Feyre setting a clear boundary that she wants nothing to do with that nasty man from spring, and Rhys going down to SC himself to gag the loser is one of my fave plot lines in acofas.
It’s not Feyre’s job to make peace with her abuser, or set aside her healing to make Lucien happy.
Irdgaf about “Be happy, Feyre”, he’s still a loser who manipulated and abused her. He deserves more lashing if I’m being honest; The pity party he’s throwing himself post acowar does not warrant a potential redemption arch that his stans so desperately want.
Noticed how no one was shocked when Nesta told Bryce that Feyre was the perfect mother like of course she is. Nyx is the most blessed son in the series
The moment that will haunt me forever is Eddie standing in the back of Buck's hospital room, exhausted and overwhelmed to the point that he physically cannot answer Christopher's questions. That moment when Christopher asks about the tubes and he just shakes his head in frustration because he just can't. He can barely stand to look at Buck, he certainly can't bring himself to explain all of the machines that are Buck's only lifeline because he can hardly bring himself to face that reality at all.
This poor man is so drained—from staying close at the hospital, from arguing with a stubborn kid who's not supposed to be there, but who deserves to be, from trying to take care of the rest of the team, from trying to pretend he's not falling apart.
This man. This beautiful, loving man—who would do anything at all for his son, who is exceptional at communicating when it comes to Christopher—he couldn't bring himself to do more than shake his head in frustration when his son asked this question.
The amount of pain and fear that implies in Eddie is utterly heartbreaking.
THE MASTERLIST
SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS,
287 MILES FROM HOME.
Steve picked you up a few doors down from your house at six o’clock in the morning the next day.
Hawkins was still asleep, the whole town nursing a sleepiness that only came from a party that everyone had joined in on the night before. The morning air smelled like old bonfire smoke, the leftover fizz from fireworks and the sky was lilac and peach, the air hazy.
You didn’t say much when you walked towards his car, the BMW idling by the park on the corner of your street. You’d told him to park away from your house, to let your aunt sleep through what would’ve been an awkward goodbye.
You left a note on your bed instead, one that you knew she’d understand. After all, she’d been there through everything. Hawkins wasn’t home and you were never supposed to have ended up there.
Steve hopped out and put your rucksack in the trunk for you and when you dropped yourself into the passenger seat beside him, he smiled and handed you a couple of cassettes to pick from. The windows were down, his tank was full and the height of summer was creeping into the car. Everything smelled like cut grass and coffee and boy.
When you chanced a glance at your driver, he looked the way you felt, like he was at peace with what was about to happen, like it was all finally okay.
His cheek was still angry, pink and lilac turning to blue and red overnight and he licked his split lip a little self consciously upon feeling your eyes on him.
You thought he might tell you to quit it, to stop staring but Steve was soft around the edges, maybe from sleep, maybe from the relief you both felt when you approached the edge of town. The sign that told you both you were leaving Hawkins edged closer as Steve drove, the mocking “come back soon!” staring at you both.
It felt like a challenge, it felt like a dare.
Steve spoke then, the engine thrumming underneath you both as he flicked honey brown eyes towards you.
“You sure?”
You stared at the road ahead before finding the boy’s gaze, a quiet determination coming over you. You think he saw it, or maybe he felt it - like the air around you both changed - because he smiled, a little crooked because of his cut but it made you grin back.
The sense of adventure overpowered the unknown, the thrill of something new and all of the what ifs made your heart beat a little faster and for the first time in the longest time, you felt like you weren’t sleepwalking through the day.
Morning had hardly broken and the sky was still a watercolour wash of pastel, but you were wide awake.
You nodded and Steve’s grin was blinding, summer and sun in a smile.
You drove as the sun came up, until the skies turned from peach to blue, the air growing warmer and the view outside your window had less houses. Steve hit the highway and picked up some speed, windows still down and the wind rushing at your faces as you left behind the old water tower, the trailer park on the outskirts of town, Mr Lumson’s old farm.
Hawkins led out into open fields, green and gold and yellow, flat land broken up by old barns, forgotten tractors, a paddock of horses and cows. The road took you through other towns, some smaller, some bigger, gas stations with only one working pump, a vendor on the side of the road selling fruit and homemade iced tea.
It all felt a little surreal, like you were daydreaming in the best kind of way. Because the wind threaded through your fingers as you held your hand out of the open window, it nipped at your open palm and you could smell the fresh air, the pine trees. Because you were sitting in the front seat of Steve Harrington’s car and he was driving you far away from home. You weren't even sure where you were going, you didn’t think Steve really knew either, but everything you loved was packed into the duffle bag in the boy’s trunk - and there wasn’t much.
Some clothes, a few mixtapes, a few half empty toiletries in a make up bag you’d taken from underneath your aunt’s bathroom sink. A tin of pencils, your sketchbook, a few rings - all gold, some important, some not. All the money that you had.
It wasn’t like the boy was a stranger, he wasn’t, not really. No one could feel like a stranger in a town like Hawkins, it was too small, people were too close and someone’s grandma always knew someone else’s cousin. You’d grown up with Steve, not by his side, but in the same circle - he’d been in all your classes from kindergarten to high school, sharing friends and the same drug dealer.
You were friendly with Robin Buckley, your aunt and you lived a few doors down from Nancy Wheeler, you babysat for the Sinclair siblings before Lucas moved up to high school and you were both invited to the same parties. You knew he worked in Family Video, you knew he’d chosen not to go to college after graduation. You knew his parents were always gone, you knew he was softer than he seemed and you knew that the reason for his back eye was most likely his father.
You knew he kissed like he wanted to steal the breath from your lungs, like he was trying to tell you all his secrets.
And maybe, despite not knowing his favourite colour, his favourite food, his favourite song, you had the feeling you were more similar than you ever would’ve guessed, that you both shared that awful pulsing ache in your chest that there wasn’t a home for either of you anywhere.
So when Steve pulled into a parking lot just off of the highway, somewhere near the edge of Illinois, you didn’t hesitate to nod when he asked if you were hungry, to follow him into the old diner with its neon sign and pink walls. It was nearing eight o’clock and the world was a little more alive now, the roads busier, the diner smelling like coffee and maple bacon.
You found it easy to slide into a booth across from the boy, easier to let your gaze meet his, small smiles playing on both of your mouths. You ordered a tea, Steve a coffee and a plate of pancakes each and when the waitress scratched down your choices, she clicked her tongue, smiled and called you both a ‘cute little pair.’
No one really spoke until there was caffeine in your systems, bones warmed by hot drinks and the drizzle of syrup that you licked from lips and forks. It was a nice kind of silence whilst you ate, the kind you were sure you could get used to, the kind that could carry you across states, across the country.
It was even nicer when Steve wiped his mouth with his napkin, tapped your foot with his underneath the table and raised a brow in question.
“So, where d’you wanna go?”
“Don’t you have somewhere in mind?” you asked him. This was his plan after all, he’d been the one to ask you, to invite you along.
Steve shook his head slow, shoulders shrugging as if the destination had never occurred to him.
You sipped the last of your tea, watching the boy over the rim of the cup and he could tell you were taking your time to think. There was an ache in your chest that felt like the answer, that felt a little like the idea of home.
“California,” you said, voice softer than you wanted it to be. “Carmel-by-the-Sea.”
The sounds of the diner filled the silence between you two as Steve considered your response. The jingle of the cash drawer, spoons stirring in sugar, the pop of the grill behind the open kitchen window.
But then the boy nodded and took another sip of his coffee. There was a soft sincerity colouring his voice, his pretty features, when he asked you: “What’s there?”
You felt a little embarrassed, so you looked at your almost empty plate, sticky syrup on the cheap ceramic, a quarter of your last pancake that Steve had helped you eat.
“The ocean,” you mumbled, nose scrunched as you chanced a glance back up at him. “Never seen it before.”
You didn’t want to tell him that you hadn’t actually left Hawkins since you moved there when you were three years old. You thought that maybe Steve knew that, that he could tell, that he could guess. Because you were living with your aunt, a woman who didn’t really care, but the only family member left in your life that cared enough. Holiday’s weren’t a thing.
“There’s a lot of ocean before Carmel-by-the-Sea,” Steve smiled, a little teasing, a little curious. “What’s there?” he asked again.
Your lips twisted, a downturn of your mouth that you tried to hide because he had figured you out way too quickly. This stranger who wasn't a stranger, this boy who wasn’t really a friend. He was your last kiss though, your companion for the next who knew how many weeks.
But still, it was day one and you were still guarding your secrets, yourself. So you shrugged as if you didn’t know the answer, like there wasn’t one to give and Steve was smart enough not to press. You turned to him instead, sticky fork in your hand, wielded like a weapon that you needed to protect yourself with.
You thought of all the questions you wanted to ask him and they rattled in your head, in your chest, making you feel panicked. You didn’t want to upset him, you didn’t want to cross any lines that hadn’t been set yet.
Why are you leaving town? Does your parents know you’re gone? Do they care? Did your dad hit you? Why did you kiss me? Are we gonna talk about that?
“Why me?” you asked instead and you cringed a little when it came out like an argument, voice a little too hard and harsh.
But Steve just smiled again, fingertip tracing around the rim of his now empty mug and you were almost sure that there was a faint flush of pink high on his cheeks. He shrugged a little shyly before he flicked honey brown eyes up to yours. There it was again, that look, that unbearably soft sincere look, like he wasn’t about to judge you.
“You’re the only other person I know with nothin’ to lose.”
You were a little speechless.
Another half shrug, a lopsided smile that matched the morning sun that was rising in the window behind him.
“The same as me.”
Something in your chest stuttered. Maybe your heart stopped, just for a half a second, maybe less, because something skipped a beat at the realisation that the boy knew you more than you thought he did. It’s why you told him yes, why you nodded your head in that strangers kitchen the night before, lips a breath away from Steve’s, both of you lit up in red, green and gold.
Because with a dad that wasn’t around when you were born, a twenty something stoner with three jobs and no time for a kid, you weren’t sure you knew what it was like to have something that you’d miss when it was gone. It only took three years for your mom to feel the same way, bored of her daughter and the life in a small town in Virginia. You weren’t even sure which town.
Too young to remember it as a home, your mom had dropped you with her sister in Hawkins, an aunt that had no time for a kid, but took you in nonetheless. You were sure there had been a false promise of a quick return. Your mom telling your aunt that she just needed a minute, just some time to get her head straight, didn’t she understand? You were too much hard work. You were difficult.
She told the other woman a week, two tops. And then you were celebrating your fourth birthday, your fifth, your sixth and every one after that with your aunt who never wanted you but never had the heart to say. She bought you a cake from the bakery on Main every year, bought you a new book wrapped in red paper and some cash in a card.
And every year you smiled and thanked her, brushed a kiss across her cheek and took a slice of cake to your room, where you watched the sprinkles melt and colour the white icing, where you pushed the dollars into the tin underneath your mattress.
It had never been enough to buy a car, or a plane ticket. It wasn’t enough to take you where you wanted to go, not even close. But it could help you buy gas and food, maybe a motel room here and there. ‘Cause now you had Steve and that was a statement that you were sure you’d never get used to saying.
You smiled at the boy, a soft laugh leaving your lips in a humourless huff and you nodded, pushing the last square of pancake around your plate.
“Yeah,” you agreed, “nothing to lose.”
“Do your parents know that you’re doing… this?” you gestured between the two of you, glanced out of the windows to his maroon coloured car sitting in the dusty parking lot. You were already both two hours from home, maybe more. “Do they know you’re gone?”
Steve grinned and you could tell it was sharp, without any happiness. The boy sat opposite you with his still sleep mussed hair, big brown eyes and nothing more than a similar sized rucksack in his trunk, right beside yours.
He thought of his room, empty and blue, a couple of books taken from his shelves and a pillow from his bed - the flattest one, old and in a chequered case, smelling like a home that was only really a house.
The kitchen was empty when he left, the living room too, the only framed photos were shots taken in a studio, white backgrounds, pressed shirts, his father’s cold hand on his shoulder. Steve stopped smiling in the third one.
He’d locked the door, stared at the key as he stood on his porch and toyed with the idea of taking it off of the chain it shared with the key to his car. He could post it, leave it on the doormat in the hall for his parents to come home to. He didn’t know when they’d return. He didn’t know when he’d come back, if he would at all.
Steve didn’t know where he was going.
He posted his resignation into the letterbox of Family Video on the way to your house, slowed down when he drove through Robin’s street, wondering if the upset would be worth getting to give her one last hug. He’d spent the night before on the phone to her, hours and hours of frustration and a little anger, upset and unshed tears before he finally got his best friend to understand.
She made him promise he’d come back. She begged him. So Steve nodded even though the girl couldn’t see. He swallowed the lump in his throat and told her yes, that he’d come back, that he promised.
Steve really hoped he didn’t break it.
He thought about telling you that his parents wouldn’t care, that his parent’s probably wouldn’t even notice. The landline could go unanswered for weeks on end and his parent’s wouldn’t think to get an early flight home. He could drive to Europe and back, take some trains, some boats, swim across the English Channel and return home before they noticed he was gone. But all of that sounded a little sad, and Steve reckoned there was plenty of time for sadness later.
So for now, he shrugged, waved a hand dismissively and tugged his wallet from his jean pocket. He smiled when you chucked a few bills on the table first, not bothering to argue or play polite, ‘cause you were both more than aware money was going to be tight if you were going to make it across the country together. And besides, he told himself, this wasn’t a date. This was an escape and it didn’t matter if he knew that you kissed like you wanted to prove something, that you tasted like cherries and something else sweet.
He wasn’t gonna talk about that.
You both crossed the border into Illinois without much fanfare, the windows rolled down and the highway stretching out long ahead of you. The fields on either side of you were undisturbed, the sun blazing down on wide, green pastures, acres of gold wheat and every now and then, you’d pass an old barn that sat forgotten. The sign that welcomed you to the new state seemed a little monumental, despite the fact that the green backing of it was sun bleached and faded, but it meant that you and Steve were no longer in Indiana, no longer home.
It felt good, it felt dizzying and with every mile Steve drove you both across the state line, your smile grew and so did Steve’s. He was beaming when you glanced over at him, hair wild from the wind that funnelled through the open windows, the car going just a tiny bit faster that it was supposed to. But you merely turned up the music, fingers gentle on the dial, whatever mixtape Steve had made pumping through the speakers with static and crackles.
It made the boy beam, and he matched the summer outside, warmth and sunshine in his chest, a new heatwave trapped in his eyes, an adventure waiting on his lips. He was a sight to behold and it made your chest burst, so you blinked, turned back looking out the window instead.
But you couldn’t help the burst of laughter that ripped prettily from your throat when Steve started singing, not all that badly, you noted. He garnered your attention once more, like he wanted it, like he liked it. He didn’t care that you were watching, that you were staring, his hands drumming out a beat on the wheel, a little off rhythm, his hair in his eyes, chin tilted up to the sun as he crooned.
“There's a room where the light won't find you!” The boy was almost yelling to be heard over the roar of the car, and you were laughing through strands of wind whipped hair. “Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down!”
You sang the next line with him, much quieter and shyer than Steve did. But the words held the same weight to them whether they were whispered or yelled, and goosebumps tracked up your bare arms as you let them leave your lips.
“When they do I'll be right behind you.”
Maybe it meant nothing, maybe it was just a song, just a band that Steve liked, that he put on a mixtape. He was just a boy, an almost friend, someone you kissed just once. Just a boy who asked you to run away with him, a boy with honey brown eyes, messy hair, freckles that looked like the start of summer on his cheeks.
Maybe it meant nothing. It was just a song, you told yourself again. But then Steve looked over at you and grinned again, that same slow, soft smile you were already becoming so used to. Maybe it could mean everything.
You rolled through small towns and dust roads, listening to Tears For Fears and wondering if your aunt had woken up and found your note yet. The morning became afternoon and the heat rose with the sun, heating the asphalt, the air, you.
It had been over an hour, almost two, when you turned to Steve, cheek pushed to the fabric of the seat. Your gaze settled over him, familiarising yourself with the slope of his nose, the line of his jaw. He had some stubble now, a shadow to his cheeks that hadn’t been there the night he kissed you. Pouty lips, impossibly pink and soft - easy to kiss, you remembered. Eyes that kissed in the corners, always sleepy looking, thick lashes, honey and brown sugar in the sun. Hair that was always a little wild, curling at the nape of his neck, around his ears.
Steve Harrington was a very pretty boy, you summarised.
You cleared your throat when he caught you staring, a pair of Ray-Ban’s perched over his eyes now and despite the dark glass, you could see the way his eyes stuck on yours for just a second, before the road stole back his attention.
“So uh, what’s the plan?” you asked, trying for light and casual.
“Cali, remember? Carmel, the ocean, right?” Steve looked confused, and the pucker between his brows only deepened when you laughed, not unkindly.
“We’re a long way from there, hot shot,” you smiled, gesturing to the road ahead of you both. “What’re we doing in the meantime?”
Steve parted his lips, thinking. Then he laughed too, soft like you did, and waved a hand. “Shit, yeah, you’re right. Why, uh, why don’t we stop at town soon? We can get some supplies, take a walk, find somewhere to stay and figure out where we wanna go?”
You nodded before rooting around in the glovebox, nosy and entirely unapologetic about it. You scoffed, eyeing the boy with an air of disbelief.
“What?” Steve asked.
“Do you even have a map, Harrington?”
“No.”
----------
It’s how you and Steve found yourselves in Springfield, a bustling town that was the second choice to Chicago, or first, where Steve was concerned. The boy had wrinkled his nose when you’d suggested it offhandedly, and he’d made a comment about avoiding the cities that were too big, too loud, too much.
Steve wanted quiet, he wanted something slow, peaceful. He wanted rolling hills, he wanted valley’s, he wanted to see green and blue, he wanted sunsets, sunrises, he wanted to see the stars, home cooked meals in tiny diners, coffee on the hood of his car in front of a lake.
He wanted everything his own home couldn’t offer him, he wanted to get away. He smiled when you just nodded and said ‘okay’, like giving the boy what he wanted was the easiest thing in the world.
So Steve parked up on a street corner in the middle of town, the sidewalks busy enough that no one stared at the two of you, busy enough that no one realised that you didn’t belong. But the crowds and bustle meant that Steve stuck close to your side, a hand always hovering over the small of your back, scared to touch but unwilling to lose you in a new place.
The streets were lined with diners and some small businesses; hairdressers, barbers, bookshops and nail salons. There was a fancy restaurant or two, a dentist's surgery, a pharmacy that looked straight out of the 1950’s and a car garage that sat on the other corner, four gas pumps and a bored looking attendant.
The sidewalks were lined with small trees, striped canopies over the window displays, neon signs over twenty four hour diners and motels showing their vacancies.
It was enough for the first day, you thought. Enough to keep you busy, enough to get started. So you tapped Steve’s shoulder and pointed to a small store across the street, one that looked like you could find what you needed in it.
It seemed like a knee jerk reaction when Steve’s fingers slid gently around your wrist as you crossed the road. You didn’t pull away, you didn’t say anything but he was blushing when you looked at him, the skin where he’d touched you burning in response.
He gave you a sheepish smile when he let go, pink on his cheeks and one hand scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. He didn’t look at you when he explained, “sorry, I uh, I hang about with kids too much.”
There was no time to respond before Steve was shuffling into the shop, the bell above the door tinkling gently. You managed to find a roadmap of the states, each major highway inked in bright red and you traced route sixty six, a small smile on your face.
Your finger ran over the folds and creases, found the Pacific Coast highway and stared at the blue on the page, the dips in the lines that showed off beaches and coves.
Steve came to stand at your shoulder, head above your own as he watched you stare. He saw your smile, the almost hopeful look in your eyes.
His voice was quiet and soft when he said, “it’ll take us what, two weeks? Maybe three depending on where you wanna stop off?”
“Me?” You scrunched your nose, embarrassed to have been given so much say in a trip that wasn’t ever really your idea. “What about you? Aren't there places you’d like to go to? To see?”
Steve looked a little taken aback, like he’d never really thought about it. He shrugged, gazed back down at the map in your hands and moved a little closer so he could stare at the states, the roads, the lakes marked out in patches of blue.
“I didn’t really think of where I wanted to go,” he told you quietly, “just that I knew I wanted to leave.”
You were quiet as you processed the boy’s words, your eyes a little sad as you looked back over your shoulder at him, at his bruised eye and cut lip. So you nodded, like you understood, folded the map back up and placed it on the cash desk before you grabbed a small book from the display next to the till, one that was titled ‘1001 Things To See In America.’
Steve didn’t say anything but you saw him smile, that shy stretch of his lips, the same one he gave you after he kissed you. It showed off a dimple on his right cheek, it made his lashes kiss at the corners, nose a little wrinkled.
He looked really pretty.
He grabbed some bottles of soda as you wrestled with your purse, stretching over your shoulder again to place them on the corner, a big bag of chips quickly following with some dollar bills. Steve grabbed the bag of snacks, took the book you picked and tucked it under his arm, grinning at you as he headed for the door.
“Ready?”
The question took your breath away, because it was so much more than one word. It was possibilities, it was a leap of faith, it was a new state, a different adventure. It was mountains, valleys, lakes, oceans, wide roads, wider canyons, the chance to see something new.
It was absolutely terrifying. But you nodded and followed Steve out the door.
—————
“Did you know that Kansas has the biggest ball of twine?”
Steve was stretched out on the grass of Lincoln Park, the book you picked in his hands as he grinned at you over its pages.
You snorted. “Sounds riveting. Here,” you threw him a pen from your bag, taking your sketchbook out with it. “Start circling stuff that you wanna see, but no fifty foot balls of twine, please.”
“It’s actually only ten feet,” Steve told you, flicking through the pages absentmindedly.
“That’s disappointing.”
It was the boy’s turn to laugh and he took a sip of his soda before he tilted his chin at the paper you were holding, craning his neck to inspect.
“D’you draw?”
You flushed: your immediate reaction to being asked that question because it wasn’t something you showed off. You shrugged, held the pages a little closer to your chest and leaned back against the oak tree behind you.
“Not well,” you muttered, squinting your eyes against the sun. You watched as Steve watched you, how he took in your closed off body, the protective hand you held over the blank page. “S’just something to do, y’know?”
So he didn’t press, didn’t push, just merely nodded and went back to the book, tracing the letters of a title you couldn’t see. It was peaceful, easy, a bag of spicy chips laid open between you, your knees tucked up so you could put pen to paper and sketch out the mess of the boy’s hair in secret.
If Steve knew you were drawing him, he didn’t say. But he had to know, ‘cause your gaze was on him as much as it was your book and every now and then, your eyes met and he smiled.
“What about The Ozarks?” He said, pushing the book over to you, his finger tapped a photo of sprawling forests, cerulean blue springs hidden amongst them. There were people in kayaks, swimming, jumping from cliff tops. “Looks nice, right?”
You hummed in agreement, nodding. “It does, it looks super pretty.” You twisted your pen to your paper, drew in the small mole on his cheek. “That’s Missouri, yeah?”
He nodded, taking the pen you’d given in and circling something on the page, bookmarking it for later.
“About six hours away, if you wanna take the scenic route,” he mumbled, the map in his other hand, the edges of it curling in the light breeze.
“Always take the scenic route, Harrington,” you commented lightly, your lips twisting in concentration as you shaded in the slope of the boy’s jaw. “That sounds like a plan though, at least, a good start to one.”
“Noted,” he smirked and after a few beats of silence, he stretched his leg over the grass to yours, nudging at your foot with his trainer. He nodded at the paper that was still tucked against your knees, hidden against your chest. “Do I get to see?”
You baulked.
“Since it's me and all,” he grinned.
Weirdly, you knew that if you said no, Steve wouldn’t protest or argue. You weren’t sure how, but you were so, so sure of that. Maybe that’s why you chewed at your lip and turned the page, letting him take in the dark lines and soft shadows of his own face.
You’d drawn him from the torso up, t-shirt crumpled against the grass, hair wild from the drive, from the wind, his eyes downcast at the book he was holding.
Steve stared, silent before he coughed out an almost embarrassed sound laughing, eyes flicking between you and the page.
“Wow,” he mumbled, leaning closer to look. You could feel your cheeks heat up, the flush spreading across your chest. “Bruises and all, huh?”
You grimaced, regretting shading in the cut and marks around his eyes and lip, pulling back the paper and wondering if you’d crossed a line.
“Sorry! I’m- fuck, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-” you were rambling and it was awful. God, you felt awful.
“No! No, no,” Steve assured you, “don’t be, it’s amazing, shit… it’s really good.”
You were burning. “Thanks,” you mumbled, staring at anything but the boy. “You have a good face.”
Steve grinned.
“To draw,” you told him, voice a little too sharp and high. “Fuck.”
But Steve was already laughing, although it didn’t feel like it was aimed at you and the sound wasn’t cruel. He didn’t really look at you when he gathered up his things, the map and the book, his empty soda bottle.
“You have a good face too.”
You were pretty sure you were still flushed by the time late evening crawled around, dinner was in an old diner with sticky leather booths, a fuschia sign outside that blinked and flickered as the sun went down. It took a little while after that to find a motel with vacancies, the two of you driving around in the warm night air, the windows still rolled down.
The town smelled like leftover cinnamon from bakeries that were closing, fumes from exhausts, garlic and rosemary from the restaurants that only got busier the more you drove around the block.
Eventually you spotted a sign a few streets down, close to the park you’d spent your afternoon in. A pretty, baby pink building with a red sign above it, green curtains lining the windows and the word “VACANCIES” flashing at you both from the main door.
So Steve parked the car and brushed you away when he took both your bags out the trunk, slinging them over one shoulder like it was no big deal. Night was stretching in and despite not being all that far from home, the excitement of a new town, a new state, was starting to wear you both down.
Sleep tugged at your eyes as the stars came out and once again, Steve guided you into the quiet motel with a gentle hand that didn’t quite touch your back.
He spoke quietly and politely to the woman at the desk, looking at you questioningly when she asked how many rooms. The boy sputtered and stopped, eyes in yours as he let you take the lead.
There it was again, that heat in your cheeks that seemed to be becoming a frequent feeling around Steve Harrington. But he waited patiently, the woman less so, and you sounded far too quiet when you said, “one, please. A twin.”
Steve didn’t say anything as you took the keys from the desk, slid the money you’d both put together into the woman’s hand. It wasn’t until you were both standing in the too small elevator that you smiled at him a little sheepishly, arms crossed over your chest and said:
“I didn’t wanna be in a room alone.”
The boy nodded and smiled, like it was okay, like it was fine. And maybe it was. ‘Cause he put your bag down on the single bed for you when you entered the room, his on the other and told you that you could use the shower first, like this was the most normal Tuesday night.
The summer heat, leftover sunscreen and the hours in the car were sticking to your skin and the thought of a cool shower and some fresh pyjamas seemed far too enticing, so you did just that.
The spray was a welcome sensation, a little weak, a little pour than a dribble but it was better than you could’ve hoped for considering you had no plans to even be in a tiny motel in Illinois until yesterday at ten o’clock.
The party seemed an age ago, in someone's kitchen on Hawthorne Street, groups of strangers, some friends, colours in the sky and spilled beer on the kitchen tiles. A boy, familiar face, a new kiss, asking you to leave town.
You stared at the baby pink tiles, eyes a little wide as the reality of the situation set in. Guilt rolled in your stomach as you realised your aunt would have most definitely found your note by now.
Maybe she’d feel as free as you did.
The buzz of the television played through the thin walls as you got dried and dressed, skin still damp as you pulled on old shorts, a too big shirt that had a photo of Prince on the front, some splashes of dried paint on the hem.
Steve was lounging on his bed when you padded out barefoot, suddenly a lot more shy than you thought you would be. But he smiled and gestured to a bottle of water he’d left on the nightstand for you, brushing gently past your shoulder with his own towel as he went to wash the day away.
The low lights in the room were a little too warm, pink tinged and making everything look rosy. Steve had cracked a window, enough to let the summer air in, a cooler breeze now the sun had gone down, the sky streaked with leftover indigo clouds and you could hear the buzz of cicadas from the park behind you.
It felt a little dreamlike, a little surreal.
And then as you were tucked into bed, the sheets a little scratchy, Steve walked back out in shorts and a threadbare shirt, hair damp and falling in his eyes.
He pulled a pillow from his bag, a sad, flat looking one that still had its pillowcase on it from home. He chucked it onto his bed before tumbling in after it and he turned to look at you, expression almost unsure.
“You okay?”
You shuffled, cheek pressed to the motel pillow and between you both, the light flickered once, twice, sending peach coloured shadows across the room.
“Yeah,” you whispered, scared to break the silence that surrounded you. “How come?”
Steve shrugged, body lazy against the mattress and he stretched, humming in content as he did. “I dunno,” he whispered back, voice scratchy and soft with sleep. “I guess I just wanted to ask. Make sure you still want to do this, y’know?”
You smiled, appreciating the gesture, and you blinked at him, sleep tugging at you more and more. “Yeah, ‘course. The Ozarks right?”
The boy grinned and nodded, eyes shy and gazing at you from under his lashes. He pushed at his sheets with his toes, too warm, shoving them down his legs. You tried not to stare, not at the muscles in his thighs, the small scar on his ankle that shone silver in the low light.
It was quiet until Steve whispered ‘goodnight’, leaning out of his bed to flick the light off, bathing you both in black. Outside, the town kept going, soft music coming from somewhere unknown, the murmured conversation from some people at the vending machines in the parking lot below your room.
You don’t know why you asked it. Maybe it was because it was dark and you were suddenly a little unsure, maybe you just wanted to know a little more about the boy in the bed next to you - like you could collect some more pockets of the boy’s life, like you could find out enough to call him a friend, maybe, eventually.
“Hey Steve?” You waited until the boy made a little noise in the dark, signalling that he was still awake. “Tell me a secret?”
There was a beat of silence, one that made the room feel warmer, summer sneaking in from the outside. You heard the sheets shuffle, the rasp of skin on cotton.
“My dad gave me this black eye.”
His words were heavy, the way only a secret could feel. But it sounded like there was some relief colouring Steve’s whisper, like he felt lighter the minute he said the words.
“I’m sorry,” your response felt silly no matter how much you meant it.
“Tell me one too.”
You swallowed, paused, thinking. The hot prick of tears wet the corner of one eye and you were thankful for the dark, for the night. You brushed it away until it smeared into the mess of your hair, right by your ear.
“Uh, I realised last week that,” you coughed, cleared your throat, sounding more strained than you wanted to, “that I can’t really remember what my mom looks like. Not unless I looked at a photo.”
More silence, still warm, maybe hotter from the burn that lit up your skin. It felt a little like shame, maybe guilt, like your three year old mind was supposed to cling to the memory of the woman who left you, like you were supposed to remember the shape of her nose, the smell of her perfume, the colour that hid in the middle of her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Steve said too, and he sounded like he meant it as much as you did.
You both slept after that, each other’s secrets clutched to your chest and you dreamt of roadmaps and a blue, blue lake, where a brown eyed boy was waiting for you.
Girl, You Really Got Me Goin’; Steve Harrington x reader
Part 2/6: Five times you and Steve get ✨ interupted ✨ in public, and one time you don’t…
“Jeez, ‘so bossy,” Steve pretended to complain, pulling your shirt up and over your head and dropping it on the floor at his feet, revealing an adorable scowl on your face. “It’s like, really hot, though.”
“Yeah?” You asked, hair tousled from where your shirt was pulled over it, cheeks flushed and your lips kiss-bitten. You turned away from him, sauntering towards the table where you’d sat with Robin less than three hours ago and innocently ate lunch and chatted nonsense. You planted both palms flat on the table, your back arched slightly as you gazed at him over your shoulder.
“How about you come show me how hot you think it is?”
summary: based on the song K. by cigarettes after sex. moving to hawkins might not have seemed great, then you met steve and everything changed.
word count: 14k
warnings: smut, slight angst, fluff, all of it!!
a/n: this is my baby.. it took so long and i really hope u guys enjoy it!!!! it’s a long one so buckle up, and please please tell me what you think!
༄
You’ve known Steve for over a year now, and you've been sleeping with him for a couple months. It was a long story, and something completely unexpected.
You never thought moving into a trailer park in Hawkins would lead you to make so many friends, but here you were. Eddie was the one you met first, because you were neighbors. He was misunderstood, an outcast. For you, though, he was just the kind person who welcomed you to the town.
Eddie showed you around, taking you to his favorite spots like the arcade, his band practices, a strange spot in the forest that should’ve scared you but didn’t, the works. You would occasionally smoke together, winding down after long days with a joint. He was a good friend to you, a platonic partner in crime.
He even introduced you to his group of friends. Dustin, the other kids, Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, and Steve. Especially Steve.
You don’t know if Eddie had some kind of motive with his talking up of the Harrington boy, but he seemed to want to sell you on him. To make sure you would give him the time of day, as if you weren’t already planning on it.
The group took you in, reluctantly on some ends at first, but they became your people. A support system and a family. Even if they seemed to have a bond that didn’t include you, something that ran deep, you were still treated with warmth and kindness.
Robin was quick to befriend you, claiming that she was tired of her and Nancy being outnumbered by all the boys, and she was ecstatic to have someone else to turn to that wasn’t Steve, as much as she loved him. Some things were better spoken between women.
As your time in Hawkins passed, your friendship with everyone grew stronger, and it was like you’d been part of the clan all along.
The kids had someone else to look up to, to put their trust in, and it felt good to be needed that way. To be loved like that.
-
The flirty dynamic between you and Steve was something that came easily, thoughtlessly. It just worked. Your energy matched, the tension built. You both ignored that tension, until you couldn’t anymore.
You sat in your trailer with Eddie, Steve, and Robin. Each of you sprawled somewhere in the main area, bored and in need of entertainment for the night. Most of the time just being in each other’s company would be plenty of entertainment, but there was something missing this time. It was like everyone just needed something to do.
Eddie was the one who spoke up, “isn’t there a party somewhere tonight? We should go.”
“Hell no,” you were quick to shut it down. You weren’t one for parties because of the people. You didn’t know them and you didn’t necessarily want to.
“Why so quick to say no, babe?”
Of course Steve was smirking as he said it, it seemed like it was almost always on his face when he spoke to you. He loved to tease when it came to you. You always reacted or gave it back in some kind of way and he couldn’t get enough of it. Couldn't get enough of you.
“Because! I don’t know anyone here besides you guys and I don’t really need to. Why can't we just stay here?”
Robin decided to join in next, also trying to persuade you to go out even though it wasn’t really her scene either. “All the more reason! Meet new people and stuff, it could be fun.”
“Not you too, Robs. Really?”
She just shrugged, a small smile on her face because she knew you’d cave if everyone agreed. You were the type of person to do anything for those you cared about, even something small like attending a stupid party.
At everyone’s expectant looks towards you, you sighed. Standing up from your spot on your couch, you just placed your hands on your hips—a move you might’ve picked up from Steve—and nodded your head towards the door.
“Let’s go then.”
Your friends were right, it wasn’t horrible and you did get to meet a lot of new people, which was nice. Eventually, though, the small talk got old and the drinks got gross. You grew bored despite the music and party games.
Steve noticed it when you disappeared from the crowd, of course he did. Lately it seemed like he noticed everything you did. He wished he could say he didn’t know why, but that would be a lie. He liked you, and that was that.
He made it his mission to find you, and he did. You were leaning against the counter in the kitchen, just observing the party by yourself. Steve smiled when he saw you, your hair a little messy from the heated air, your eye makeup smudged the tiniest bit. And yet, you still looked perfect to him. Effortlessly.
“What are you doing hiding here, babe?”
You looked over at the sound of his voice, Steve’s eyes already on you. He came over to stand next to you, eyeing the crowd just as you were seconds before.
“Not hiding. ‘S just getting old. The party, I mean.”
“We can go back to mine. Drop Robin off on the way, I’m pretty sure she’s only here for you anyways.”
“She’s great. What about Eddie?”
“He’s making business, we can just let him know we’re leaving. He’ll be fine.”
“So you wanna go back to your house… just you and me?”
Shit. Did he spook you? Did he ask too much? He knew you’d been friends for a few months, but he didn’t know how to read this situation. Obviously he wanted to spend time with you, and only you. But he had no idea if you felt the same. Or if you even thought about it.
“Um. Yeah, is that okay?”
“‘Course it is, Steve. I’ll go tell Eddie. You get Robs?”
“Okay. Meet me at my car?”
“Sure thing.”
You walked off after that, assuming Steve would do the same. He waited a few moments first, though, just watching the way you moved through the room. The way his eyes seemed to stay stuck on you like that. He shook it off eventually and went to go find Robin.
She was sitting on a chair in the living room, somehow almost asleep even in this noisy house. Steve shook her awake and started talking. He needed her advice.
“Robin, wake up.”
“What?”
“Wake up! I need your help.”
“Jesus, I’m awake. What?”
“So y/n wants to leave and she’s coming to hangout at mine. I said we’d drop you off on the way so it’ll just be us. What do I do? I’m gonna embarrass myself. Oh my god.”
“First of all, rude of you to exclude me. Second, just be honest, like really honest. Tell her how you feel.”
“No, I’m not doing that.”
“You ask what to do and you never listen! You’re hopeless.”
Steve simply rolled his eyes and turned to exit the house, Robin following. He couldn’t tell you how he felt, you’d be so freaked out. It was so early in your friendship, in your time of knowing each other in general. It was just a crush. It had to stay that way.
Meanwhile, you found Eddie and told him that you were leaving with Steve and Robin.
“You’re going back to Harrington’s place? Priceless.”
“What are you saying Eddie?”
“I’m saying you like the boy. It’s about time you do something about it.”
“He’s my friend, Eddie, that’s it. Seriously.”
“Sure.”
You left after that, going to Steve’s car where he and Robin were waiting as promised. Eddie just shook his head at it all. He knew Steve liked you, it was pretty clear in his flirting manner and the look on his face whenever he saw you. He also knew that you liked Steve, even if you didn’t feel it yet. Eddie just knew you two were perfect for each other.
After dropping off a very stumbly Robin and getting back to the Harrington household, you and Steve were sitting on his couch with a random movie playing. At this point, it was background noise, something neither of you were paying attention to.
You and Steve have hung out just the two of you before, but never like this. Never in the quiet and privacy of an empty house, never this late in the night when things seemed to be deserted.
It went unnoticed when you both seemed to shift closer to the other, as if it was just a reflex that didn’t need any thought at all. It was natural, easy.
You can't pinpoint exactly when the mood shifted, when it went from lighthearted flirting like usual to something more, something deeper that was full of want.
Maybe it was when his arm ended up around your shoulders, a heavy weight that led your mind to all things Steve. Maybe it was when you turned on the couch to face each other, eyes roaming and curious. Maybe that want had been there all along, dormant and waiting to escape.
You felt it when Steve’s hand was placing itself on the side of your neck as you spoke, causing a slight hitch in your words. Just the reaction he was looking for.
Steve knew he wanted you, he was never sure if you felt the same until now. He was so intrigued by you, pulled in by all that you were. While he knew he felt something deeper for you than just want, he would take anything you offered. Anything at all.
With his hand on your neck, your pulse picking up under his palm, he felt something. Something mutual.
“How mad would you be if I kissed you, babe?”
Even with the thickness in the air between you, you weren’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at all. You wanted him to kiss you, to feel his mouth on yours. What the hell was up with that?
“Why don’t you find out?”
A whispered “holy shit,” and then he was leaning in, looking in your eyes one last time to search for any hesitation. He found none.
So, he kissed you.
It seemed like the world went still when you kissed, nothing else mattered then. His lips were as soft as they looked, pressing to yours softly at first, then, quicker, hungrier.
If Steve wasn’t kissing you dumb, you’d be freaking out over the fact that Steve was kissing you. When you gasped and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, any trace of thought you had slipped away.
He paid attention to everything that made you react. Breathe harder, push yourself closer.
His senses were going wild and it had everything to do with you and your mouth. You were enchanting and soft and so pretty, and you were here, kissing him. He couldn’t help but groan when you shifted to straddle his lap, a hand braced on his chest and the other tangling itself in his hair.
“How mad would you be if I told you I wanted to make you feel good?”
He was breathless, his pupils wide with desire and his hands now on your hips, guiding you. You could feel him hard underneath you, and it was driving you crazy.
“Not mad at all.”
It was a rush from there. Shirts coming off, kisses stolen between every item of clothing removed. You ended up on your back with Steve hovering over you, both of you in nothing but your underwear.
It was heated touches and his hand slipping beneath the hem of your panties. An orgasm coaxed out of you with skill and praise and all the right words. Another kiss and a question of “Can I fuck you?” and your answer of “yes, please.”
It was the beginning of something.
-
Since that night, an arrangement of sorts was made between you and Steve. A friends with benefits thing that just worked.
You understood each other and what was wanted at what time. How to read what your bodies were saying, what certain looks meant when you were with the rest of your friends. One for ‘my house, later,’ another for ‘I need you. Now,’ that would usually lead to half-assed excuses and two friends leaving early. Very sneaky.
Through the months of your situation, Steve’s feelings for you only grew, though they remained a secret to you. Meanwhile yours stayed buried, in a space of your mind and soul that lived in ignorance.
Despite you and Steve believing you were secretive enough, everybody knew something was going on, and they all knew it would end in one of two ways: with the two of you happy and in love, or a horrible disaster.
Steve’s emotions towards you were clear for anyone to see. Anyone except you, it seemed. His hand would find a place on your lower back when weaving through crowded rooms, his eyes often softening as they fell on your figure, the flirting you had leaving him more flustered than ever before.
He had it bad.
Last night, Steve had the whole clan over. The kids and the other’s all together with pizza and games. It was fun and lively. Exactly what you all needed every once in a while to remind you of the brilliant support system you had.
It involved Eddie’s classing routine of trying to get everyone to give his music taste a chance, Dustin’s huge ego invading every single game, the couples trying to play on teams—except Max, who loved to beat Lucas in anything.
To put it simply, it was a long night. No matter how fun, you didn’t feel like driving home after the chaos that was that group of people, so, naturally, Steve let you stay the night.
When everyone got ready to go, and you didn’t, it gave them even more proof that the two of you were trying to hide something. It gave Eddie more proof to use to get you together, winking at you as he left.
You and Steve had sleepovers before, but always with the expectation of something more. This time, it was just a friend offering a place to sleep for another friend. No sex tonight.
It felt like muscle memory as you walked up to his room with him, changing into pajamas of yours he’s made room for in the top drawer of his dresser. Moving on to the bathroom where Steve kept spare bottles of your skincare products, ready for you anytime. Where there was a second toothbrush in his holder just for you.
You never over thought any of it, though. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you, but friends could be sweet, too. It didn’t have to be romantic… right?
You and Steve moved around each other with ease throughout your night routines, never in the way. It was something you had lots of practice with considering the amount of late night phone calls that turned into late night visits.
Once you were both in his bed, that’s when there was a small hesitation. Do you still cuddle even if nothing happened beforehand? Was it acceptable for Steve to give you a forehead kiss goodnight in this case? Were you allowed to wrap his arm around your waist, deeming yourself the little spoon?
After that moment of wondering who will make the first move, though, you both seemed to just think, fuck it. You both turned to lay on your sides, Steve wrapping his arm around you, you scooching back so his chest was pressed right against your back, radiating warmth and comfort.
Then, a forehead kiss from Steve, whispered goodnights, and you were both asleep.
You woke up to sunlight slipping through the gap in the curtains, an arm still holding you close, legs tangled with yours. A warm chest against you and soft breaths hitting the back of your neck.
When you felt Steve shift around, consciousness coming back to him, you turned around in his hold to face him. You loved the way he looked in the morning, his usually perfect hair messy from sleep, his eyes still hazy and blinking open slowly. He looked cute.
One of his favorite things was waking up with you, because it was domestic and soft in a way that was rare for him to come by. You were extra pliant, welcoming his morning cuddles no matter the context. He gave you a lazy smile, “hi.”
“Hi.”
You reached up to push his hair away from his forehead, tender and delicate. Something a lover would do, but your morning brain wasn’t one to think too hard about your actions. The earlier hours of the day were spent together, it was like they didn’t really count, as if acting like a couple in the privacy of his room now wouldn’t matter.
He sighed happily, rolling over to lay himself on top of you, face squished against your chest and his arms hugging you close.
“Steven!”
He just giggled, knowing you were smiling too. You only called him that teasingly, trying to be serious with him when you couldn’t.
“Mmm, you’re so comfy.”
“And you’re squishing me.”
He gasped, mocking offense and pushing himself up to hover over you and let you look at his dramatically pinched face, “I am not!”
“Don’t pout at me, you’ll get wrinkles.”
“Heyyy. Don’t be mean, I'm fragile in the morning.”
“Sorry, c’mere.”
To both of your surprise, you placed both of your hands on his cheeks, pulling him down for a soft kiss to make him feel better, even though he wasn’t actually upset. You two never kissed, or did anything in the mornings. Usually, you’d just get up and get dressed. Something about today felt different.
It was a short kiss, but when Steve pulled away and looked over your pretty face, your eyes fuzzy and glancing at his lips, he dove back in. He was propped up using one arm, bent just above your head so he could stay close, the other running over your side.
Your hands shifted so one was buried in the hair at the nape of his neck, keeping him close to you, while the other was hugged around his shoulders, feeling the muscles there ripple and shift with his movements. It became heated, the kind of kiss that was bound to lead to something else, and it felt exciting, new.
Steve’s hips began to shift against yours, the morning stiffy he sported no longer ignored. You pushed your pelvis up to meet in the middle, a delicious friction that felt even better with your newly awoken senses, minds still a little bit tired, but completely focused on each other.
When you let out a whimper, Steve slipped his tongue into your mouth, the kiss going languid. Slowed down and relaxed, but just as arousing as before. Somehow, with the pace going down, it made everything better, stronger.
“Steve, please,” you whined between kisses, feeling needier with every push of his hips and stroke of his tongue. It seemed like this pocket of time belonged to only you and him, the rest of the world falling away in the midst of the risen sun and morning dew.
“What is it, honey?”
“Need you.”
“Know you do. I’ve got you.”
His hand that was steady on your waist moved down, pushing your pj shorts and underwear aside to slip his fingers down to where you were wet, a sigh escaping you when he moved up to your clit. He knew exactly how to wound you up, how to make you feel good. He had plenty of time to learn you and your body and it was easy now. Easy to get you there.
“Steve. Stop teasing.”
“Sorry. Can't get enough of you.”
He kissed you again when he slipped a finger into you, swallowing the moans you gave him. You were squirming under him, needy for anything he’d give and he fucking loved it. The way you gave yourself to him, trusted him.
Your first orgasm was coaxed out of you with the expertise of his fingers, and the encouragement of “that’s it. Atta girl.”
Your back arched enough to press your chest to his, your head digging into the pillow beneath it. He kept going until you couldn’t take it anymore, knowing the kind of whimper that was a signal of you needing a minute to come back.
Steve stood up as you caught your breath, sucking his coated fingers into his mouth before helping you strip and pulling his boxers down, both of you left bare. You’d seen each other naked many times, but in the golden glow of sunlight it was special. He grabbed a condom from his nightstand and put it on before crawling back over you, giving you another dizzying kiss before lining himself up.
“You want this?”
You nodded, arms slipping around his neck, “I want you, Steve.”
“Fuck.”
He kissed you again as he pushed himself in, distracting you partially so you’d relax for him. Once he was all the way there, he pulled back just enough to lean his forehead against yours, your noses brushing against each other at each push and pull of his hips.
“You’re beautiful. So good for me.”
“More, please.”
He could never deny you when you asked so prettily. A whininess to your voice that made him feel special because he brought it out of you. He’s the one who made you feel this way.
Steve moved slow and deep, brushing against all the right spots that had you moaning and wrapping your legs around his waist to let him in even more. He kissed you all over, a peck to your forehead, your nose, then spongy lips trailing down your neck to kiss at your throat.
Sounds escaping both of you without control, senses full of each other and nothing else. You and Steve had sex often, but never like this. Never in this intimate way that seemed much more like making love than simply fucking.
“Can feel you squeezing me, sweet girl. You wanna come for me?”
“Steve.”
“I know, I’ll get you there.”
And he did, the hand that wasn’t needed to hold himself up sliding over the hill of your breasts and down to rub circles against your clit, pushing you over the edge yet again.
“There you go. So pretty.”
Your second orgasm washed over you, and before he could even react, you flipped Steve over so you were on top, straddling his thighs and riding him slow and steady. Your hands were braced on his chest at first, but at that look of pleasure and bliss on his face you leaned down to kiss him.
With each grind of your hips, your chest would slide against his, as close as you could get. He held your hips, helping you along and making sure you were feeling the best you could.
After letting you lead for a bit, he planted his feet on the bed, giving him the steadiness to meet your hips and thrust into you. Your face was buried in his neck after that, moans falling into his ear and a hand cradling his head, the other squeezing the pillow in your fist.
“Steve. Want you to come.”
“I will, babe. Can you give me another first?”
All you could do was nod against his skin, and he felt it, giving him encouragement to speed up just enough to have you pulse around him one more time. He came with you then, a hand coming to the back of your neck to guide you to look at him. Your eyes locking in a way that was so intimate, so full of devotion it felt like the fabric of your relationship shifted right then.
“God. You feel so good. So, so perfect for me.”
The only things leaving your mouth were curses and whimpers of his name. Both of you coming and then relaxing together. You all but collapsed on top of him when you both finished, spent and completely fucked out.
“You okay, sweet girl?”
“Think you turned my brain to mush,” you mumbled against his sticky skin. He chuckled, running his hands up and down your back to soothe you, to bring you back to him.
“How ‘bout a shower?”
Together? That wasn’t something you’d done before, surprisingly. You would always take turns, avoiding the intimacy a shared shower would provide. The feelings that might escape.
This morning, everything shifted though, and it was like nothing else even existed. So, naturally, you said yes.
Neither of you were in a rush to get up, though, taking the time to come down from the events of the morning before moving over to the bathroom. You’re almost positive you would have fallen asleep laying on top of Steve if he didn’t roll you over so he was able to pull out of you and get rid of the condom. After that, he disappeared from the room for a minute to turn on the shower.
When he came back in, smiling at the sight of you so sleepy on his bed, he almost felt bad for disturbing that. He knew you wanted to wash off though, and he couldn’t deny that he was giddy at the idea of showering together. It was something couples did, not something that was mixed in with a supposed feeling free arrangement.
He walked over and scooped you up bridal style, not wanting to let the water run for too long.
“Steven! I can walk.”
“Yeah, well, I wanted to carry you.”
“You’re sweet.”
“I try my best.”
He set you down once you were in the bathroom, and you got in the shower right away. You didn’t want to give yourself time to overthink this new part of your relationship with Steve, and everything this morning might mean. The warm water relaxed your muscles, eased your mind ever so slightly.
Steve joined you quickly, stepping in behind you so his chest was almost pushed against your back. When you tilted your head to let your hair get wet, he snuck a quick kiss to your forehead that left you flustered. He was a soft person, and he cared so deeply for the people around him and you knew that. That’s why this was scary to you, because the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him or your friendship.
He reached for a bottle of shampoo, one that happened to be yours because he even kept your favorite brands of soap in his shower, and squeezed some onto his hand, “can I?”
“Mhm. You have good hands.”
“Dirty.”
“Your mind is dirty, that’s all.”
He massaged the suds into your scalp, probably longer than needed because he enjoyed the way you sighed at the feeling, the way your body seemed to calm even more under his touch.
He rinsed your hair and did conditioner too, knowing to only put it in the ends of your hair because he was an expert on the subject.
“Why’re you so good at this?”
“They don’t call me The Hair for nothing.”
You laughed, you had heard the story of The Hair and it never failed to be funny to you, “I can't believe people actually called you that.”
“What? You don’t think my hair is my best feature?”
You were facing him now, watching him wash his own hair while you stayed close to him. You thought about it. You knew he was teasing but it made you wonder. You couldn’t help but think of his eyes and how expressive they were, the sweetness of honey that was so easy to get lost in.
“Your hair is nice, but I like your eyes. Your eyes are really, really pretty.”
His hands paused in his hair, his head moving to look down at you, at the sincerity of your words. He decided then that you didn’t have a best feature, because there wasn’t a single bad one about you. You were perfect, and sometimes he’s convinced that you’re an angel that was sent to him as a protector. Someone meant to keep him grounded without any effort at all.
He was in love with you.
The thought had been floating in his mind for months, but here and now, he knew it for sure. He loved you and he thinks he has for almost as long as he’s known you. This moment of intimacy, of trust and peace, it confirmed it for him.
He was scared that if he opened his mouth to speak, he’d let those words slip out, so instead he just gave you a quick kiss. Chaste but still tender as ever. Then, he just went back to washing his hair with his mind full and his heart even fuller.
-
After finishing up in the shower and getting dressed in fresh clothes—yours from the drawer he left empty just for you—Steve made you breakfast, the saccharine haze of the morning still present. It stretched across the day.
The hours slipped away when you were with Steve, time didn’t really exist. You watched TV cuddled up on the couch, comfortable enough to have a nap together there. He challenged you in board games, but was ready to let you win if you showed any bit of disappointment in how it was going. You spent a bit of time reading, Steve asking if you would do it out loud so he could listen along.
It felt natural to spend so long with him, like this wasn’t only his home, but yours too. Maybe that was an odd thing to feel, but it was true. Being with Steve in his expansive house, just the two of you, felt right. Like you belonged there with him. That was another point to add to your list of things to overthink.
You had a lot to figure out because all of this had to mean something.
Steve never wanted the day to end. He loved having you with him in the house that was so often empty of company. He loved being able to spend so much uninterrupted time with you in a way that really made him wish for things he shouldn’t be wishing for. A relationship with you, for example. A real one where you would call him your boyfriend and he could call you his girlfriend. Where one day you’d become his wife and you could live together, just like this, every day.
In an attempt to stretch the best day of his life even further, Steve had the idea to ask you out. He’d do it in a way that was casual enough to pass as a friend's thing, when really he wanted it to be more.
“You hungry, babe?” He asked you from his spot on the couch, the two of you having gone back to watching pointless television.
“I could eat. Why?”
“Was wondering if you wanted to go to that diner that’s just out of town. You know, with the staff on roller skates and milkshakes and stuff.”
“Sometimes, Steven, you have really great ideas.”
“What do you mean sometimes! I have great ideas, like, hourly. At least.”
He enjoyed the way you laughed at that, replying to him with, “gosh, you’re a dork. You’re lucky I like you so much. Let’s go.”
You’re lucky I like you so much.
He knew you probably meant it jokingly, but he was stuck on it. How much was it? Enough for it to be romantic? Was there something there after all? He was convinced he’d been imagining the shift that was felt since you both woke up this morning, but maybe it was real. Maybe it was something clicking into place.
“The luckiest. C’mon, I’ll drive.”
-
The diner was tucked away, standing by itself on its lot outside of Hawkins. Outside, it was just a regular building with a bright, lit up sign attached to it. Inside, however, it was perfect.
The checkered floors, the jukebox sat in the corner, the pink countertops and booth seats. Everything about the space was bright and fun and you wished you knew about it earlier. At the same time, you’re glad Steve’s the one who’s showing it to you.
He watched your face as you looked around, the smile on your face and the glint in your eyes. He knew it wasn’t something huge, but he loved this diner and he’s only ever been here alone. Until now.
“This is so cute, Steve!”
“I knew you’d like it.”
His hand on your lower back guided you over to a booth tucked by the front window of the diner. When you sat down, he opted to sit next to you instead of across, and you couldn’t deny the way it made your face heat and your stomach flutter.
The menus were already on the table, allowing you to pick it up and take a look. The other menu was on the other side, where Steve chose not to sit, so, he just leaned in with his head next to yours to read it with you. His chin was perched on your shoulder, his arm slung around you and resting lazily on your hip.
“What do you think, babe?”
“Everything looks really good. Can you just choose for me?”
“You trust me with your meal? I’m so honoured.”
“Yeah. You should be.”
You both turned to look at each other, smiling at the ease you felt when chatting. Your smiles faded when the proximity of your faces was realized, your noses nearly touching. It was confusing, a question of who will move first, and will they pull away or get closer.
The small moment was broken when a waitress in roller skates approached the table, her light pink uniform and big welcoming smile coming into view.
“Hi, Steve! Good to see you again. You’ve brought someone, this time!”
“Hi, Brenda. I did. This is the girl I told you about.”
Brenda seemed sweet, and genuinely happy to meet you. It wasn’t her fault you felt a little jealous at the idea of Steve coming here alone, being taken care of by someone so pretty and kind like her. What the hell was wrong with you?
“Oh! Yes, I’ve heard so much. I’m Brenda, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Um, yeah. Hi. You too.”
If she noticed your apprehensiveness, she didn’t let it show, while Steve just squeezed your hip a little to remind you he was there. With you, not her.
“What can I get you guys?”
“Okay, I’ll have the usual. Burger and fries. She’ll have the same, and a vanilla milkshake, please. Two straws.”
“I’ll be right back with that.”
She skated away, somehow elegantly and it was impressive. You think you could like her, if you just sorted out whatever that pinch in your gut was at the wink she gave Steve before pushing off.
You looked at him, now leaning against the seat with his head tilted towards you. He was really pretty, you’d always known that. It was present here in the lighting of the diner, the fluorescent lights beaming and yet, he was beautiful.
“Two straws?”
He gave you a little tap on your nose, grinning at the cute way you scrunched it up, “duh. One for you, one for me. C’mon, pretty, keep up.”
“My bad, Steven.”
“Mhm. Said you trusted me. Did I choose well?”
“So far so good. Gotta taste it to know for sure though.”
“Dirty.”
“That’s your mind!”
“It’s your fault. You bring it out of me, I guess.”
Bring what out of him? Being dirty? You already knew that, the sex you were having spoke for itself. But he sounded like he was talking about something else, like maybe he just meant his laid back, teasing behaviour was something saved for you. Or, maybe you were just thinking too hard.
Steve loved the way he felt with you, how he could be himself without any second thoughts. He liked that you never knew him in his high school days, that you never knew him as ‘King Steve,’ only as Steve, or Steven—which was reserved for you. It was a relief to meet someone and not have their judgement of his past weighing down on him.
While you had been told about the person he used to be, you only knew who he was now. That was really special to him. Because he was proud of the person he became, and that’s who you met, who you chose to spend time with.
“I’m really happy you moved here.”
You looked at him, noting the sincerity in his words and the hand that wasn’t on your hip moving to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. You really looked at him, at the situation. You couldn’t help but notice how much this felt like a date, and how you really wanted it to be one.
It was like a pocket of your mind had been emptied, revealing your feelings for him right there, all at once. He was the sweetest boy you ever met, with the kindest eyes and the softest heart. He was someone you wanted to spend every minute with, and you don’t think you could ever get sick of him.
He was someone you loved. Someone you might even be in love with.
Something changed there in that booth for you. How you looked at him then. It turned into something more, or maybe it was always there and the only difference was now you knew it. Either way, things weren’t the same.
“Yeah, I’m really happy I moved here, too.”
He gave you a quick kiss, without a thought. He liked kissing you, he wanted to do it and he figured that in this almost empty diner, he was allowed. He wished he was allowed all of the time; in front of your friends or anytime at all that wasn’t the two of you sleeping together.
He just wanted you to be his, and he to be yours. Completely.
A peck on your cheek followed, then your nose and forehead. When you giggled at his actions, he pulled away, looking at your smiling face and feeling special that he’s the one who made you react like that.
“You’re a great person, Steve. I mean that.”
“Stop.”
“It’s true! I’m glad you’re in my life.”
“Sometimes I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
It sort of slipped out, his thoughts travelling into words quicker than he could process. It was true, though. You were a vibrant light in the town of Hawkins. Exactly what he needed.
Then, your food was brought out, your vulnerable conversation cut off by hungry stomachs and a yummy meal. Steve stole fries from your plate, he teased you with fake gags when you dipped yours in the milkshake. You forced him to try it and his mind was changed, of course.
From the counter, Brenda observed the two of you with a smile. Steve told her about his feelings for you, because she wasn’t on the inside. She didn’t know any of his and your friends, and she was able to give him advice without any bias.
Seeing you in the flesh next to him was even more proof of how he felt. He was practically glowing because of you, his eyes on you with so much emotion she couldn’t believe you weren’t already together. She just shook her head and brought over the bill, giving Steve another wink because she knew.
On the ride home, he rested a hand on your thigh, keeping contact with you like he absolutely had to. You knew he was a physical touch kind of person, and today really brought it out of him.
He wanted to take you back to his, to spend another day like this one all over again tomorrow and the next day, and the next. He wanted to hold you in his sleep and wake you up with kisses and love and all of that couple shit.
“Can you come to mine again?”
“I want to, but my mom will lose her mind if I’m not home tonight. You know how she is.”
“She’s nice.”
“Because she likes you!”
“How could she not? I’m a charmer.”
“Just take me home, Steven. You dork.”
“Alright, alright.”
Even on the short drive, you managed to doze off. Steve’s hand on your leg a calming weight that kept you grounded, the lull of the music playing making your eyes heavy. Your head lying awkwardly against the seat in a way that was sure to hurt your neck if you stayed there for too long.
Steve didn’t even notice you’d fallen asleep until he pulled into your driveway, glancing over at you to say bye and finding your eyes shut and your breathing steady. Yet again you showed that you trusted him, to get you home, to take care of you. He fucking loved you.
He really didn’t want to disturb you, you looked so peaceful and he just wanted to let you stay that way. But, he knew that you had to get home, he didn’t want to upset your mom or you in any way.
Steve decided to wake you slowly, first cupping your face in one of his hands and letting his thumb brush back and forth against your skin, then using his other hand to grab the hand laying in your lap, squeezing.
“Hey, we’re here, babe.”
You shifted slightly, your head nuzzling into his palm in your drowsy state—something Steve found adorable—and breathing in deep. The boy squeezed your hand again, leaning in closer to kiss your eyelids, your cheek, then backed away again.
You blinked your eyes open then, lazy and so, so soft. “Hey.”
“Hi, sweet girl. You have a nice nap?”
“Mhm. Smells like you in here, ‘s cozy.”
“You’re cute. And we’re in your driveway.”
You hadn’t even noticed you were home, glancing out the window towards your front porch, the lights left on to welcome you home. As much as you loved your room, the bookshelf that sat in there, the stuffed animal you still kept on your bed, you wanted to stay with Steve.
He was a welcomed presence at any time, and now more than ever you knew that. He took care of you, he knew you. What you needed or wanted without a word, Steve could tell. You never had a connection like that with anyone else.
You could say with certainty now, you were in love with him. It wasn’t just your sleepy mind or a random thought, it was true.
“Thank you for today. For dinner and driving me home. You’re the best, Steve.”
“You know you can call me anytime, for anything. I love y- um, spending time with you. You’re my best friend, pretty.”
Did you catch his slip up? He certainly did and his heart was beating wildly in his chest. If you heard what he almost said, you didn’t mention it, only looking at him in that way you always did that made him weak.
Best friend. Right. You knew that, but you were also pretty sure he almost just said something that might have meant you were more. Having just woken up, though, you weren’t sure if you were just making things up.
“I love spending time with you too. I’ll see you later?”
“Of course you will.”
“Okay.”
Before you let yourself overthink it, you leaned over the centre console to plant a sweet kiss on Steve’s lips. He welcomed it, welcomed you and your taste. You didn’t let it go for too long, scared your mom might walk out and see or that you’d get carried away. So, you pulled away, pressed two more pecks to his mouth before opening the passenger door.
“Goodnight, Steve.”
“Goodnight, babe.”
He watched you walk up to your front door, waiting for your bedroom light to turn on before backing out of your driveway and taking himself back to his empty house that somehow felt even emptier without you in it.
-
It’s been a couple of days since the diner, since the time spent with Steve that taught you so much. That day made you realize you loved him, made you aware of how you felt and what you really wanted. You wanted him as your boyfriend, as your future and hopefully forever.
You had seen him since, but not separately from the group. It was full of glances and smiles and teasing. Your dynamic hadn’t really changed, at least not when you were around others, you weren’t sure you could say the same for your alone time.
Tonight, you had plans with Steve and the older crew. There was a bar type thing outside of town that seemed exciting enough, more so than the Hideaway, and with the fake IDs Eddie got you all, you’d be in no problem.
You were finishing getting ready in your bathroom, grateful you were the last person on the way to the bar because you needed the extra time. You were carefully applying your mascara when you heard the honk outside, letting you know your ride was here.
You hurried down the stairs, trying to put your shoes on as quickly as possible on the way, then, you were out the door. You spotted Eddie’s van right away, quickly walking to the back door.
The van was spacious, but always seemed to look full with your friends in it. Eddie in the driver's seat, Robin in the passenger seat with her feet up on the dashboard, Jonathan and Nancy sitting next to each other in the back, and Steve, wearing the sweetest smile at the sight of you.
Your dress was beautiful, but maybe he only thought so because you were the one wearing it. Your hair styled in a way he wanted to ruin, to mess up with his hands. He had it so bad for you and he knew it. Everyone did, really.
“Hey, babe! You look amazing.”
“Thanks. You too, Steve.”
Eddie groaned dramatically, but he was still smiling, “okay enough flirting and get in! Let’s go!”
This time, you listened to Eddie, climbing into the van and shutting the door behind you. Steve didn’t know what came over him when he tugged you down by your waist to sit on his lap, but he was glad he did when you let out the cutest surprised gasp.
He was more comfortable being touchy with you without the kids around, without their incessant questions and lack of filter. Here, he felt like it was more okay, like nobody would really say anything even if they wanted to.
They all knew about Steve’s feelings for you, even if he’d never told them. He became a very transparent person and that vulnerability was more amplified when you were involved. They were also fairly sure there was something going on, and that you felt the same way he did. The two of you weren’t really that great at hiding it.
You were shocked at his actions, considering his usual restraint around your friends, but you can’t say you weren’t buzzing because of it. You settled in his lap, his arms around your waist to keep you steady. It was nice, to feel like you were really his.
If the others felt a type of way about the couple-ish behaviour, they didn’t show it. They just kept the conversation going as normal as it would. Poking fun at Eddie’s driving, asking Robin if she was ready to dance without falling over, checking Jonathan’s temperature because he must’ve been sick if he agreed to going out like this.
It was all in good spirits, spilling laughter and a happy atmosphere.
The closer you got to the bar, the bumpier the roads were, and Steve noticed. He could feel you shift and bounce in his lap every time the car would hit a pothole, could feel you trying to squirm back into a comfortable position after getting jostled a little.
He was about to lose his mind.
When you shifted around again, he gripped your waist harder, stilling your movements.
“You gotta stop moving so much, pretty.” He was whispering, so quiet that you were the only one who could’ve heard him. His mouth by your ear and his hands holding you still.
“What?” You turned your face towards him so your lowered volume could be heard by him. You saw the look on his face, the deep breathing in his chest. Then you felt him. He was hard. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”
“‘S okay. Just try to be still for me.”
“I will. We’re almost there. Sorry again.”
“Not your fault you turn me on.”
“Shh! Steven!”
“Oh stop, they're too loud to hear us.”
You shook your head and turned back towards the front, trying your best to remain steady so Steve could get a break. You were flustered at the reminder of the affect you had on him, of how you made him react to your body without knowing it.
You and Steve joined back in on the main conversation after that, hearing the tail end of Robin’s story about an angry customer from the day before. It was hard to focus, though. With the hands splayed wide against you and the thoughts about what could be.
Eddie pulled into the parking lot of the bar shortly after that, turning the car off then glancing at the rest of you with that mischievous look that could only ever be an Eddie face. “You guys ready to get fucked up?”
“Well, miss Wheeler, since I’m the chauffeur and can’t drink tonight, you’re all doing it for me!”
You giggled at your friend's train of thought, “sounds like a solid plan, Eds. You’re gonna be in charge of all of us?”
“Yes and I’ll be great at it! You’ll see.”
Steve leaned his head against yours, “enough chit chat, let’s get in there!”
“Patience, Steven.”
But you were already getting up, and getting out of the van, Steve following. Everyone else did, too, and you all made your way towards the doors, IDs and your best poker face at the ready.
As promised, you got in easily, and then you were all headed to order drinks. Steve’s hand found yours in the crowded space, gripping it to make sure you stayed close to him and he knew you were there. It was sweet, and you squeezed his hand because of it.
Drinks were ordered and downed, the second round for sipping slower. At first, you all stuck together, trying to talk over the noise, but eventually you split off. Nancy and Robin pulled you onto the dance floor with a new drink in hand before you could protest. Steve and the other two boys finding a spot to stand and lean and watch you all, making sure you were okay.
“So, Steve, when are you gonna fess up?”
“What?”
Eddie rolled his eyes. You and Steve were driving him nuts because he knew about the feelings and he knew it would work. It was just taking so long.
“Oh, come on Harrington. That you love her? That there’s something going on. We can all tell.”
“Nothing’s going on.. um. Yeah.”
“Back me up here, Byers.”
Jonathan had a way of speaking that was very persuasive, very matter-of-fact, and that’s why Eddie roped him into the conversation. He needed assistance in his match-making task.
“Steve, it’s kinda obvious. You look at her like she’s the sun, or something. Just admit it.”
You look at her like she’s the sun. Maybe that’s because you are, in a way. The brightest star that keeps him warm and relaxed and cheery. He only hoped he wouldn’t get burnt in your rays.
“Okay. So what? She’s my friend. Yeah.”
“Cut the bullshit. You love her and there’s something there. Just tell us. We can give great advice.. look at Byers over here, he’s in a great relationship.”
“Jesus, we’re having sex. You happy?”
“And you haven’t told her how you feel because..?”
What a great question that was. Steve didn’t even know the answer, because there were so many reasons. You might not feel the same, you might get totally freaked out and pull away from him. Or, you could love him back and he could ruin it because he thinks that’s what he’s best at. Messing things up.
“I don’t know.”
Jonathan spoke more reassuringly, “trust me, she feels the same way. She talks to Nancy about you.”
“Oh. Good to know, thanks.”
You talked about him? Was it good? Did you worry about every little thing like he did? Worry about whether he felt the same way or how to go about things in the future?
That was a lot to think about.
He didn’t have the time to do so, though, because when his eyes were back on you, he saw a guy talking to you. He saw you laugh at something that he said and then he saw him hold out a hand to dance with you. He saw you take it.
He felt like shit.
You were tipsy, just enough to be giggly and happy. When the stranger asked you to dance you didn’t even realize he was flirting, you only agreed because you lost Nancy and Robin and this seemed fun.
Steve downed his drink and walked onto the floor, his eyes focused on you and that fucking guy you were dancing with. In your defence, there was a distance between you and the stranger, not even touching other than the hand he held. That was enough to make Steve jealous, though.
When you saw Steve walking over you waved to him with excitement. Your grin was inviting and it almost made Steve forget about why he was walking over there in the first place. Almost. But the stranger came into view once more, and his jealousy flared up again.
“Steve! Dance with me!”
You let go of the stranger when Steve got close, opting to hold onto him instead. You stumbled a little and Steve caught you with ease, the stranger disappearing into the crowd. You weren’t even drunk, only slightly fuzzy, but it was enough that mixed with the atmosphere, you were feeling extra giddy.
He felt his past annoyance fade, because you were literally tripping to be with Steve instead of that guy. He was who you wanted to dance with, really. Who was he to deny you of that?
“Show me your moves, pretty.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, his going around your waist loosely to give you room to move. You grinned at him, happy to have the contact and time with Steve. Your hips swayed to the best of whatever song was playing, eyes locked on Steve and his on you.
“Why aren’t you dancing, Steven!”
“You’re too good, I can’t compare.”
“Don’t care, dance with me.”
“You’re gonna have to teach me, honey.”
“‘Kay. So just listen to the music, right? Then you gotta move to it.”
He tried, but ended up looking more like a dad at a barbecue than a pretty boy in a bar. You bit your lip to hold in your laugh, but failed, and he pouted at you for it.
“What?”
“You’re gonna need so many lessons.”
“Hey! I’m not bad. Maybe it’s my teacher's fault.”
“No way. You said yourself, I’m too good.”
“Got me there,” he kissed your cheek, distracting you with his soft lips. The lightest touch from him managed to take your mind off of whatever was happening beforehand. It was baffling to know that someone had that much power over you, but you felt safe knowing that person was Steve.
Steve continued to try and dance the way you instructed, often failing but eventually getting better, able to keep rhythm with you. You were having fun, not a care about the world around you.
After a while, your mouth was dry from the lack of a drink and constant movement, “Steve, ‘M thirsty.”
“Don’t move, I’ll get you some water. Sound good?”
“Mhm. You’re the best,” you gave him a quick peck and he was off. You didn’t really think about kissing him, it was a reflex that you couldn’t control.
From different spots scattered around the place, your friends all collectively saw you and Steve’s quick kiss. Various reactions of eye rolls, smiles, and eyebrow raises ensued but they were all thinking the same thing. When would you two finally get together?
After the collective moment of briefly watching you two interact, they went back to whatever they were doing before. Eddie trying to convince the bartender to give his band a slot, Robin playing a game of darts against a random stranger, Nancy and Jonathan creating narratives for strangers throughout the place.
You waited for Steve and stayed put as promised, but got antsy when he was taking a while. To be fair, it had probably only been five minutes, but any time without him felt longer. You stood on your tip toes trying to find him, when you did, you wished you hadn’t.
He was talking to a girl, a pretty one. Damn it.
Her hair was shiny and soft and seemed perfectly in place even in the sweaty atmosphere. Her smile perfect with teeth that looked super clean and white. Worst of all, her hand was on his arm as she laughed at one of his jokes. Jokes that should be meant for you.
Jealousy was a bitch.
You wanted to push your way over there, to nudge her away from him and take her spot. You wanted to have your hand on him and you wanted to be on the receiving end of his humour. You hated the feeling, like reality was coming back to you because he wasn’t yours, he never had been.
Then, the stranger from earlier was next to you again.
Steve was graciously turning the girl down. She was really pretty, seemed nice, too. She wasn’t you, though. He made some kind of self deprecating joke to make her feel better and he shifted at the arm she placed on him. Lately the only touch he welcomed was yours. He apologized to her, grabbing his two waters off the counter and turning around to find you.
He didn’t like what he saw.
The guy who you danced with for like two minutes earlier in the night was back, leaned in way too close to you for Steve’s liking. Rationally, somewhere in his mind Steve knew it was probably just so you could hear him. But, that’s the funny thing with jealousy, rational thoughts go out the window.
He wanted to storm over and push the guy away from you, to tell him to fuck off and stop trying because you were his. But that was a lie. You weren’t really his, and he wasn’t yours. You weren’t doing anything wrong, you weren’t even touching the guy and still, Steve was fuming.
Instead of storming, Steve walked as casually as he could muster until he was behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you against him. You stumbled a little, surprised because you didn’t see him coming, but when you smelled Steve’s cologne, you relaxed into him.
“Here’s your water, babe.”
“Thanks.”
You chugged it down, and while you drank, Steve stared the other boy down. He was conveying a message with his fixed gaze.
She’s taken. Go away. She’s with me, not you.
The guy walked away, muttering something along the lines of ‘asshole,’ under his breath and retreating. The relief Steve felt was immediate, because you were in his embrace, after all.
You finished your water, feeling refreshed and clear. The song playing was a great one, and you started to sway again, this time right against Steve who was still holding you against his front. This time, he moved with you easily. His hips grinding against your ass not so subtly and you loved it.
It was getting arousing, the way he groaned in your ear when you moved a certain way, the grip on your waist tightening as if he had to let out tension somehow. He was turned on and you knew it, you felt it.
When you pushed yourself into him harder, he couldn’t take it anymore and leaned down so his mouth was next to your ear, “bathroom. Now.”
He was walking away before you could muster a reply, but he knew you’d follow.
You did, staying a few paces behind him but making sure you could see where he was going. He walked into the hallway with the bathrooms with you in tow, heading into the furthest one from the rest of the bar.
As soon as you were through the door, he was rushing to kiss you and press you against it, flipping the lock so nobody would disturb you. He pushed himself against you, his hands wandering all over like they couldn’t settle. You had one hand in his hair, the other squeezing his shoulder.
It was like all of the built up tension throughout the night had finally snapped. The car ride over with you on Steve’s lap, the glimpses of jealousy, the dancing together that eventually brought you here.
The kiss was a mess of tongues, fast paced and probably the most heated you’d ever felt with Steve. You didn’t know if it was the environment of the bar, if it was the shift from the perfect day rearing its head, or if it was everything you couldn’t say being conveyed.
Steve pulled you off the door, walking you over to the sink and helping you to sit up on the counter where he could fit himself between your thighs. His hands cradled your head for a minute, kissing you again with so much passion, so much force, your mind was a blur of Steve and nothing else.
His hands then traveled up your legs, pushing the skirt of your dress up along with them until it was up around your waist, leaving your underwear in sight. His kisses shifted down to your neck, then he pulled the collar of your dress down to suck a hickey into your skin where it could be hidden later. A reminder for you, and nobody else.
Then, he was kneeling, his lips now moving up your legs until he was teasing the insides of your thighs, riling you up.
“Steve.”
“Hm?”
“You’re teasing me.”
“Thought you liked to be teased, pretty. You’ve been teasing me ever since you got into the damn van.”
You scoffed, “you’re the one who pulled me onto your lap.”
“Always blaming me, huh?”
You were about to reply when you were cut off by your own gasp at the feeling of Steve’s fingers finding your clit over your underwear.
“Steve, come on.”
“What is it, honey? Tell me what you want.”
Your hips were squirming, searching for relief, “please touch me. Mmm, want your mouth.”
“Only because you asked so nicely.”
Definitely not because he’d been dying to taste you since he had you on his lap. He moved your panties aside, and leaned in to lick a stripe up to your clit. He was calculated and quick, knowing exactly what to do to please you.
You leaned back, holding yourself up with one hand and the other buried in his hair, your legs thrown over his shoulders. You couldn’t help but moan when he sucked your clit into his mouth, grateful for the blaring music that blocked out any noises you made.
As good as he was making you feel, you couldn’t wait any longer to have him, so you pulled him back using your grip on his hair. He looked up at you, slightly concerned and confused.
“Something wrong?”
“Not at all. Just don’t wanna wait anymore.”
“Yeah? You want me?”
“So bad.”
He stood up, letting your legs fall from his shoulders and leaning in to kiss you. His hands were busy finding his wallet, then the condom that was in it. The kiss grew messy due to Steve’s distraction, and you moved to kiss at his neck, giving him some room to breathe.
While Steve ripped the package open, your hands worked quickly to undo his belt and his pants, pushing them down along with his underwear enough to free him of his confines.
He groaned, slipping the condom on and tossing the wrapper aside before pulling you closer to him so you were sat on the edge of the counter. Your legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck.
“Still okay? You’re ready for me?”
“Yes, Steve. Please.”
“I’ll take care of you.”
Steve didn’t waste any more time, lining himself up and pushing into you with ease considering how wet you were, and how in tune you were with his body. He gave you a second to adjust, but when your legs squeezed around him, pushing him deeper, his resolve collapsed.
He pulled himself out of you almost completely before pushing back in, quick, hard, deep. His grip was tight around your back, keeping you steady and close. Steve was a careful partner, even in more intense moments like this one.
Something about the way he was fucking you, the added roughness to his actions had your mind losing focus of anything that wasn’t Steve.
“Fuck. You feel so good,” he was breathing heavily, moans falling into the space between you. He kissed you again, but it quickly became an uncoordinated thing because of his pace. The kiss broke but the two of you stayed close, your mouths hovering over each other to breathe in every sound.
It wasn’t long before he felt you tightening around him, your pelvis squirming against his because you were close. He drew back enough to snake a hand down to your clit, giving you the added sensation you needed to reach your end.
“That’s it. You’re gonna come for me, huh?”
All you could manage was a nod, your mouth agape to heave in as much air as you could, your eyebrows scrunched with that expression he knew you made before you came.
“Go on, pretty. All over me.”
“Fuck. Steve.”
Your head fell back, your orgasm hitting you as hard as Steve’s movements. He kept going, pushing you through it and making it more intense than it already was. He pulled out of you when he could tell you were sensitive, giving you a moment to catch your breath.
“You didn’t come?”
“Not yet, babe. Want you to again. Can you?”
“Shit. Yeah.”
He lifted you off the counter, setting you down and spinning you so that you faced the mirror, bent over the sink with Steve standing behind you. He nudged your legs apart so he could fit between them, your skirt still flipped up to give him access.
Steve’s eyes locked onto yours through the mirror, checking your face to see if you were ready to go again, and your eager nod told him you were. He pushed into you again, his pace picking up right away. His hips smacking against your ass, an arm around your middle and a hand teasing your nipples through the fabric of your dress.
Your eyes squeezed shut at the heat of it all, the overwhelming pleasure leaving you completely fucked. Steve didn’t like that, though, and he moved a hand onto the back of your neck.
“No. Open your eyes.”
You obeyed, it was hard not to when he used a commanding tone that was harsher than what you’d heard from him before. Your eyes opening and looking at him in the mirror yet again.
“Good girl. Watch me fuck you. Who’s making you feel like this?”
“You, Steve. Only you.”
“That’s right, only me. Nobody else can get you like me, huh?”
Your response got stuck in your throat after a hard thrust from Steve, a moan coming out instead. He was so completely lost in you that he didn’t really know what he was saying, only that he wanted it to give a message.
Mine.
He never thought he’d be a possessive person, but he supposes being in love with someone who he only has sex with would complicate things. Love wasn’t what he was conveying with this round, he was fucking the jealousy out of your systems, reminding himself that you only gave yourself to him this way. For now, at least.
He pulled you up from your spot leaning on the countertop, your head falling back onto his shoulder and your hand grabbing the back of his head. His pace kept up through it all, chasing his high as well as yours.
“Please.”
You didn’t even know what you were asking for, relief, anything at all. You were encompassed by Steve and his feel, his smell, you didn’t have time to think about anything other than how he was making you feel.
Your legs were shaky and Steve’s grip around your middle played a big part in keeping you upright. He was working you both up to a sweat, foreheads damp and bodies warm.
“Can feel you squeezing me, pretty. You gonna come again?”
“Yeah. Don’t stop.”
“Never gonna stop with you.”
You couldn’t stay up anymore, and collapsed over the counter yet again when you felt your second orgasm coming on, and Steve followed. He leaned over you while he got you through it, encouragement and praises muttered into your ear between his own moans.
“Fucking shit,” he came with you then, his hips losing rhythm until he was stilled in you and all that was left were sounds of you two trying to catch your breaths.
When the two of you came down, Steve’s previous roughness seemed to melt away completely, his hands running over you and his forehead against the back of your shoulder.
He got up after a couple minutes, pressing a soft kiss between your shoulder blades and pulling away from you to get rid of the condom and right his clothes. He came back to you with a wad of toilet paper in hand, wetting it in the sink and then using it to clean you up.
You hissed at the sensitivity, and he kissed your back again and whispered an, ‘I know, you’re okay,’ into your skin.
He fixed your clothes for you after that, pulling you up and turning you around so you were facing him. Your eye makeup smudged and your forehead shiny with sweat, but your mouth was twisted in a lazy smile.
He brushed your hair away from your face, “did I hurt you?”
“No, you were perfect.”
“Okay. Okay, good.”
He was concerned that he was too harsh with you, letting his emotions get the best of him. While he knows you would tell him if he did something wrong that had to do with sex, he couldn’t help but worry about you.
“We should probably get back out there.”
“Maybe we should fix your makeup a little, honey. You look like you just got fucked.”
You laughed, “that’s completely your fault, you know.”
“Yeah, so let me help.”
He ran some paper towel under the faucet, getting it damp and then using two fingers to grip your chin and tilt your face up to him. He swiped away at the makeup beneath your eyes, his touch soft and careful. When he was satisfied with his job, he pecked your nose and moved to let you look.
You smiled at his softness after sex, his willingness and need to take care of you even in the aftermath. He came back to hug you from behind, to kiss your cheek and your neck once and then perch his chin on your shoulder.
“Still pretty even with a fucked up hairdo.”
“Again, your fault.”
“I know, sorry. Can't help it, I like having my hands on you.”
You glanced down to where they were resting on your stomach, “yeah, I know. I like it, too.”
“That’s my girl.”
That’s my girl. Did he mean that? Did he really want you to be his? You really hoped so because you wanted that more than anything. Tonight was yet another shift in everything, the open affection, the neediness and jealousy that brought you to the bathroom. It had to be more than just sex, there was no way it wasn’t.
That scared you almost as much as it excited you.
“‘Kay, I’ll let you fix your hair and wait in the hall. Sound good?”
“Mhm. Thanks, Steve.”
You shared a quick kiss, another thing that felt like something a boyfriend and girlfriend would share. Something soft and languid. Easy.
He backed away and left the bathroom to let you finish up, and was startled by Eddie walking into the hallway at the same time.
“There you are, Harrington! I’ve been looking for you all over. It’s time to go, Robin and Nancy said so. So we have to listen.”
“Oh, yeah. Okay.”
How long had he been in there with you? Shit, Eddie was about to witness you walk out of the same bathroom.
Just as Steve thought it, you walked out into the hall and stopped short when you saw Eddie talking to Steve. Both of their heads turned to look at you, and the long haired boy smirked teasingly because he caught you. Red handed and all.
“Well, look who it is!”
“Um, Steve was just helping me fix my.. hair. Yeah.”
“Okay, sure he was.”
Steve shook his head, turned to look at you and attempted to change the subject because this was awkward. “Eddie said it’s time to head out, you ready?”
“Sure, lead the way.”
You trailed behind the boys, Steve turning to make sure you were still there every couple seconds. Eddie noticed it, “real discreet, Harrington.”
“Shut up, Munson.”
-
The drive home was much more relaxed than the way there, everyone subdued and lazy from the quiet of the car. You sat next to Steve this time, his hand on your leg and your head on his shoulder.
Neither of you cared about any ideas the others would get then, it wasn’t even on your minds.
Besides, they all knew anyway.
They got to your house first, and Eddie turned to look at you with a smile, “we’ve arrived at our first destination, miss.”
“Thanks, Eds.”
“‘Course, see ya.”
A chorus of ‘bye’s and ‘goodnight’s from your friends, a squeeze on your leg from Steve, “I’ll walk you up.”
“Okay.”
You got out of the car, and Steve came along, walking with you up to your porch which really wasn’t far at all, but the gesture was sweet nonetheless.
You paused at your door, Steve’s hand trailing down your arm to grab your hand in his.
“I had a good night. I really like you, pretty.”
Your breath caught, because that could have easily been an admission of feelings. You weren’t sure if he was saying it that way, or if he even realized. He called you his best friend, that must be what he meant.
“I really like you too, Steve.”
“I’ll see you soon?”
“Yeah, you know you will.”
“I’m that irresistible, huh?”
“Shut it, Steven.”
He just smiled and shrugged at you, and he leaned in to give you a slow kiss. He was fully aware your friends were probably watching, but he wasn’t worried about that because they knew enough already. He wanted to kiss you, so he did.
You returned it despite the shock you felt at him giving you a kiss goodnight in front of the prying eyes of your nosy friends. You loved Steve, and you’d never turn down a kiss from him.
He pulled away, squeezing your hand that he still held, “Goodnight, babe.”
“‘Night.”
He walked off while you unlocked your door and went in, shutting it behind you and leaning your head onto the wood because what the fuck? Tonight was definitely something you’d have to work yourself up over later.
When Steve got back in the van he was met with everyone’s eyes on him, some smiles and some eyebrows arched at him.
“You’re so gone for her it’s insane.”
“Thank you for the revelation, Robin.”
“Why aren’t you guys dating yet?”
“It’s complicated.”
An exasperated breath from Eddie was heard by everyone, “it’s really not. You guys love each other, simple. Just be honest and then voila! It’s pretty clear to literally everyone that you’re a thing, just make it official and put us all out of our misery.”
Steve just turned to look out the window, he wasn’t in the mood for an intervention or a spell out of what he knew he should do. He was scared to be honest and open, having been hurt in the past because of it.
“Just drive, Eddie.”
-
It’s been almost a week since that night, and things between you and Steve were.. different.
You haven’t had sex since then, no late night phone call that could only be one person, no sleepovers, nothing. You only saw him when you hung out with the others, and it was strange.
You missed him, you missed his touch and his smell and his cuddles in the morning. Being in love with him only made it worse.
You, of course, overthought that night at the bar. Did he ditch you for that girl he talked to? Was he freaked out because your friends knew and he didn’t want anything to do with you if it wasn’t a secret? It felt like he was pulling away from you and it was scary, terrifying.
Steve, on the other hand, realized something after the bar. He realized that you had feelings for him too because why else would you welcome his touch so readily at any moment, why else would you treat him the way you did. Maybe Eddie had a hand in this realization, but either way, it was finally in Steve’s head.
He felt the change in you and it scared him. Of course Steve wanted to be with you, but he was so nervous that something would go wrong. The last thing he wanted was to lose you and your friendship because he couldn’t take care of you properly as a girlfriend.
Even though he’d been treating you as his all along, the title made it more real. Made it easier to lose.
The pouring rain was the perfect backdrop to both of your emotions lately. The confusion and indecisiveness on what to do next lingering.
Your thoughts were running wild, faster than you could keep up with, but you knew the one thing you needed to do was be honest with Steve. You needed to tell him how you felt before he pulled away completely, because you weren’t letting that happen. He treated you like a lover would, and you were ready to stop ignoring that.
His house wasn’t too far from yours, so you decided it would be a great idea to bike over in the rain to see him. You guessed people really do act like fools when they’re in love.
A knock on the front door brought Steve out of his whirling thoughts of you and what the hell he was going to do.
He walked over and opened the door to find just the person he was thinking about. You stood in front of him, drenched from the rain and panting. Still beautiful.
“Hi, Steve.”
“What the hell are you doing? You’re gonna get sick. Get in here.”
He pulled you inside by your sleeve, running up the stairs to get you a towel and a change of clothes because he couldn’t go a minute without making sure you were alright. He could worry about why you showed up unannounced after you stopped shivering.
Steve came back and wrapped the towel around you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to give you warmth then kneeling to untie your shoes and help you slip them off. You could’ve done it yourself, he knew that, but he liked to do things for you anyways.
When he stood, he handed you the clothes he brought down for you, some sweats you left in your drawer, and ushered you to the downstairs bathroom to change.
“Go, put these on then we can talk, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you.”
You shut the door softly behind you and changed as fast as you could. Partly because you wanted to talk to Steve as soon as possible, and partly because you were really cold. Biking in the rain was a stupid thing to do but you were about to drive yourself insane with your stressed out thoughts.
Steve was who you needed to see, so you came to see him.
Once you changed, your wet clothes hung up in the shower, you walked out to find Steve. He was sitting on the couch in the living room, his head turning when he heard you approach. You walked around to the front of the couch, sitting down when Steve patted the spot next to him.
“Is everything okay?”
He couldn’t stop worrying, wondering why you showed up this way when usually you’d call him and he’d drive. Something had to be wrong for you to go out in the pouring rain and end up on his doorstep.
It was especially concerning to him because he knew things were off the last few days, and he knew he was pulling away from you for no good reason. He was only doing it because he loved you so much and the idea of messing anything up scared him.
“Yeah, it’s fine. I just wanted to talk to you.. if that’s okay?”
“‘Course it’s okay, honey. I’m here for you. What’s going on?”
You had to take a deep breath to prepare yourself, to get ready to spill your heart out to Steve. It’s what you came here to do, and as much as you wanted to back out, you couldn’t. You had to see this through even if it’d break you in the process.
“Ever since that night at the bar, things have been weird, don’t you think? We haven’t done anything just us and I miss it. I’ve just been thinking so much and I wanted to come and see you. I wanted to know what was going on because you seem to be pushing me away, and if you wanna end it that’s, um, that’s fine just tell me now.”
Steve was frozen, taking in all of the information you just dumped on him at once. He heard it all but he couldn’t get past the part where you said the reason you came to see him was because he was pushing you away, being different. He had no idea you cared enough to risk a cold—which was like, your least favorite thing ever—just to see him.
“You came all the way here because I was acting differently?”
He was so fucked.
“Yeah. Is that weird?”
“No. No, it’s really sweet. I’m sorry for making you feel bad.”
“Stop. That’s the thing, Steve, you don’t make me feel bad. You do the opposite, really.”
Oh god, you were gonna do it. You were about to confess your love for him and there was absolutely no turning back now. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your palms clammy.
“I do?”
“Yeah. You make me feel so good. Like, the best I’ve ever felt and I don’t just mean.. you know. I mean all the time. Just being around you.”
Holy shit. It was happening. Steve could tell where this was going and he was buzzing. He wanted to tell you first, but he supposed you were braver than he ever could be. He could feel your nerves, though, and he reached over to grab your hands that were fiddling in your lap.
Your eyes flicked to his when he did, encouragement and care written all over his face. It was enough to get you to keep talking.
“So, um. Ever since I moved here and Eddie introduced us, you’ve been my closest friend, and I want to tell you I think you always will be. But, I was hoping maybe we could be more than that?”
“You mean…”
“I mean I’m in love with you.”
“Really?”
Steve was someone who needed reassurance, who needed to know everything because he hated being blindsided, and you knew that. You knew pretty much everything about him.
“Yeah, really. For a really long time. I realized that day, with the diner and stuff. But, I think I’ve loved you since we started.. ya know. I just never knew it.”
“I can't believe this is happening.”
“I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanna hear.. we can forget about it and-”
“No! No, it’s not- I love you, too. I’m in love with you. Have been for months.”
“We’re idiots, aren’t we?”
“Completely. But I do love you. I’m better when I’m with you, better because of you. I want to be with you, and I don’t wanna hide it anymore, okay?”
“So, I’m your girlfriend?”
“Yeah, pretty. Can finally call you my girl.”
“I’ve been yours.. I never thought about anyone else.”
“Me either. I think you're it for me and it’s scary. I don’t wanna lose you and that’s why I’ve been distant. I’m sorry.”
You understood where he was coming from, and you knew that he had a lot of baggage from his past relationships and childhood, you only hoped he’d let you be there to help him carry it. To take some of the weight off his shoulders.
“It’s okay, Steve. Everything’s okay. I love you and nothing’s gonna change that.”
He pulled you into him then, his hand on the back of your neck to guide your lips to his. He kissed you without any restraint, putting all of his love for you there and it felt incredible. It was honest and raw and it was a promise of the future. One with you two together.
You were the happiest you’d been, Steve was fully yours and he was kissing you like he wanted you to know that. You only pulled away when you ran out of breath, leaning your forehead against his and squeezing his hand that was still in yours.
Steve pulled away and smiled that devastating smile at you, his hand still a comfort weight on the back of your neck, his eyes soft and sweet.
“Sleepover?”
“I kinda already told my mom I was staying here.”
He shook his head at you, “presumptuous of you, pretty.”
“I’d like to call it hopeful. And smart! I was thinking ahead.”
“Of course you were.”
The night was full of touches and kisses and teasing. Your dynamic stronger than it was before and it was perfect. It was everything. You cuddled in bed without any hesitation at all, your head on Steve’s chest and an arm tossed over his stomach, his arms hugging you close.
As you were dozing off you felt a kiss to your forehead, an ‘I love you’ spoken into your skin. You said it back and then, you were asleep.
-
When Eddie found out about your relationship with Steve being official, he practically screamed ‘finally!’ before giving you a hug.
“I knew you guys were gonna end up together! Eddie the matchmaker, you’re welcome.”
You and Steve looked at each other and grinned. You were thinking the same thing: maybe you really should be thanking Eddie because if it weren’t for him you two would’ve never met. If it weren’t for him you would’ve gone your whole life without knowing the best boy that was Steve Harrington.
“Thanks, Eds.”
Steve looked at you, and everytime he did he practically had hearts in his eyes. His emotions were written all over him.
“Yeah. Guess I owe you one, Munson.”
-
And it’s just as good as I knew it would be / Stay with me, I don’t want you to leave <3
༄
if you enjoyed, please reblog! it would mean a lot!
Note: You can blame @millenialcatlady (lovingly) for the angst in this part. She is reminding me daily to appreciate a wider range of emotions in fic (i.e. more than horniness) and that spilled out big time here. You can also thank her for the length, because without the part that happens mid way, this part - as originally planned - would have been literally half as long lmao
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, PIV sex / Unprotected sex / Car sex / semi public sex, fingering, teasing, dirty talk, slight degradation, slight praise kink, kinda inappropriate PDA in a grocery store, brief mention of masturbation (m), mentions of food and food consumption, Angst with a capital A (you are pretty mean to Steve at a certain point but then we realize you might have intimacy issues), enemies to lovers continuation
Steve is fucked. He knows it from the minute he touches you that he’s crossed a line he’s not going to be able to uncross. But you just got under his skin so much and on his nerves so frequently and the heat in that back room had been so unbearable he wanted to rip his clothes off - and yours in the process.
And that’s what’s got him banging his head against the counter today, while he sits overly early for his morning shift. He almost could have gotten away with blaming the heat - both the heat of the moment and the heat in that damn back room. He almost could have been able to chalk it up to a mix of repeated-bad-date-blue-balls and a hyperactive sex drive in need of an outlet.
But then he’d called you sweetheart. And you’d reacted like that.
summary: jj maybank is just so gorgeous that you can hardly say anything to his face…
wc: 1.5k
warning(s): none?
feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
a/n: hey hey hey, i’m back baby 😙 also ty @pogueszn for helping me out with this one! i hope y’all like it, ik i haven’t written jj in awhile… (also stream gorgeous by taylor swift!! it slaps)
congrats!! can i please request " hey, now... i'm not going anywhere. i'm gonna stay right here. right with you. " with JJ?🥰
It was known to the pogues that JJ wandered off. He would often get distracted with almost anything that he laid his eyes on. However, since rumour travelled around that JJ came across his father, Luke you weren’t as mellow as the rest of the pogues.
“Do you think JJ is okay?” You blurted from now where. Sarah was telling some crazy Kook stories and they all turned to face you.
“Why wouldn’t he be?” Pope asked, settling his hand over your shoulder.
“He ran into Luke… I’m worried.”
“He’s fine.” Pope said. “It’s JJ.”
You didn’t believe Pope. Although Pope was the genius in the group, when it came to JJ he never had the slightest clue about his home life.
“I’m probably going to crash on the sofa.” You brushed Pope’s affection off your shoulder, and bid your goodbyes.
“He’ll be fine”. Kie gave you a weak smile and that gave you enough to know that JJ wasn’t fine.
———
You didn’t know how long you were asleep for but the sounds of thunder, shakes and harsh gale that crashed onto your skin awoken you. You frantically got up from the sofa, shuffling around to find the light to only stubble on something that connected you to the floor.
“Holy Fuck, Y/N. Are you okay?” JJ mumbled, holding in a laugh as he helped you up.
“When did you get in?”
“About three hours ago.” JJ said. “Are you okay?”
“No. I’m not okay, JJ.” You hissed and JJ inverted his brows. “Why didn’t you wake me up? You were supposed to be home ages ago.”
“I lost track of time, wave. I’m sorry.” JJ was taken back by the outburst. He didn’t really understand why it got under your skin, you guys weren’t even dating for that long. “Are you sure you are okay?”
“I’m fine. I was just worried…” You sniffled, hiding your face so JJ couldn’t see you. JJ signed, pulling you into his lap and gently placed your hand on his face.
“I’m all good, baby. I’m not even hurt.” JJ whispered, pressing light kisses to your hair.
“Don’t ever leave again. I wasn’t sure if you were alive.” You whispered, tracing your index finger on the bridge of his nose.
“I’ll always survive, baby. I’m not that easy to get rid of.” JJ chuckled to make the situation a little lighter.
“I’m sorry for over reacting.” You sniffled.
“Don’t be. It’s nice to have someone worry about you. It makes me feel like my life sorta matters.”
“You’ll always matter.” You said. “You matter to me.”
“I know, and I’m grateful for you.” JJ smiled and slowly gave you a tender kiss. “Get some sleep.”
“What if—“
“Hey…now.. i’m not going anywhere.” JJ promised. “I’m going to stay here right here.”
That was all you needed to hear before you fell back into your slumber. JJ was safe, and that’s all that mattered.
areudirty
2087
tangentwithtanner
