MORE TO LOSE - CHAPTER ONE [s.h]
A/N: Reader begins with the nickname of 'Bunny' since I didn't want to use y/n. This one contains no smut, just establishing the characters before anything. Nancy is briefly featured in this fic, Reader is a little bit more wealthy than Steve.
Tagged: @jamdoughnutmagician @stevesxyellowxsweater @palmtreesx3 @deerdoedeer95 @quinnsharrington @finalmoondragon @keerygal @her-mortal-projections
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w.c: 2.3k
Bartender!Steve au!
SUMMARY: Steve meets you when he's working one night. Unaware that his life is about to change
⤷ NEXT
It was June when you first met him, leaning against the wall of your local bar. You had noticed him from past visits but he had never spoken to you.
“Got a light sweetheart?” His voice emerged from the shadows.
Shrugging as he shook his lighter, even though you both knew that it makes it worse to do that. Rummaging in your small shoulder bag, you prize out your emergency lighter.
You raise the lighter up to the unlit cigarette dangling in his mouth, covering it slightly from the wind. His eyes boring onto you as you lit the cigarette immediately.
“There we go darling, you’d be lost without me” you winked at him, taking back the lighter and slipping inside.
The bar was its usual thriving self, the hot weather caused the staff to blast the AC on high. Your nipples pinched against your thin top as you made your way to the bar.
After ordering a gin and tonic with the least attractive staff member, you reached a standing table and observed the surroundings.
“Thanks for the lighter”, he whispered, making you jump.
You stared at him, a twinkle in his eye as he cracked a grin at your annoyance.
“I’m Steve” he smiled, extending his hand out to you.
You took his hand in yours, it was significantly bigger than yours. His thumb stroked the side of your wrist before you let him go. It was calloused.
He was wearing some light blue jeans and a white top with a small name tag, and his job role underlined that read 'managerial bartender', a silver chain dangled around his neck. You pointed at the name tag with a flirty smile. he wasn't your usual type.
Standing shoulder to shoulder, his eyes flickered between you and the busy bar. You examined him, his brown curls brightening each time the strobe light hit them. His long eyelashes slowly blinking as he looked at you.
“I’m Bunny” you said breaking the silence, watching as he bit his lip at the mention of your nickname.
It was a nickname that was given to you years ago, you didn't particularly like it, but no one else stuck around to give you a better one.
He leant closer, his breath hot against your skin. Beginning to speak when a small cough broke his concentration, you felt him sigh next to you.
A brunette girl was standing next to Steve; her eyes were frantically looking at your closeness. Neither you or Steve spoke to her for a second; she smiled and copied Steve by extending her hand.
“I’m Nancy,” she said, matter-of-factly. As if you were meant to know who she was.
You stared at her and Steve, as if to say “who the fuck is this bitch?”
He finally opened his mouth, speaking only to you.
“She’s my ex, she’s in here every night,” he said painfully, gazing into your eyes for a way out.
You rolled your eyes; of course you found the only attractive guy in the place who had an ex hanging off his arm. You smiled politely, downing your drink and leaning into Steve.
''When you are completely free, give me a call,'' you said suggestively, taking your favourite pen out and writing your number down.
Glancing at Nancy, you took a step closer, took the piece of card, and slid your hand between the tight clasp of his black jeans. You placed the card at the top. He looked down at you as you licked your fingers and pushed the card deeper into his jeans.
His breath shuddered at your touch, his pupils dilated as you placed your finger on his mouth with a smirk.
“Stay for a drink” he whispered, his cheeks flushed red.
“Bye Steve” you reached up to his lips and hovered over them before walking away.
You knew how to get men to chase you but you weren’t completely sure if Steve would.
For the next couple of days, you kept getting called but once you picked up the receiver they hung up. At first, you didn’t realise that it was Steve until the last call.
It was amusing to know that he was nervous to call you, wanting to keep up the tension you didn’t dial his number back.
It was a few weeks later when you saw him next, the bar was quieter than usual for a Friday night. He was leaning over the counter talking to who you could only guess was Nancy.
His body language was withdrawn as he spoke to her, obvious that he didn’t want to talk with her. So you took a breath before walking over,
“Excuse me, sir, is this woman bothering you?” You said loudly, pushing your chest out.
The moment his eyes locked onto you, his body language relaxed, and he smirked, his cheeks blushing behind the bright neon lights.
''Bunny'' he breathed, sliding his tongue across his teeth and lips.
Your nickname in his mouth gave you goosebumps. It felt horrible in everyone else's mouth, but it felt nice rolling off his tongue.
He walked with you away from Nancy; a few people disappeared to booths, leaving you both alone. His attention was directed at you, and you hated to admit when men had an effect on you. But there was something different about him.
Steve was wearing black jeans, a black top with the same chain. His badge twinkled in the light, it made you smile as you looked up at him.
''The usual?'' he asked without taking his eyes off you.
He poured out your drink with such care, taking a moment before charging you. You turned to look for 'Nancy', but thankfully for you both, she was nowhere to be seen.
''Does she hang around here often?'' you asked, taking a sip of your chilled drink.
“She leaves when she notices that I’m not going to give her what she wants.” He sadly sighed.
The bitterness of the tonic, the coldness of the ice and the sharpness of the gin tingled against your mouth. Since meeting him, the bar had become so intoxicating that you never wanted more than one drink.
If he played his cards right, you just might answer his call.
You talked with him for another two drinks, unaware that he was clocking off sooner than you expected, you hung around for him, which you never did.
Men always chased you but this didn't mean that you'd let him invite you in. All you suggested was to walk him home.
He was quiet after leaving the bar, it was as if his barrier had disappeared. So you bit your tongue and found his hand in the dark.
You weren’t usually soft or into hand holding but you felt that he needed this more than you.
Call it a feeling.
Which was rare for you; feelings were something that you hid deep inside you. Never feeling them until it consumed you.
The walk to his place wasn’t long, and the silence wasn’t awkward or boring. You watched the brief nightlifeof Hawkins pass you by.
“How does the bar thrive in a place like Hawkins?” You finally asked, breaking the silence.
His head tipped down before looking at you with a smile, his eyes moving from both eyes quickly.
“Well, sometimes it doesn’t. But other times, it’s so packed I can hardly move,” he sighed with a tired smile.
You wanted to press him more about the bar; it seemed to be an interest of his until he stopped at a small building. It was above an old record store in the middle of the town centre of Hawkins.
It was nondescript; you had gone past it many times without taking any notice of it, but now you stood in front of it. You began to look at the peeling of the red paint and the wonky “3”, a rusted gold number barely hanging on the door.
He didn't need to say the line; all the men she had been with had paused before their place. Usually, gesturing as if you weren't aware that they lived there.
''Thank you for another chill evening. Steve,'' you breathed, taking a step forward.
The warm night breeze lifted your hair; his eye softened as you were now inches away from his face. Slowly taking his face in your hands and planting a kiss on his lips.
He melted into the kiss, like they always did, but he wasn't rough or aggressive. There was no push or pull; he didn't try to move you closer to his front door.
His hands did fall onto your hips only lightly, careful. As if you'd shatter if he touched you. Steve was the one who pulled away first; his pupils were pulsating under the flickering streetlight.
You whispered 'good night' into his ear before turning away, readying yourself for the walk home.
''Bunny'' his voice was quiet; he had taken a step back. Seeming further away from you.
Your eyes tightened, hoping to yourself that he didn't ask you to stay. You couldn't sleep with him; you wouldn't.
It always ruined things with you and men, and there was something in you that couldn't do that with him. But you turned around anyway, his eyes pulling you in.
He seemed so soft around the edges that you were afraid that your jagged edges would make him bleed if he were cut.
''Come in for a coffee at least?'' he said, giving you a tight smile.
Sighing, you told yourself you wouldn't go inside, but you were definitely not fucking him.
His place was small but nice, books scattered a few vacant bookshelves. His coffee table had the ends of cigarette butts, scrap pieces of paper and pens on it.
Perching yourself on one of the leather sofas, watching as he made the coffee. Candles unlit sat in the corner, a couple of plants perched on counters and sideboards.
He had a few paintings and wall hangings, making the place seem less empty. It was homely, one of the nicer apartments you had been in.
Taking the coffee out of his hands when he passed it to you, it bellowed steam into the cool apartment. The noise from the road below vibrated against the windows as you both sat there.
You were unfamiliar with the concept of just talking to men, it was rare that you found yourself in a relationship. Apart from those very few times.
Steve was different, he seemed shyer. Not used to speaking with other women, it made you wonder how he was with Nancy. Before deciding to shake that image off.
“I should really go” you said, feeling rather disappointed.
“Well, if you give me a second. I’ll drive you” he said with a smile.
You protested against his kind offer but he won, his keys were in his hands before you could fight him anymore.
His car was parked right outside, the burgundy BMW. The leather seat were cold against your back as you sunk into the chair.
As he drove away from his small apartment, his hand slid down from the steering wheel and onto your knee. You didn’t ask him to move his hand, the radio played softly in the background.
It was nice, you felt safe around him. Nothing was expected from you as the houses and trees flew by in the window.
“You won't have to worry about Nancy again,” he sighed, his hands gripping the steering wheel.
It was obviously a big issue in his life and you hated a clingy ex but there was definitely something more there.
“Well don't push her away for my benefit” you said softly, squeezing his hand with a smile.
He didn't reply, deciding to change the subject. You wondered if he would be better at a different venue.
“I did try to call you” he squeaked, taking his eyes off the road for a second.
You found yourself laughing at what he thought was a confession, most men didn’t call and not speak.
“I know” you licked your lips as your smile widened.
His reactions were both cute and hot, seeing how flustered he got at your words and touch.
You told him to take the next left, it was down a dirt track. Your house bigger than his apartment, you guessed that it was a different tax bracket entirely but only by one.
His breath was taken away by the sight of it, people usually assumed you were lying when you tell them that you inherited the property.
The car crunched beneath the stones driveway, following the curves and bends until he arrived at the front entrance.
“It’s not mine, unfortunately sweetie” you smiled, squeezing his hand for reassurance.
Your fingers pushed down on the cool metal handle, your back turned away from him. Until you felt his hands gripping onto your shoulder,
“Wait” his voice was quiet, his eyes were tired.
You instinctively sighed, it was always at this part of night when they begged for you to let them inside.
But instead his eyes dropped to your lips, a soft expression on his face.
Fuck.
You were finding it difficult to ignore the pull towards him, from that first night that you recognised him.
He came across as cocky and arrogant but upon the few brief meetings, he was far from it.
Allowing him to pull you closer, it was the second time you had became close to his but this time you didn't pull away. His hands finding your hair, gripping onto the soft strands as his lips met yours.
You weren't one for feeling fireworks when you were kissed but you swore that something bubbled inside you as his hand slipped down your hair and onto your cheeks.
That night as you got into bed, the phone beside you rang. Letting it ring for a few moments before answering,
“Hey, sweetheart” his voice was deep and husky.
Everyone called you Bunny and nothing more but the words “sweetheart” sounded soft in his mouth.
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