#st steve fanfic
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i need fanfic where steve harrington is more like joe keery in that you'll often see him around and just be like "what in the hell is he doing"
i need chaotic weird girl steve harrington who grew up with basically no parental supervision and ended up like one of those really eccentric quirky rich kids
and like maybe he was able to tone it down when he was king steve but once he no longer cared about popularity and fitting in...
#stranger things#steve harrington#joe keery#joseph keery#headcanon#fanfic#fanfiction#fan fic#fan fiction#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things headcanons#stranger things fanfic#steve Harrington fanfic#steve Harrington headcanon#st steve headcanon#st steve fanfic#st steve#ノエルの投稿
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Of Books & Beasts
Prompt: virginity
Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader
Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope
Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol
Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!
ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts
-:-:-:-:-
The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right?
Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking.
With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.
“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register.
“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order.
“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.”
“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone.
But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —”
“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.”
The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real.
“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly.
“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?”
“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.”
-:-:-:-:-
You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel.
However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.
“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers.
“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library.
“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head.
“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly.
Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully.
Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man.
“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?”
“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas.
However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed.
Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your —
No.
This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever.
“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts.
“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle.
“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot.
“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.
Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.”
“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.”
The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you.
“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?”
You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words.
What a dream.
“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket.
“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly.
“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.”
They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry.
It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little.
Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice.
“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body.
Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever.
But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least.
You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve.
The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.
But you were so wrong.
Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs.
Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal.
Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together.
-:-:-:-:-
Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant.
His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before.
As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too.
Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process.
You were about to become the death of him tonight.
Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him.
“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”
Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep.
If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly.
“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily.
“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep.
“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream.
“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.”
Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand.
Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully.
“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together.
“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”
The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure.
“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status.
“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it.
“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?”
Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight.
“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud
“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions.
“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered.
“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all.
You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”
“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”
“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment.
“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice.
Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them.
“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth.
“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot.
“Y-yes, I would be.”
After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.”
“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.
“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone.
“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle.
“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.”
In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure.
No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind.
“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts.
“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.
“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him.
“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly.
You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him.
“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts.
“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.
“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again.
“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down.
All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.”
The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before.
“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted.
“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly.
“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.
Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever.
“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours.
“More, please.”
“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.”
“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea.
Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned.
“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you.
“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.
But, you were wrong, so wrong.
As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise.
“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him.
“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter.
You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.
“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met.
Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back.
The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again.
“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.”
“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub.
“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod.
Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal.
The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.
“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper.
“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder.
“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve.
The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples.
You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good.
“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin.
“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned.
“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.”
And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms.
“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently.
Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high.
“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down.
“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips.
The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips,
“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses.
“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now.
“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?”
Fuck.
Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly.
The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”
“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”
“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust.
“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?”
With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least.
“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle.
“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking.
“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased.
Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers.
You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed.
“Let's use a little, Steve.”
“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand.
“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.”
Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight.
“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you.
Just the tip — you said the words before.
But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out.
This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of.
“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in.
“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size.
“Feels nice.”
“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you.
Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved.
Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body.
“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.
“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you.
“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you.
He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.”
“Need more — need you to go faster.”
“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully.
“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.
In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely. “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned.
“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you.
Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies.
“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.”
“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now.
You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days.
One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.
“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster.
“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”
“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.
“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.”
Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”
“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes.
“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.
“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots.
Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you.
And he did.
Good god, he did.
“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously.
“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve.
He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you.
For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way.
You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays.
“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you.
“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him.
“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process.
“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again.
Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs.
“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze.
Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips.
“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”
You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked.
“Another day?”
“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin.
“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process.
If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too.
-:-:-:-:-
#my writing#writing#st fanfic#st fanfiction#fanfiction#kinktober#kinktober 2023#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#LazyGhoulsKinktober2023#friends to lover#fluff#fluff and smut#best friend!steve#innocent!reader#perv!steve harrington#perv!steve harrington x innocent!reader#steve harrington x f!reader#afab reader#slight somnophilia#just the tip#st#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#my fic#writing prompt#steve harrington#set before season 4
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can i request angst☹️☹️shy!reader barely ever talking and being soo hyperaware of everything and steve slowly breaks her out of her shell? then she overhears him saying she talks too much and she just feels bad and reverts into herself
Angst w happy endingn if possible please ily!!🫶🏼
ty for requesting!! — steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)
Your smile is wide and unknowing. Steve thinks there’s something extra special about it because you don’t even realize it’s there. “—And since Eddie was working the register, he let me take one of the new tapes for free. You know, to try it or whatever, and he was all like, ‘flattery works with me,’ and I was like, Steve would keel over if he was here right now.”
A giggle spills from your mouth when your rambling ceases, lips curling and eyes crinkling.
Steve blinks at you with his own absentminded beam, too busy thinking about how pretty you are to react properly to your story.
Your smile sobers slightly. “What?”
“Nothing,” he assures with the shake of his neatly styled head, rogue strands of chestnut hair draping his forehead. He shrugs and leans his elbows over the Family Video counter you stand across. “You’re just… You’re talking a lot. ’S nice.”
Your face heats. Your chest burns with a similar fire. Your eyes widen ‘cause you didn’t realize that you hadn’t shut up until now. “Oh… Sorry—”
“No, it’s good!” he tells you, laughing. “It’s a compliment.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah! I mean, I used to have to bribe you to get you to talk about your day. Remember that?”
Benny’s Burgers was your very best friend at the start of your relationship. Steve would always buy your dinner — not in exchange for you to talk exactly, but in the hopes that the additional time spent with you would help you open up. It did. Most of the time, anyway.
Your nose scrunches. “I thought you took me out because you liked me?”
“I took you out ‘cause I liked you and because the sugar rush from the milkshakes made you talk more.”
You nod once. “Right.”
The conversation ebbs. The store gets eerily silent without your voices to fill it. Steve, undeterred by the lapse in dialogue, flashes you a lopsided smile. “Wanna show me the tapes you bought?”
“Yeah,” you murmur and push off the counter.
Steve watches you over his shoulder while you saunter down the hallway where your bag is kept. The breakroom door squeals open and shut again. A voice sounds suddenly from beside him. “Nice job, dingus,” Robin chides, gritty and montoned.
His head snaps to the other side, brows twisted with confusion. “What?”
“You hurt her feelings,” she answers like it’s obvious, dropping a stack of VHS tapes on the counter with a heavy thud.
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“You said she was talking a lot.”
“I said that I liked it!”
Robin rolls her ocean-blue eyes, huffing ‘cause he’s too oblivious to get the point. “Yeah, but if I said, Wow, you have a ton of gel in your hair— but it’s styled really nice today, it’d give you a whole complex. Wouldn’t it?”
The make-believe compliment is dreadfully backhanded. Steve’s face floods with a gentle horror, the realization of a fallacy he hadn’t realized he’d made. “Shit…”
“Exactly,” Robin deadpans. “Now go take care of your girlfriend, dingus.”
He finds you in the breakroom, idling in place. You’ve got the cassettes in your hands, and you fidget with them between anxious fingers — like you were planning to come out sometime, but not quite yet.
You tense when the door creaks open, relaxing again when Steve enters.
“Whatcha doing?” he wonders with a crooked, pink smile.
“Getting the tapes,” you answer in a mousy voice, waving the pieces of plastic in your hand.
The door clicks shut behind him. He inches towards you, fond and terribly soft with it. “I missed you,” he confesses in a faint murmur. His wide palms settle on your sides. You warm instantly under his touch.
“I was gone for two seconds,” you respond with a quiet laugh.
“Yeah. And I felt like I was dying.”
You meet his pout with a small smile, blinking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”
“I just love being around you, alright? Sue me,” he argues, squeezing softly at your hips. With a quieter smile, he confesses, “And when I said you were talking a lot— I didn’t mean anything by it, you know?”
You’d disappeared back here because you thought it was something silly to be so upset over. He’d told you it was a compliment, but it didn’t really feel like one. Your brain refused to be anything other than hurt by his well-intentioned remarks. The ache in your chest became unignorable, and you shrunk inside yourself accordingly.
“I know,” you murmur.
“I love hearing you talk,” he tells you, shy smirk widening to a lopsided beam. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, actually.”
Your lips purse to the side. Your anxious hands fidget with the plastic cassettes in your palms, aching to hold him. It takes you a moment or more to find the courage to speak. “I’m just… I’m normally super aware of… when I’m talking too much, you know? I was just… Excited, I guess.”
“You were. And it was really fuckin’ cute.” A laugh sputters from his lips. He wears all the love he has for you in the deep honey of his eyes, rich and swimming with warmth. “I love seeing you happy.”
“Well, you make me happy…” you whisper, gaze averted. “So, it fits…”
“Yeah, it does,” he murmurs in response, ducking down to kiss you. It’s chaste and terribly fleeting — lips locking together one moment and then smacking in protest when they separate the next.
It takes your eyes a second too long to flutter open again after he’s pulled back from you. You find Steve already grinning as he nods to the tapes in your hands. “Wanna pop those into the radio? So we can listen to ‘em while I work?”
Your brows pinch with a distant worry. “Won’t Keith get mad?”
“Probably,” Steve answers with an uncaring shrug. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright? I’ll take care of you.”
You melt.
#published by bug#steve harrington x reader#stranger things x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington imagine#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#st drabbles#stevie drabble
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“I don’t think I’m straight.”
Steve had reached that conclusion exactly ten seconds before saying it out loud. Laying upside down on the couch of his house with his best friend draping her legs on top of him.
“Is that what you were thinking about?” Robin asked, not lifting her eyes from her book.
“Yeah, it just makes sense.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Steve hummed thoughtfully. Did he want to talk about it? Was it important enough? Did it change anything?
“I feel the same,” he said. “I thought being gay would feel different.” For a second, Steve was sure Robin would tell him that was a stupid thing to think.
“Are you gay?” Robin asked instead, because she is Robin. She was able to ask something in a judgemental tone without being judgy.
“I'm not straight.” he repeated.
“Pretty sure there are more than two options.” She explained with a joking tone. It was lucky, she thought, that she found a zine hidden in a library when she visited her aunt in Indianapolis.
“How do I know what I am?”
“I don't know, actually,” she said, putting her book down. “I've never seen what the big deal with men is.” Robin explained, crossing her arms. “That's how I knew.”
“I definitely see the big deal with women,” Steve responded simply.
“What about men?”
“I think I always saw the big deal, I just pretended it did not exist.” Steve explained.
“Oh, sweet old denial.” She teased. “How do you feel about this?”
“I would feel better if I had better taste.” Steve deadpanned, causing Robin to laugh and kick him. He slid out of the sofa dramatically to the floor. “Kicking me while I'm most vulnerable, Buckley? I see your game.”
“I have been bidding my time to find your weak spot, Harrington.” Robin joked lightly, jabbing Steve’s legs with her foot. “You will fall, Steven!”
Steve retaliated by pulling her into the floor.
“Look who's falling now?”
“Whatever,” Robin pushed herself to sit upward, sitting on the floor with her back against the sofa. Steve mimicked her with his back against the coffee table. “Who is the guy?” she asked.
“I don't wanna tell you,” Steve whispered, more out of respect for their tradition than anything else. “You’ll make fun of me.”
“Of course I will,” she whispered back. Steve reached for her hand to intertwine their fingers and she held him without batting an eye. “That’s kinda my job as your soulmate.” Steve chuckled. “I have to make sure whoever it is doesn’t mess up our vibe, you know?” He didn’t.
“I’m sure he won’t."
"Are you really gonna make me guess?" Steve lit up at the suggestion. Before he could speak, Robin continued "I'm not gonna guess, just tell me."
"Are you afraid of getting it wrong and looking like a fool?" He teased.
"It's Eddie." She answered less than a second later.
Steve did not respond, shocked at her quick response.
"Who's the fool now, Steve?" The smile on her face was infectious to Steve, who poker her with his foot.
"How did you do that?"
"By having eyes."
"What do you think?" She closed her eyes and hummed as Steve waited for her response.
"I think he looks at you the same way you look at him."
"I should ask him out."
"I can be your wingman!" She exclaimed.
"Oh, my god, yes!"
"We have to make a plan," Robin yelled. She jumped to her feet, letting go of Steve's hand, and dashed up the stairs. "I'm going to get some paper."
Steve stayed behind, sitting more comfortably on the floor, and removing the magazines they had on the coffee table off.
They made a plan, that ended in more of a disaster which is a story for another time. There is only one thing that is important.
Eddie said yes.
#stranger things#steve harrington#steddie#st eddie munson#st steve#st4#stranger things 4#fanfic#st fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#arin writes#platonic soulmates stobin#platonic stobin#stobin friendship#stranger things robin#st robin#robin buckley
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"Hey," Steve says, voice both firm and gentle as he holds both of Eddie's hands in his own. "Why are you panicking about this?"
"I'm not panicking, I'm just being realistic." Eddie shakes his head and avoids making eye contact, looking at the ground as though a complicated puzzle that requires solving has sprung up on in the patterned tiles of the record shop's floor.
Steve knows what this is about, but he also knows that calling Eddie out when he's dealing with Tornado Brain gets him nothing but more Tornado Brain and a brick wall. So instead, he just keeps Eddie's hands warm and still and waits. His boyfriend isn't one for silence, so it shouldn't take too long--
"How are you not freaking out right now? Our profits were like, half what we've been pulling since we opened."
There it is.
"Because it's Thanksgiving and the holiday rush is coming. Because I actually did pretty well in those stupid accounting classes at the community college and know that we have plenty banked up to balance out the slower months now and then. Ed," he squeezes Eddie's hands until Eddie finally meets his eyes, wide with eyebrows knitted between them. "It's gonna be okay, I promise."
"Guess I can't do anything but trust you, huh?" Eddie shrugs and the hint of a smirk ghosts his lips. "It's growing up poor, man. Makes you a little... obsessive? About money? Or, about not having enough? This shop was my idea and God, if it fails, you're in it with me now. I can't drag you down with a sinking ship--"
Steve pulls one of Eddie's hands up to his lips and kisses the back of it. Eddie quiets.
"I'd rather be on a sinking ship with you than land with anyone else, okay? And it's not gonna fail. No matter what, we're gonna be alright."
"Okay, fine. I'll believe you." Eddie's shoulders fall away from ears and an actual grin blossoms across his face. One of Steve's many favorite sights. "Fancy numbers guy."
Steve rolls his eyes and smiles, releasing Eddie's hands and leaning against the back of the counter. "And you love it."
"Mhm," Eddie hums, leaning forward to kiss him, soft and chaste. "Sure do. I'm gonna flip the sign to open but when we flip it closed tonight, I'll show you how much."
sometimes, you've gotta take your own freak outs and complexes and project them onto your favorite blorbos, right?
#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#st fic#myblurbs
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The months following Steve's fight with Billy and the excursion through the Mind Flayer’s tunnels found Steve at a bit of a loss. The animosity between him and Hargrove had only grown exponentially, but it didn’t bother him as much as it used to. Sure, Hargrove sucked ass, and he had definitely taken over as the newest reigning douchebag, but that kind of stuff just didn’t matter to Steve anymore.
So at school, he found himself sitting with Nancy and Jonathan during lunch. It was a bit awkward considering Nancy and Jon were dating, but he didn’t exactly have any other friends, and he really didn't want to sit alone.
It was early February, and Steve was picking at his cafeteria food, barely listening to the conversation Nancy and Jonathan were having. He was lost in his own thoughts, staring into space blankly.
Across the cafeteria, Eddie Munson was jumping onto a table and taunting several different cliques as he went on a long monologue about society and social norms that most students tended to tune out. Steve watched him with a small smile, pushing his food around his tray. Then, Eddie was throwing barbs at Hargrove, Tommy H, and Carol. Steve winced slightly, knowing the words probably applied to him too, but he couldn't help feeling that Eddie wasn’t exactly saying anything untrue about them.
Before he could tear his attention away, Eddie was turning to face him. Steve's eyes widened. He hadn't even said anything! He’d been laying low ever since their last run-in with the Upside Down, just trying to graduate. So why was Eddie putting his attention on him now?
Eddie jumped down from the table and sauntered over to where Steve was sitting, throwing a leg over the bench to straddle the spot next to him. “Harrington.”
Now that Eddie was so close, Steve could see a slight red tint to his eyes, and he relaxed a little. He was just high.
“Hey, Munson,” Steve replied, giving him a weak smile in response.
Most of the attention on Eddie had dispersed, but Steve could still feel the piercing gaze of Hargrove on the side of his face. That jackass just would not leave him alone, even if he was trying to avoid altercations for Max's sake.
Eddie leaned an elbow on the table to hold his head up with his hand. “How's the fall from grace treating you, my liege?”
Steve blinked. “Huh?”
Jonathan leaned over from where he was chatting with Nancy. “He’s calling you a king. Asking about how you're doing after everyone dropped you for Billy.”
Rolling his eyes, Eddie smirked. “With more dramatic flair than that, but yeah, essentially.”
“Oh.” Steve floundered, looking between Nancy and Jon as he tried to think of an answer. “Well, it’s been nice not having as much attention, I guess. Nothing all that interesting has happened to me.”
Nancy hid a snort behind her hand, turning to bury her face into Jonathan’s shoulder. Eddie raised a curious eyebrow but didn’t comment on her reaction.
“Surely the life of a king has to have some frivolities. Raging parties, swooning ladies, the like…”
Steve scrunched his nose. “Nah, man. My parents cut off my allowance after my last concussion, so I don’t exactly have the funds for that kind of thing anymore.” He didn’t know why he was confiding that kind of information in Eddie, but it wasn’t like he cared that much about what people thought of him anymore. Eddie could spread it around if he really wanted to. “I just babysit Nancy and Jon’s little brothers and their friends. I promise it’s nothing interesting.”
Smirking, Eddie tilted his head to the side. “I'm sure you could make anything interesting, Harrington. Especially looking like that.”
Steve blushed bright red from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck. Oh god. Was Eddie flirting with him? “Oh. Um, thank you! I'm sure you're pretty interesting too.”
That seemed to snap Eddie out of whatever weird flirty persona he had let settle over him. “Right. Good talk. I'm gonna go now. Have a good lunch, Steve.”
And then Eddie was gone, back to his table as he ranted at his friends with increasingly frantic gestures. Steve stared after him for a bit, biting his lip and trying to make sense of the feelings stirring in his chest. On the other side of the table, Nancy let out a pointed cough with a smug smirk.
“So…” She started. “Wanna tell us what that was all about?”
Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “You witnessed the exact same thing that I did, Nance. I don't have any insider information.”
Nancy giggled. “No, not that. I’m talking about how you blushed like a little schoolgirl when Eddie called you interesting. You wanna tell us about it?”
Shooting another look at Eddie’s table, Steve started to reply before he noticed that some of Eddie’s friends were looking at him. His eyes widened and he whipped back around. “I have no clue what you're talking about. Jon, back me up here.”
“Sorry, dude.” Jonathan winced with a sheepish shrug. “You were pretty red. I mean he did call you hot, so I guess I get it…”
Steve sighed and let his head drop to the table. “I really don’t appreciate the psychoanalysis, Nance. He came over here, talked to us, called the way I look interesting, and left. Sure, I may have gotten a little red, but he was leaning really close.”
Smirking, Nancy leaned over the table to flick the back of Steve’s head. “You’re wrong about one thing. He didn’t come over to talk to us. He only talked to you. I think he finds you more than just interesting.”
Standing up from the table abruptly, Steve shook his head. “We’re not talking about this. It’s not like it matters that much anyway. He was probably just trying to mess with me. I’ll see you guys later.” Steve grabbed his tray and walked off, trying and failing to stop himself from sneaking a glance at Eddie’s table.
Much to Steve’s surprise, Eddie was looking right back at him. When their eyes met, he smirked and waggled his fingers at Steve in a wave. Steve blushed, his eyes wide, and he stumbled, almost bumping into another student in the process.
#mira writes#post-season 2#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#stranger things#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#eddie munson x steve harrington#eddie x steve#drabble#fanfic#fanfiction#st
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Dipping my toes in the ‘oblivious Eddie has no functioning gaydar which results in mild miscommunication’ genre of the Steddie experience, hope you enjoy!
Ao3 extended version
“My, my, are my eyes deceiving me? Steve Harrington himself has graced these sinful halls?”
Instead of a sneer Eddie’s been expecting, Steve’s face lights up with a smile. He lifts his hand to wave at him with much more enthusiasm than expected. Which is… weird since they have maybe talked once when the guy picked up Eddie’s new freshmen from Hellfire. Well, almost as weird as meeting a Harington in a gay bar itself.
“Munson, hi!”
A little dumb-founded, Eddie waves back weakly, his eyes catching the sight of Robin Buckley at the bar behind them. Ah, so there’s the reason Harrington’s here.
“You’re here as an ally, I presume.”
“Uhm, yeah I guess so?” Steve pouts, confused, before smiling again. “You too, then?”
“Sure, let’s say that.”
“Hey, you should sit with us,” Harrington grins as if that’s actually a good idea. Before Eddie manages to think of an excuse, he’s being dragged towards Buckley by the sleeve. “Come on.”
“Munson,” Robin nods at him in greeting, something akin to a mischievous smirk on her face. Why, he doesn’t begin to understand.
“You look good, by the way,” a deep voice whispers into his ear as they set off towards the tables and Eddie has to do everything for his soul not to leave his body. Steve… is being way friendlier than expected. But that’s what it is, he has to remind himself before it gets too dangerous, just guys being dudes.
The ‘us’ in question turns out to be more than just the bizarre Harrington-and-Buckley duo. There’s Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers and some tall guy with the best hair he’s seen, not counting Harrington of course, bless his hair-sprayed soul. They don’t seem all that surprised he’s here at all which - fair enough, but also that he’s here at this table and that he doesn’t know how to explain. Nancy Wheeler, though, ever the enigma keeps shooting him loaded glances. He’s pretty sure she sniffed out his embarrassing crush on, ugh, Steve Harrington and she’s- Jealous maybe? Probably? As if there is a universe where he, Eddie Munson, poses a threat to someone like Nancy fucking Wheeler.
Steve sits himself closest to Eddie, maybe because he’s feeling guilty - as he should be - about throwing him into a table full of basically-strangers or maybe for a different, Harrington-unexplainable reason. The point is, he’s close, Eddie can smell his aftershave and cigarettes and it’s the best and worst thing that’s happened to him.
He keeps talking, too, asking Eddie questions about DnD (and isn’t that a head-scratcher in itself) and what conditioner he’s using because he really likes his hair (as if Steve wasn’t the embodiment of every shampoo commercial ever made). The gin-and-tonic Eddie’s been sipping must’ve been stronger than he thought because he swears he hears Steve saying something like ‘I don’t know, I think you’re really pretty’ at one point.
Eddie is starting to wonder if Harrington, perhaps, has been replaced with a pod person.
There’s a few more attempts at small talk from Steve but Eddie’s too confused and trying so hard to not be hopeful because a second edition of a pathetic crush on a straight dude (Steve, his mind supplies helpfully) is going to be too painful. Harrington seems kind of down afterwards, sliding off his chair and towards the bar which leaves Eddie with an infamous Buckley glare. Followed by an aggravating assault to his shin.
“Ow, Jesus, what the fuck is your problem?”
“My problem?” Robin is quick to retort. “What’s your problem? I thought you had a crush on him! It’s frankly kind of fucking obvious.”
Okay, whoa, rude.
“I don’t,” Eddie sneers back but falters when she levels him with a blank stare. “Fine, I do. Whatever. Way to kick a man when he’s down.”
“Dingus, he’s been all over you for the last hour. He’s been flirting like crazy and you, for some reason, keep shooting him down, what the hell?”
“But-” But he’s straight. Right? He turns to see Steve at the bar and - oh, there’s some guy with curly hair touching Steve’s arm and Steve’s smiling and blushing and- “What?”
That won’t do.
“Go get your man,” Robin says, practically shoving him off his stool to emphasize her point. Eddie scrambles from the floor, ignores the intense looks from the rest of the table and marches towards the bar.
“I’m coming, Stevie.”
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve harrington x eddie munson#stranger things#st fanfic#ficlet#my writing
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You expect me to believe that Eddie Munson, freak of Hawkins High, heard that King Steve himself was selling ice cream in a dumb little sailor costume, and didn’t go to see for himself? Steve’s fall from grace would have been the only news worth knowing for the other students, especially the ones that were without doubt in the firing line of the rich kids and jocks.
But if Eddie turned up at Scoops Ahoy one day with the full intention of making fun of him, only to turn around at the door as soon as he caught sight of the shorts because god damn, then thats his own business.
#steddie#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#steve harrington#st fanfic#steve x eddie#headcanon#steve stranger things#steve and eddie#stranger things#steddie fic#scoops ahoy#babygirl steve harrington#seth writes
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do something with king steve who secretly likes female/shy/reader
hope u like it xoxo — the one where king steve keeps his best girl a secret (shy!fem!r, secret relationship, fluff, 1.2k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
“Boo!”
You jump when a figure appears suddenly behind the door of your opened locker. They’re wearing bell bottoms and a sparkly clip in their strawberry curls. Carol Perkins giggles when her attempts to scare you work. Tommy Hagan follows just behind her, laughing louder until his freckled face scrunches together.
The only reassuring thing about seeing both of them together is knowing Steve isn’t too far behind. He’s got his tongue in his cheek, and his arms crossed over his chest, visibly unamused. “What are you guys— three?” he scoffs, pushing the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows.
“Yeah, three inches deep in your mom,” Tommy retorts with a boyish chuckle.
Carol squints her made-up eyes at him. She deadpans, “That’s not the comeback you think it is, Hagan.”
You turn to Steve with a panicked glimmer in your eye. You’re so used to being the butt of all their jokes that being in their proximity now fills you with something close to ice-cold dread. You peer at the boy beside you with pinched-together brows, knowing he’s the only one who cares about you past cheating off your homework.
“What’s going on?” you wonder quietly, for only him to hear.
Steve grins, brows raised and eyes twinkling. “My house is gonna be empty tonight. ‘Cause, you know, my dad’s got a work conference or whatever, so… No parents. Big house—”
“A total recipe for disaster,” Tommy interjects with a laugh.
“You’re throwing a party?” you ask, voice trembling. There’s little more that scares you than crowds — well, crowds and loud music and drunk people. Parties were never your scene. Steve knows that better than anyone.
He corrects you quickly, stammering over himself because he never wants you to feel uncomfortable. “No! No, not a party. It’s gonna be lowkey. Just a— a get-together, you know? Just the four of us.”
“Ooh,” Carol croons from behind you. “So no priss?”
“Shut up, Carol,” Steve snaps.
“I’m just used to you following her around like a lost puppy, that’s all.” Carol and Tommy laugh about it together. ‘Cause that’s all they’re really good at — making stupid jokes and cackling like supervillains.
Steve rolls his eyes with an annoyed huff and turns his attention back to you. You take it from him wholly, every ounce of his focus.
There was something ethereal in your vagueness — in how softly you spoke and how pretty you looked when you weren’t even trying. You’re quiet and mysterious and hidden. Steve desperately wants to be the one that deciphers you.
“Are you in?” he asks in a low, honeyed tone.
Your gaze falls to the tile. “I don’t know…” you murmur.
“C’mon,” he croons and steps closer to you. His sneakers enter your vision until you look up at him again, peering at him from beneath your lashes. His grin is pink and pretty and lopsided. “Don’t leave me with these assholes all night.”
“Dick,” you hear Tommy scoff from behind you. He sounds much further away than that ‘cause all you can see now is Steve. And his pretty hair and his pretty eyes and his stupid pretty smile.
You cave instantly.
You never really stood a chance, anyway. Not with the way he was looking at you.
“I’ll think about it,” you mumble and turn back to your locker. You switch your English textbook for a History one and cradle it in your arms. Steve grins, knowing he’s forgotten his on purpose just so he could sit next to you all period.
“Good,” the boy hums.
“We’re finally wearing Wallflower down,” Carol muses, giggling to herself.
Tommy knocks you too hard on the shoulder. “You’ll be one of us in no time,” he grins.
You grimace as they walk off down the hall. That’s the last thing you’ve ever wanted. The thought of there being an ounce of similarities between you and them makes your stomach ache.
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Steve tells you, smiling quietly when you nod.
He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and passes you a folded-up piece of paper. He doesn’t look back at you when he follows his friends down the corridor. You don’t open it until he’s gone.
West wing chem lab, he’s written in chicken scratch. Come find me.
—————
The hallway at the west end of the school is dim and empty. The floors are untouched, and the lockers are sparingly opened. The air is thick and noticeably stale. You open the door to the old chemistry room with a high-pitched squeak that sounds like something out of a horror movie.
Steve waits for you in the dark classroom, lit only by the natural sunlight streaming in through translucent curtains. He sits at a table in front of the window and toys with the burner at the end of it. He turns the thin blue flame on and off and on again, silently wishing he’d plucked a cigarette from Tommy before he left.
His honey eyes flit to yours when you walk into the room. He grins at the soft smirk on your bitten lips. “What’s that look for, huh?” he teases, turning off the burner and sliding off the desk.
You shrug. “Nothin’…”
“I missed you.”
You scoff when he wraps his arms around you. His wide palms smooth over your back. “You just saw me.”
“It doesn’t count when I’m with Tommy and Carol. I need you all to myself…”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs lowly, ducking down to kiss you. His plush lips lock with yours, tasting of nicotine and chewing gum — a near-lethal concoction. He smiles against your mouth when you melt further into him. He parts from you with a gentle smack.
“They’re starting to like me, I think,” you mumble, smoothing your hands over his chest. “Tommy and Carol.”
“I think so, too.”
“It’s awful.”
“Absolutely disgusting,” he concurs, grinning wide when you giggle.
“But, you know, maybe we wouldn’t have to hide anymore,” you stammer, gaze falling when it becomes too hard to hold his. “If they don’t think I’m, like, the lamest person on the planet.”
Steve’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, that’s why you don’t want them to know about us, right? ‘Cause you’re King Steve, and I’m… fish bait,” you conclude with a forced laugh.
“No,” he answers instantly. “What? No. That’s not— That’s not why.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t want them to know about us because they’re assholes,” Steve confesses. “I mean, they were awful to Nancy when we were together. ‘Cause they’re miserable, and they hate when other people are actually nice. I just don’t want them to… ruin anything, that’s all…”
You muss with a rogue thread at the neckline of his sweater and smile quietly to yourself. “I thought you were scared because you accidentally fell in love with the Wallflower instead of the Prom Queen.”
Steve scoffs. “I didn’t accidentally fall in love with you, first of all.”
“No?” you murmur, brow quirking in disbelief.
“No, it was very intentional.”
“I don’t believe that,” you argue with a lighthearted chuckle. You think it’s easier than saying, I don’t believe you because there’s no way you love someone like me because you want to.
Steve’s palms squeeze your sides reassuringly, like he can hear all the mean thoughts swirling in your head. “Well, you didn’t make it any easier on me,” he tells you, a crooked smile tugging at his pink lips. “You started talkin’ all smart in Ms. Click’s class, and I started melting.”
“That’s when you knew you liked me?” you scoff. “After I gave a presentation about geopolitical tensions in China?”
He exhales sharply through his nose, licking his lips with heavy eyelids. “See what I mean? That’s hot.”
“God, you’re such a boy.”
#published by bug#steve harrington x reader#stranger things x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x y/n#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfiction#st drabbles#stevie drabble#event: bug turns one
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Info About the 80's As Provided By My Dad, Who Graduated High School in 1987:
No boxers, no briefs, ONLY tighty-whiteys.
The Satanic Panic was something discussed primarily by adults to try and sway more voters toward Reagan.
EVERYONE had their ears pierced. Men, women, everyone. My Dad still wears his little diamond stud sometimes.
Crop tops and tube socks were a popular combo for high school and college guys.
Long hair was masculine and having decent hygiene was a big deal.
You took a girl to the roller rink on the first date to show off and then to the drive-in on the second date if she wanted to make out.
Here are some good metal bands to include in your fics: Judas Priest, Queensryche, Slayer, Ozzy, Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Metallica, Saxon, Scorpions, Ratt, Quiet Riot, Joan Jett, Pat Benetar, and Alice Cooper.
Vinyl cost between $1 and $4 on average.
Minimum wage was around $3.50.
Jorts for men. Good fuckin' lord the cutoff jorts for men...
The stoners knew everyone and everything.
If you're writing a fic or making art and have any questions for Mark about your Historical Accuracy, please feel free to send me an ask and I'll text him.
He thinks this is fun.
#stranger things#netflix stranger things#the 80's#80's aesthetic#back to the 80's#rock and roll#metal music#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#st fanfic#harringrove#billy hargrove#steve harrington#historical accuracy#stranger things shitpost#stranger things meme
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this is for the girlies (or anyone) that sometimes forget to eat or drink for a while until they feel really sick, and need a personal stevie to force feed them sandwiches.
robin and eds had just left steve’s house, leaving you both there alone. and once you told them goodbye you were hit with a wave of nausea, along with a crippling headache. you staggered into steves kitchen whilst he was cleaning up the board game in the living room and leaned over the sink. trying to breathe deeply in the hopes it would make you feel less like you were going to pass out. steve came in, and was going to pick you up and spin you in his arms when he saw your position.
“baby, whats wrong? you okay? what happened?” he asked, worry lacing his voice.
you turn around to answer him, but you don’t feel like you are able to form words. thankfully, steve can tell enough by how pale you look, like all the color has drained from your body.
“jesus christ baby, woah, sit-sit down” he said, picking you up and placing you onto the kitchen island.
your head felt heavier now, and you slumped over onto his shoulder. he attempted to ask you more questions, to which he only received a whimper from you. he needed to get you water but he couldn’t leave you unsupported, so he carried you into the living room and lowered you onto the couch.
“ill be right back, babydoll.” he said, mostly to himself before he performed the quickest water-run known to man. coming back and propping you up slightly and putting the straw you your lips, “drink.”
you did as you were told, and after sucking on the straw and lazily staring at him until the entire glass was empty, you took a deep breath.
“what the hell was that, baby? what happened?” he asked softly.
“i dunno, jus’ don’ feel good” you replied.
“yeah? what have you eaten today?” he asked.
you stared at him as you recalled your day. and slowly he watched your eyes turn from contemplation to guilt.
“baby,” he warned, “what have you eaten today.”
you sunk into the sofa behind you.
“i forgot, stevie.” you frowned at him, and he sighed.
“have you had any water?”
“you just gave me some!”
“i mean before that, doofus.”
you shook your head no, pouting moodily at him and lying back onto the couch. you felt tears well up in your eyes, everything seemed to be much bigger than it was. you were very embarrassed; and in your hungry, dehydrated brain, steve was very disappointed in you, and could not believe his girlfriend was so stupid as to forget to eat or drink. this was obviously very much not the case, and steve did not think that about you. as the flood came, you attempted to hide it, but he tool your hands and began soothing you instantly.
“hey, hey, look, its okay. you’re okay. shh.” he brushed the sweaty hair out of your face, “need you to lie down while I get you somethin’ to eat, okay? youre probably tired too, honey.”
you nodded tearily, and let him lie you back down. he went into the kitchen and made you a nice toasted sandwich just the way you like it, with a glass of water and a coke. he came back and sat next to you, giving you the food and setting the drinks onto the coffee table. you ate quickly, and were more than halfway through your sandwich when you looked up at him and realized how much better you felt. he raised his eyebrows at you, and you giggled.
“you feel better?” he asked. which only reduced you into a fit of more giggles. he shook his head and pulled you into his lap, whispering into your ear, “you drive me crazy, lady.” he laughed. “your hangry-ness needs to be psychologically evaluated.”
you stuck your tongue out at him and finished your meal before turning back around to him and wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your noses together.
“i’m sorry, thank you stevie.” you said, and kissed him softly.
“it’s okay lovey,” he took your hand into his, “no big deal, just gotta remember to eat, goofball.” he replied.
“why’d i do that when i have a perfectly good personal chef and doctor here?” you said, receiving an eye roll.
“alright sleeping beauty, lets get you a nap. and then all your needs will be full.” he said, taking your hand and guiding you into hie bedroom.
“well… not all of them.”
you received yet another eye roll, but this time it was accompanied by a deep scarlet blush.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington smut#steve stranger things#stranger things#steve harrington fluff#steve x you#steve x reader#st smut#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x fem reader#steve harrington x fem!reader
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The tile floor is disgusting.
Not Starcourt disgusting, but disgusting all the same. Grime build-up colors the grout lines, the back of his head is damp from condensation that drips down the sink he’s resting against, and there’s a damp spot beneath his left calf that he sincerely hopes is just the aftermath of someone washing their hands. A single lightbulb hangs in the center of the ceiling, dim but not flickering.
Thank God, it’s not flickering.
It’s not the place to have a meltdown— he knows it’s not— but rationality is just the latest in the ever- growing list of things fighting the Upside Down took from him. After all, the dingy basement bathroom of a stranger’s house party is better than the densely populated living room of a stranger’s house party.
He wishes Robin was with him, but he can’t bring himself to tear her away from the first real party she’s enjoyed. It’s not her fault that crowds set him on edge these days, or that he can’t stand the feeling of unfamiliar bodies pressing against him anymore, or that small talk about how humid it’s been lately makes him want to rip his hair out because how can anyone possibly give a fuck about the weather when the world nearly ended six months ago? No one outside of the group he’s come with gets it and he wonders if even in that group, even with the people he’s bled with, if he’s an outlier.
No one saw him sneak down here.
He’s not expecting anyone to come looking for him.
He should’ve known better.
“Steve?” A voice whispers from outside the door. “Steve, it’s me. Open the door.”
Robin. Of course.
Steve drags a hand down his face, hovering near his nose where his fingers tremble at the bridge, and lets out a deep exhale before reaching over and unlocking the door.
Wordlessly, he rights himself against the sink again as Robin locks the door behind her and sits cross-legged next to him. Silence sits with them, a welcome guest now with Robin’s comforting presence, her head tipping to lean on his shoulder and his falling to rest on hers.
They sit like this for long moments, silence and the scent of Robin’s strawberry shampoo grounding him in the present. There’s no emergency, no threat, not when Robin is safe and clean and warm right next to him.
Finally, he breaks the stillness. “You don’t have to sit here, you can go back to the party. It’s fucking gross down here.”
“It’s way more gross upstairs without you there.”
“Oh c’mon, everyone’s up there. Eddie, Nancy, Argyle, Jonathan. Vickie.” He looks down and grins, one eyebrow quirked up.
Robin rolls her eyes playfully and gently elbows him in the side. “Shut up, oh my God. She’ll be there when we go back up or I can call her tomorrow. Besides, she’s with Nancy and Jonathan looking for you.”
“Looking for me? Fuck, I didn’t think anyone would notice—”
Robin pats his thigh and cuts him off. “It’s fine, they all know you’re okay but we just didn’t wanna leave you alone in the Brain Tornado.”
“Brain Tornado?” Steve asks.
“Argyle’s words, not mine. But it’s fitting, don’t you think?”
Steve contemplates for a few seconds, considering the years worth of fighting and hoping and living that spin him around in untethered and unpredictable circles.
“Yeah, yeah it is.” Steve sighs. “How’d you know where I was anyways?”
“I know you.” Robin says, simple and matter of fact, as if it’s not the best response he could’ve gotten. She readjusts her position to stretch out both legs in front of her and Steve reminds himself that they’re both in jeans and not Scoops uniforms.
“I just don’t know how to fucking relate to people anymore, Rob. And the crowds, if something were to happen and I couldn’t get to the bat in my trunk fast enough, or get to you or Nancy or Eddie—”
“Hey, it’s okay, we’re all okay,” Robin rubs her thumb in soothing circles into his bicep with her opposite hand. “We’re safe. We won. It’s gone.”
She says this like an oath and Steve wants to swear to it. It’s just hard.
“I know. But it’s still… I don’t know. This huge thing happened and no one else knows, so we’re in this sea of people who have no idea we all nearly died six months ago? And they look at me like I’m still Party King Steve Harrington when that guy did eat it three years ago.” His heart begins to slow and he sighs, less anxious and more confused.
“I’m not gonna pretend I know what to say to that because you’re right, but there are at least five other people here right now who get it. And we’re the lucky sons of bitches, getting to know the Real Steve Harrington anyways.”
Steve can’t help the delicate thing that blooms in his chest when he’s reminded of the odd little family he’s built around himself. Or, in some cases, that forcibly built themselves around him.
“Besides,” Robin smirks and Steve immediately knows what’s coming, telepathic communication and all. “Some people upstairs really like the Real Steve Harrington. And he might be going a little insane looking for you outside with Argyle.”
“Shut up, oh my God.” He mimics her tone from earlier and drapes an arm around her shoulders, his voice softening. “We’ll go up in a few minutes?”
He doesn’t need to say it. Steve knows Robin hears what he means.
Just a few more minutes with you, and then I can face the world.
happy (sorta belated) birthday to @stobinesque! I know I already sent this so it's not technically late but the last couple days have been a little wild so I'm just late to posting. <333
#steve harrington & robin buckley#steve harrington#robin buckley#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#st fic#steddie#myblurbs#platonic soulmatism my beloved#stobin
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Autumn of 86. Robin is working at the most boring record store of all Hawkins to save up for escaping that hellhole where she lives in, where the weirdest shit happens all the time (kids coming back to life, classmates killed by chemical leaks, another gas leak that makes the mall blow up, a murderer from Pennhurst breaking free and going in a teenager killing spree, rumours of satanic cults...). Thank god she is working there with his best friend Eddie "love at first sight is an illusion" Munson, who makes her days less painful, and who, right now, is flirting with this all beaten up guy she has never seen before.
She wants to interrupt them, but the way they are talking it is so unlike Eddie. Staring, mildly blushing, soft voices and the strangest interaction going on there when he is purchasing the first cassette he grabs and he is not even paying attention to what he is buying because this new guy can't take his eyes off of Eddie. It even takes him a while to reply to Eddie when he asks him if he wants anything else.
Robin could swear that guy wanted to say something different from his actual answer. "No. No, yeah, that's–that's all. Thanks."
And Eddie half smiles, looks down. "Yeah. Great, here is your change, man. Enjoy your Christmas Carol tape."
"What? Oh, yeah. I will. I guess," and the guy smiles, and it looks painful because his lip is split. He bites his bottom lip and looks away. "See you around."
"Yeah. See you around."
And they—they just stare.
It takes him a few seconds before he purses his lips, nods, and leaves the establishment. And what has Robin standing there, and not bashing at Eddie the second that guy closes the door after him is the fact that she could swear that this guy was... was about to cry.
And Robin is a lot of things, but above all she is curious.
And smart.
And she is stubborn enough to find her answers.
She indeed teases Eddie about him gaping at the guy like a mad man. And she expects pushback, she really does. Eddie always gives her some resistance of her teasing but when Eddie says "I don't know, Robs, I feel like I have seen him before," she believes him.
So Robin does what she does best and finds the guy.
She follows him for a while, and thinks she is doing a great job at the grocery store, following him from the end of the aisle, but she loses him for a second and runs to find him again. She runs into him him as soon as she turns the aisle, face to face.
"Sorry, hi," he says.
"Hi," Robin parrots.
And they stare at each other.
Robin is good reading people. She always has been. And she doesn't really know what she is seeing in this guy's eyes but whatever it is is warm. And familiar.
"Are you okay?" he asks. And she is a bit lost in her own thoughts to reply right away. It takes her ten seconds to realize that he was asking because they actually crashed against each other. They were so close. He was holding her by the elbows.
She immediately steps back.
"Yeah, sorry. I am so clumsy sometimes, my coordination is not what you may say, sharp," she explains rapidly and awkwardly.
And the guy smiles, and it is the kind of smile that reaches the eyes. And she smiles too.
"I bet you stand out for some other qualities," he chuckles. "You seem smart."
"I am. I think," she adds. She can't realize why she is so disoriented.
"My name is Steve. Steve Harrington."
"Robin Buckley."
And he does this thing with his face, almost like a flinch, a recognition. It is brief but it is there and Robin has seen it, and there is something so weird with him.
Steve drops his gaze, and the weirdness of this situation hits Robin. Why would someone introduce himself just by randomly crashing into someone in the grocery store? What was that familiarity feeling? Why couldn't she just let him go? She followed him there, for fuck's sake.
"Do I know you?" she asks.
Steve just looks at her again, and stares. There is this gleam in his pupils, eyes almost wet, and Robin could swear that it looked so much like hope. For what, she doesn't know.
"I don't think so," and his words sound like a lie.
"Oh. I am–I am sorry, um, this is weird. It's just that I—I have this—"
"Gnawing feeling?" Steve finished.
And yes, that was exactly what she wanted to say.
There is something that Robin feels like it's trapped in the air. Something strange and beautiful, and caged somewhere, fighting with all its forces to break free, but she can't identify it.
"It's okay," he says. "It'll go away. It always does."
Steve smiles at her and it is sad. Robin is starting to get mad, and weirdly emotional and she doesn't know where it comes from and it's infuriating not to know. Her voice kind of wobbles when she speaks again.
"You speak like a total dingus."
Steve laughs. Suddenly and bright and honest, and she laughs too.
"I do. Yeah, I do."
Something is off, but it feels so right. Robin just can't place it. And it must shows in her face because Steve says, "it's okay."
And it is how he says it, like he knows what she is going through, but how could he possibly know.
"See you around, Buckley," he says, so affectionate that aches to hear.
He leaves her there, standing in the middle of the aisle, organizing her own thoughts.
Facts: she knows him. Her body, her heart, her soul reacted at his presence, that much is true. Eddie knows him too. But they just can't remember him.
So many questions, so may things to discover.
Robin smiles.
Robin is a lot of things, but above all, she is curious.
And smart.
And stubborn enough to find her answers.
#inklessletter#fic#stranger things fic#fanfic#ficlet#robin buckley#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#st fic
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