side of you, steve had seen a small glimpse, but this was your submitting wholly.

You tugged on the cuffs to test their strength and found them strong. You were officially at his mercy. You squirmed on the bed and gave him your best doe eyes.

"What're you going to do to me...." You paused and then added. "....Sir."

You were genuinely curious and a little worried. Torture could mean anything from making your cum so hard you wished you could stop, or him not letting your cum until you cried. Or even worse. Making your talk about feelings.

He smirks down at you, the show of submissiveness making his cock twitch in his jeans. He may be mad, but he was always able to appreciate how hot you were when you let yourself be a good girl.

“I don’t know yet, angel…” He shrugs, shaking his head as he paces in front of your bed, intending to make you as nervous as possible.

“What do you think, hm? Think you’ve been a good enough girl that you deserve for me to make you feel good?” His tone is condescending, almost mocking, but honey sweet.

“Actually—“ He laughs, clapping his hands together like he’d just figured out what he’s going to do, “I know just the thing.”

He’s descending on the bed then, grinning to himself as he hovers over you, “I’m going to do whatever I want to this little cunt until you’re crying —“ He pats your pussy through your jeans, “And youre going to tell me why you decided to cause so much trouble. If you stop, I stop. Capiche?”

Your eyes nearly roll back into your skull. He was so hot when he got a little mean. Something about him actually meaning it this time was gonna drive you insane. You didn't know how you'd live through this physically without opening a third eye or reaching a higher state of being or something.

The whimper you let out when he patted your cunt through the fabric of your jeans was obscene. Even as panic laced through your at this other words, fuck. You were hoping he'd skip over the whole admitting to deep feelings part and just fuck your stupid.

Consequences. Right.

"O-okay." You peered up at him through your lashes as he leaned over you, his dark hair framing his face making him look like some fallen angel. "I understand, sir."

You try to start explaining from the start but don't know how. You're sweaty and horny and nervous all at once, twisting helplessly in the cuffs as he looks down at you.

"I-i just. W-wanted you back. That's the truth, i promise! Just hated this town n wanted a breather. Wanted to find myself....d-didnt mean to hurt you so bad. Missed you so much..."

He nods along with your words, practically ripping your jeans off as he does. He’s desperate, more than you realized.

Suddenly he’s cursing the fact that he always has to wear so much fucking stuff, groaning as he unbuttons his pants and discards them somewhere on your floor. It takes too fucking long if you ask him.

“Duly noted,” He comments, quickly removing his rings and setting them on his desk before he’s pressing two fingers to your mouth, ordering you to “suck”.

Once he’s satisfied he’s putting them both inside you at once, scissoring them in and out and narrowing his eyes when he realizes you're not talking anymore.

His fingers stop, and he lifts his head to meet your eye, “Okay? I didn’t tell you to stop talking — go on or you get less prep, too.”

Your body jerks down the bed as he yanks your jeans down, the cuffs biting into your wrists. The motion sends the chain necklace hidden under your top flying out against your chest, the glinting promise ring he'd given your years ago flashing.

You gasp wetly when he coldly sets his rings aside before your lips are wrapping eagerly around his digits, whining when he pulls them out, your legs widening on instinct for him as he plunges them inside you. You're embarrassed at how wet and slick you are, the sting of being stretched so suddenly only making your moan.

Thighs trembling when he stops. You try desperately to collect your thoughts enough to speak, wanting to be good for him so he forgives you. You'd take his cock now anyway, with barely any prep just to feel the burn of him filling you again, but you want to give him what he wants. Even if its hard for you.

"M-missed you every day i was away. I-I wanted to leave with us still together, wanted t-to become something and then come back for you....but i w-was stubborn and couldn't talk to you like a grown up, couldn't tell you i wanted to get married one day and have babies and be gross- uhhh- so i made you hate me instead, m'sorry."

You hump your hips down on his hand, trying to make him move, tears already collecting on your lashline because you just want him inside you already. You missed him. Missed his cock. It was yours, he was yours.

"Please- didn't mean to hurt you. Please, i just love you, love you so much."

He hates how quickly he folds for you — he’s starting to accept the fact that, where you were involved, he would never be a strong man. And maybe that’s okay.

He sighs to himself, already leaning forward so he can pump his fingers in again, pace almost punishing as he adds a third one — he had to get you prepped, he was thick.

“So you were always gonna come back?” His voice is low, almost awestruck — had he really gone through all that to get over you when you never intended to get over him in the first place?

He gives you a soft smile, then, trying to reassure you that he wasn’t as mad anymore — sure, he’d have to tell you to never be that psychotic again, but he also knows that’s why he loved you so much. It was a give and take.

“God — I love you too, angel, I love you so so much — breathe, okay? S’gonna hurt at first, know those assholes in college probably had small cocks—“ He’s saying it to make himself feel better, even though he’s probably right, slipping his fingers out to lick your juices off before he starts to line his cock up.

You nod eagerly, splaying your thighs so wide for eddie they hurt but you don't care in the slightest.

"Uh huh. Always gonna come back for you. Can't live without you-"

His smile makes your eyes wet all over again and You lean up, straining against your cuffs to give him a kiss, knowing you had him. You were probably still in trouble for the Steve thing, but for now, it was about them, and he loved you.

"N-no one was as good as you- no one. Missed your cock. Thought about it stuffin' me every night- love it, love it as much as you eddie, i need it-"

You hiccup on your words as you feel the blunt head of him at your hole, biting your lip raw as he pushes in. He's so thick. You start shaking immediately, tears slipping because it feels like he's tearing you open but you love it. You missed it.

"Eddie, please. D-dont torture me anymore, i learned my lesson- love me please."

“God, I love when you’re such a fuckin’ sap, you know that?”

He signs against you, leaning down so he can press a kiss against your pillow soft lips, bottoming out in one go.

He knew it would hurt but he also knew you’d like it, you always had — he thought you were crazy, and maybe you were, but he never really cared.

He moves his lips against yours as he stays there, itching to move but wanting to make sure you're okay first, “Shh, baby, I love you so much, okay? You got me, m’yours, never gonna leave you—“

He has to take another breath, almost choked, “God, this pussy is so good, fuck — can I move? Please? Needa fuck you, feel like i’ve been missing it forever.”

Your eyes crossed in that way they did when he hit that gooey spot at your center, his cock filling you to the brim. Brain completely shutting off all function as you whined so loudly.

"Move, move. Fuck me, baby. Fuck me for all the time i made you miss this cunt- please. Need to feel it-"

You pulled your own knees up, your pink sneakers and socks still on, your toes curling in your rainbow colored socks, golden anklet dangling around your foot as you propped them on either side of his shoulders.

The position widened your cunt and you moaned like a whore at how wide and exposed you felt. You could only imagine how you looked down there, wet and folds straining around his thick cock splitting your open as wide as you'd go. When he started moving, your feet swaying in the air next to his head, you started babbling even more.

"G-god. Love you, love you, love you. M'gonna die i love being fucked by you so much, please, please."

He almost forgot how good you looked when you were opening yourself up for him, letting yourself go mind numb and slutty.

He doesn’t have to be told twice, hands traveling from the sides of your head to the notches in your knees, big hands gripping them to spread your fartyour.

He works up to punishing thrusts but he knows it’s what you like, let’s himself pound into you until his pelvis is grinding down into your clit and the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass echo throughout the room.

“God, love you so much, love this pretty fucking pussy—“ Hes groaning, babbling, just as fucked dumb as you is at this point.

He grins when he hears the wet squelch of your cunt around him, just encouraging him to give it to you harder, “You hear yourself, baby? You missed me, just as much as I missed you, fuck, could fuck you like this forever—“

You might be embarrassed if you weren't so turned on.

"Pl- missed you so much- my pussy missed you so much-"

Your fists clench in your restraints, feeling overwhelmed about the fact that you have to lay there and take it.

"Make me take my pounding- oh, oh, never gonna leave again, just keep me here forever-"

Just the thought of it, of eddie keeping your tied up and using your cunt whenever he wanted has you dripping around his cock fucking into you again and again. It's a fantasy but its a hot one, especially after the circumstances. Eddie making sure you could never go anywhere again, chained up and splayed open to take his cock like you were meant to.

You open your mouth. "S-spit. Spit in my mouth, ah! Please."

His bangs are sticking to his head, sweat slicking his skin and the groan you pull out of him feels like it’s fucking unholy.

The thought is a fantasy, of course, some depraved thing he’d never actually do, but fuck if he didn’t like the thought of you always ready and open for him, just waiting to take his cock whenever he wanted.

His eyes flit down to yours and he nods, immediately pursing his lips and leaning down so he can drip his spit into your mouth, leaning down to lick across your lips.

“S’that good, baby? How’s my spit taste, huh?”

His words are dirty, accentuated by the filthy sounds of fucking that fill the air.

“Cum on my cock, baby, cmon, show me how much you missed me, okay? Soak my cock, angel, s-shit —“ He needed you to. He didn’t know how much longer he’d last.

"Tastes so good sir, mm"

your lashes flutter and its like your cunt can't help but follow his orders, clenching around him as you cum. It feels so good, you missed this so bad. The cuffs rattle against the headboard as you tremble and shake your feet crossing behind Eddie's neck.

"Cum, cum in me, please. Wanna be full of you-"

You wanted to feel it splash inside you and fill you up, wanted to keep it inside you, filling you up and keeping you warm. Your skin was flushed and your chest was heaving and you lay limp and let your body he used like a fleshlight for him to dump his cum into.

He doesn’t have to be told twice. He folds himself over your when he feels himself about to cum, hips pumping into that little cunt like he’s trying to break it.

He wants his cock to get as deep as possible, wants his cum to go into your womb — the evil part of him thinks that maybe he could baby trap you, but he pushes that down immediately. He’s not that evil.

But he’s ashamed to say the thought is what makes him deliver his last thrust, cum spurting and painting your walls white.

He's panting above you, the hot cum thick and he doesn’t even want to pull out cause he wants to keep it there. But he does, fingers coming down to push it back in, ignoring your hiss of sensitivity.

“Fuck. You looks so fucking pretty all wet and puffy, you’re lucky i’m exhausted or id make you go another round.”

He drops down next to you on the bed, fingers still stuffed inside you to keep his cum there. He kisses your sweaty forehead as you curl against him. You're obviously too out of it to talk, but he knows you'll have to. Know it'll be messy and painful, but. He thinks you'll both come out okay.

He's not letting you go. Never again.

You knock on Steve's door, tapping your big chunky black boots against his steps, fishnets pulling against your thighs. You snuggled more into eddies flannel around you as you waited.

You just hoped you could clear the air, perhaps ask your good ol' friend a favor and ask him not to bring up what happened between them to eddie. Sure, he already knew about it. But you didn't want any awkward tension between them, especially since you and eddie were back together. It should be fine right? Steve had fucked loads of girls and had it mean nothing. And they hadn't even fucked, really! So it should be greattttt.

When he opened the door you smiled tentatively at him.

"Hey best friend in the whole wide world, you look great today by the way, did you do something with your hair? It looks really nice. Anyway! Can i come in?"

The second he opens the door he’s giving you a once over, no longer feeling it necessary to hide how blatantly he checks you out.

You look hot, and he swears he’s almost choking on air when he sees your fishnets.

His mouth opens, then closes again when he hears your words, brows furrowing as he moves out of the way to let you in.

“What did you do? You never ask to come in, you always just come in — and you’re complimenting me. Why are you complimenting me?”

your eyes come together in a squint as you pout. It's not something you can just come out and say, is it? You need to work up to it. Him checking you out isn't helping matters at all, making your skin flush.

"Have you no faith in me? Why must I have done something to compliment my friend? Do you only like to be degraded? "

You push past him now and nervously perch on the armrest of his couch. You can't sit on the cushions where they'd touched themselves in front of each other, even though he's probably washed them by now.

"I, uh. Have an update on the Eddie and me situation, is all."

“Because you’re never nice to me? Because even when we were like, five, you’d come up to me and then call me ugly and steal my snacks? I think I know my best friend by now.”

He squints at you, walking closely behind you and settling on the recliner next to the couch. Those cushions felt too — intimate, now.

It wasn’t like their relationship had changed — had it? He doesn’t even know if he would be ready for that, he didn’t expect any of yesterday to happen and—

Oh. “Oh, uh—“ His throat feels thick, “What is it?”

You kick your feet and hum, thinking the casual route is the best option. Cool as a cucumber. Cum. Steve's cum on your panties. Okay-

"We're back together. Basically. Uh, i won't get into the details of how that happened. But, yay!" You waggle your fingers in the air but then drop them and frown, glancing at Steve guilty.

"I guess....I was just hoping. We could keep what happened, you know. Between us?"

Eddie already knew about it, but you didn't want steve being weird about it. You pushed down the part of yourself that let it happen in the first place, the part of you that gotten lost in the moment. You didn't want any more problems between you and eddie. Any more drama. You'd promised to be good.

He frowns, blinking at you for a few seconds. Was he just supposed to forget everything now?

“Okay, pause—“ He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before he’s leaning over his knees, elbows on top, “So. You’re back together, yeah, cool, whatever, but—“

He pauses, then. Why was he upset? And why was he jealous? Of Eddie or of you he didn’t know, and he absolutely was not in the right state of mind to accept that it was definitely both.

“It’s — okay, yeah, whatever. Yeah, fine, forget it. It didn’t even mean anything.”

Hes bluffing, of course he is, but he’s hurt, and one thing Steve Harrington hates is vulnerability.

You frowned. This is what you wanted but his wording didn't sit right with you. It niggled at your brain and even though you knew you should leave it, you couldn't.

"It might have meant nothing to me, but it definitely meant something to you. I know you've had a thing for me for years, steve."

You smoothed your hands down your shorts. Honestly, who did he think he was fooling. Just because you DEFINITELY didn't feel the same (You couldn't right? You had eddie again) didn't mean you were oblivious to his pining.

"Not that that matters, anyway. I know this hurts you, is my point. But thanks for being so cool about it. You're the best steve."

You smiled at him extra sweetly.

He can't stop his jaw from dropping slightly, eyebrows knitting together in a scowl, both confused and mildly angry.

“Im — excuse me? You do know that you also let me cum all over you, right? Like, that definitely wasn’t just a me thing.“

He's seething. He definitely feels it, fire flowing through his veins. You were compensating, he knew that, but fuck if it didn’t piss him off.

“Yeah,it fucking hurts to be thrown to the side like that, but I think you should also probably evaluate why the fuck you even wanted to in the first place. You’re throwing stones from a glass house.”

You flush angrily and pop up, hating being called out. God, why did everyone wanna make you own up to things?

"I'll throw stones at you! What does that even mean? I got horny, so what? You were talking about eddie, the boy i love. Of course i was gonna be into it."

You can't think about his cock, or how it felt to have him talk about wanting you. You're not allowed to be that greedy when you just got eddie back. You can't allow Steve to think you liked him at all, or he'd intervene.

"Look. Just. We both agree to keep it between us? I'm sorry it hurt you but what do you want from me? You know I can't like you back. I'm with eddie. You can't ruin that for me just because you have a crush."

Maybe if you were mean enough he'd stop having feelings for you and then they could go back to being friends and you and eddie could be in love and everything would be fine.

“You know what? Whatever, deny whatever the fuck you want, it’s not my grave to dig.“

He shakes his head, leaning back in his recliner again and averting his gaze from your. He was tired, and he knew you could tell.

Part of him knew he had little right to be angry — You didn’t like him back, whatever. But it felt like he’d put his heart out there and you’d simply thrown it to the side.

“Sure, whatever. But know that this—“ He gestures between the two of them, “Is not the same now. Don’t come over late at night when you’re bored and want to watch movies, don’t come bug me at the store, don’t offer to help babysit the others with me. I’m done.”

He lets it hang in the air, knowing you won’t go down without a fight but needing to get his peace out.

You felt your heart clench in your chest. He looked so disappointed in you and you didn't know how to fix it. Why couldn't things just go back to how they were?

You stomped your foot. "Why are you making this such a big deal? It never was before...."

He looked seconds away from tossing you out of his house and you wanted to scream. You didn't wanna think about why you felt so upset by him not wanting anything to do with you anymore.

"You hook up with loads of girls and it means nothing, just let it be like that. You can't be done with me, you can't just make that choice."

“Those loads of girls aren’t—“

He stops himself. How would he finish that? ‘Aren’t you?’ ‘Aren’t the girl i’ve had a crush on for years?’ ‘Aren’t the girl I jacked off to pictures of with your ex boyfriend?’

“They aren’t my best friend. And I can make that choice, actually. I’m quite literally making it right now.”

He takes a deep breath before standing, already moving to sweep open the door.

“I’ll see you around, yeah? Have fun with Munson for me.”

You're snuggled against Eddie like a little kitten, happy but still feeling guilty about your conversation with Steve earlier. You hadn't told Eddie about any of it. Mostly because he said he wanted to deal with steve, whatever that meant, and your going over there and breaking his heart probably wasn't something he'd be okay with. You wondered what eddie's reaction would be to all the hidden drama between you and the other man. If he knew that you had strung along not only him, but Steve too? You didn't think he'd be happy.

You were just glad Steve agreed to keep quiet about it. The guilt would go away, surely. So would the feelings.

Steve mulled it over for hours after you'd left, trying to get rid of the guilt that consumed him for screwing Eddie over and the anger that filled him when he thought of what you had said.

That decides it for him, he thinks, and he's grabbing his jacket on the way out of the house with a scowl on his face. Eddie deserved to know -- and Steve thought he should tell him.

And then he's surprised when he's knocking on Munson's trailer only to see you cuddled up on the couch, already asking him to come back to cuddle -- he breathes deeply, trying to keep his features and voice in check.

"Hey, Munson -- lemme come in real quick? It'll only take a sec, just wanna talk."

Eddie's on top of the world, really -- he's got his girlfriend back, his ex had finally stopped throwing shit at his trailer to fuck with him, and he wasn't being hunted by practically half the town anymore. He thinks he's living the life.

Which is why he's all smiles when he opens the door and greets Steve, already moving out of the way to invite him in.

He registers that Steve looks a little off, but doesn't think much of it because, why would Steve be upset? They'd gotten a lot closer since...last summer, enough that Eddie could say that he's one of his best friends. So nothing bad, right?

"Yeah, dude, come in! What's up?" He grins, looking from Steve to you and painfully missing the tension, "Everything alright?"

You're giving steve 'im going to murder you' eyes over eddies shoulder. Already you know this can't be good for you. Steve looks vindictive and you don't know how to stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

You stand up, smiling.

"Oh my god, did you guys have plans? Eddie, you should have told me, silly. I'll just leave you to it! Call me when you're done!" You scurry to grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder.

The way you see it, You can't stop Steve from spilling, but you can definitely run from the fallout. Maybe regroup. Explain to eddie later when Steve wasn't there, your side of things once you thought of a suitable enough lie.

Steve's immediately stepping back and throwing his arm out to stop you from leaving, blocking the door and crossing his arms as he looks from you to level with Eddie.

"Did you know?" His voice is tight, jaw set. He sees Eddie's confused face and he has to stop the laugh that threatens to come out, only shaking his head.

"About her and I? Did she tell you?" The flash of recognition on Eddie's face has his other words fading off, his brows furrowing. No way you'd told him?

Eddie's in shock for the first few seconds, trying to process what the fuck is happening between his best friend and his girlfriend. Should he be concerned?

But then Steve speaks and, yes, it takes Eddie a second, he isn't the brightest guy in the world, but he quickly catches on and nods, laughing softly.

"Oh -- dude, yeah, she told me yesterday when we -- it doesn't matter. Why do you seem so upset about it? I thought you guys were on cool terms now."

Eddie looks from the other boy to you, eyebrows knit together, "Right, babe?"

You feel something in you shrivel and die. Eddie was about to find out how even more of a cunt you were than he thought.

You bit your lip, glancing at Steve and then at Eddie and then at the ground, kicking your shoes against the floor as you shuffled back to the couch and sat on it, looking at neither of them now. How best could you sugarcoat all this?

"Um." You tucks some hair behind your ear. "Depends on your definition of fine? Like do we have a mutual understanding? Uh uh! Right, steve?"

You plead with him with your eyes to leave it at that. He used to always cave for those. Please don't tell my boyfriend im a manipulative cunt and I played with your feelings, he'll skin me alive! You don't want the girl you're secretly in love with skinned alive, right? You hoped that's all conveyed in your gaze.

He contemplates it, he really does. Contemplates caving in to those pretty eyes and lying to save your ass.

And then he remembers what happened between you two, the things you had said after practically admitting you returned his feelings, and that's all he needs to avert his gaze. You couldn't get him with the eyes if he didn't look.

"Yeah, mutual understanding. Mutual understanding that we're not friends anymore because apparently it meant nothing to you and only something to me, and that I should just get over what happened because you're happy with Eddie again and that's all that matters. Right?"

He's looking at Eddie as he says it, eyes trained on the other's.

Eddie, for his part, tries not to let the shock show on his face but he's never been particularly good at hiding his emotions.

His eyes flick from Steve, to you, to Steve, then back to you again. How much had you left out when you'd told him about your and Steve's talk? He thought it went well.

"Oh," Is all he can say, trying to work through the confusion he's feeling.

"Um -- explain, please baby? The truth this time."

Drats. There was no wyoure to run then. You could only really blame yourself, but still. You wanted to pout. But you knew that would only make it worse.

"Eddie, um." your voice is quiet, tinged with regret. "Steve and i....well. We have, sort of. A past i guess? But i love you. I do. You know i do. I just- i told steve i liked him back, when we- when we hooked up. I don't know why."

The thing was you did know why. You'd denied it for years, because you'd had Eddie, and didn't want to be greedy. But you had feelings for steve. But you couldn't say that now, could you?

"I don't know the truth." Yes you did. The truth was you were in love with two men at the same time but didn't want to say it. "I love you eddie. Im sorry. I didn't wanna tell you because i didn't want you to think i was.....hurting more people."

You shrugged. "I told steve i chose you, basically and he took it bad, is all."

Steve only stands there with his arms crossed, looking at Eddie with raised eyebrows as if to ask if he really believed you.

Eddie meets Steve's gaze and sighs, because he really wants to believe his girlfriend and have this all blow over but he knows he can't. The two people who knew you best were standing in this room and they both knew you were lying.

"I said to be honest.," He runs ringed fingers through his hair, giving you a look laced with disappointment while his big brown eyes plead, "Please? You're hiding something."

He didn't think you didn't love him -- he knew you did, he would never not be secure in that, but you were holding something back, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"I'm not mad, just -- please."

You're ashamed to feel tears burn your eyes. You hate crying. Emotional crying anyway. Especially when you spent two hours on this whole smokey eye look, fuck.

"Fuck you. I spent ages on this makeup." You direct your words at Steve, glaring at him like it's his fault for making you have feelings. You look at eddie and soften, seeing he really doesn't look angry with you. "I love you eddie. That's the biggest truth. I just- don't want to hurt you anymore. I've hurt you enough and i can't be greedy anymore, or I'll truly be the worst person alive. But, but."

You look at Steve again with your watery eyes and hope he feels guilty for making you cry. He's so mean. And he called you the mean one. Haha.

"I love Steve too. I think i have f-for awhile." your lip trembles. "M'sorry eddie. M'the worst girlfriend alive."

Oh shit.

Okay, steve didn't expect that -- not at all, actually, and he has to quickly pick up his jaw from the floor because holy shit, You what? You actually liked -- no, loved him back?

He thinks he's stunned into silence and, for once, needs Eddie to pick up and speak for him. Plus, he really does feel bad for making you cry, and he wants to go over and comfort you, but he swears he feels rooted where he stands. What the fuck?

Eddies eyebrows furrow, body immediately moving to where you are sitting to wrap his arms around you. He hates seeing you cry, even more so when he's part of the reason why.

"I love you too, angel, always, why wouldn't I? Nothing you could ever do could stop me from--"

He swears his whole world gets thrown off its axis. You -- loved Steve? And him? He searches in him for the anger he's probably supposed to be feeling, or jealousy, but it comes up...empty.

He knows it would be there had this been anyone else, but he can't deny the feelings he'd harbored for the other man just a few months prior. If you wanted them both, why would he deny you?

"Guess he is kinda pretty, huh?" He's trying to lighten the mood, swiping away a stray tear with his thumb, "You're not awful, angel, could never be -- I don't mind sharing. I think I even kinda like him too." He turns, eyebrows raised, "So, Harrington. Whaddya say?"

You lean into Eddie's touch immediately, wanting to crawl into his lap, so you do. You can't believe you're lucky enough to have someone like him. He should be throwing you out, and banishing you from his trailer but instead he's saying You can have what you want? That he wants it too?

You turn from where you'd buried your head in his neck to peek at steve. "H-he is pretty." You swallow. "When we....i made him touch himself and tell me about the things you guys did. Was mean to him until he got mean back. I-I really liked it eddie."

You turn to look up at him with your big eyes, jutting out your bottom lip.

"For some reason, i can never be a brat towards you. Wanna be your good girl. That's why i didn't tell you. Didn't wanna disappoint you. A-and i was embarrassed because...didn't want you to know how much of a brat i can be."

You squirm as your eyes turn to Steve again. "And i didn't want you to know how much i liked being dominated....was too embarrassing. It's easier to just be a bitch. But i love you, steve. Come here?"

He's a broken down man, truly, because the second you turn to him with those big eyes and pouty lips he's nodding, walking towards his two friends -- lovers, now? -- with a slight roll of his eyes.

"So I had to do all this for you two to finally realize your love for me? We coulda saved so much time, y'know--" But he's smiling, softly and fondly because he's unable to help himself. How'd he get so lucky?

The mention of their time together has him gulping, heat rushing to his face, "She's a real brat, Munson -- how the hell do you calm her down so quick? Swear it's like I look into those eyes and I'm putty." But then he's smirking, an idea coming into his head, "Wanna show me?"

"You know, Harrington, I don't think you've ever had a better idea--" Eddie's grinning, big and goofy and way more cocky than he should be.

But he has a hot boyfriend and a hot girlfriend, so how could anyone blame him? He's literally living the good life.

He turns to you, planting a kiss on your lips before he's speaking gently, "How 'bout it, angel? Wanna show Stevie how to tame the beast?" He says it teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows, but his voice is low enough to show that he means it, "Bet he'd get a kick out of it. Maybe we'll even let him join."

He locks eyes with Steve before leaning forward to kiss him, too, smirking at the bright blush on the boy's face, "See? He likes it."

You felt yourself heat up at their kiss, nodding eagerly at the idea of Eddie showing Steve how he made you melt. You were a little embarrassed at the thought of Steve seeing your turn so slutty, but mostly excited.

When they pull back You're leaning forward to kiss Steve yourself, moaning loudly into his mouth before pulling back and settling into Eddie's chest.

"W-wanna show him how good i can be." You put on your signature pout and stick one of your feet out, again, pushing it against steve's shoulder. "You're not allowed to make fun me, kay? I'll bite your head off."

You think you'd actually like it if he made fun of you, taunted you a little, but you'd die before you willingly admitted you fantasized about being bullied by him. He could figure that one out himself.

"Eddie, please." You were already starting to get desperate, grinding back against him. "T-touch me now. Wanna be touched."

Steve swallows hard, nodding his head and feeling dazed after the two kisses -- is this how he was gonna feel every time? Hazy and feeling drunk off of just one kiss?

He's watching, eagerly trying to eat up everything he can about the way they interact -- so he can learn, of course.

Your begging is like music to eddies ears, ringed hands running up and down your sides to tease you a bit before he's pushing your shirt up, letting your tits bounce free. You didn't wear bras when he was around.

"Aren't they so pretty, Stevie?" His voice is taunting, more towards you than him, but it looks and feels so good to be in control of both of them right now. Addicting, almost.

"She makes the prettiest sounds when you just..." He trails off, fingers tweaking one of your nipples and grinning at the needy whine he receives.

"Wanna see her get really worked up, though?" At Steve's eager nod he quickly unbuttons your shorts and shimmies them off along with your panties, letting them fall to the floor. He brings his hands down to rip along the seam of your fishnets, creating the perfect opening for his fingers to descend upon your clit, moving in slow circles.

You tremble and want to kick your feet, but steve is wrapping a hand around your ankle and squeezing it, his brown eyes fixed where eddie is playing with your little bud. He looks ravenous.

He meets your eyes and smiles, wolfish.

"You have a lot of groveling to do with that little pussy, I think."

"Mm, she does." Eddie agrees from behind you, "to both of us. Better strap in sweetheart."

Welcome fucking back to hawkins.

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