Ship(s): Eddie Munson x fem!reader, Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Steve finds himself pining over the one girl he can't have, and he has no idea how to handle it. It's a good thing you notice before Eddie does, and, by God, is Steve's timing perfect.
Word Count: 9,330 words
Warnings: suggestive content (18+), jealous!Steve, Eddie slander, reader kind of cheats (emotionally?), pining and glum Steve, Steve's a little mean-spirited, reader wears a bikini, swearing, Stancy mention, everyone is a bitch to everyone, Eddie's an asshole, therapist Steve, insecure Eddie, talk of addiction, time skip
18+ Warnings: description of moaning, whimpering, veiled allusion to sex from another room, Steve & Dustin overhear
Note: Inspired by Rick Springfield's "Jessie's Girl". Set two years post-s4. (It didn't quite go in the direction I wanted it to, so I might rewrite this at some point. Or make an alternate version at least.)
☟ Continue below the fold ☟
May 15, 1986
Steve had seen plenty of beautiful women in his life. Pretty faces, pretty bodies, pretty eyes, he'd seen it all. But the woman currently browsing his organized shelves was, without a doubt, the most beautiful he had ever seen.
He couldn't exactly pin down what it was about you—maybe the way you were standing, or the way you cocked your head to the left while you read the titles, or even the way your hair was falling—but you were the most beautiful creature he had ever set eyes on.
You had been in the store multiple times recently; this was probably your fourth appearance this week. Steve gawked at you while you chose a movie every time, and he stuttered when he checked it out for you every time, and he blushed every time you met his gaze. He knew it, but he knew it was useless to try and cover it up. He'd just become more obvious if he tried to hide how in awe of you he was.
Robin hadn't been in the store the first few times you had been here, but she glanced over at you today, seeing where Steve's gaze had fallen.
"That's the girl?" she whispered, the color draining from her face.
Steve nodded. "She's gorgeous, isn't she?"
"Steve, you do not want to go after that one, I promise," Robin hissed frantically under her breath.
He frowned. "Why?"
Before Robin could answer, there was a screech from outside of the store. Their heads whipped toward the sound, seeing Eddie's van outside, Eddie himself hopping out and strolling into the store with his hands in his front jean pockets.
"Hey, Harrington!" Eddie said. Where he would normally lean on the counter to be a nuisance, he sauntered over to where you were standing.
"Hi, Eddie," Robin said, when Steve's usual reply didn't come, his eyes instead narrowed as he watched Eddie approach you. She opened her mouth and shut it quickly, knowing there was no way to soften the fall Steve was about to take.
Eddie looped his arms around your waist. You squeaked in surprised, but you were already smiling when you turned in his arms. "Eddie!"
He grinned at you. "Hiya, princess." He bent down, kissing you softly. You indulged in the kiss for a minute before pushing him away.
"Not now, Eds, we're in public," you said, voice shy and cheeks burning with embarrassment. You glanced in Steve's direction, concern flickering over your face when you caught sight of him.
Robin quickly spun Steve around so that you couldn't see his face. She took in his slightly dropped jaw, the shock in his eyes, the tiny tremble in his lower lip. "That's why," she said softly.
Steve cleared his throat with some difficulty. "Yeah," he said, throat constricted. "I get it. That's why."
~❊~
The usually lighthearted night laying on Steve's bed had turned sullen. In fact, it hadn't started lighthearted at all. When Robin finally got to Steve's house after spending the afternoon with Vickie, she found him awake yet unmoving on his bed, curled up on his side and staring at the wall.
"Steve?" she asked, setting her stuff down on the floor. "You alive over there?"
He gave a noncommittal hum of acknowledgement.
Robin sat down on the opposite side of his bed cautiously. He didn't move, and when it became clear he wasn't going to talk, she said, "Are you okay?"
Silence filled the next few seconds. Then Steve rolled onto his back. "No," he mumbled, looking the most despondent she had ever seen him. "It's not fair, Robs. How does Eddie "the Freak" Munson get a girlfriend before I do?"
Robin shrugged. "They've been together for a long time—before high school, before he became the social outcast."
Steve glared at her, but Robin knew it wasn't directed at her; Steve tended to glare at everything when he was upset about the girls he didn't successfully date. "And you know this how?"
"Because she's been my best friend for the past four years."
He pouted. "How come I've never seen her before now?"
Robin flopped down beside him. "She was in Eddie's original graduating class. She's been in college the past two years, and she didn't come back last summer—she was on an internship abroad. That's why Eddie's so clingy this summer. She's been complaining he hardly leaves her alone—"
Steve sat up. "She's complaining about him?"
A warning entered Robin's eyes. "Not like that, dingus. Don't you try anything. They're still happily in love."
Steve harrumphed. "I'm doomed, Robin."
She heaved a sympathetic sigh. "No, you're not, Steve. You're gonna find someone, it's just..."
"Just that everybody else found their someone first?" he groaned. "I just can't win, can I?"
Robin looked down at her hands, awkwardly playing with the bracelet Vickie had given her. She glanced over at Steve's glum face, feeling an echo of the pain he felt in her chest. He looked like she had when she found out Vickie was dating someone else, a year prior.
She patted Steve's shoulder. "It'll get better, I promise. Just look at me, right?"
Steve sighed. "Yeah, I guess so," he said, but Robin could tell he wasn't convinced.
~❊~
Steve felt like the universe was against him. Of course the girl of his dreams was already taken, he wasn't surprised just looking at her. But by Eddie Munson? Now that made Steve want to scream into a pillow.
And it wasn't like Eddie had managed to score you with his winning charm, either. You'd been friends with him for so long, you'd dated him for so long—it was like he was the default option just because he was familiar.
Steve knew his thoughts weren't fair to either you or Eddie. He'd seen the two of you interact time and time again since the day his heart dropped to his feet, and he knew you were infatuated with Eddie. Even if Eddie was the familiar, default option in your love life, you had no problem with it. You looked at Eddie like he'd hung the moon and stars. Eddie looked at you no differently, and he was constantly holding you and touching you and Jesus Christ it made Steve sick.
Romance of all kinds was making Steve's stomach churn these days. Every time he saw Nancy and Jonathan, he felt so bitter and angry he had to put as much distance between himself and the happy couple as he could. It was just another reminder of the girl he'd lost.
Every time he saw Robin and Vickie, bittersweet tears welled up in his eyes. He was happy for Robin, of course he was, and he was incredibly proud of the fact he'd been right about Vickie all along. But, God, did it hurt to see his advice work for somebody other than himself.
The same went for Dustin and Suzie, every time Dustin got off the phone with her and came to Steve to gush about her. Steve usually loved hearing about it, but that didn't take away the sting when Dustin happily described in too-great length how Suzie had told him she loved him that day.
And when he saw you and Eddie... Oh, Steve just wanted to sob. There had been too many days when he had gone home and cried in the shower, all without meaning to and sometimes not noticing until he was unable to breathe from how fast the tears were coming.
~❊~
July 10, 1988
Brutally hot July days had arrived at Hawkins, which meant Steve's pool had become a community pool for his friends. These days were Steve's favorite days—when he could have everybody near and see that they were all safe and happy and just fine, contrary to the nightmares that still plagued him.
The kids got there first—not that they were kids anymore, but Steve couldn't quite break out of that train of thought. They were four years younger than he was, after all.
Steve and Lucas helped Max into the chair Steve had installed into the pool for her, and Steve gave her his sunglasses to protect her already weak eyes.
Max shrieked as Dustin jumped in, dousing her in water. El slid into the water beside her while Will and Mike argued over which of Steve's deck chairs they wanted to sit in.
Slowly, the others began showing up—Nancy and Jonathan just seconds after the kids, evidently having been the ones to drive them, carrying fold-up chairs and a cooler. Robin and Vickie came with umbrellas and food about a half an hour later.
As time passed, the sun began to dip in the sky, but the heat was relentless. It was late in the afternoon when Dustin finally stopped splashing around long enough to ask, "Steve? Is Eddie coming?"
Steve glanced around his yard and then at his watch. "He was supposed to, after he got out of work."
Dustin made a face. "That was hours ago! Where is he?"
Steve shrugged. "I don't know, I'm your babysitter, not his."
Dustin scowled. "You are not my babysitter."
"Still feels like it," Steve muttered, rolling his eyes.
Dustin's response was to shriek and dunk Steve under without warning.
Laughter met Steve's ears when he surface, glaring at the grinning boy. "Oh, you're gonna pay for that, Henderson." He sent a tidal wave in Dustin's direction, relishing in the resulting fearful shriek.
"Aw, don't drown the little shrimp without me!"
"Eddie!" was a chorus that came from the kids. Steve glanced over his shoulder and found both you and Eddie walking toward the pool, Eddie already shedding his shirt to join them in the pool.
Steve's stomach dropped when he saw you, several thoughts processing simultaneously.
First, he had not technically invited you to this gathering, because he avoided speaking to you as much as possible, lest you detect his cursed crush on you.
Second, you were wearing a pretty (and skimpy) bikini with shorts and a see-through coverup over it.
Third, his formerly perfect hair was practically a wet mop on his head.
"Brought my girl along," Eddie said as he jumped into the pool. "Hope you don't mind."
Steve pushed his wet hair out of his face, shaking his head. "Nah, man, it's cool," he said, even though he could feel his skin warming even more, the pool no longer cooling down that persistent burn. You gave him a little, cheery wave, and the urge to hide in his room swept over him.
Robin greeted you with an enthusiastic hug. "I hope you like burgers! Or fruit, or salad, or chips, or fries, because we brought them all, so there's something you're gonna like—"
You laughed, the sound like music to Steve and Eddie's ears. "Of course, I do, Robs, how could you forget?"
"Must be the heat," she said, but Steve barely heard her, because you called Robin 'Robs' too!
Eddie clapped his hands together, tugging Steve's attention away from you. "Alright! Why are we drowning Henderson?"
"Because he tried to drown me!" Steve lunged at Dustin in the water. Dustin shrieked and swam away as fast as he could.
Eddie laughed. "Must've been a big wave to drown the captain of the Hawkins swim team," he teased, poking Steve in the shoulder. Steve swatted his hand away.
"He caught me off guard," Steve complained.
There was a soft splashing behind him. Both he and Eddie turned to see you sitting at the edge of the pool, your feet in the water. Eddie's face split into a wide grin and he swam over to you. Steve watched discreetly, trying to tamp down the fire in his belly, as Eddie put his hands on your knees and you leaned down to cup his face and kiss him.
"I love you, sweet girl," Eddie mumbled against your lips.
"I love you more," you whispered. "My lover boy." You smiled at him, pushing his hair out of his face.
The moment remained peaceful for a single second more, before Eddie abruptly pulled you into the pool. You shrieked, clinging to him while he laughed (Steve thought his laugh was a bit too obnoxious for your obvious panic at being yanked in).
"You are an ass," you complained, but there was no bite behind your words. You looped your arms around Eddie's neck and his grin widened, becoming sickeningly in love. Steve felt a twisting in his chest, painful as a knife. When your gaze darted over to him, he hoped his expression wasn't too revealing of his current hatred toward Eddie or his longing for you. "I'm sure Steve's never yanked any of his girlfriends into the pool without warning."
Before Steve could open his mouth, Nancy said, "No, but he has pushed me in before—while I was wearing clothes."
Steve blushed. Guilt bubbled up in his chest. "Nancy, I..."
"It's okay," she promised, "I don't hold it against you."
Your mouth had become an O. "Is that when you two were...?"
Nancy nodded, casting an awkward glance toward Steve, who refused to look anywhere near her. He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a long breath.
"Awkward," he muttered and pulled himself out of the pool. He grabbed a towel on his way back toward his house.
Your voice sounded behind him, guilty and apologetic. "Steve, I didn't mean to—"
"No, no, it's fine," he called over his shoulder. "I'm just grabbing a drink."
Robin frowned, gesturing to the cooler full of ice and sodas. "We have drinks right here, Steve!"
"Not that kind, Robs," he said.
"Hey, grab me one, Harrington!" Eddie shouted. Steve gave him a thumbs up before shutting the sliding door behind him. He didn't let out his breath until he got into his kitchen and leaned over the kitchen sink.
"Get ahold of yourself," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. He hated that it bothered him so much, that every time someone brought up his relationship with Nancy he practically shut down. He hadn't in a while, and he hated this time even more, because it was you who brought it up.
No wonder he hadn't had a real relationship since Nancy. Every girl knew about it, and every potential girlfriend brought it up, and it reduced him to this—unable to flirt with them, unable to talk to them, unable to forget the smell of Nancy's perfume or her hand in his or—
"Stop it," he hissed at himself, leaving the sink and yanking open the door to his fridge. He grabbed two beer cans, paused, and grabbed a third. He downed one right there, standing at his kitchen counter and glancing out the window to where you and Eddie were practically slow dancing in his pool. Eddie spun you and then his hands dipped below the water, visibly squeezing your ass. You yelped, blushing in his arms, and Eddie giggled at you.
And then his hand slipped around to your front. "Fuck," Steve said, ashamed of the whimper in his voice and glad no one was around to hear it.
The kids started to jeer, Dustin mimicking vomiting, and Eddie lifted one hand out of the water to flip them off. You, however, seemed relieved.
"Steve will kill you," Robin warned, glancing inside. Steve wondered if she saw him standing and watching from the open window. Eddie just laughed off her warning. "I'm serious, Eddie, not in his pool, not in his house."
"I'm sure the maid will clean the sheets," Eddie said, winking at you.
Shocked and bashful in the face of all these people, you pushed away from him. Steve could see your mortification, your unease with the whole situation. "Eddie, stop," you said. "Robin's right. Don't piss him off just because you're jealous of him."
Silence fell from the others. Eddie's face twisted into an ugly, angry expression. "I'm not jealous of Steve fucking Harrington."
You scoffed, climbing out of the pool the same way Steve had. "Yeah, right." You glared at him. "Then tell me why you've gotta one-up him all the time, yeah?"
"I do not—" But you were already walking away, so Eddie turned his glare on Robin. "Now look what you've done!"
"What I've done?!" Robin echoed, incredulous. "This is on you, Munson!"
You snatched up your towel from one of the lounge chairs. "You started this, Eddie," you snapped. "What did you think was going to happen? I was gonna let you—"
Nancy cleared her throat. "There are children present," she said from behind her hand. She glanced at Jonathan, who shook his head slowly, a clear don't get involved.
You shook your head at him, at a loss for words. You turned your back on him and the others and started for the house.
Eddie scoffed. "Oh, yeah, just walk away from me. Why don't you go cry to Steve, huh? Go fuck your other boyfriend!"
You flipped him off over your shoulder and slammed the door behind you. You stopped in the kitchen, leaning against the wall and pushing your hands against your eyes. Steve heard a muffled cry fall from your lips.
"Are...you okay?" he asked. You jumped, looking up at him. "Sorry, stupid question, I know. I can...leave you alone, if you want, I just...wanna make sure you're okay."
You sighed, wiping your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. "I take it you heard everything?"
"Yeah, I think so," he said. "Um...I didn't know that he..."
You shrugged. "You're his biggest insecurity and I keep telling him he has no reason to be so damn jealous, but he just...always has been."
Steve raked a hand through his slowly drying hair. "Yeah, that might've been because I was a bit of a dick to him in high school?"
"Might've?" you questioned with a scoff. "Steve, you were the unkind bastard who made him the butt of every joke the moment you stepped in the high school, and Tommy was your reinforcer. It only got worse after you left."
Steve wanted to crawl into himself and disappear. "I...I know, and I'm really sorry about everything, I really wish I could just take it all back, but..."
"No," you said. "Stop apologizing, Steve. I know you're not like that anymore. Believe me, I know, Robin told me everything. It's just that Eddie... He doesn't exactly let go of things easily. So no matter how many times I tell him he's enough as he is, he sees you and his vision goes green with envy."
"I'm sorry," Steve whispered.
You shook your head. "It's not your failing." You huffed a sigh. "I would just hope that after six, nearly seven goddamn years with him, he'd finally get a grip and realize I...I want to be with him. I want to always be with him." You laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You know, when I first met him, I knew I wanted to be his best friend. And then when we finally started dating, I knew I wanted to marry him. Less than a month in and I knew that's what I wanted and now—" You stopped, your eyes growing watery. "Now I'm not so sure."
Steve winced. "Yeah, I know that feeling," he said, glancing back outside. The tension was palpable. "Are you two...gonna be okay? I don't want to be the cause of..."
"If things keep going sour between Eddie and I, it's not your fault," you promised him. "It's just Eddie not being able to grow up and move on from...from petty high school drama."
"Don't you worry, Dustin'll set him straight," Steve said. "He did for me, at least."
You dragged a hand through your wet hair, mirroring Steve's earlier action. "Yeah, but Dustin's a hell of a lot closer to you than he is to Eddie. You're...you're like Dustin's big brother. And I've seen the two of you together, I know you'd do anything for each other. Eddie, though? Not so much. He's...he's more of a mentor than family. And he doesn't take well to people telling him what to do."
You leaned on the countertop and put your head in your hands, letting out a long breath.
"Can I...get you anything?" Steve asked.
You glanced over at his fridge. "Got any wine coolers?"
"Uh...I've got sangria? My mom loves the stuff."
"That'll do."
Steve passed you a bottle. You took a long swig.
"Look at us," you muttered. "We should start a club. We just need a shorter name for 'people who have found the love of their lives and lost them.'"
Guilt tore through Steve's gut. "Hey, you'll talk him around. If you've been together seven years and made it this far, surely you can patch up a fight over little old me, right?"
"Nothing about you is little," you said. Awkward silence fell as Steve tried not to take that the wrong way. "Oh, God, I'm sorry, that sounds so wrong." You groaned. "I get mad at Eddie for being dirty, and now I'm—"
"Hey, no, there's a difference. Eddie was being dirty on purpose, you weren't. It just...came out wrong," Steve added with a laugh.
You rubbed your hand over your face and joined him at the window, looking out. Your gaze soured the moment you saw Eddie sulking with a soda in hand.
"I'm... I don't wanna go back out there," you said, voice hushed. "I don't want to have to try and pretend everything's normal when it's not. Not when I just wanna punch him and I feel like it's all ending and gonna come crashing down any second."
"You'll patch things up," Steve insisted, simultaneously proud of himself for putting you and Eddie first, and so very annoyed he couldn't be selfish just this once.
People are not something to be selfish about, he reminded himself.
"Not if I go back out there right now," you said. "I'll just make things worse if I try talking to him when we're both so angry." You bit your lip. "Will you...will you tell him I'm going home to cool down? That I'll talk to him later?"
"I'll tell him," Steve promised. "You could stay here, if you wanted, so you can talk later? I've got a guest room set up if you wanna hang out there for a little bit—"
You shook your head. "I'm pretty sure it'll just piss him off more. He'll see it as me taking comfort in you and...and...and cheating on him, probably. He's...dramatic that way."
Steve nodded. "Alright, fair point." He tried giving you a smile. "I'll see you soon, okay? Let me and Robin know how things go with him."
You nodded and wrapped the towel tighter around yourself. "I will. Thanks, Steve. For letting me talk."
He nodded. "Anytime." He watched you disappear around the corner and heard the front door open and close softly. He sighed, picking up the two beers and bringing them outside.
Eddie looked up. "Where is she?" he demanded.
"She went home," Steve said, handing him the beer to distract him. "She said she needed to cool down and that she'd talk to you when she's calm." In the face of Eddie's anger, he added, "She just doesn't want to make things worse right now, okay, man? Just let her be."
Eddie sneered at him. "Oh, she told you that, did she?"
"You can leave, too, y'know," Steve said, an edge to his voice. "She's trying to save your relationship, not make it worse. She doesn't want to lose you but God knows you don't deserve her, not when you treat her like this."
Eddie's entire body was twitching. "I don't deserve her? Who the fuck are you to tell me—"
"A concerned friend," Steve snapped. "Now get out."
The two boys glared at each other until Eddie rolled his eyes.
"Fuck this, man," he muttered, grabbing his things with far more force than necessary. He stormed out without a goodbye to the kids, who were watching on in awkward confusion.
After a few moments of silence, Dustin asked, "Steve...?"
"Yeah, Henderson?"
"What just happened?"
Steve hesitated. "They're just...fighting a little."
"Will they be okay?"
Steve glanced back toward his house, hearing Eddie's van start up on the other side. "I don't know."
~❊~
Nobody heard from you or Eddie for several days.
Robin worried about you constantly, often pausing mid-action at work to wonder aloud what had happened to you. Steve was surprised it took her as long as it did to ask him what you had said to him in his kitchen, and he explained it to her as best as he could remember the conversation.
Dustin showed up randomly toward the end of one of Steve's shifts, the kind where Robin stayed to close and Steve went home as the sun set to either go on a terrible date or be bored out of his mind.
"Steve?"
Steve sighed at the sound of his voice. "What do you want, Henderson?"
"Can I have a ride to Eddie's?"
Steve frowned. "What do you want with Munson?"
Dustin raised his brows. "Oh, he's Munson again, is he?"
Steve shrugged. "You heard how he talked to his girl. You saw how he was acting. He'll be Munson until he can prove he's not an asshole."
Dustin processed for a minute, then shrugged, accepting the explanation. "I left the papers for the campaign I'm planning his trailer, I need to go back for them."
"Really? That's what you want me to drive you for?"
Robin poked him in the side. "Hey—doesn't matter what he needs a ride for, you can go talk to Eddie. Find out what happened between those two."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Robin, he doesn't want me of all people there. I'm the reason they're fighting in the first place!"
Robin gave him a shove toward the door. "Go! It's the end of your shift anyway, you'll be fine."
Steve grumbled, but he scooped up his keys and headed for the door. "Alright, Henderson, let's go. But if I get yelled at by Munson for existing, you're backing me up, got it?"
"Thank you!" Dustin clasped his hands together, holding them over his chest in mock worship. "I'll make it up to you, I promise!"
"By backing me up," Steve insisted.
Dustin sighed. "Yeah, sure."
"Was that a sigh?" Steve asked, getting into his car.
"Oh, shut up." Dustin slammed the door of Steve's car shut. "Oh, Suzie called me this morning, too, she said she wants to come visit this summer and meet you guys."
Steve raised an eyebrow, more focused on backing out of his parking space than Dustin's words. "Oh, yeah? There's not much of summer left— Wait, she wants to meet us?"
Dustin nodded. "Well, yeah. I talk about you all the time."
"Who's us, exactly?"
"Oh, you know. Max, Lucas, Mike, El, Erica, Eddie, Robin...you," he added, suddenly shy. At Steve's side glance, he continued, "I talk about you guys all the time, you think she wouldn't want to meet you?"
"Aw, Dustin," Steve said, biting back a smile. "You sentimental dork."
"Says you!"
The rest of the car ride was spent listening to Dustin recount his latest conversation with Suzie, which he had somehow still not gotten to the end of by the time Steve pulled into the trailer park. He pulled up beside Eddie's trailer, his heart in his throat.
Your car was parked next to Eddie's van.
"Looks like they made up," Dustin said.
"Yeah, I guess so," Steve said.
Dustin glanced at him over his shoulder. "At least Eddie can't yell at you now, right?"
"I don't think them making up will stop him," Steve muttered. He cleared his throat. "Come on, let's make this quick."
Dustin practically skipped to the door and yanked it open, Steve trailing behind him, much more apprehensively. He narrowed his eyes when Dustin stopped dead, just feet inside the trailer, and turned around to face him.
"Uh...Steve?"
"Yeah?" Steve stepped into the trailer, and Dustin no longer needed to explain his wariness. The smell of weed, sweat, and sex washed over Steve immediately. His eyes watered. "Oh, Jesus..."
They crept a little bit further down the short hallway leading to Eddie's bedroom. Seconds later, a woman's loud moan reached them, coupled with a man's loud, dirty, verbal encouragements.
Steve clapped his hands over Dustin's ears. "Oh my God."
Dustin was red, but he looked up at Steve with an exasperated expression regardless. "Like you're any better!" He looked back toward the door. "Now what?"
Steve glanced back at the door, trying not to imagine what you and Eddie were doing behind it. Your next gasp was loud and breathy, followed by Eddie's groan of, "You close, baby?"
"Yes, Eddie, oh, God—" You cut yourself off with an abrupt cry that tapered off into a whine.
Steve's ears were ringing. He felt his heart rip in his chest, like the very muscles of his heart had torn, spilling his blood with reckless abandon.
"We should go," Steve said, in answer to Dustin's question. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth.
"Too much, Eds, it's too much!" you whimpered behind the door. "Oh, God, Eddie, please—"
"I gotcha, baby, I gotcha," he crooned. Steve felt resentment bubble up inside him, almost too quick and too angry to tamp down.
"Go?" Dustin echoed.
Steve snorted. "What, you want to wait until they're done?" he demanded, trying to steer Dustin toward the door. Even without the lewdness of it all, he knew he needed to get out of the trailer as fast as possible. It was embarrassing, shameful, how quickly his disgust was overtaken by horny curiosity. He knew that, long after he left the trailer, he would still hear your moans and whimpers echoing in his ears.
He knew something was up when Dustin just stared at him, then turned back to the door.
"Dustin, no—"
"EDDIE!"
Steve groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me."
The trailer was awkwardly silent. Then Eddie said, in a low voice, "Did you hear that?"
"I think Dustin's in the trailer," you whispered. "Oh my God, Eddie, Dustin's in your trailer and we're—" You squeaked. "Eddie, Jesus Christ, now is not the time—" You whimpered again.
Steve knew his entire face was red. Probably his ears and neck, too. He felt like he was burning up, and he couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or shame or pure need.
"EDDIE!" Dustin shouted again.
"He doesn't give up, does he?" Eddie asked from behind the door. The two of you moaned in tandem and Steve felt his body flash with heat and cold. "Where'd my pants go?"
"On the floor where you threw them," you said. "Toss me my clothes, please."
Steve turned on his heel. "Alright, this is your problem now, I'm waiting in the car. If you're not back in...in ten minutes, I'm leaving without you!"
He left the trailer and shut the door behind him as quickly as he could. He got in his car and slammed the door shut, letting out a long breath. He slid down in his seat, practically melting into the pleather, and covered his face with his hands.
I'm never going to be able to look at her again, he realized. The sound of you falling apart for Eddie was going to be a track that played in his brain on a loop every single time you showed up to gatherings.
That is—if you or Eddie ever showed up again. It wouldn't surprise Steve if this had been the last straw for the both of you.
He wanted to curl up in on himself. He wanted to run to Robin and freak out. He wanted to know why he never wanted to hear anything like that again but also wanted to hear you for eternity.
I feel so goddamn gross.
Steve pressed his palms into his eyes with a groan.
At least the door was closed, right?
The passenger door opened. Dustin was clutching his D&D things to his chest, but he seemed more worried than relieved. "Uh, Steve—"
A hand shot through the open driver's side window. It wrapped around Steve's shirt collar and yanked him up from where he'd slunk in shame.
Steve made eye contact with a very angry Eddie.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Eddie demanded.
"Driving Dustin!"
"You were listening to me fuck my girlfriend, you perv? Yeah, my girlfriend, Harrington! Mine! You get off on this?" Eddie's gaze dipped into the car. Steve glanced down at the same time.
"Leave him alone, Eddie, he wasn't doing anything!" Dustin growled.
"What the hell, man?!" Steve snapped. "No! I only stopped by to drive Dustin to get his shit for your stupid game! You're the one fucking her nasty, even after Dustin made it obvious he was here!"
Eddie sneered. "Sure, man, say what you want. I know you just want to get your hands on her, after she came crying to you in your big, empty house. Bet you would've fucked her there in the kitchen, wouldn't you?"
"Eddie!" Dustin yelled.
The door to the trailer slammed open and you marched out, dressed and furious, your hair still a tangled mess and your skin blotchy with exertion.
"Edward fucking Munson, don't you dare touch him!" you ordered. "Sorry for my language, Dustin. Eddie! Away from the car!"
Eddie's anger had lifted, but only a little. "Baby, you can't seriously be sticking up for him, he was listening to us!"
You rolled your eyes at him. "Yeah, like your exhibitionist ass is gonna complain! Steve left, Eddie! He left us to do our thing and Dustin only stayed because he needed something from you. It's you who didn't stop when you knew they were here! And you're calling Steve the pervert?"
"Oh, you're gonna stick up for him now?" Eddie sneered.
"Damn right I am!" You glanced over at Dustin, your expression softening. Steve had never seen you so angry before. You were terrifying when you were pissed. "Dustin, get in the car and get out of here. I'll take care of this." You made eye contact with Steve, who nodded once.
As soon as Dustin was in the car, Steve peeled away from the trailer. Out of his rearview mirror, he saw you and Eddie start shouting again, before you flipped him off and went back in the trailer. When you came out again, just as Steve pulled out of Forest Hills, you had an armful of clothes and you got into your car and left.
"I'm sorry," Dustin whispered.
Steve did a double-take in his direction. "Sorry? What are you sorry for? I'm sorry! If I'd known the two of them were gonna be going at each other, I would never have let you go inside!"
"Yeah, but I made Eddie mad at you again."
"Dustin, listen to me very closely. This is not on you. Got it? This is Eddie being immature over a woman and being insecure of himself and taking it out on me." Steve raked a hand through his hair. "Listen, none of this has to...change how you view him—"
"Of course it does," Dustin interrupted. "He's my friend, sure, but you're my best friend, and he's treating you like shit for something you didn't do!" He shook his head. "I can't just...let it happen."
Steve sat in shock for a while. Maybe Robin was right; Eddie had never replaced Steve, not to Dustin. "Thanks, man," Steve said quietly. "I...I appreciate it."
~❊~
Half-covered by his blankets, Steve laid on his stomach, head turned to the right, toward his nightstand. He'd cleared off most of its clutter, leaving behind only his radio, his lamp, his alarm clock, and a photo of him, Robin, Dustin, and Erica.
He reached past the photo to the dial knob of his radio. He switched through stations, listening for a few moments before turning the knob again.
"I've seen it before, it happens all the time—"
"Men of five, still alive through the raging glow—"
"Streetlights, people, living' just to find emotion—"
"Oh daddy dear, you know you're still number one—"
"And if you say run, I'll run with you—"
"I wanna tell her that I love her, but the point is probably moot—"
Steve groaned, shutting the radio off. He curled up in a ball under the covers. He hated that he felt as miserable as he did, unsure why he did, when he'd spent the entire car ride assuring Dustin they couldn't do anything to fix yours and Eddie's failing relationship.
"Because it's my fault," Steve muttered into his pillow. "It's my fault. If I'd never gotten to know them, then Eddie wouldn't be jealous of me." He rolled onto his back, his legs getting twisted in his blankets. "And I wouldn't have ruined her life."
Steve covered his face with his hands, groaning into them. "Fuck." He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting against tears. "How do I always screw this shit up?"
He laid in silence, staring at his ceiling, too hot with the blankets but too cold without them, so he settled for leaving them at his hips. He stared at his white, blank ceiling; at his horrible, plaid walls; at the boring wall art he left up only because his father insisted on it.
It was well-past midnight, but Steve's brain wouldn't shut off. He wished he could blame the red glow his alarm clock was casting around the room looking a little too much like the Upside Down, but it wasn't cutting it tonight. He saw right through his own excuses.
He sniffled and wiped at the tears gathering on his lashes. "Goddamnit, Harrington."
He was jolted out of his self-pity by a loud rapping at his window. He startled, whipping his head toward the window. His eyes widened at the sight of you waving at him through it.
"Hi, Steve," you said, your voice muffled by the glass.
Steve yanked his blankets up to his chest, drawing a giggle from you. "What the hell are you doing here?!"
"I need to talk to you," you said. "About earlier."
He flinched. "I'm sorry about that, I wish I'd never walked in on you guys."
"You didn't technically walk in on us," you said. "Besides, it's not like it matters anymore."
"Huh?"
You looked away from him, clearing your throat. "Are you gonna open this window and let me in or what?"
"I—I can't!"
"Why not? It's cold and my fingers are going numb out here!"
"I'm—" Steve's body flashed with heat again, his cheeks practically burning. "I'm not wearing anything!"
You rolled your eyes. "Like that's ever stopped you before. Whatever happened to Mr. Confident? Mr. Suave? Mr. Sex?"
Steve huffed, staring back up at his ceiling. "Yeah, I haven't been like that for a long time. And after what happened with Eddie today, I don't think you seeing me naked is a good idea."
"Yeah, that doesn't really matter anymore. It's done. I broke it off."
Steve nearly cracked his neck looking back over at you. "What?"
"Open the window and I'll explain. That's why I'm here, Steve."
Steve glanced down at himself, then at the floor where his boxers and pants lay. "Close your eyes and let me get my pants on, okay?"
You nodded and shut your eyes, squeezing them tight so Steve could see. He pulled the blanket away from himself and yanked on his clothes, then pulled open the window. You yelped, momentarily losing your balance. Steve lunged, grabbing both your hands and helping you through the window without falling.
"Warn me next time you open the window, Stevie, Jesus." You clung to his forearms.
Steve walked backwards until his legs hit the bed. He sat, pulling you to sit next to him. "You broke up with Eddie? What happened?"
You sighed. "I...I'd had enough. Enough of him nitpicking you and being a dick when all he ever complained about was how you did the same thing to him and people he knew in high school. I'd had enough of the hypocrisy and the bitching and the fighting. No matter how many times I told him that he didn't need to be scared of you because I loved him to death, he just stayed angry and defensive and insecure. It...it starts to wear at your after a while, you know?"
Realization struck Steve. "This has been going on for a lot longer than we all thought, hasn't it?"
You nodded. "I...I didn't tell anyone, not even Robin. How could I? How selfish of me would it be to complain about a relationship I'd had for seven years not being enough anymore? Not when Robin can't even tell people who she loves because this town would kill her for it! Not when you were trying so damn hard to find love, and I was...ready to throw it all away. Not when most people would give anything, anything to be known and to be loved by someone the way...the way Eddie loved me."
"How long have you two been struggling?"
"About a year," you whispered. "Ever since...since he died and came back, he hasn't been the same."
"I mean, not many of us have," Steve said, but you were already shaking your head.
"It wasn't like that for Eddie. Sure, he had his nightmares and his flashbacks just like the rest of us, but... He changed. He's not the Eddie I remember. He— He got mean. Nasty. Started fights he couldn't finish, with me, with other guys at bars. He reminded me more of Billy than of himself." You looked down at your hands. "Eddie hasn't been the boy I fell in love with for a long time. He's gone and I don't know if he's ever coming back, but I can't wait around for him."
"What do you mean?"
"My sweet, gentle Eddie is gone. The Eddie that I know would come running back to me within an hour of me telling him to go fuck himself is gone. If he was still in there, he would have called me already. He would have showed up at my doorstep on his knees, begging me to come back, and—" Steve started to protest. "No, Steve, listen to me. I know he would have, because he did." You wiped at your eyes. "Back in high school, in our junior year. He, um, he fell into drugs, hard and fast. Got addicted to opioids."
"Jesus Christ," Steve whispered.
"Yeah," you said. "There was hell to pay when Wayne found out. He'd been doing Eddie's laundry, and there was— It was still in his pocket. It fell out. Wayne flipped out. I hadn't even known until Wayne sat the two of us down to yell at us about it, until he realized I was just as pissed and as clueless as he was." You brushed a tear off your cheekbone. "I broke up with him that night. He wouldn't give me any answers, he wouldn't tell me where he got the drugs, why he got into them. I... I compared him to his dad. Lowest blow I'd ever handed him. We were split for three hours before he was at my door and spilling his guts."
"How many hours has it been this time?" Steve asked, unsure if he wanted the answer.
"Six," you whispered. You choked on a sob, falling into Steve's shoulder.
"Oh, God, I'm sorry," he whispered. He wrapped his arm around you and took your hand in his almost unconsciously.
"It's over, and if he's not willing to make an effort, then I'm done," you said. "I've been done. I'd just...I'd hoped he'd pull himself together, but...he remained an asshole." You laughed bitterly. "I guess the 'I love you's kinda fall short when I stop meaning them. When I only say them in public or when he fucks me after we fight to try and make it seem like we're okay again."
You drew your legs up, curling into a ball similar to the one Steve had been in before your arrival. Steve laid his head atop yours, which seemed to put you at ease as you relaxed against him.
"You know, I stopped enjoying it. Sleeping with him, I mean. It started about a month ago. I think that's when I really knew it was over, when I started thinking I needed to find a way to break it to him gently. Obviously that didn't happen."
"Didn't seem like he gave you much of a choice," Steve said into your hair.
"He didn't," you whispered. You looked up at him, your expression knitting into nervousness. "And...this doesn't have to mean anything, but I...I feel like I owe it to you. That you deserve to know."
"Know what? About Eddie?"
You shook your head, hesitated, then nodded. "Sort of. It's just, um... Maybe he did have a reason to be scared of you."
Steve blinked. Did you mean...? "Um, you're gonna have to clarify, in case I'm having one of my moments, as Dustin calls them, and I'm interpreting this completely wrong."
"I know it...it sounds sketchy and I don't blame you if it bothers you, because I mean, Nancy kind of did the same thing with Jonathan and that was not a good start to his conversation, oh my God." You put your head in your hands.
Steve pried your hands away from your face. "No, no, no. Look at me, honey, please. Talk to me. It's okay. Take your time, it'll come out the right way eventually, right?"
You nodded slowly. "So... You remember how I said Eddie was insecure and intimidated by you because you were everything he wasn't?"
"Yeah."
"He was always afraid I'd leave him for someone like you. Or just you, in general. He was afraid that one day I'd wake up and realize that I didn't have to date my best friend, that he wasn't my only option, that half the basketball team would sell out their families to sleep with me. There was a time when I got asked out every other day by a different boy on the team, and Eddie was so scared that one day I'd say yes. And then you... You became the basketball champion. Hawkins High adored you and you were this perfect golden child with rich parents and your choice of friends, girls, whatever you wanted.
"I'll be honest, I wanted nothing to do with you at first. The first two years I knew you, I knew you from basketball. And I didn't really know you, I knew of you. I couldn't have cared less about you then. And then I went to college for another two years, and you weren't anywhere. Those were...the golden years for me and Eddie, really. He was insecure of himself, sure, but not of our relationship.
"Then...then all that shit happened. I came back for break and Eddie was fucking accused of murder. Murdering my neighbor, no less, a girl I'd grown up with and who Eddie had an embarrassing middle school crush on. And I watched you protect him and everyone else without a care in the world for what happened to yourself. And...and maybe Eddie saw it, just a little, but he started to get worried again."
"Saw what?" Steve whispered.
"How in awe of you I was," you said. "How much I admired that you would do anything for these people because you loved them with your heart and soul. You were nothing like the Steve I remembered in high school and I liked this version better—I still like you better now than I ever did in high school. And...I guess the way you are with Dustin? It kind of reminds me of...of me and Chrissy. And I think that's where Eddie first started to realize he was in trouble in our relationship."
"He started to be afraid of me stealing you again?" Steve guessed.
You nodded. "He didn't really do anything before he died, he was...scared out of his mind. And I can't really blame him for that. But when he came back, all his fears got worse. It was like...everything heightened, I guess? And then he started acting like a dick and I fell out of love with him and—" You clapped a hand over your mouth. "Oh my God, I said it." You bit your lip. "I said it. Jesus Christ. Um. That was..."
"Take your time," Steve said. You leaned into him, sucking in a deep breath and fighting back your tears.
"I'm...I'm okay. Um. I, ah... I fell in love with someone else."
Steve's chest squeezed. "And Eddie automatically assumed it was me because he'd always been afraid of me?"
You nodded slowly. "Sort of. Add gasoline to the fire that I couldn't really fight him on it because he assumed correctly, and he knew me too well for me to hide it."
It felt like all the breath had been punched out of Steve's lungs. "He assumed correctly?"
"It was you, Steve," you whispered. "You were the one who was there for me, not Eddie. You were there when he died and I needed somebody but everyone else was dealing with their own grief. You were there, not him, not after he came back from the dead and wasn't the same as he used to be. You checked in on me, asked me how I was doing every time I saw you, when most times Eddie didn't ask and he saw me every damn day. And when you didn't see me, you were still there, checking up on me through Robin."
Steve blushed. "How'd you know it was me?"
"Robin's not exactly the best at being subtle," you said. You rubbed the back of your neck. "So...that's it. I liked you and I didn't know how to tell Eddie, so I...let it be until things exploded." You looked at your hand in Steve's resting in your lap. "And if that's weird for you, I apologize. I just...needed to tell somebody, and if I told Robin, it would get back to you anyway, so...might as well have told you on my own terms."
Steve processed for a moment. "You know what?"
"What?" you whispered, clearly scared of what he was about to say.
"I'm glad you told me."
"What?"
"I...thought you would have known by now, because I'm not exactly subtle either, and Robin says I'm really bad at hiding when I have a crush on someone. But, um..." Steve brushed his thumb across your knuckles. "The first day I saw you, two years ago in Family Video... God, I knew I loved you then. You were just perfect, pretty and focused looking for movies. Almost broke my heart when I realized you were with Eddie. Robin tried to, uh, break the fall a little bit but, um..." He laughed sardonically. "Here I am, two years later, still pining."
You giggled, pushing yourself closer to him. "Gotta say I'm glad you're still pining."
"Yeah," Steve said with a little laugh.
You smiled. "Oh, I love that laugh." You bit your lip. "It's been a long time since I heard a boy laugh because of me."
Anger flickered over Steve's face. "I swear to God, every time you tell me more about how he treated you, I just wanna punch him."
"Please don't," you said. "I know every time you get in a fight, that pretty face gets punched." You reached up, brushing your fingertips over his cheek. "I couldn't stand to see that."
Steve smiled, his cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink. "You're so sweet," he whispered, bending to press his forehead against yours.
After a moment, you threw yourself down on the bed, tugging Steve down with you. He braced himself with his arms on either side of your head.
"Oh, hello there," he said, grinning down at you. His hair fell into his face and he flicked his head slightly to get it out of his eyes, wanting to see you clearly in this moment. He brushed some of your own hair out of your face, then let his thumb rub your temple.
You looped your arms around his neck, your fingers toying with his hair. "Hi," you said back, voice quiet and coy. You smiled up at him, ran your gaze down his body, his shirtless chest, then brought your eyes back to his.
"God, sweetheart, I just wanna..." Steve caught himself, licking his lips nervously. "Would it be weird if I kissed you after you and Eddie were, um, y'know..."
You shook your head. "I've wanted you to kiss me for a long time, Steve."
"Can I?" he asked.
You smiled up at his small, hopeful voice. "Please, Steve."
He leaned down, guided by your looped arms, until his lips touched yours. The soft, gentle kiss was quick, barely a touch, until you tugged him back down to you, sighing into his mouth. Steve moaned softly, adjusting to prop himself up on his elbows, cradling the side of our face with one of his hands.
Steve pulled back. You whined, trying to tug him back down, until he said, "Wait, wait. One sec. You okay with tongue?" You whimpered and he grinned. "I'll take that as a yes."
He bent his head down again, kissing you softly. You moaned softly into him, opening your mouth for him. As his tongue slipped into your mouth, you yanked him down to lay on your body.
"Steve," you mumbled into his mouth. "Steve."
"Yeah, baby?"
You squeezed him tightly. "Thank you. For...for everything."
Steve smiled at you. "Oh, honey. I'll be here as long as you let me."
You stared up at him, your eyes wide and round, words in them that you seemed unsure if you wanted to say.
Steve kissed you deeply. "You don't have to say it, honey, not yet. Take your time. I know."
"Oh, Steve," you breathed, your fingers fanning over his cheek. "Steve, you're perfect. You..."
He nuzzled into your neck, placing delicate kisses there. "How far are you willing to go?"
"Not too far tonight," you said, fighting your embarrassment. "Eddie wasn't exactly...gentle...earlier. I'm...kinda sore. And not sure if I'm ready to go very far just yet. I might need some time."
"I get it," Steve whispered. "It's okay. I know this is a lot happening really fast."
You nodded. "Thanks."
Steve kissed you again. "You wanna stay with me tonight, though? We don't have to do anything you're not up for."
You smiled at him. "I'll stay."
"Can I hold you all night?"
You giggled. "Steve, you keep kissing me like that and you can hold me forever."
He grinned. "Might as well get on with it then, huh?"
You squealed as Steve tickled you, pushing you into his bed with a needy, wet kiss. He threw the covers over the two of you and turned around to shut off the lamp on his nightstand. He turned on the radio, keeping it a soft, low volume—loud enough to be romantic, quiet enough to fall asleep to.
Steve gathered you up in his arms and pulled you to his chest. "I'm glad you're here."
"I'm glad you're here, too, Steve."
Bruce Springsteen crooned into the dark of Steve's room. "You can't start a fire without a spark—"
Steve held you tight and brought his lips to yours, and you exchanged short, lazy, loving kisses in the dark, the kind of kiss that said all the words it was still too early to say.
"This gun's for hire, even if we're just dancing in the dark."
☞ ❊ ☜
Songs Used/Quoted in this Fic:
Jessie's Girl (Rick Springfield)
Dancing in the Dark (Bruce Springsteen)
Let's Dance (David Bowie)
Don't Stop Believin' (Journey)
As Cold As Ice (Foreigner)
For Whom the Bell Tolls (Metallica)
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (Cyndi Lauper)
Stranger Things // Steve Harrington
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life
this was a request send by a lovely anon and you can find their ask here, thank you anon for your request and i apologise for the delay when writing this fic!! i hope you like it <3
ft. jealous!steve harrington x f!reader (no use of y/n)
18+ MDNI. if you do not have your age on your blog you will be blocked, you must be 18+ to interact with and follow this content.
content: smut, kinda dom!steve sub!reader, billy mentions, unwanted flirting and objectification from the aforementioned parasite who used to be your friend, possessive steve, stoplight system, oral (m receiving), kind of throat training, both degradation and praise, dacryphilia (crying), spanking, unprotected p in v sex, very mild exhibitionism (party downstairs can hear you), creampie, bit of aftercare fluff included at the end!!
word count: 8.5k
ao3 ver. (must be a registered user to view)
It was getting to be a bit too much. The noise of the constant thump of the bass, the drunken yelling that never settled beneath a loud chatter, and the heady, alcohol tainted air that felt stale in how it engulfed your every surrounding; it was just all too much.
You had lost your boyfriend, Steve, somewhere in the crowd some half an hour ago. This didn't bother you too much, the party was being hosted at his place anyway so it was easy enough for you to sneak away to someplace safe since you know the Harrington house like the back of your hand.
So having got yourself yet another red solo cup full of some questionable booze you sneaked away to your usual lookout point. Namely a spot about halfway up the staircase from which you can get a good view of the foyer without being too close for comfort.
Everything felt to mellow out then, the noise felt more distant and the air clearer as you neared the second floor of the house.
That was until an unfortunately familiar, grating and gruff voiced called out your name, the sound slurred by evident intoxication. Billy Hargrove, a boy who used to be your friend before he fell into his current ways, was stood on the bottommost step of the stairs, slowly ascending towards you.
"Well well well," he calls out in a mockingly sing-songy tone. "What's this pretty thing doing all on her own, hm?" you recoil back when he reaches you, crouching on the step approximately two down from where you're sat in a way that feels almost predatory.
You can smell the alcohol on him, and see it in the way his blown pupils seem to quiver just as they did when you last spoke to him.
"Leave me alone, Billy."
You attempt to sound firm but your voice trembles with an unbeaten nervousness, as does your hand that holds your flimsy cup. This is Billy after all, and you know his history.
"Ooo, feisty." he mocks, clicking his tongue against his teeth before licking over them with a rotten grin. You shiver, blood running cold as a sense of unnerving danger creeps over you. God, you hadn’t missed this feeling at all.
Where's Steve?
Billy reaches for you, smacking his lips and clearing his throat. His hand finds your thigh and dares to toy with the high hem of your skirt. You smack the unwanted touch away but he grabs your wrist in a firm, unmovable grip.
"Afraid I can't do that, dollface." the way he says the name sounds venomous, the whole sentence sounding a masked threat. His stare only made it worse, a piercing gaze that made you feel like a prey item.
"Where's your pretty boy Harrington, huh?" he pouts derisively, inching ever closer. You attempt to back up the stairs, to create space between the two of you but Billy is persistent like a goddamn disease.
"Can't believe he'd leave you all on your own, such a sweet thing. God, if you were mine I'd-"
"Hargrove!"
Heavy footfalls up the stairs, approaching with great urgency like you can hear the fury in each drop of the heel.
A hand grabs Billy's shoulder and pulls him down a couple steps. But he seems unfazed, his shit-eating smirk still pulling at thin, split lips. “Harrington!" he slurs in the same derisive timbre, barking out a laugh.
Steve now stands on the step directly below Billy, arms crossed over his chest and jaw set tense with anger. Meanwhile Billy is sat back with his arms splayed out on the steps behind him like it were a sofa back, legs in a man spread while his fingertips dare to reach for you.
You kick his hand and he grunts, shooting you a nasty look before turning back to your boyfriend.
"We we're just talking about you, weren't we princess?" you shudder and Steve can see your visible discomfort, his features softening when he looks to you despite having the same drunkards eyes as Billy. "Such a pretty thing all on her own up here. If I had a piece of that I'd-"
Steve kicks Billy in the shin. It's a little childish and you struggle to stifle a giggle, but still Billy hisses through his teeth and withdraws his leg.
"Don't talk about my girl like that, Hargrove."
My girl.
Your stomach flips and soars full with butterflies, a warm flush washing over you from head to toe. Steves words bounce back and forth between your ears like a broken record doomed to repeat. His girl. It's simple, nothing you haven't heard before, but still manages to make you giddy every time he refers to you as such.
Billy scoffs, pressing his palms flat to the mahogany of the staircase to push himself off of them and stand tall, towering over Steve who surprisingly doesn't flinch like you’ve seen him do during times previous.
"Your girl, huh?" he descends a step towards Steve who nods. "Shame that I don't care if she's 'your girl'," he quotes with his fingers, bloodied knuckles raised. "Y'know why that is?" Steve doesn't dignify him with a response. Billy keens forward to grab the open collar of Steves polo shirt. An intimidation tactic you suppose. With a scowl contorting his features he twists the fabric into his fist, making it pull tight around Steves neck. He winces.
"'Cause she was my girl first, ya hear? Me and her used to be all buddy buddy before you got here 'nd fuckin' ruined it all. So if I hear you calling her 'your girl' again I'll-"
"Billy! C'mon man we're doing kegs!"
A random voice that you think you recognise as someone from your english class calls out and Billy's head turns sharp to chase the sound. There’s a beat of tense silence. He takes a deep breath, chest rising visibly underneath his tight, sweat stained shirt.
After an agonisingly long moment spent quiet he lets go of Steves shirt, but not before tugging it to snap at the back of his neck. You hiss knowing it stung his soft skin.
Billy spits at Steve's feet and shoves past him on his way down the stairs, snatching Steve's shoulder back roughly. You listen to him storm away and immediately stride to Steve when the noise of Billy's footfalls grows distant like a storm blown away.
You throw your arms around your boy and bury your face into the apex of his shoulder and neck, breathing him in. Amberwood, hairspray and the heady remnants of booze that stings at the back of your nostrils, all scents that had started to feel like home, even the alcohol.
He wraps his arm around you but the movement feels stiff, lacking the usual cushion of his hold. In fact his whole stature is rigid, his breaths shaky although deep. But his hand finds your waist all the same and squeezes once with an uncharacteristic amount of force.
Steve leans and presses a cold kiss to the crown of your head.
"Go to the bedroom, now. I'll be with you in a minute."
His voice is flat, it startles you for a moment. But as you look to him his gaze is soft, deep browns glossy with a look of pleading. You nod and take yourself away to Steve's bedroom. The bedroom, as he has called it.
When you take yourself inside you immediately close the curtains and switch on the lamps, closing out the nights glare and giving the room the homey, yellow glow that you love. Almost like honey.
The chatter of the party can still be heard from outside, the splashes of teens jumping into the pool fully dressed, the hoorah's of drunken celebration, and the woozy laughter that never ceases. A few of them whistled when you drew the curtains, horny teens knowing it's significance.
You sigh to yourself and take a seat in the middle of Steve's bed, feeling the mattress dip beneath you like it always does, welcoming you, accommodating for your familiarity.
The tranquility of Steve's room makes you feel like you're sobering up already, there remains a slight buzz, a slight warmth at the back of your throat, but your mind feels clear. Free even. Or maybe you're just tired... Either way the quiet is nice.
That is until Steve kicks his bedroom door open, sending it back on its hinges to clatter against the wall in a disruptive outburst. You practically jump out of your skin, flinching away from the sudden and disruptive sound.
"Steve!" you scold with a hand over your thumping heart. He's cursing under his breath as he not so elegantly hauls himself into the room with heavy steps. His frustration is evident in his stride and it's nothing like him. You swallow a gulp and your brows furrow, and if it were possible your heart pounds louder. You shoot him with a stern look, hoping to convey your displeasure as he closes the door with a reassuring click.
"Steve what the fuck is-" he cuts you off by walking to the end of the bed and grabbing your ankles, dragging you to its edge. You yelp and his mouth seeks out the familiarity of your neck, leaving hasty, rough kisses over the sensitive skin.
"I'd like to ask you the same, baby." he grumbles into you, teeth gliding over your skin as he speaks. You shudder and your hands fly to hold his shoulders as if by muscle memory. Steve nips gently at the skin beneath your ear, pushing his pert nose against you so you can feel his warmth breaths that could almost be called intoxicating.
"W-What do you mean, Stevie?" your voice quivers, unnerved by Steve's uncharacteristic haste. But there's something exhilarating about his urgency, about the way he sloppily kisses and licks your skin in a way that is much more depraved than usual. He grunts against you, hands finding your hips and squeezing just a little too roughly. You hiss through gritted teeth, but he doesn't let up.
"You're my girl, right?" there it is again. My girl. A pit grows in your stomach, one that settles hot at the height between your thighs. You again shiver and nod with unmatched urgency.
"Then what was that shit just now?"
Your breath hitches, you again gulp. "What...?" your timbre is timid as you give way to Steve's fervorous attack, his wet kisses never ceasing. He nips and sucks at a chosen spot, intending to bruise it with his lips pulling into a smirk against your skin.
"Don't play dumb, baby." his tone dips to be taunting and finally he pulls away from your neck to press his forehead to yours, eyes seeing through you though his pupils seem to shake like a copy of his breathing.
"That bullshit with Hargrove just now." he's practically spitting the words, voice trembling with anger. "That you were his girl first. That's what he said. Is that true, baby?"
You raise a hand to cup his cheek and he immediately melts into the comfort. He's on edge. You can feel it. You shake your head confidently.
"No Steve, it's not." the weight seems to drop from his shoulders, he is immediately relaxed. "I, regrettably, used to be friends with him but that's it." your words are firm as is the truth that laces them.
"I'm your girl Steve, only yours."
He nods solemnly, ruefully almost. But the whole thing still sits heavy on his chest.
"Can you prove it to me?"
Steve looks you up and down slowly, his hands caressing over the outsides of your thighs with a featherlight touch that feels like static dancing over your skin. You arch a brow and continue to stroke your thumb over his cheekbone, noticing his lips twitch while he poorly hides a smile.
"You have something in mind, don't you?"
He grins wolfishly and nods, strands of his hair falling into his face that he couldn't care enough to fix right now. You do it for him, carding a hand through the brunette mess that it has become thanks to an evening of disorderly partying.
"Gonna tell me what it is, or are you just going to keep behaving like a toddler?" you say through a small laugh, watching Steve's expression scrunch as if offended. He narrows his eyes at you playfully.
"I'm not acting like a toddler..." he mumbles, chinning his head up as if trying to hold it proud. You scoff. "Yeah you are Stevie. You stormed into the room all angry, stamping your feet and charging over to me I mean-"
Steve grabs you by the neck, not a rough hold but not soft, just enough to stem your words.
"Alright alright, that's enough out of you, baby." in a matter of a second you watch his eyes grow dark again, his pupils taking over the brown of his irises as they dilate. You swallow nervously and Steve feels it against his palm, he slacks his grip.
"Are you going to prove to me that you're my girl? Yeah?" his eyes are fixated on your lips and he trails two fingers down the column of your throat, their rough warmth earning a timid shiver. You nod and hum.
"As long as you're not too drunk, Stevie, then of course I will." the fact that you're still being so caring and cautious even when he's rife with jealously absolutely melts Steve and he almost struggles to keep up his bravado. He smiles sheepishly and kisses your forehead with all the usual tenderness while his hand cups your neck. Your pulse is running fast beneath his touch and he loves it, not failing to notice how you've seemingly crumbled when he got even slightly demanding.
"I'm good, honey. Sobered up real fast when Hargrove tried to get at what's mine." he noses at your temple, one hand dropping to your waist and impatiently worming under your shirt to seek out the warmth of your skin. Steve squeezes your side in an open hand, contented to be holding the plush of your body.
You giggle and he savours the saccharine sound.
"Okay baby," another knock to his attempt to take control that sits hot on his chest. "What's your plan then?" you trail your hands just lightly down Steve's sides and he has to grab both your wrists to keep from giving in to you. He swallows thickly.
"Get on your knees," he begins, timbre thick with lust. "Right here for me, baby." you both look down as he stomps on the patch of carpet at the end of the bed, directly in front of both of you.
A hot flush rolls over you, electric excitement from head to toe. You're pretty sure you know what Steve's little plan entails.
"Can you do that?" his eyes are searching you carefully, all concern and caution. You nod eagerly. "Good girl. Use your colour system if you need to, you can always stop me if it gets too much, got it?"
"Got it."
You stand quicker then Steve anticipated, laughing when he recoils as if startled. Mimicking your airy laugh he grabs you firm by the shoulders, turning you both so that he can take your seat on the edge of the bed while you drop to the floor between his spread legs.
The carpet is a familiar roughness under your skin that only provides a very light padding from the floorboards beneath it. Normally Steve would throw a pillow down for you, one on which you would later rest your head. But as you look to him now he's already pulling his belt free from the loops of his jeans and hastily shucking the denim off down his legs. You can't help the small giggle that escapes your lips.
Steve pauses and a weird sense of nervousness settles over you, one like you've never felt before, especially not with him.
"Something funny, baby?" he continues to undress himself, letting his jeans pool at his ankles before he kicks them off. You shake your head and swallow the breath that had caught in your throat.
Steve keens down and grabs you by your jaw, finger and thumb squeezing your cheeks. He leans down, casting shadow over you like a storm creeping in on the horizon. "Good." he drags his thumb across your bottom lip, gathering a smear of spit. "Now c'mon and put that pretty mouth to good use, hm? Show me who it belongs to."
You cast your eyes down to his crotch, specifically the unmissable outline of Steve's cock in his boxers. He twitches under your gaze as he sits back, hands behind his hips with palms flat to the sheets. He stares at you expectantly, wetting his lips with a teasing dart of his tongue.
You nod and get to work.
Slowly but surely you trail a delicate touch up his thighs, almost light enough to tickle. With thumbs rolled around to the insides of them you track up, eventually coming to rest at his hips. Steve shivers and tenses beneath you, the muscles of his thighs tightening.
You dip you fingers into the waistband of his boxers and hurry them down, eyes fixated onto the outline of his waiting erection. He helps by lifting his hips from the sheets just enough so that you can sneak them under him. You hum thankfully.
With one quick yank Steve's boxers are halfway down his thighs and his cock stands free, bouncing up to his tummy with a bead of precum sitting pretty on his tip.
The back of your throat goes dry as if sore already and Steve laughs dryly while you pull his boxers the rest of the way down. He kicks them aside where they land in a sad pile with his jeans, both items doomed to forgotten until sometime in the next week.
"Go on, angel." Steve smirks down at you, dropping a hand to cup the back of your neck and draw your closer.
His touch is warm, fingertips gentle where they hold you with all the usual sweetness of Steve. But his eyes tell a completely different story when you dare to meet them, brows knotted and eyes squinted in a way you've seen a couple times before.
Jealousy.
It corrupts his handsome features and shatters his usual tenderness. A fact made clear when his grip tightens with impatience and a coarse grunt escapes his lips.
You spit into your hand and keen forward on your knees, resting your head onto Steve's hairy thigh and finally bringing your hand to warp around his cock. You can't quite wrap your digits fully around his girth, fingertip and thumb unable to meet on the underside of his shaft, but neither of you mind. It's actually kind of hot, how big he feels in your soft hands.
He groans when you collect the bead of precum with your thumb and smear it over his tip, helping to ease the beginning pumps of your hand along with your spit. Steve trails two fingers around the side of your neck, following the curve of the collar of your shirt before hooking them beneath the fabric. He pulls once.
"Take this off for me, baby." he pulls again, rubbing the cotton between finger and thumb.
You huff and reluctantly pull back to grab the bottom of your shirt, shimmying it up before you tug it off over your head. It joins the pile with Steve's jeans and boxers, another article of clothing lost to the floor of a teenage boys bedroom.
"And this." he now sneaks his fingers underneath your bra strap, stretching it away from your body before letting it snap back into place. You wince and huff, sending him an unimpressed look as if to say 'really?'
"Don't make me do it myself, babe, thought you were meant to be proving a point here." his words almost could've sounded playful if it wasn't for the deep lilt to them, a seriousness so unlike Steve that you have to look up to check that it's still him.
Sure enough it is. He is tugging his shirt off over his head like he normally would in his impatience, but his cheeks are flushed, brows are still furrowed maybe even more so, and eyes almost look to be pleading a silent cry. It's unlike him.
"Steve, what's your colour?"
"Green." he flashes a small smile, one of reassurance and confidence.
You reach behind your back and unclip your bra with ease, feeling the immediate relief as it slackens around your ribs. Shrugging your shoulders you let it gradually slide down your arms in no real hurry, almost enjoying the glide of the fabric and the way the warmth of the room seeks out your exposed skin.
With a heavy set gaze Steve watches the garment fall away from you, smirking smugly when you throw it aside. He reaches a hand down to grope at one of your breasts.
"Good girl."
You shudder deeply and take a long, shaky breath in. Meanwhile Steve's hand works it's way back up your neck, pressing gently on the hickey left earlier to elicit a delicious whine. His touch follows up until he is cupping your jaw with a firm grip, thumb swiping lazily at your bottom lip.
"Come on then, baby, I'm done waiting. Hurry up and put that pretty mouth to good use."
You once again spit into your hand and wrap deft fingers around the base of his cock, leaning forward to timidly lick at his seeping tip. Steve bucks his hips in an attempt to force himself past the seal of your lips but you know his tricks and draw back with the movement, making him huff impatiently as he tracks a hand into your hair.
You intend to take your sweet time unravelling Steve like you always do, despite the way his thigh so subtly trembles with impatience. A warning sign in hindsight.
With a hum you lick up the underside of his shaft along a waiting vein, feeling the weight of his cock twitch on your tongue. He bunches some of your hair up in his fist and tugs gently. Another warning that goes ignored out of pure ignorance.
Steve utters your name like a hushed prayer, something so quiet it's as if it was designed not to fall on ears of innocence, something secret, something lewd. He tugs again, harder, coaxing and demanding.
You whine and part your lips, keeping your tongue underneath him to guide his heavy tip into your mouth. A rivulet of precum slides down your throat when you wrap your soft lips around him, earning and unbidden moan from above you. Satisfied, Steve relaxes his grip on your hair and pets through it idly.
Gradually you begin to bob your head, sinking his cock further into your mouth with each downward push while your hand continues to cater to his base. He groans above you when you hollow your cheeks, keeping the weight of him resting on your tongue to help.
You know you can't take all of Steve like this, you never have been able to. He reassures you that it's fine, he doesn't mind, it still feels so fucking good but you can't help the pang of disappointment you feel each time you fail to take him deeper. But Steve, being the sweetheart he is, doesn't want you to struggle so you just take him as far as you can and let your hand do the rest.
This occasion seems like it will be no different as Steve's seeping tip hits the back of your throat and you struggle to stifle a gag around him, just about managing to mask it behind a swallow. So you do what you always do to compensate and let it get a little messy.
Spit seeps at the corners of your mouth and creates a path down your chin, you lips slick to help ease the glide of them over his cock. Steve is groaning above you but his hand on your head twitches, his foot bounces and breaths grow deeper like he is suppressing something.
"That's it," Steve grumbles, tone dripping with something heady and unholy. "Such a good mouth, and all mine, hm?" he bucks his hips and this time you fully fail not to gag, throat spasming and eyes watering. You whine and he almost seems satisfied by the sound.
Normally Steve would be drawing his hips back, cradling your jaw and muttering little sorrys, telling you how well you're doing and just to relax and go easy. But now? He laughs.
It's an almost mocking little chide of a chuckle, something so uncharacteristic it makes your stomach twist with something hot. Steve doesn't let up, just pushes his hips forward again and with a steady grip on your hair tries to drag you further onto his cock.
You don't quite gag this time, letting your eyes flutter shut to stem the tears that threaten to fall from your waterline. A hum of approval rings out from above you.
"That's better. Know you can take it, babe, just relax your throat." another thrust that stings sharp at the back of your mouth and your hands fly up to grasp his thighs as if the stabilisation will help.
Steve pauses and strokes along your hairline with his thumb.
"Hey, baby," he hushes, voice suddenly filled with it's usual honeyed sweetness. "Look at me, angel," you force your eyes into an open squint and look up at him through their glassiness. His features have softened, a twitchy smile on his lips and a patient gaze watching you.
"Tap three times if you need me to stop, okay? That can be your red. Twice for amber, got it?"
You nod as best you can with a mouthful of cock which makes Steve huff an airy laugh. "Good girl, m'gonna be a little rougher with you yeah? 'Nd you're gonna take it and prove to me who this slutty fuckin' throat belongs to."
Steve punctuates his words with a harsher thrust, his tip pushing at the back of your throat. He holds it there and lets you adjust, your eyes shut tight once again as the first tear falls it's salty trail down your cheek. He collects it with his thumb.
"Not bad." he grumbles tersely, trekking his hand back up to grab a fistful of hair. It stings at your roots when he tugs but you ignore it, focusing all your efforts on opening up your throat and suppressing that damn gag reflex.
With a steady grip Steve takes full control of it all, bringing your head back and forth with a strength he's never used on you before. As if it were automatic you're giving in to his domineering touches, letting him fuck into your mouth and caring not for the spit that drips down your chin, a mess you'd normally be keeping under some semblance of control.
Grunts are falling from his lips, deep, guttural sounds that rumble from out of his chest and make your head spin like you were weightless. He thrusts his hips in time with how he drags you, his mushroom tip intruding further into your throat but you take it, with eyes watering and a couple tears escaping you take it like you've done it all before.
Steve hums, impressed. "There you go. Good slut." his words hit you like a hot wave that coils with sparks in your tummy. Without even realising it you're clenching your thighs together, a fruitless attempt to suppress the second heartbeat that runs wild at your aching cunt.
Steve barks another laugh, entertained by your change in demeanour. "Awe," he coos, thrusting and making you wince. It stings a little but it's so fucking good to have your mouth and throat feel so full, and you're not even all the way down his cock yet. "You liked that? Like it when I call you a slut?"
You whine and show him just how much you liked it by pushing yourself further onto him without his guidance. You're rewarded with a deliciously loud, bone-rattling moan that you're sure at least one partygoer downstairs heard.
Pride blooms in your chest. A twisted and lewd sense of accomplishment that has your body flushing fire hot from head to toe. You want it again, that outcry that says more than any hurried praise could.
You bob your head shallowly, holding his dick at the same depth and sucking gently with hollowed cheeks. Steve's thighs begin to tremble underneath your palms, a steady shake that he doesn't even acknowledge. But you know what it means.
"Fucking hell." he groans, bringing an unsteady hand to the back of your head. "Come on babe, take it all, know you can." he thrusts forward with the most ardency yet, bullying his cock into your throat as your nose meets the trim patch of chestnut pubes above it.
Steve folds over you, hunched and groaning with jaw slack and breaths ragged. You gag hard but he doesn't draw back, just bucks into your face to get off, the weight of his balls smacking your chin while you face is flush to his body.
Tears fall, streams of heavy droplets cascading down your burning cheeks and sullying your pretty face. He whispers through a gravelly moan, "That's it, cry on my cock baby- fuck yes- such a slut for it aren't you?"
A scratchy whine pushes forward from the back of your throat but it's all you can manage. Your thighs are pressed together tightly and you could swear you're dripping, but it's not enough and you're fucking aching to be touched. Aching for Steve.
His thrusts are growing sloppy, sporadic, and you know you're about to break him even before he says, "Fuck-" his voice is broken, coarse like a growl. "Shit- gotta stop or m'gonna cum baby." he begins to draw his hips back but you follow the movement with an eager keen forward. Steve hisses.
"Goddamn- such a slut for this cock huh? T-Too bad- fuck- you've had enough, can't spoil that pretty mouth too m-much can we?"
With a fistful of hair he's pulling you off his dick, dragging himself out of your throat with an obscene wet noise thanks to all the spit soiling you, a string of which webs between your swollen lips and his tip. He twitches in front of you and it feels like some wicked taunt only made worse by the sickening smirk that tugs at his features.
The emptiness is indescribable. Your throat is sore but not in an angry way, no, it's more like a sad, cold chill that creeps in to the vacancy. Not to mention the fact that Steve denied you his cum. The warm, thick gush would've felt so good down your throat, and you worked so hard for it too only to be denied.
You whine. A pitiful, begging of a noise made in lieu of a please.
Steve coos down at you, a small 'awe' made with a click of his tongue. His hand trails around to caress your cheek, a delicate touch that sends static bouncing over your skin. His thumb sweeps at your bottom lip, the rough pad of it spreading spit lewdly.
"Such a good girl." he praises and a heat blooms in your tummy, a twist of pride that melts you down even more. "Did such a good job showing me who that pretty mouth belongs to, didn't you?" you nod vehemently, swallowing a gulp that lumps in your achey throat.
The way Steve is staring down at you, sweet brown eyes swallowed by the black expanse of his blown pupils, makes you feel on edge. Your skin is tingling, anticipation rising goosebumps over the soft surface of your body and you could swear you're staring to like this feeling. It's like you're in limbo, waiting for whatever comes next. Whatever he decides to give you.
"Get up for me, baby," Steve drawls "I want you on your front, ass up." you stand immediately as he does, colliding chest to chest. You try to step around him but he grabs your arms where they rest at your side, holding you still.
Steve leans in and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, much more characteristic of your boy. He whispers, "Colour?"
You giggle, a small and airy suggestion of a laugh that fans out of your nostrils. Slowly but surely one of Steve's hands is creeping around to grope your breast, gazing at you apprehensively when his thumb nears your pebbled nipple. "Green."
He tweaks your nipple with no intention to be gentle and captures your lips greedily with his, swallowing the shaky moan that escapes you. You can feel his smile pressed against you, your puffy bottom lip tucked snug between his.
Steve turns you both in one swift motion, breaking your heated kiss, much to your dismay as an unbidden whine passes your lips, and pushing you to the bed where you land on the sheets with a dull thud. He's smirking down at you, nude with arms crossed over his chest and cock twitching alluringly.
"Panties off, ass up. The skirt can stay." he has one command and delivers it clearly, watching as you scuffle to pull you panties down your legs with trembling hands. Steve helps you with the final tug, looping the sodden fabric off of your ankles impatiently.
As soon as they're gone from your body you're positioning yourself in the centre of the bed, chest almost flat to the sheets while you hold yourself up on your elbows and knees. An affirmative hum rings out from behind you, your boyfriend watching you ready yourself for him while he plays with your panties, thumb smearing around the wetness gathered inside.
When you finally still Steve takes it as his sign to follow, clambering onto the bed behind you with knees bracketing yours. His leg hairs tickle you and you titter, basking in the familiarity of him.
Steve keens over you, his shadow swallowing you and his warmth engulfing you in a way you'll never tire of as he reaches for one of the pillows in front of you. He sneaks it under your hips, fluffing it to make it plush before coaxing you down with a hand on the small of your back.
"There you go, angel." he croons, voice velvety as he presses a delicate kiss to your shoulder with burning lips before sitting back on his haunches. You shudder deeply, anticipation tingling over your skin when you hear Steve spit into his hand.
He takes his cock into his fist, pumping himself a couple times before slapping his tip on your glistening cunt. You mewl, instinctively flinching away from the touch that sends a delicious shock along your body.
You're so worked up and your own aching desperation has left you so sensitive, so much so that even the littlest touch from Steve feels electric. You have a lingering gut feeling that you're going to unravel so easily tonight, and it's going to go straight to Steve's head.
With a bruising grip on your hips he drags you back to him, earning a feeble yelp. "Stay still, slut."
Smack!
Steve strikes your ass firmly with an open palm and a roar of a moan passes your lips, one loud enough to echo off the garishly decorated walls of his bedroom, one loud enough to be heard by everyone partying downstairs. It stings sharply, a sensation that spreads outwardly over your skin and settles to a hot buzzing left behind.
But it felt fucking good.
Steve hums, salaciously satisfied. "Aw," he tuts derisively, "You liked that, hm baby?" one of his hands soothes over the afflicted skin with sweeping motions while the other drags his cock up and down the slick seam of your cunt.
You whine in lieu of a yes, trying to rock your hips back against the teasing touch. He grunts, and strikes your ass again, albeit more gently. Another moan tries to lurch forward from the back of your throat but you just about manage to stem it by biting down on your bottom lip.
"Use your words, baby." he grumbles, tracing your clit with his seeping tip and making you shudder deeply. "Y-Yes, I liked it..."
You feel like you're burning up, skin hot to the touch and senses in overdrive. This new side of Steve, something never before seen and wholeheartedly unexpected, is driving you crazy. You and him have never shared a dynamic like this before, one in which you give in to his every desire so willingly because it elicits an excitement you've never known before.
Normally you and him have a pretty 'standard' dynamic, for want of a better word. But this? This opens up a whole new world of possibilities that you're eager to explore right here on his bed.
"Good," Steve hums, tapping the head of his cock on your aching hole. Your leg twitches and you clench around nothing, groaning in frustration.
"Stevie please just fuck me." it sounded more ardent than you meant it too, not quite demanding but not as pliant as he wouldn't liked. He grunts, pausing in a way that would suggest that he's thinking.
Steve is quickly growing to be equally as impatient as you are. Your mouth felt fucking heavenly but he knows there's nothing sweeter than your cunt. But he is meant to be proving a point. You are meant to be proving a point.
The jealousy still courses through him, fuelling movements that would normally be too strident for the gentle hand of Steve Harrington. His need to prove that you are in fact 'his girl' has yet to be satiated, and while he finds himself wanting to cave, to pepper sweet kisses over the expanse of your skin and mutter sweet praises between each press of his love bitten lips, you seemed to be enjoying his more crude treatment.
The way you were shivering with anticipation, keening forward at the strikes of his palm and moaning out before he had even truly touched you. Yeah, you were enjoying this. So what need would there be to stop?
"Say it again." Steve commands, once again rubbing the tip of his cock over your neglected clit. You try your best to stifle a whine that tries to rise from your chest and swallow the lump in your sore throat.
"Fuck me Steve, p-please..."
"Louder." another spank, a harder one that makes you gasp under your breath.
"Fuck me Steve!"
As if on queue a light flickers and something crashes downstairs, the distant noise followed by some muffled semblance of a group cheer. Fuck, some of them definitely heard that, didn't they?
Your body is burning up with a white hot embarrassment that you don't even have time to dwell on before Steve is bullying his cock into you with one slow yet forceful thrust. There's the usual stretch, a promise that you'll be sore later, and a shamelessly visceral moan from both of you that weighs heavy in the air.
You take a deep breath in, one that rattles your chest while your bottom lip quivers. You wait, expecting the usual pause that Steves allows you to adjust to him, a tense silence filled with lascivious suspense and a soothing hand up your back.
It doesn't happen.
Instead Steve's hand reaches the smooth between your shoulder blades, his fingertips drumming once in turn, and pushes you down into the pillows. He sets an immediately fast pace of deep thrusts, his thighs smacking into the backs of yours that ripple at the impact.
A scream of a moan escapes you, an unbidden outcry that cracks like his voice usually would. It's almost too much, a nerve numbing pleasure that searing hot in the pits of your stomach. He's already hitting that sweet spot inside you thanks to the way he has you positioned. Each rhythmic strike is electric under your skin, a shock that tingles head to toe.
Smack!
Steve's hand comes down on your ass yet again and the noise of the impact bounces off the walls in the stuffy, sex-smelling bedroom. "Fucking hell," he groans under his breath, almost a purr.
He's staring directly at the point where your bodies meet, watching his cock disappear inside you with an obscene and wet ease.
You hook your arms under the pillow in front of you and press your face into its fabric, the smell of Steve crowding your nostrils from where he had slept there. The cotton freshness of the pillow case is tainted by that of his hairspray, a different type of freshness in its own right that's suffocatingly familiar.
Then of course the amberwood of his cologne that dizzies your senses. A scent associated with everything sweet, saccharine and Steve now twisted by the way he drives his dick into you from behind, striking all the right places with each rut forward.
"Fuck! Steve!" you gasp out, twisting the plush of the pillow in balled fists in a weak attempt to ground yourself. The noise in the room is disgusting, pornographic. The resonant slap of skin against skin, the creak of a bed frame that is years overdue a replacement, the steady beat of its headboard meeting the wall, and of course the unrestrained moans of two people drunk on the feeling of each other's bodies.
"Oh my god baby-" Steve's voice is husk, a deep seated grumble like that of his morning timbre. "So fuckin- oh god- so good." his thighs twitch, brows knot in the middle and eyes fall shut in turn. He is as wrecked as you.
It doesn't take long until the tingling pleasure starts to cloud in the lower pits of your tummy, a tense knot forming that grows tighter with each thrust from your boyfriend. You let it happen, feeling you deserve the pooling heat that makes your legs begin to quiver.
But Steve feels it, feels the way you clench around him, and delivers another quick spank that has you lurching forward.
"Getting close already, hm?" he chastises, tormentingly slowing the piston of his hips. You whine a broken protest, feeling the heat in your centre subside almost painfully when he mellows out. "Aren't you forgetting something, slut?" his attempt to sound venomous is sabotaged by the quiver in his tone, his own telltale sign that he's falling apart.
"Please-" you start, throat sore and voice weak. "Please can I cum Steve? P-please I need- I need it..." the desperation that lines your words melts him, a sticky heartache that signals the beginning of his surrender.
"Good girl," Steve grumbles, hunching over slightly and wrapping a hand underneath you, pushing past the pillow to find your aching clit. As soon as his fingertips find the sensitive bud he begins drawing firm and haphazard circles, one's that send static pleasure coursing over your skin. "Go on then, cum for me." you moan out for him, feeling to lose yourself when he sets his pace again.
"Shit-!" it builds fast, a white hot type of ecstasy that gives you goosebumps. It's tight in your stomach, a coil twisting impossibly taut that threatens release with every passing second.
Then it snaps.
You keen forward, forcing Steve to chase your trembling body. The moan you let out is best described as a scream, the type of sound otherwise heard in cheap pornos. But it's fucking good. It's burns through you head to toe before fizzling out like a sparkler when you gush wet on Steve's cock that twitches inside your clenched cunt. You legs fall beneath you, your figure swallowed in the sheets as your mind fuzzies beyond coherent thought.
But Steve isn't letting up, instead supporting himself on his elbows either side of you and pressing his chest flat to your back, his body your shadow. His lips ghost by your ear, guttural groans pouring in that become the only sound you can hear.
The pace of his hips falters and crumbles along with his bravado, his voice nothing above a hoarse, boyish whine as he teeters on the edge of his orgasm.
"Oh good god-" he rasps, timbre stripped of all authority. "Gonna cum baby- fuck- gonna fill you up, know why?" he's holding his quivering bottom lip between his teeth and nosing into the side of your head, all the while pushing you further toward overstimulation as you struggle to compose yourself enough to respond. "'Cause you're my girl- m-mine, including this sweet pussy."
He stills suddenly and presses his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, poorly masking a thunderous moan. You feel it then, the warm gush inside your fluttering cunt, an obscene sensation that makes you feel so filthy. You gasp underneath him, body limp and exhausted in the best way.
It stills, and a silence fills the room. No more creaking bed frame, no more hammering headboard, just panting breaths and rattled chests.
Steve wraps his arms under you, his weight lax on top of you as he slowly kisses down your shoulder as if in apology. "Jesus Christ," you sigh after a moment, shaking with mirth. He mimics your titter, carefully pushing himself up onto his palms as if suddenly aware that he might be too heavy over you. "Yeah," he breathes, smiling like a lovesick fool.
With mutual reluctance he hauls himself up and pulls out, hissing through gritted teeth as his softening dick slips out of you followed by a rivulet of his cum that trails down your thigh. He smirks proudly. "My girl."
You scoff, hiding your burning face back into his pillows. "Shut up," you mumble with no real malice, instead more shyness than anything else. "Hurry and clean me up, Harrington."
Steve is already pulling some boxers back on as you scold him, rolling his eyes at just how fast your attitude returns. He loves it really, it reassures him in a way, tells him that he wasn't too much and that you're just fine. "You could at least ask nicely," he tuts playfully, retrieving a pair of gym shorts to throw on too. "But since you've been so good I guess I'll let that slide," he narrows his eyes at you. "For now."
You smile at that, the pounding of your heart finally settling as you watch him pat himself down before striding to the door on legs that still tremble just enough to notice. "Be back in a minute, baby." he smiles big and proud, sneaking out of the room.
As soon as the door is shut behind him there's a muffled cheer from downstairs. Shit, the party. Most of the attendees had left but you suppose a few stray drunkards have stuck around until they're physically kicked out, since some of them are too far gone to even find the front door. That's what you hear next as Steve is laughing through some embarrassment and by the sounds of things trying to herd them out the house. The door slams. He curses, then laughs again after a beat of quiet.
Luckily for you Steve is back within the minute, well, more or less. He kicks the door open and bumps it with his hip for good measure to sidle back into the room, a folded pile of clothes in one hand and a damp washcloth in the other. It drips once and the carpet swallows up the droplet.
The boy smirks at the sight of you, his cheeks dusted pink over freckles. He drops the clothes onto the bed beside you and wastes no time getting behind you again, nearly choking on a breath at the view of your sloppy cunt.
"God babe," he sighs contently, ever so carefully wiping his cum off the inside of your thighs with the warm rag. You shudder and hum. "Like what you see, Stevie?" you give him a little wiggle of your hips and he titters a dulcet yet resonant sound in the quiet of the bedroom. "Fuck yeah I do."
Slowly he brings the washcloth up to wipe over your cunt, the most gentle of touches but still you shiver and hiss just loud enough for him to hear. You're so sensitive, but how could you refuse such tender care? "Sorry baby," Steve mumbles, carefully cleaning you up. "Nearly done."
After another tick of silence before he throws the cloth away, letting it hit the side of a dresser and fall to a sad puddle on the floor. You huff a laugh, flopping onto your back as soon as it's safe to do so and listening to the mattress creak in complaint, it's springs long tired of the way you two abuse them.
"How you feeling?" Steve asks, picking up the clothes he had brought in. A pair of his boxers and an old hoodie of some description, you think maybe a country club one. Both articles are fresh out of the laundry room and still warm from the dryer, though you aren't sure when he must've put that on for them to be ready now...
"I'm good," you smile, glassy eyes squinting. "Sore, but good, great even." your boyfriend mimics your grin and waves you over to him with a signalling hand, encouraging you to the beds edge that you hook your knees over. He hums happily.
"You did so well," he murmurs as if to himself, waiting for you to lift your arms up so he can pull the faded hoodie over your figure. "Did such a good job for me." when your head pops out the top of the neck hole Steve is quick to lean in and kiss your cheek, then your nose, then your other cheek all in domino before he captures your lips with his. You giggle into him before he can pull away with that unmistakable smirk on his face.
"Did I prove it to you?" you quiz coyly, confusing the boy momentarily. He helps your ankles into his boxer shorts, snorting a laugh if realisation when they're half way up your legs. "Oh," he breathes, pulling you to your feet. You yelp, hands pressing into his chest to catch yourself. His heart is beating wildly under your palm.
"You sure did, baby, thank you." a kiss on the temple, too chaste for your liking. The boxers are pulled all the way up over the plush of your ass that he gives a generous squeeze. "Now come on, my girl needs to go piss before we can lay down and cuddle."
"Ew, Steve! Way to ruin the moment." you scoff and push him back with palms flat on his pecs, pouting when he doesn't move an inch. He laughs jovially and the sound feels like summer.
"Safety first babe! Let's go come on." Steve picks you up in strong arms and you've no choice but to let him, your body like putty in his hold. You give in to him, your head falling to his broad shoulder while you nose into his neck. Sweat, boy, and still the subtlety of hairspray.
"Fine..."
masterlist
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𖥻 summary: in which steve gets jealous when his best friend tells him about their new friend, eddie.
𖥻 pairing: steve harrington x reader.
𖥻 warnings: none, i think.
💭 liv's thoughts: i guess i'm writing now. so here's some things you should know: english is not my first language, so if you see any mistakes, please tell me! and i'm planning on writing a part two for this, hopefully it'll be longer. <3
THIS IS SPOILER FREE!
“steve, you should've seen it! i just threw the dice and got a twenty, seriously, how lucky am i? and when we defeated vecna, everyone just went insane! it was awesome, even eddie smiled” you laughed as if you were telling the most adventurous story about a group of heroes, and not about the campaign you did with the hellfire club yesterday. “i didn't know he could do that, since we thought that he was, you know, weirdly intimidating and grumpy all the time, but it turns out he's actually super nice.”
you ended your recollection by taking a deep breath and smiling in the boy's direction, feeling like you couldn’t take your eyes off of his face until you got a reaction out of him. and you kept staring for almost a minute, when he eventually outstared you, with a blank look on his face, looking almost bored.
the silence was cut off when he suddenly asked “so you're in their little club now?”
“what? no! i told the boys to bring erica to the next campaign since she's waaay better than me at d&d” you commented while steve just nodded, uninterested. “but eddie asked me to hang out with them, since he couldn't believe it was my first time playing… guess i'm a natural, huh?”
you said jokingly, expecting at least a smile from him, but he managed to look even more bored now.
“and you're gonna start hanging out with him now?” was that all he got from what you've said?
“well, yeah ‘cause he invited me” you answered, with your eyebrows furrowed, not really understanding the route the conversation took, and getting slightly annoyed by the lingering blank stare on his face, which seemed to be getting deeper and grumpier with each passing second. “in fact, we are going to listen to the metal mixtape he's gonna make me”
“you like metal now?” he scoffed, and that was it for you.
with an extremely displeased look on your face, you exclaimed, “can you stop turning everything i say into a question?” the annoyance in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by steve, but he honestly didn’t care. in fact, he loved it, that little shit. “and yes, i like metal now”
“because eddie introduced it to you? i've never heard you say anything about that van halen album i bought you” steve raises his eyebrows, and you let out an exasperated sigh. “what? are you gonna tell me that i'm wrong?”
“yes! because you didn't even bought it for me. you somehow got it mixed up with a duran duran album, and tommy h. didn't like david lee roth, so i took it” you clarified, still amazed by the incident after all these years “is there anything more you'd like to complain about?”
“i’m not complaining” he denies, crossing his arms. “but i do have one more question for you”
“shoot” you sighed.
“is he your new best friend?”
“oh my god, steve, shut up!”
“i'm serious! dustin doesn't spend any time with me now, since he's, like, his apprentice or something… i just don't want you to stop hanging out with me and getting involved with his satanic shit or whatever”steve muttered, getting distracted by a sticker robin glued to the store's counter.
“are you really worried about that?” you asked, upset for knowing that something like that would ever cross his mind. you paused for a bit, deciding to say something to, at least, ease his doubts a bit. “you're my best friend ever since third grade and you're, like, my favorite person in the world at this point. even if you annoy the shit out of me sometimes, i feel like i'd go even crazier without you by my side”
it was relieving seeing him smile after what you've said, and even more soothing when he gave you an awkward hug from behind the counter. you just laughed, accepting his warmth gladly. after you both parted, you could see his flushed cheeks and his almost-lovesick smile, and you doubted you were any different than him.
“you know, i don't really think that the club is satanic, though.”
“seriously?” he groaned.
steve masterlist | main masterlist | navigation
𖤐 hey! wanna talk? leave me a message after the beep ─ currently accepting requests for concepts & moodboards for eddie munson and steve harrington.
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Summary: Aka Steve is jealous of Tony and Nat's friendship, gets the wrong idea, and requires a little help from Nat herself to get some well-needed perspective.
amore mio (ao3) - halfasgoodatanything
N/R, 1k
Summary: tony is touchy and affectionate with others, and steve wants him to just love him. and love him in the way he loves him.
Dad, Get Off My Boyfriend (ao3) - dinolaur
G, 5k
Summary: Howard accidentally time travels to the future, Steve is excited, and jealousy is an ugly color on Tony.
Everybody Wonders (What It Would Be Like to Love You) (ao3) - SoldiersShield
T, 2k
Summary: Steve and Tony have been dancing around each other for a while now, and Steve's rather content with it. Attending a gala together just might change that.
Flirt with Me (ao3) - holmesintardis
E, 2k
Summary: In his own way, Steve finally comes to grips with Tony’s incessant flirting. Tony can’t say he doesn’t love Steve’s methods.
Good Enough (ao3) - nowalee
T, 6k
Summary: Watching Tony flirt with yet another person is maybe making Steve a little bit jealous. Or a lot. Luckily, Natasha is there to give him some harsh truths and offer advice. Or, Steve is jealous, Tony is insecure, and Natasha is done with them.
Hold Fast, Dear Captain (ao3) - RoseGoldAmpersand
E, 7k
Summary: Tony remembered Doctor Stephen Strange from the more wild nights of his youth, but he was pretty sure Strange hadn’t worn a cape back then. At an Avenger’s gala, Tony reunites with his ex-lover and a jealous Captain America sets out to remind his partner exactly who it is he belongs to.
In Which Steve is Jealous But Claims Not to Be (ao3) - misbehavingvigilante
M, 1k
Summary: Things are complicated with Tony.Steve knows he’s not always the easiest person to get along with so maybe some of that tension is because of him, or at least he admits that on his more charitable days. They don’t really argue all that much, which should mean that their relationship has no complications, but somehow it does regardless.Somehow, Thor doesn’t seem to have the same problems with Tony.
my name is steve (ao3) - starksnack
G, 1k
Summary: Tony wrongly assumes that Steve likes Bucky.
overheard your heartbeat (calling me yours) (ao3) - starklystar
T, 15k
Summary: Or, Tony overhears a phonecall where Steve proposes, a battle happens, and a paper ring settles some misunderstandings.
practice makes perfect (ao3) - starklystar
G, 7k
Summary: Or, 69 times Tony proposes, and the one time Steve says yes.
Selfish Secret (ao3) - ABrighterDarkness
T, 2k
Summary: He felt a heavy roll of animosity and jealousy roll through him strong enough to make his teeth ache as he watched that familiarly muscled arm drape over someone else’s shoulders. Tony could feel that comforting weight across his own as crystal clear in memory as the visual he was being treated to.
tell me that you love me (ao3) - idacarvalli
G, 3k
Summary: Tony’s not jealous. He swears he’s not.
It’s just that Sheriff Steve Rogers has been hanging around that gal Sharon Carter a little bit more than Tony would have liked. But he’s not jealous. He’s really not.
They say love is pain, well darling, let’s hurt tonight (ao3) - Moonlight511
G, 3k
Summary: Basically just Steve and Tony being insecure before finally talking to each other..
Turn a Little Faster (ao3) - ishipallthings
T, 5k
Summary: Tony and Natasha pose as a couple for an undercover mission. Steve doesn’t find this distracting. Not at all. And yet, it all goes downhill from there.
(Five times Steve is distracted thinking of Tony, and one time Tony distracts Steve on purpose.)
Unburied (ao3) - attenuata
E, 3k
Summary: Steve and Tony meet up after a long time away from each other. Tony has been repressing all his feelings and when he sees some women try to hit on Steve at the bar they're at, he can't control his jealousy. Will he confess his attraction to Steve or just be a dick?
What do you see (when I look at you) (ao3) - General16
T, 8k
Summary: Wherein Tony faces both of his biggest fears: Loosing Steve to someone younger and slowly growing older. The new omega and his asshole alpha do not improve his day at all.
What are you doing… (ao3) - Raw_Ramen_Noodles
E, 2k
Summary: Tony sees Steve flirting with a woman across the ballroom at the charity fundraiser they’re attending and is surprised to find out how much Steve liked the possessiveness he exhibits when he marches across the room.So they have sex. It’s all good
Summary: College wasn’t what you were expecting it to be. You didn’t have many friends, you didn’t party on the weekends, and your homework was always in on time. Things take a turn when your World War II instructor, Professor Rogers, asks you to stay behind one day after class. What will happen when lines get blurred, feelings get hurt, and two people from vastly different life paths fall in love?
> Word Count: 2.2K
> Warnings: 18+ MDNI; Age gap (Steve is in his early thirties, reader is twenty in this part), some mild language and thotty thoughts, history talk, no smut in this part.
A/N: AHHHHHHHHH this series will ruin me. I can’t wait to put it out. It’s gonna be so good and nasty. While this part is not explicit itself, most of the series will be, so MDNI and 18+ guys. I have no idea when the next parts will be out as I have other wips that need to be worked on, but AHHHHHHH I’m so excited for this you guys have no idea. Comments, likes, reblogs, and feedback is super appreciated! Love you guys <3
Main Masterlist
------------------
College was far from what you were expecting.
Parties, frats, friends, blacking out on a Tuesday in some randoms bathroom...
That’s what you were told was the “college experience”. Something everyone gets to go through as a right of passage once you get there.
They were so, so wrong.
Days spent in the library, nose in a book, pens out and ready to take notes- that’s what you got instead. It wasn’t the worst- your grades were fantastic and you were popular among the professors in your major’s department.
Maybe it was just that you loved learning and would do anything for good grades. Maybe it was just your anxiety. It didn’t help that you were already a junior, only four semesters left to go until you graduated with such little social experience under your belt.
Your favorite professor of the semester had to be Professor Rogers, your World War Two instructor. To be fair- he was popular amongst most of the undergraduates in your major- the guys liking his in-depth descriptions of events of the 30s and 40s and the girls enjoying that and the view. You couldn’t lie, Professor Rogers was insanely handsome, anyone with eyes could see that. Or they could hear it in his voice when he spoke during lectures, the depth of it alone enough to make you blush. Or, maybe if they got lucky, you could smell how handsome he was from the high-end cologne he often wore, the amber and sandalwood notes drifting through the classroom and lingering there all day.
It’s the class you were sitting in now, head down and hovering over your notebook as you quickly wrote notes while he spoke about the Battle of Midway.
“The Japanese lost approximately three thousand and fifty seven men, four carriers, one cruiser, and hundreds of aircraft, while the United States lost approximately three hundred and sixty two men, one carrier, one destroyer, and one hundred and forty four aircrafts. Any questions?” Professor Rogers said, turning to face the class of twenty students, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark blue dress pants.
Nearly ten hands raised, most of them just wanting to hear him speak for as long as possible before class was over. He chuckled lightly before he began answering question after question, your notes abandoned now that he was done with the lecture. You rested your head on your palm, your elbow dug into the solid wooden desk as you allowed yourself to zone out. His voice carried through the classroom, fluctuating slightly when he got to the last few questions. The room eventually got quiet, and you hadn’t realized most of the students had filtered out. Your attention was caught again when a large shadow loomed over your desk, amber and sandalwood flooding your senses, making you peer up.
“Did today’s lesson bore you, Miss Y/l/n?” Professor Rogers asked, a gentle grin on his face.
You hummed, shaking your head. “Not too much. Your way of explaining Midway was great.”
His grin grew into a full smile. “Well, I don’t think it helps that you’re already well versed on the topic. Not sure why you even took this course when you seem to know more about it than I do.” His pen dragged along the edge of your desk.
“It was this or Dr. Romanoff’s Russian Empire class and I’d much rather keep my gpa where it’s at.” You smiled back, the casual banter between you two a normalcy at this point. It was somehow easier for you to connect with your professors than it was your peers, and you and Professor Rogers had build a good rapport despite it only being a couple of weeks into the semester.
His eyes were soft on yours and you internally wished you had a photographic memory to capture how he was looking at you. Something you’d gladly look back on any chance you got.
“Have you started your research paper yet?” He asked, knowing you always liked to stay ahead of schedule.
Your hands moved under the desk, your thumbs twiddling around each other. “I know this might sound shocking, but I have not. I’m just having a difficult time narrowing down a topic.”
“Well, you have plenty of time to figure it out, but if you had any ideas you wanted to bounce around… this is my last class of the day. You can stay and we can discuss it if you’d like.” Professor Rogers offered, his brows slightly raised while he waited for an answer.
You really did need help to figure out a topic. Plus, who could say no to spending extra time with Professor Rogers? Even if it was only to discuss your research paper. You’d be an idiot to pass up the opportunity.
“Yeah, I’d appreciate that a lot, Professor.” You agreed, placing your notebook and pen back in your book bag.
“Great,” He started, walking down to his rectangular desk at the front and throwing a leather satchel over his shoulder. “We can move to my office if that’s alright, less noisy.” He said, motioning with his hand to the hallway outside.
You nodded, grabbing your book bag and following his lead. His office was connected to the classroom, so it wasn’t a long walk until the both of you were inside and he was closing the door behind you.
He cleared his throat, running a hand over his beard as he shuffled around to his desk chair. “Go ahead- have a seat, make yourself comfortable.” His voice was a little less formal now as he spoke to only you, something you took note of. It was still just as alluring, but less… intense, perhaps.
It was the first time you had ever been in his office. The two of you were alone, on top of that. You allowed yourself to look around, noticing the various decorations he had that cozied up the place. He had a few framed pictures, none of them featuring any sort of wife or kids, a bookshelf with its contents in pristine condition, a rubix cube and some small wooden puzzles, his degree framed and hanging on the wall behind him, some posters of World War Two propaganda, and a coat rack in the corner. It seemed very fitting, to say the least.
You sat yourself in the big leather chair across from his desk, crossing your legs at the thigh and untensing your shoulders. It was close enough to him that you could hear him breathing and your shoe was grazing the bottom of the desk, but far away enough to where you hoped he couldn’t see the flush in your face.
“Would you like some water or coffee or anything?” Professor Rogers offered, taking a quick swig of his own mug of black coffee.
“Oh, no thank you I’m fine.”
He threw you a tight lipped smile before asking to see what notes you’ve gathered so far. You reached down into your bag, grabbing your notebook back out and opening to the messily scribbled on page.
“So, my ideas for the topic are between the Blitzkrieg against Holland and Belgium, Dunkirk and Operation Dynamo, or Normandy and Operation Overlord.” You said, watching your professor read through the detailed notes you had jotted down about each one.
He leaned back in his chair, his eyes studying you.“You know- my colleagues weren’t wrong when they told me how great of a student you are. I guess I just didn’t expect this level of responsibility and brightness.”
He’s talked about you?
If your face was hot before- it was nearly melting now. “Oh, thank you, Professor. I’ve always been really invested in my studies, so…”
“It’s admirable, Y/n. In my seven years of teaching here I have yet to come across a student of your caliber. You raise the bar, that’s for sure.”
“Oh, now you’re just being too nice-”
He shook his head. “No, it’s completely true. Each time I grade something of yours I feel dumb. And I was a World War Two nerd back in the day.”
Your heart was fluttering like crazy and you felt like if he kept complimenting you like this you’d just explode right there in his fancy, and probably super expensive, leather office chair. “Thank you, Professor. I apologize for making you feel stupid.” You joked with a grin, hoping to lighten the air that surrounded you, the one that was drowning you in his scent.
A deep laugh rumbled from his chest. “Apology accepted. Now back to your paper…”
Professor Rogers sat there and talked with you, giving you amazing feedback on what topics he thought would work best, as well as writing down sources you could check out and use. By the time the two of you had wrapped up the sun was gone for the day, replaced by her sister glowing high and full in the obsidian sky.
“Shoot-” You started, glancing down at your watch and noticing the time. It was a quarter to ten. “I should probably get going. I didn’t even realize what time it was, sorry for keeping you here so long.” You finally stood, gathering your strewn out notes and shoving them into your bag before you tossed it on your back.
He stood too, reaching for his coat and satchel. “It’s not a problem, Y/n. Why don’t you let me drive you back to your dorm? It’s probably not too safe to walk there alone this late.”
“Oh, no I couldn’t ask you to do that- it’s okay.” You attempted to decline, not wanting your professor to go out of his way to drive you home when you’ve already taken up his night.
Once again, he shook his head. “You’re not asking, I offered and I insist. I’m sure you know how sketchy this campus can be after dark.”
You bit at your lip. “Are you sure?”
He moved to the door, his car keys twirling between his fingers. “Positive. C’mon.” He said as he held his office door open, the lights in the classroom already off. You threw him a sweet smile, slipping between the open door and waiting for him as he locked his office up.
The walk to the parking lot wasn’t long and was spent mostly in silence. The both of you came to a stop next to the only car left in the lot- a deep red Chrysler 300, and he moved to open the passenger door for you. You whispered a timid thank you.
His car was in such good condition you wondered if your professor was a secret germaphobe. It smelled like it had just been cleaned recently, too, but a single Black Ice air freshener hung from the rear view mirror, swaying slightly from the door closing once you were in. Your breathing was labored, heart nearly in your ass at the thought of being in your professor's car. Alone.
He climbed in just a moment later, shoving the keys into the ignition and letting the car whir to life. He looked over at you, already watching his movements intently.
“Where to?” He asked, that familiar grin back on his face.
You told him which residence hall you lived in, albeit a lot shakier than you intended to. He gave a nod, turning onto the main road in the direction of your dorm.
It was silent for a moment, but his voice rang out, startling you a bit. “I hope you didn't mind me being too forward with wanting to drive you home, but I would have been uncomfortable making you walk back by yourself this late.”
Oh fuck-
Oh sweet Jesus fucking Christ-
His hand had found a home on your thigh as he spoke, his warmth radiating through your jeans and into your skin, traveling somewhere that made you wanna-
“It’s fine, I just didn’t want to inconvenience you.” You managed to get out, completely and utterly baffled at how composed you sounded when you were on the verge of whimpering from his huge hand being so close to your-
He squeezed his hand down, your denim clad flesh tingling under his palm. And just as quickly as he put it there he retracted it, settling it back down on his own leg. “Not an inconvenience in the slightest. I promise.” He assured.
You hadn’t realized the car had stopped in front of your residence hall until your professor put the car in park. You glanced out the window before speaking. “Thanks again for driving me here, Professor Rogers.”
“Steve. You can just call me Steve- outside of class, I should specify.” He said, eyes finding yours in the low light of the car's interior.
You nearly choked on your breath.
Outside of class? What the fuck does that mean?
“Okay... well, thank you again- Steve.” You emphasized the name, smiling as you opened the passenger door and stepped out, grabbing your bag. Before you could close the door he called out.
“Have a good night, Y/n. See you Wednesday.”
“Yeah, see you then.” You said, finally shutting the car door and turning to walk inside, your eyes wide and your stomach doing an entire gymnastics routine. Your keys fumbled in your hands and you internally groaned, hoping he wasn’t still watching you even though you knew his car hadn’t left yet.
Your roommate, Yelena, was pacing in the kitchen when you got back, a half-eaten tub of ice cream held against her stomach.
“Dude! Where the hell have you been? You never get home this late- I was contemplating calling the cops.” She yelled through a bite of cookie dough.
The day's events swirled in your mind, a slight smile pulling at your lips. Your back leaned against the door, your thoughts racing.
“Oh you know- the library.” You lied.
“The library closes at eight on Mondays.”
You giggled, a dreamy stare lingering in your eyes as you made your way to your room. “Uh huh- goodnight Yelena”
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McDanno ficlet, (1200 word count)
Prompt: Fake Dating....with a twist because I love possessive/jealous Steve
Danny approached the table at Kamekona’s food truck with a file in hand. He motioned for Kame for his usual order while dropping the file onto the table.
“What’s that?” Kono asked while Steve was the one who picked it up and opened it.
Danny sighed and ran a hand through his hair before slumping into the corner seat, “A favor. One of my firefighter friends asked me to pretend to be his boyfriend while his parents visit for the weekend.”
“And you agreed?” Steve asked, voice low and cold as he read what was in the file. He frowned at how little information there was.
“I owed him heavily for some brownie points he got me with Grace when he convinced his boss to take a fire truck to school near the end of the summer,” Danny explained but by the looks on the team’s faces, he had to supply more. “He only recently came out to his parents last year. He used being new to the island as his excuse but now that he’s more settled, every time he called home it was the usual question. He got tired of it and in panic and desperation he blurted out he was seeing someone. When they asked for details…he picked me as his boyfriend.”
“And you’re just…going to go along with it?” Steve demanded, clearly not happy with this at all. He told himself he just hated blackmail on principle but more so when someone tried to blackmail someone on his team! Especially Danny!
“Like I said, he’s helped me look cool in front of Grace and her friends and the school. But a lie can get out of hand easily enough when not everyone is in the loop. His parents will probably want to do touristy things. I can probably use work as an excuse once or so but I’ll have to hang out with them and a lot of the places I can think of taking them are places you guys have shown me. So in case you see me around, holding hands or kissing a guy, I don’t want you getting the wrong idea or being confused or whatever. So…in here are the basics. Timeline, info about him, our ‘relationship’, etcetera. “
Steve slammed the file closed and pushed it away from himself. Standing up, he grabbed Danny’s arm and pulled him up too. “Walk with me.”
Danny didn’t have a choice and followed suit until they had some privacy. Steve not letting Danny go until they were in between the Camaro and his Silverado.
“What the hell, Danny?”
“I’m going to need you to be slightly more specific, Steven.”
“Why are you going on with this charade? I mean…are you really going to date this guy?”
“What? No! I’m just doing a friend a favor.”
“Doing a friend a favor is helping them move their stuff when they get a new place. It’s picking up their dry cleaning because they got too much stuff going on during the day and they need their suit for later in the evening. This is….he’s asking you to hold his hand and kiss him!”
“It’s just for a weekend, Steve. Not even a full weekend. I got work and Grace as an excuse as to why I can’t make it.” Seeing Steve start with a rebuttal, Danny continued first, “Which…will be an issue his parents will probably pick up on. They’ll note that I’m older, have been married and divorced, with a kid and a dangerous job with insane hours. A few weeks after they’re home he’ll call to tell them we broke up because the differences became too big. We’ve thought this out…so…please….if you see me out and about, just…go with it?”
Steve didn’t have any arguments to keep throwing at Danny. Not without having it thrown back in his face as to why it’s bothering him so much. His face probably looks like he’s bitten to the sourest of lemons. He storms back to the table, downs his beer just as Danny comes back and Kame sets his food in front of him.
Steve orders another beer and drinks it while he sulks and stares intently at Danny.
~~~~~~~~~~
The loud banging startled Danny from his sleep. He grabs the clock on the nightstand and tries to decipher the time until his vision adjusts and tells him it’s almost 3:30 in the morning. Nothing good ever came at late night calls like this. Though he checks his cell phone and it’s now fully charged but doesn’t have any missed calls or messages. Still, he grabs his gun as he makes his way to the door.
Looking through the peephole he sees it’s Steve. He doesn’t dare sigh in relief yet as he opens the door just as Steve was about to bang on it again.
“What? What’s going on!” Danny demanded as he tried to erase the remaining pull of sleep.
“You were willing to let people think you were dating a man.”
Danny stills and just stares at Steve. The other’s words registering in his mind but it does little to solve the confusion.
He opens the door wider so Steve could come and they could continue this, whatever this is, inside. Placing his gun down on the furniture near the door, he then rubs his face with both hands. As awake as he may now be, he was still very tired.
“It’s 3:30, Steven.”
“I know!” Steve was pacing back and forth like a caged animal.
Danny could see the cogs turning in his mind at a furious speed and now he was beginning to worry. But Steve’s never appeared to have had issues with same sex couples, so this had to be deeper…right? Danny couldn’t jump to conclusions. ”I was doing a friend a favor, Steve.”
At the reminder, Steve seemed to recoil. It at least stopped him in his tracks and gave Danny a heated look he didn’t know how to decipher.
“Weekend’s over now.”
“Steve, what is this about? Why couldn’t this have waited until morning?”
“I waited as long as I could! Don’t you think I tried? Someone actually called the police because they thought some crack head was trying to break in…”
“So…you’re in a mood. At my house. At 3:30 in the morning. Upset about my being bi?”
“No!” The insulted look made Danny feel somewhat better. If only because whatever fears began to grow about some internalized homophobia causing troubles for them…it wasn’t the right answer. “It’s not about you also liking men! It’s…you…”
“Me what?”
The coil that Steve seemed to have wound up caused him to finally spring into action. He pressed Danny against the door and kissed him! Actions always speaking louder than words and the last couple of days Steve couldn’t find any of the words he needed to convey his feelings to Danny.
The kiss was possessive and full of the jealousy he’s felt since he learned of Danny’s favor to his friend. When the need to breathe finally presented itself, he pulled back but just barely. Their breaths mingling as they panted to catch them.
Hey! Y’all like fics with Eddie Munson and dogs ? And funny miscommunication and dealing with having preconceived notions about a group of ppl despite knowing the group of ppl better it’s just hard to let go of learned behaviors ?!
Well then check out my fic on AO3 and yes it’s slow burn steddie ft oblivious Eddie (who doesn’t know he’s queer yet he just thinks it’s normal to crush on both Lita Ford and Ozzy Osborne .) and the best PTSD dog ever !
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