༄.°I LIKE IT WHEN WE KISS WITH THE TONGUE⭑.ᐟ
NOTE: Obsessed with the idea of partygirl!reader x Steve sooo here we go!
: ̗̀➛ CONTAINS: y/n used sorry, Making out, Parties, alcohol, blow job, lwk sub Steve I can't even lie, bold reader but also loser reader? read for context, party sex but not public, consent, Steve getting back in the game.
The music was bumping—bass so loud it rattled in his skull—as Steve leaned against the wall, nursing an unknown drink in a red Solo cup. It was a messy concoction of different alcohols. Tasted like shit, but it got the job done.
His eyes drifted over the scene around him: bodies packed together, people dancing, laughing, disappearing into shadowed corners to make out as the party surged on. Steve sighed, the sound swallowed whole by the obnoxiously loud music.
He hadn’t even wanted to be here. An old friend from high school—Trevor—had talked him into it. They weren’t really friends anymore; Steve had grown up, matured faster than most of them. Outgrown them, maybe. Still, he’d been stuck in a dry spell lately—nothing interesting, nothing new. No girls. No parties. No nights out. Nothing.
So when he’d run into Trevor at a gas station and gotten invited to Camila Castillo’s twenty-second birthday party, he’d said yes.
Desperately, of course.
And now, he was here. Loosely having small talk with old friends from high school before they moved on, and before he knew it, a new round of people would come up to say hi.
"Shit! Steve Harrington, surprised to see you here!" A voice yelled above the music. It was the old quarterback. "Oh, Hey Jackson. Nice to see ya!" Steve smiled awkwardly, shaking his hand. "Likewise! Haven't seen you out and about in ages. How come?!" He smiled. In his head, Steve rolled his eyes. Jackson was such a douche bag... Stupid, too.. More than himself.
"Oh yeah... I dunno man, work stuff. Not a lot of free time, you know how it is!" Steve replied dryly, trying his hardest to come off as easy going.
Jackson let out a loud laugh, clapping Steve on the shoulder a little too hard. “Yeah, yeah. Figures. Always figured you’d end up running some big company or something.” He took a swig of his drink, eyes flicking over Steve like he was still sizing him up for a play. Steve gave him a pursed smile, cringing to himself. He hadn't worked for a big company, not at even close. He had a small town job and lived in a shitty apartment, he was tired of living with his old man. “You still around Hawkins, then?”
Steve nodded, forcing another smile. “For now. Keeps pulling me back, I guess.” He glanced past Jackson’s shoulder, scanning the room for literally anyone else he could talk to—Tommy Hagan, a couple of cheerleaders, even his ex summer fling, Sarah Wilkerson.
“Well, hey,” Jackson said, leaning closer so Steve could hear him over the bass. “Good seeing you, man. We should catch up sometime. Like old times.”
“Yeah,” Steve replied automatically. “Totally.”
They exchanged a final, awkward nod before Jackson melted back into the crowd. Steve exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. High school reunions were a bad idea. He grabbed a cup from a passing tray, not even caring what was in it, and took a sip.
Across the room, someone laughed—a sound he didn’t recognize—and for the first time that night, Steve felt something shift. Maybe this reunion wouldn’t be entirely unbearable after all.
He looked to the source of the sound, not being able to find it.. until...
"Steve??"
He finally locked eyes with you, and his jaw dropped.
It was you. Y/n L/n, one of Barb's friends. Back in the day, he had heard about you threw Nancy, but even you weren't too close to her- you weren't close with anybody back then.
Steve didn't know much about you. Not then, and certainly not now. He was surprised to see you. Back in high school, you were known to be quiet. A drifter. You weren't made fun of, but you weren't popular either. You kind of just existed.
Well, when Steve fell out of the party scene, you fell in. He just so happened to miss it.
You had become friends with Ronnie Greenfield in your senior year. Ronnie was on the soccer team, a more fit and muscled girl. Even with her more tomboyish nature, she was best friends with the captain of the cheer team and popular with the guys, so when she heard that some idiot on the football team was throwing a party, she just had to invite you.
When it happened, you were surprised. It was like a brand new door had opened for you... A secret third option.
To sum up a long, long story... You ended up getting blasted, dancing on some table and helping with a keg stand later on. You don't remember it at all, in all honesty... But the people there did, and suddenly you were a party sensation. Ronnie invited you to every party after that, and then so did Francine Woodland, then it was Gabe Dipnicky. You spread through the party scene like a disease, showing people how to have a good time, getting white girl wasted, and dancing the night away like there would be no tomorrow.
"Holy shit, Y/n?!" Steve exclaimed loudly over the music. You laughed, bending forward slightly as you braced yourself on his forearm. "I can't believe you're here-- I mean, wow!" He laughed, smiling down at you all pretty and surprised.
"I could say the same thing to you! Thought you left the party life, Harrington!" You reply, sipping your own drink. Your hair was done in a classic 80's blow out, tight sweater and awfully short denim skirt hugging your figure as your sneakers seemed to have alcohol dripped onto them from god knows what or when. Steve drank you in, not used to you looking so.. dolled up.
The latest hip-hop and R&B hits thumped loudly through the large home, bass humming through the walls as he finally replied. “I—ahah… yeah, guilty.”
He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck and nodding along as you shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips while you reassured him. “It’s alright. There’s nothing wrong with living a quiet life.”
Psh. Yeah…
His life was anything but quiet. Chaos hid beneath the polished floors and expensive speakers, tucked neatly behind laughter and casual conversations. That wasn’t something you could know, though—monsters and everything.
“A—and what about you?” he asked after a beat, the music filling the brief silence. “You used to live the quiet life…”
You laughed bashfully at that, the sound softer than the song playing behind you. Your gaze drifted away as if the answer were written somewhere on the wall, then you looked back at him, shrugging lightly.
“People realized I was a damn good partier I guess...” you said, thoughtful now. “Things change.”
Your voice carried something unspoken—nostalgia, maybe, or a story you hadn’t decided whether to tell yet. The music continued to play on, loud and lively, a sharp contrast to the momentary stillness that settled between you both. It was life things flipped between the two of you. Now, if anything, he was the dorky loser with no inherently fun things happening in his life.
"You uh.. You look kind of sick of being down here." You pointed out, a knowing smirk on your face as you looked up at him through your lashes. He gulped. He may not be a party animal anymore, but he certainty wasn't dumb... That was a line he knew well: One he used.
"Yeah?" He chuckled, watching as your face lit up in a cheeky giggle. "You know I like, invented that, right?" He teased. "Invented what?" you played a look and tone of innocence.
"That line, L/n."
"Yeah, well..." You look down again, but this time not away from him. This time: You were sizing him up. Now, it was your turn to drink in the sight of him. His stupid striped polo, tight jeans, beat up white sneakers... He looked bigger, more stocky than he was back then. Like a man. "I guess I can't help it... You look good, Steve."
The compliment hits him like a truck. It was different when people hinted at attraction, used cheesy pick up lines and what not. But when a girl alone was coming onto him? Straight forward, confident, bold? Steve could feel his control drifting away with each passing second.
He suddenly glanced towards the stairs, the ones that were home to only a few stragglers who were either passed out or on the verge of passing out that night. Mischievous thoughts flooded his mind as he looked back at you, your head tilted and doe eyes searching his own.
He licked his lips, smirking down at you as he took a sip of his drink. "And what exactly are you implying, pretty?" He asked after swallowing, fingers drumming against the red plastic.
That nickname was enough for you.
Maybe it was your lack of action recently, or the few drinks you had in your system.. But you laced your fingers with Steve's and gave him a hungry smile, biting your lip as you casually lead him to the stairs. You had both sat your drinks down on a nearby side table before you reached the banister of the stairs. You stopped before the first step, Steve towering over you as the world seemed to dull around you both. "Y'really think I'm pretty?" You asked. He smiled, a confirmation, a gesture of approval to the unspoken question that you had implied to.
"Yeah, real pretty."
That was enough for you.
You didn't reply, just smiled and led him upstairs. A few people's eyes lingered on the two of you as you disappeared down the hallway, but it didn't stick. Everyone was too busy being drunk and messing with each other to focus on either one of you.
The music grew more muffled and quiet the further you travelled down the hall, and eventually Steve found himself outside of a closed door you brought him to.
"It's a guest bedroom.. Pretty nice, I've stayed in it a few times." You let him know, back pressed against the door as you look up at him. Steve looks down at you, eyes searching yours. For what? He wasn't entirely sure... Probably a few things, but he knew it didn't matter. Not now, not anymore. All he knew was that he wanted to be with you.
It was strange to him, really. For the longest time, you hadn't existed to him. Maybe that sounds rude, but it's the truth. You were Barbs friend, the girl Nancy had Algebra with. He heard you were nice, sweet. He had supposed, in this moment, that he would find out--wouldn't he?
"You sure?"
Your soft voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he couldn't help but smile after registering your question. His large hands on your waist was what caused you to slowly open the door, walking backwards into the room as the two of you switched: Now his back was turned.
You smoothed your hands up his chest as you lean forward. Steve meets you half way: of course he does. You lips connect in a way you can't describe. You didn't typically hook up with people at parties, instead you were busy being the life of it downstairs with all your friends while being a plethora of drinks in. Tonight, however? You had only two and half, and while you may have felt a little buzzed, you were nowhere near drunk. At least, drunk enough to not know what you were doing. What you wanted.
Steve was in the same boat. Except, he had cut back on drinking in general and that one drink he held when you came up to him was his first and last of the month. He knew what he wanted as well. He knew it the minute you looked up at him like you knew him, like he was some old friend. Perhaps you were just that welcoming... Perhaps it was something old deep inside of him coming back to life... Like an old flame.
It didn't matter. Not now.
It didn't matter, because right now all he was focused on was the way your lips fit with his oh so perfectly. You were eager, but not desperate. The sound of soft hums and lips smacking against each other filled the room, muffled music quiet and unregistered. You couldn't help but focus intently on the little sounds that came from the man you were currently pressed against, slowly pushing him back towards the queen sized bed behind him, nicely made. Comforter soft.
Your tongues danced with each other, the taste of him igniting a fire in you that you hadn't expecting. You had heard countless stories about Steve, both from Nancy and other girls he had hooked up with in the previous years. You honestly had a hunch that some of them were chalked up to be more than they were.. But now? Since you were kissing him and listening to him moan into your mouth ever so softly? You believed more than ever.
He sits as the back of his knees hit the mattress, and for a moment, he finally gets to look at you after you first shared a kiss.. Really look.
His hands slide up from your hips to your waist, fingers splayed across your skin as he had slid them under your top. You smooth your hands down his arms and smile down at him, looking into those doe eyes as you read him like a damn book.
Nothing needs to be said. You climb into his lap and gently guide him backwards until his back hits the mattress. You instantly attach yourself to his neck: pressing butterfly kisses to every small freckle and mole you could see in the dark room, only dimly lit by a small lamp with a stained glass shade on the desk across the bedroom. The curtains were closed, the door was locked.
It was just you and Steve.
He let out a soft moan, though it was truly louder than he head meant it to be. He couldn't stop himself from squirming ever so slightly beneath you as you suck small marks onto his collar and the nape of his neck. You swear that you can feel his pulse beneath the skin you kissed. And Steve swore you could hear his heart beat.
You trailed down his body, taking in the way his clothes felt on your palms before stopping at his belt.
He's looking down at you, now propped up on his elbows. He swallows, the sight of you hovering above the aching erection he had since you opened the door to the room sending chills up his spine. "You.. I- you don't have to.." He started quietly, almost feeling guilty. He didn't know why, because truthfully? He wanted it. Wanted you.
"Shh.." You hush, giggling softly at the sincerity in his tone. You watch as his brows falter slightly at your interruption, but you note the way his chest rises and falls a bit faster as your fingers undo the belt that stood between you and him. "Relax, Harrington.. unless.. you don't want it?" You teased. You knew that was bullshit, of course: only said it in the first place so you could see the way panic flashed in his expression.
"What? No, nonono.. I do, swear-" He pleaded, and god did you find it adorable. He was just so pretty like this.. You made sure to tell him that. "Yeah?" You continue to take part of the leather out of the loop that held it after pausing earlier. "Yeah- want it.."
You giggle softly to yourself, eyes falling to the scene before you. The first thing in your mind is how tight his pants must feel. So, you unzip his jeans and gently drag them down his thighs, just enough to free him slightly. You marvel at his size, the light grey briefs leaving nothing to your imagination.
Steve's voice comes out ungodly high pitched, at least compared to his normal tone. "Oh fuck, yer' so pretty.." He whimpers out in surprise. All you do is hum as a reply, using the tip of your pointer finger to tease at the wet spot right on top of his slit. He was practically dripping with precum at this point.
"Aww, look at you, Stevie!" You tease, laughing gently before biting your lip in a mix of anticipation and curiosity. You fingers wrap around his shaft as you pull his cock upward, the feeling of fabric pressing against his tip the more you propped him up the more he had to fight the twitching in his hips.
You tested something, squeezing him at the base and watching where his tip poked through the fabric. He was girthy, that's for sure. Not only that, but he was a nice and healthy length.. Not too huge, but probably borderline. You smirk as more precum oozes out into the fabric, the dark patch only expanding at this point.
Leaning forward, you wrap your lips around him, the warmth drawing a shocked gasp from his lips. "holy shit- c'mon.." He begged, writhing his hips up gently. He wanted nothing more but to feel your mouth on him directly. To feel the back of your throat as you sucked his dick, watch as spit and precum mixed and dripped all over. "Please just- I need..! Oh fuck-"
Steve had to stop talking, cuz the feeling of your tongue through the fabric and the gentle sucking you started to do drove him nuts. While he wanted more, he'd be a damn liar if he said this wasn't fuckin' phenomenal. He slowly let his head fall back, resting against a firm pillow as he ran his hands up his face. His thighs spread, giving you more room as you continued to tease him with your mouth. As much as he hated to admit it, if you kept that up, he could probably cum from this alone.
You let out a half suppressed laugh, finally pulling off him. "What's the matter? What do ya want, hm?" your voices creeps through the air like honey, and Steve can hardly muster up the strength to look at you. "Y'mouth.. please? You're driving me nuts.." You giggle in response to his desperation, but give him what he asks for none the less.
You watch as his dick bounces free when you finally pull his waistband down all the way. You had gone slow, teasing him as he waited in anticipation. You wasted no more time, and took his shaft in your hand so you could hold him up to your mouth.
You leaned down, licking a slow, long stripe up his cock from base to tip. He's warm, and you can feel every small detail of him--every vein. He lets out a sigh of relief when you wrap your lips around his head and swirl your tongue around, focusing on the underside and slit first before lowering your head down further.
"Hhohh shit.." He whimpers through his teeth, hand sliding down his body and finally resting on top of your head. He's gentle, doesn't push you down. He leaves the pace and everything else up to you, he just needed to have his hand there. It was grounding, made him feel closer to you.
You hum softly against him as you set a nice and steady pace, slurping up any precum that mixed with your saliva. Sliding a hand up his thigh and cupping his balls as you wrap your fingers gently around his base to keep him nice and straight.
You look up through your lashes at him, and you feel yourself grow wetter at the sight of this man. He's angelic, both in the way he looks and the way he sounds. "That's it, oh.. thank you, thank you.."
His voice nearly puts you in a trance as he whines and moans all because of you. He feels his tip hitting the back of your throat more and more the faster you bob your head, sucking him down harder in the most delicious way.
And he revels in it. He thrives.
Steve had been craving this attention for so long, poor baby... and he was being so considerate, so polite. He didn't buck his hips at first, in fear of going too deep. He would feel bad if you gagged around him, because at the end of the day he wanted you to be comfortable too. He wanted you to have fun, enjoy it. And how enjoyable would sucking dick be if he was constantly going in too deep?
He fought every urge to guide your head. He held back, letting you take control. He told himself it was only because I didn't want to be overbearing or rude, but that wasn't true. He like it. He like the feeling of a woman having control over him.. Always did. However, it wasn't something he often experienced... Especially back then, he was always too afraid because he knew he had a reputation to... uphold.
Now, though: he didn't care. He couldn't give two fucks. He was relishing in the feeling of being under your control and command. Steve did nothing but moan and writhe beneath you as he twitched more and more in your mouth, the feeling of you swallowing down his cock overwhelming.
"Mmh.. Shit..- Ah, m'close.." He gently warned, smoothing down your hair with the hand he had on your head. His moans picked up and grew more desperate. "hhm..! Close, m'getting really close..!"
You moan around him cheekily, speeding up and swirling your tongue around him as you message the rest of his lower half lovingly. Your hips swayed from side to side as you arched slightly, body begging for more. You could feel how wet you are, knew that your panties were beyond soaked.
"Hah-- fuck, fuck I'm gonna.. m'cumming..!"
One moan after the other filled the room as the vibrations from your noises sent him over the edge. He gasped, sitting up on his elbows again and finally bucking slightly into your mouth, body jerking as he finally blew his load down your throat.
He was panting, whimpering and praising you. 'thank you' left his mouth every few words, you couldn't help but find him cuter and cuter with every passing second.
And you swallowed every last drop. You made sure of it.
