ava

god i love matty healy & Pedro pascal

[xoxave]

actually don’t fucking play with me right now

[o528s]

i need steve to literally treat me like im stupid omfgfgf <3 especially when high ughh

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you’re spread out on his lap on the couch in his room, legs dangling over the armrest, one of his big hands resting casually high. the other is holding the half-burned joint between two fingers, taking slow pulls while he eyes you.

your skirt’s ridden up. you know it has. you can feel the cool air on the tops of your thighs but you don’t fix it. you just squirm instead, hips shifting, chasing a pressure that isn’t there yet.

“stevie,” you mumble

“yeah baby?” he exhales smoke away from your face, “what’s got y’so fidgety?”

you bite your lip. words feel slippery but you try anyway, “feel… funny.”

he chuckles, thumb stroking lazy circles on your skin, inching higher but not high enough.

“funny huuh, how?” he asks, voice patronizing in the best way. “use your big-girl words f’me, honey. c’monnn.”

your cheeks burn. you hide your face against his neck, breathing in the warm skin there, lips brushing his pulse. “don’ wanna say it.”

“ohhh,” he draws the sound out, teasing. “my dumb little baby doesn’t know how to ask for what she needs?” he taps your cheek lightly with two fingers, making you peek up at him. “that’s okay. stevie knows. stevie always knows what his pretty girl wants even when she’s too stupid to say it.”

you whine. it slips out before you can stop it.

he grins, all teeth and pretty smile lines while stubs the joint out in the ashtray on the coffee table, then cups your jaw, thumb pressing into the soft part under your bottom lip until your mouth parts on instinct.

“open wider, baby aaaah.”

he gathers saliva slow, lets you watch, then lets it drip from his tongue onto yours in a thick, warm string. you moan around it without meaning to, thighs squeezing together, “that’s my girl,” he murmurs.

his hand cracks across your cheek, enough to make your eyes water and your cunt clench. the sound is loud in the quiet room. you gasp, startled, then melt immediately after.

“aw honey,” he coos, thumb smoothing over the warm spot he just left. “my baby likes when her head gets all fuzzy huh”

another slap, opposite cheek this time. your head tips with it, lips parted, already drooling a little.

“say thank you,” he tells you sweetly.

“th-thank you, stevie,” you whisper, voice trembling.

he kisses you then slow, filthy, licking into your mouth like he’s tasting the joint and his spit and how gone you are. when he pulls back there’s a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. he breaks it with his thumb and smears it across your cheek.

“gonna let me see that pretty cunt now?” he asks, “or are you gonna keep being shy and make me do all the work?”

you shake your head fast. “please.”

“please what, baby?”

your hips buck uselessly. “steveee! please touch me”

“where?” he slides his palm up your thigh, stops just before the damp cotton of your panties. “here?” he presses the heel of his hand against your mound, not moving, just letting you feel the pressure. “or…” his fingers dip lower, tracing the seam of your cunt through the fabric. “right here?”

you whine, high-pitched and pathetic, nodding so fast it makes you dizzy.

he tuts. “words, honey. even dumb little girls can say ‘my pussy’.”

your face flames. “my… your pussy, stevie. please touch your pussy.”

he groans low in his throat like you’ve just said the sweetest thing in the world.

“mm y’so fuckin’ sexy”, he doesn’t pull your panties down. just hooks the fabric to the side with two fingers and stares for a long second at how wet you are, glistening, swollen, clit peeking out.

“jesus christ,” he mutters, almost to himself. “look at this messy little thing. all this just from me talking to you like you’re stupid?”

you nod while he spits directly onto your clit, once, twice, then smears it with the pads of his fingers in slow, maddening circles. not fast. not rough. just enough to make you shake.

“shhh,” he soothes when you start to cry out. “i know i know, baby but you can take it yeah?”

“a-ahh mhmm y-yes-”

another light slap to your cheek. “yes what?”

“yes, stevie.” he smiles, soft and proud, and pushes two fingers inside you so deep so easily, because you’re so wet. you arch, mouth falling open on a broken moan.

“there we go,” he murmurs, curling them just right. “that’s it. let me fuck the last few brain cells outta that pretty head.”

he keeps the same slow rhythm, fingers stroking, thumb circling your clit, free hand coming up every so often to deliver another stinging slap to your cheek or to tip your chin back so he can spit into your open mouth again.

you cum like that; dumb, drooling, cheeks pink and stinging, his fingers buried to the knuckle and his voice in your ear telling you what a good, stupid little slut you are for him.

[matchpointfaist]

sex ↬↬ steve harrington 

synopsis: you’d been dating jonathan byers on and off since sophomore year, and now, a year after graduation, you can’t help but notice the way his eyes constantly drift to nancy wheeler. you don’t have much time to be angry, though, because steve is there to make it all better.

warnings: smut, angsty reader briefly, cheating mentions, this is not jonathan slander and none will be tolerated, steve needs it bad, no condom, oral f receiving, car sex

“you’re such an idiot, jonathan,” it was a common sentence uttered from your lips lately, “you don’t even know what we’re arguing about!”

“you’re right, i don’t!” there was a frustrated whine to his voice, as he raked his hands through his hair, “i would never cheat on you-“

“i know you wouldn’t,” you huffed, “i’m not accusing you of doing anything. i’m accusing you of having feelings for someone else, and thinking i’m too stupid to notice!”

“come on, please,” he threw his head back, sighing, “nancy is just a friend, she was there for me a lot with everything with will. it’s not like that, i wouldn’t do that.”

“i told you i know that,” you shook your head, “but i’m not gonna hold you back from what you clearly want, okay? you’re free to do whatever with whoever you please.”

“wait- are you dumping me?” for a moment, you saw a flush of hurt across his face, but it seemed swallowed by an uneasy relief, “babe, come on. seriously.”

“let’s just take a break,” you suggested, not for the first time in your tumultuous relationship, “you can think about what you really want, and i’ll do the same, okay? it’s fine, jonathan, honestly. i’m not angry at you, i just want to figure this out.”

“yeah, okay. fine,” he let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly, “if that’s what you want.”

“it is,” you murmured, “we’ll talk in a couple weeks, okay? i think this’ll be good for both of us. you know i don’t want you to be hurt.”

“yeah, i know,” you could tell he meant it, “see you in 2 weeks, then?”

“2 weeks,” you smiled faintly, “see you then.” it was an odd feeling, the resolution, the relief. you loved jonathan, in a way. he’d been there through so much, even just as a friend, and you wanted nothing but the best for him, even if that best was nancy wheeler. he’d do the same for you, you told yourself, the words assuring you of your decision as you drove home.

what you didn’t expect, though, was to see them together the very next day as you strolled through town, on your way to return books to the library. she was laughing, her face bright in the way it only was around him, and he looked so at ease, so happy, smiling down at her in that shy way he did. they looked good together, you thought. great, even, like it was natural. it had never come that easy for the two of you. you shook the thoughts from your mind, sliding the books into their return slot and turning on your heel, heading back toward your house. as you rounded the street corner, you collided with a wall. no, not a wall, a chest, though it was firm and strong- you looked up, and there was steve harrington, a lopsided grin on his lips and a stray curl on his forehead.

“woah, there,” he laughed, one hand on your shoulder, steadying you, “you alright?”

“fine,” you nodded quickly, unsure why your skin felt so hot beneath his palm, “sorry, i was totally in my own world.”

“don’t worry about it,” he shook his head, letting his touch linger, “you’re y/n, right? byers girlfriend?”

you tried not to be irritated by the association; “yeah. we had science together senior year.”

“oh, i remember,” he laughed again, warm and rich, “you’re like, a complete genius. i would’ve failed if i didn’t get to peak over your shoulder at your notes.”

“you did not!” you gasped, swatting his arm, “that’s awful, steve! i didn’t know i was an accomplice in your cheating.”

“oh, relax. that was forever ago,” he grinned, “what’re you doing out? i saw byers earlier, but he was with nancy.”

you bristled slightly, “i just had to return some books. i wasn’t meeting jonathan.”

“he’s not screwing around on you, is he?” he suddenly looked serious, stern, “i’ll go talk some sense into him, if he is. you just say the word.”

“no, steve, it’s fine,” you shook your head, almost smiling at his sincerity, hesitating before slowly explaining the situation, this break arrangement, jonathan’s infatuation.

“sounds like he is screwing around,” steve said when you were finished, eyeing you cautiously, like he was worried, “but you sound like you don’t care. why not just break up with him?”

“i want him to see this is the right thing,” you shrugged, “it’s complicated, i guess. i’m really not upset, though. you can stop looking at me like that.”

he put his hands up in mock surrender, eyes sparkling, “hey, i wasn’t looking at you like anything. i do have an idea, though.”

“what’s that?” you eyed him suspiciously.

“let me take you out,” he suggested, almost casually, “i mean, if byers gets to run around with nance. it’s only fair, don’t you think?”

“are you flirting with me, steve harrington?” you gasped dramatically, grinning.

“come on, now. who wouldn’t flirt with you?” his voice was softer, sincere, cutting right through the careless charade you’d put on. so, fine, okay. you’d go on a date with steve harrington.

steve, it turns out, was endlessly charming. you knew he could flirt, had seen it time and time again in high school, witnessed the trail of girls he left in his wake, always swooning and swearing he was some sort of god. what you didn’t expect, though, was to become one of those girls yourself, giggling and sharing a milkshake with him, hanging off his every word like it was gospel. it had been a long time since you’d been so relaxed, had such easy fun, let someone charm you. a small part of you felt guilty; it had only been one day, after all. but then you remembered the way jonathan and nancy had looked together, and the months on end that you’d spent with one foot out the door. it hadn’t just been a day, not really. it had been nearly a year of halfhearted affection and forced loyalty. so you pushed it all down, focusing on steve, which felt like the easiest thing in the world when he was so focused on you in return.

“you really are beautiful,” steve’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you blinked, slightly startled, “i mean, you were pretty in school, obviously. but you’re gorgeous now.”

“oh,” you flushed, down to your bones, “thank you. i look the same, though, really-“

“don’t do that,” he tsk’d, “let me tell a beautiful girl that she’s beautiful, yeah?” and then he reached across the table, brushing a lock of hair from your face, gentle as anything, “i get why byers was always following you around with that camera. i wish i had one right now.”

you’d never been the spontaneous type. you were methodical, an overthinker, precise and considerate. you weren’t sure, despite all of this, what possessed you to lean over the table and kiss steve harrington. maybe it was the lighting, maybe the way his eyes shined when he looked at you, the way his fingers toyed with the strand of hair as he tucked it behind your ear. you could tell yourself any number of things, but you knew it was only that it was him, that he liked you, that you liked him, that it felt natural, just as it did for nancy and jonathan.

he kissed you back the same way he did everything, easy and sure, right in a way you couldn’t fake. his hand settled on your cheek, cupping your face, pulling you closer despite the diners other occupants. his tongue slid across your bottom lip, and you had to pull away, cheeks hot and lips shining.

“we shouldn’t-“ left your lips, just as he said, “my cars right outside.”

he paid the bill in cash, leaving an excellent tip and pulling you out of the diner in a flurry of movement.

“let me take you somewhere,” he pulled the passenger door open for you, waiting until your legs were tucked safely inside before closing it, sliding across the hood as he went around to his side.

“like where?” you were still buzzing from the kiss, watching his every move, hungry for him.

“just trust me,” shockingly, you found that you did.

his hand settled on your thigh across the console as he drove, the fingers of his free hand tapping the steering wheel along to the music playing quietly from his radio. you drank in the sight of his jawline as he rolled a toothpick from the diner between his teeth, the way the skin of his neck tightened with each motion, his biceps straining against his cotton tee.

“i love this song,” he murmured, i’m on fire by bruce springsteen playing through his speakers. then, something you thought you’d never see; steve harrington was singing along, low in his chest, his thumb rubbing circles on your thigh. “tell me now, baby, is he good to you?” his eyes darted between you and the road, “can he do to you the things that i do?”

there was the unmistakable warmth of wanting, coiled in your stomach, making you shift in the seat of his beamer. the words, the intimacy of the moment, the rasp of his voice, they all washed over you, settled low between your thighs. finally, when you thought it would never ebb, he pulled off onto a side road, driving to the edge of a steep overlook, his car alone with the trees and grassy knolls. beneath you, hawkins was merely a blur of buildings and streetlights.

“this is beautiful,” you said, in awe.

“you’re beautiful,” he was perhaps even more awestruck than you.

you leaned over the console, kissing him again, so grateful for this moment with him. he was rougher now that you were alone, nipping at your bottom lip, hungry and uncaring if it was too fast. it went on for what felt like hours, the slow drag of his mouth against yours, his hands wandering over your body, not yet daring to sneak beneath your clothes. finally, when the wanting was too much, you were awkwardly fumbling into the backseat, giggling breathlessly as you fell into him.

“can i?” he asked, ever the gentleman as he pulled at the hem of your top, eyes shiny and pleading.

“yes, yes of course,” you nodded quickly, helping him free you from it, then pulling off his own. gradually, between kisses, you managed to shed the rest of your clothes, until you were bare except for your underwear.

“you are so beautiful,” he sounded like he was in pain, almost, or in love. you couldn’t tell in the dark, “let me taste you, please.”

you could’ve died and gone to heaven as he slid to his knees in the floorboard, parting your thighs, pushing your slick underwear aside and burying his face between your legs.

“oh my god, steve,” you gasped, hand migrating to his mess of curls, tugging lightly as he lapped at your core, his nose brushing your clit deliciously. he was like a man possessed, right in his element as he watched your reactions, eyes dark with lust. you were practically grinding against his face, eyes rolled back, back arched off the seat.

“please,” you mewled, “fuck, i’m so close. you’re so good, steve.” he was spurred on by your praise, groaning into you, the sound vibrating against your flushed skin. his tongue dipped into you, and you fell apart all at once, fingers tight in his hair, thighs threatening to clamp closed around him.

“so good,” he exhaled as he pulled away, his lips shiny with your slick, “you taste so fucking good.” he perched back over you, kissing you hard and hot, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. you pulled at him, hands on his shoulders, hungry for more, always more.

“please,” you panted between messy kisses, reaching between your bodies, cupping his bulge, nearly moaning at the size and weight of him, “need you to fuck me.”

“yeah?” he grinned at that, cocky as ever, “i can manage that.” he pulled his boxers off with one hand, his other woven through your hair, pulling your head aside to leave your neck open for him to kiss and bite at. you gasped as you felt his tip against your dripping core, teasing your hole, sliding against your puffy clit.

“you’re so wet, baby,” his voice was deeper, raspier, than before, “i don’t have a condom, ‘s that okay?”

“it’s fine,” you nodded quickly, “on the pill.”

he didn’t need anymore encouragement. with that, he pressed into you, agonizingly slow, stretching your walls further with each inch.

“oh, fuck,” you gripped his shoulders tightly, wincing at the burn of the stretch, “you’re so big.”

“you’re almost there,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, one hand parting your thighs further, watching as he slid into you.

finally, he bottomed out inside of you, filling you deeper than you ever had been before. you were delirious with the feeling of him, of the way it ached, the way you knew you’d feel him for days after.

“atta girl,” he hissed out, twitching inside you, “can i move now? are you okay?”

“please,” you nodded immediately, “i can take it.” and take it, you did.

he pulled out of you fully before bottoming out once more, stealing all the air from your lungs, drawing a gasp from your lips. one hand made a home on your waist, the other gripping the seat above you, steadying himself effortlessly. you were a mess beneath him in an instant, undoubtedly soaking the car seat beneath you, lewd wet sounds filling the small space.

“you feel so good,” he praised, voice shaking, “fucking perfect, sucking me in. you needed this, didn’t you, baby?”

“mhm!” your jaw was slack as his tip brushed that spot deep within your walls, “needed it so bad, stevie, fuck. you’re so good, so big.”

“knew you did,” he murmured, “did he take care of you? hm? did he take you like this, or could i easily fill his shoes?”

“never like this,” you mewled, “nobody’s ever- nngh, nobody’s felt like this.”

“fuck,” he dropped his head down to kiss you again, messy, spit slicking your chin as he licked into your open mouth greedily. he pounded into you, the car shaking, your thighs trembling right along with it. you squeezed around him as his thumb came down to circle your clit, your back arching from the seat, chest pressing against his.

“come on, baby,” he encouraged, pulling away to kiss your jaw, then trailing down to your throat, “cum on my cock, please? i’m so close, wanna feel you let go.”

“i’m- fuck, oh my god,” you were lost for words, gasping as you came undone, walls spasming around him, shaking in his arms.

“there you go,” he groaned, “oh, fuck, you’re so tight. where d’you want it, baby? hurry.”

“inside,” you whined, hating the idea of him wasting it anywhere else, “it’s okay, please, just want it.”

he kissed you again, slow and tender, as he spilled inside you, warmth flooding your walls, and you shuddered at the feeling, an intimacy you’d never shared even with jonathan.

“my god,” he panted, pulling out slowly, chest heaving, “that was- you’re incredible. you’re okay, right?”

“mhm,” you nodded, blissed out, eyes barely open, but greedily drinking in the sight of him in the afterglow, “perfect, stevie.”

“i like that,” he grinned sheepishly, “stevie. nobody calls me that.”

“that’ll be your new nickname, then,” you murmured fondly, sitting up and wincing at the ache between your thighs, already, “can you help me find my clothes?”

he laughed slightly as he nodded, handing you your ruffled clothes, pulling his own wrinkled tee over his head. after you were both redressed, he just sat there for a moment, looking over at you.

“is this gonna happen again?” he asked softly, almost hesitantly, “or is it over when the breaks over?”

“it was never just going to a break,” you said after a beat, “i’d really like to see you again. maybe not in the back of your car next time, though?”

“i’ll take you wherever you want,” he smiled, “as long as you agree to see me again.”

“you can’t keep me away,” you grinned, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “who knew you were such a romantic, stevie?”

“what can i say?” he hummed, “you brought it out of me.”

[andrewgarfieldlovr]

the only thing that gets me through the day

[sunny-draws-things]

GUYS PIRATING IS BAD.

DO NOT PIRATE ANYTHING. NOT SHOWS/MOVIES. NOT GAMES OR SAFER GAMES. AND CERTAINLY NOT BOOKS. AND DO NOT DOWNLOAD YOUTUBE VIDEOS. AND NEVER EVER EVER WATCH MUSICALS WITHOUT GOING TO THEM AND DONT USE ADBLOCKERS/OTHER ADBLOCKER TO AVOID ADS AND VIRUSES PIRATING IS VERY HARMFUL TO THE CORPORATIONS WHO WORKS VERY HARD TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF PEOPLE AND THEIR MONEY. ANYONE WHO PIRATES IS BAD. BAD PIRATING. EVIL. OH AND THIS

[magsgren]

cigarettes before sex

pairing: steve harrington x fem!oc (jade grady)

summary: a few weeks after they hooked up in his car for the first time, steve calls jade over when he’s home alone, desperate to feel that good again.

time setting: early 1985, between season 2 & 3

warnings: ‘enemies’ with benefits, smut, swearing, smoking, unprotected pinv, creampie, steve calls her ‘sweetheart’, jackson is jade’s younger brother, mentions of nancy and steve’s past relationship, making out, dry humping, soft steve, third person perspective.

word count: 3k

a/n: first one shot in the static universe. these two mean soo much to me. (if you have not, check out ‘static’ on wattpad ☻︎ but it is not necessary to have read that to enjoy this!)

.⋆♱ masterlist || static on wattpad

Steve hates his house with a burning passion when his parents are gone, not that he really likes it when they’re here either. It’s not quieter, because even when they are home, they’re never loud. It’s just hollow and every inch of movement seems to echo and the hum of the refrigerator seems to carry further.

He lies flat on his back on top of his comforter, staring up at the faint hairline crack jagging out from the light fitting on the ceiling above his bed.

He’s been trying, and failing, not to think about calling her for the past twenty minutes.

The phone on his bedside table feels much heavier than usual when he finally gathers the balls to pick it up. He dials her number from memory, listening to each ring like it might change its mind and disconnect for him.

She answers on the fourth ring.

“What?” Jade’s voice is low and uninterested.

His eyes flick to his clock, wondering if maybe he’s woken her up, or if she’s been busy with something else. “You busy?” He asks, forcing his tone to sound casual.

There’s a faint thud on her end and he can only presume it’s her resting against the trailer’s hallway wall as she prepares to talk to him. “Depends.” She answers.

He sits up slowly, kicking his legs off his bed, “My parents are gone.” He doesn’t elaborate, it’s not needed.

The line stays quiet for a beat longer than expected before Jade sighs, “That’s nice, Harrington. What do you want me to do about that?”

Leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees, Steve lets his head hang and a few strands of his hair brush his brows, “I thought you could come over.”

The invite sits in the air between them.

“Are you calling because you’re bored,” She says lightly but he hears how her tone becomes teasing as she continues, “or because you miss me?”

He exhaled through his nose, eyes burning holes into his carpet, “Don’t push it.”

She hums in satisfaction because his lack of denial is an answer enough. God, when they first started this, he wouldn’t spluttered a thousand reasons why he’d never miss her.

“Are you expecting me to crawl through your window?” She asks, “Or will I be able to use the front door like a civilised individual?”

“You make me climb through your window, Grady,” He grumbles, dragging his hand down his face to act as though his heart isn’t thudding against his chest with anticipation, “Yeah, use the front door.” He huffs, “How you gonna get over here? Need me to pick you up?”

“I’ll be there when I’m there.” She hangs up without another word.

___

Steve waits by the living room window longer than he’d ever care to admit.

The tree-lined street outside is dark, lit only by spaced-out lampposts and the occasional sweep of passing headlights. The Harrington household sits pristine and symmetrical in the middle of the block, sat back from the sidewalk with a driveway leading up to the door.

When he sees her walking up the sidewalk, his chest tightens. She moves with that loose confidence, boots quiet against the concrete before she turns towards his house.

He opens the door before she’s even able to knock.

Jade stands on his doorstep beneath the soft glow of the overhead light, her hands tucked into the pockets of a leather jacket. Her un-styled hair falls loose over one shoulder, slightly wind-tousled from the walk over.

There’s something about her in the quiet suburban setting of his neighbourhood that feels out of place. She’s been here before, the night Barb disappeared. But this is so different. This time she’s not here to mediate and supply weed, instead she’s here because he wants her to be.

She rocks back and forth on her heels, “So… you gonna stare at me all night?” She asks.

“Did you seriously walk over here?” He questions, stepping aside to let her in.

“Told you before, I like walking.”

The door shuts behind her with a soft click, sealing them inside the stillness of the huge house. She glances around automatically, taking more time than she did previously to study the interior. Her eyes scan the framed photos along the wall, the shining polished bannister. It smells of lemon cleaner that never quite fades. Everything looks so staged.

“They’re really gone?” She asks, gaze drifting over a shoe rack where a few pairs are balancing.

“Chicago,” He confirms, “Some conference thing.”

She nods once in satisfaction.

The two of them move upstairs without discussion, their footsteps muted against the cream carpet. Steve’s bedroom door shuts behind them. His room feels slightly warmer, more lived-in compared to the entrance hallway. There’s a few framed landscapes on the wall, clothes draped over the back of his desk chair and odd decorations scattered across the dresser. The faint scent of cologne lingers in the air like it was sprayed last minute. The lamp upon his desk offers the only source of light, though its warm glow is enough to illuminate the room comfortably.

Jade shrugs off her jacket and drapes it over the desk chair without asking. She moves around the space with careful ease, head tilted as she reads the titles of the few books on his shelf and examines the records piled beside a player.

“Are you always this tidy?” She asks. A very small part of her feels slightly embarrassed because the first time Steve came into her room, it looked like a war zone, as it always does.

“My mom is,” He shrugs.

She hums softly and her hand ventures into the back pocket of her jeans. She pulls out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes while crossing to the window and lifting it open, letting the cool air swarm in.

“Oh, is this okay?” She looks at him, “I’ve been needing this all day but I’m trying not to smoke when Jack’s at home.”

He nods, stepping closer and leaning one shoulder against the wall beside her, “Sure.”

The small flame of her lighter briefly illuminates her face, flickering against her cheekbones before she inhales at the end of the cigarette frazzles. She makes a deliberate decision to exhale sharply out of the open window.

“Give me one,” He speaks up, the idea of a cigarette calming his nerves really peaking his interest right now.

She glances at him sideways, lips lifting, “I thought you quit.”

“Never said that.”

“You did,” She snorts, “You said exactly that.”

He narrows his eyes, “Yeah, well, I need the stress relief.”

She passes it to him, their fingers brushing lightly. The contact lingers just long enough to register before he takes it fully. He inhales slowly, the burn settling in his throat.

They fall into an easy rhythm then, sharing the cigarette without needing to discuss it. The ember glows in the room each time one of them lifts it, a small pulse of orange light flickering between them.

The quiet isn’t uncomfortable. It feels different from the night of the Snow Ball, in his car. It’s not frantic, not completely charged by arousal.

He clears his throat lightly, “How’s Jackson?”

Jade wanders over to his bed, curling her legs beneath her as she settles on the plush mattress, “Annoying. He’s actually been talking about this girl.”

Steve’s brows raise and he follows after her, lying on his side with his head propped up on his hand, “Oh? And?”

She passes him the cigarette whilst exhaling, the smoke curling up into her nose, “Her name is Brittney. He won’t let me meet her.”

“Hm?” He inhales sharply. To be completely honest, he’s more focused on her and how her lip’s look rather than her goddamn brother and his middle-school crush. “Why’s that?”

“He says I’ll scare her off,” She shrugs.

Steve glances at her, amused whilst placing the cig back between her fingers, “Would you?”

“If she’s a bitch, sure,” Jade nods carelessly, “God, I really cannot have him dating some mean popular girl. Destined for disaster. Could you imagine? He’s supposed to be the opposite of me.”

He studies her carefully for a moment, brows cinching faintly when he sees how her sharp eyes dart towards him, “Is that a sly dig you’re trying to make, Grady?”

“Was it sly?” She purses her lips, “Wasn’t meant to be.”

That’s enough to make him move. He sits up, pricking the cigarette from her fingers and snubbing it out on his bedside table before turning back to her.

“Uh, hello?” She gawks at him, “I was not finished with that.”

“Yeah, well, I was,” He mutters, his hand sliding around her waist to drag her closer, “C’mere.”

She allows him to position her on his lap, her knees either side of his thighs. She holds his shoulders, massaging the material of his t-shirt beneath her fingers, “You’re insufferable. Got a one track mind.”

“Mhm. I let you smoke first though, so don’t be ungrateful,” He hums, his large hands venturing up and down her entire torso, exploring the expanse of her back and the dips of her waist like he’s memorising it until he finally pushes beneath her shirt.

She shivers as his cold hands meet her skin and she lifts her arms so he’s able to remove her top and discard it carelessly to the floor.

The moment the thin material is gone from between them, Jade pushes forward, crashing her lips against his desperately while her hand grasps the back of his neck and her fingers disappear into his hair.

He moans against her lips as she tugs gently at a few strands and his hand grip her waist, shifting her hips so they grind across the growing bulge in his jeans.

She pushes him down so he’s laid on his back and their lips never part as they kiss like their lives depend on it. Tongues swirl past one another, mixing salivas and breathes. Occasionally he’ll bite her lip and she’ll become aware of the wetness around their mouths.

Her brain circles around before she has chance to stop it. It’s the setting that trigger the thoughts. His room. Steve Harrington’s bedroom. The infamous fuck boy’s room. Although she keeps kissing him, the rhythm falters and she halts the grinding of her hips.

He notices immediately as her sweet sounds fall silent and the hold she has on the side of his neck loosens significantly, like she’s switching off.

“Grady?” He mumbles against her, hand raising to cup her cheek so he can push them further apart. His eyes study every inch of her face carefully; her swollen lips, twitching brows and eyes that are clearly distracted. “What’s wrong?” He asks breathlessly, “Jade?”

At the use of her first name, she grasps his wrist and lowers his hand so she’s able to sit up further. She keeps his wrist in her grip, but lowers it so their hands rest against his torso.

He peers up at her cluelessly, “Jade.” He repeats, “What is it?”

She tilts her head, eyes snapping to meet his, “Who was the last girl you had sex with in this bed? And be honest.”

The question hits him completely out of the blue. It’s something a girlfriend would ask. Something an anxious, jealous girl would ask for reassurance. Jade’s none of those things, or so he thinks.

“Wha…” He trails, “Jesus christ, Grady. Why are you asking me that now?”

“Tell me,” She says simply.

He opens his mouth then closes it again multiple times in the next few moments as his brain figures out how to navigate this. Will she care if he’s truthful? Is she even actually bothered, or is she just asking to see if he’ll be honest?

“Nancy,” His voice is quiet, border-lining a whisper, “It was Nancy. Months ago. Before Halloween.”

Jade swallows thickly, not because she’s surprised but more because it carries a sobering sting. It welcomes the reality of this situation between them. She’s been hooking up with her close friend’s ex-boyfriend for months now. She’s never had these thoughts before with him but being in his bed, where he was intimate with Nancy goddam Wheeler, makes a stranger feeling gnaw at her insides.

“Nancy was the last one?” She asks carefully.

He nods instantly, “Yeah. I’ve been hooking up with you since her, Jade. Only you. I know you think I’m sleazy, but I don’t fuck multiple girls at once.”

Her eyes narrow in slight disbelief, “Harrington—“

“You were the first and only girl I’ve ever hooked up with in my car,” He rambles suddenly, grasping at strings to try and fix whatever is jumping around her head, “Alright? I mean, c’mon, Grady. I let you ride my cock in my Beamer. I’ve never done that shit before with any other girl.”

Jade’s slightly taken aback by his admission but she can’t deny how it fills her with an odd sense of pride, “Why—” She smirks, “Why have you just told me that?”

“Because… shit, I think about it a lot, okay?” He groans, hands brushing up and down her thighs over her jeans, “Why do you think I called you over here? That was, like, the best fuck I’ve ever had.”

She dips her body again, pulling her lip between her teeth before she says, “You’re such a fucking loser, Steve.”

His brows raise for a split second, thinking she’s being serious and is about to crawl off him and disappear because she’s angry. But instead, she kisses him again. Harder this time, fuelled by something deep from inside. He whimpers into her open mouth, his hands frantically dropping to her jean buttons.

“Take your clothes off,” She mumbles before slipping away from him to shimmy out of her jeans.

By the time she’s returned to crawl over him, he’s completely naked. His jeans and blue t-shirt long forgotten on the other side of the bed. He welcomes her to settle on his lap again, this time his cock jumps against her thigh and he looks up at her with wide eyes.

She reaches below her, takes him in her hand like he belongs there and he never looks away from her face as she slowly lowers down onto him.

“Jesus— fuck,” He moans, acutely aware of how they’ve skipped all foreplay, “You’re so wet.”

“I’ve really been needing this apparently,” She whispers, wiggling her hips a little once he’s completely inside.

“Yeah?” His throat jumps as she starts to grind on him and his hands instinctively grab her waist to maintain the rhythm, “Go on then, sweetheart. Take what you need.”

His words alone are enough to make Jade moan and throw her head back, the pace of her hips quickening whilst his cock is nestled inside her like it belongs there. Steve’s watching her intently, his lips parted as he’s unable to stop the constant stream of pleasurable groans and quiet curses.

Much to his surprise, Jade doesn’t tease him for his noises and if anything they fuel her more as she squeezes her eyes closed, tightening her grip on his bare shoulders for stability.

He recognises the exact minute her pleasure starts to boil over. He’s got quite good at knowing it. Her jaw slackens and her lips part with small whines which she tries to refrain from doing but that seems to be impossible, especially when Steve starts to jerk his hips up into her. Another telltale sign is how her head lols forward and she seems unable to look away from his gaze, like it’s the only thing keeping her from completely shattering.

“Steve…” She breathes shakily.

He’s nodding before she has to say anything else and he hooks his hands beneath her thighs, lifting her ever so slightly so she’s hovering and he’s able to relieve her of the hard work. Both of their eyes roll back the minute he starts to fuck up into her.

One of Jade’s hands blindly wanders from his shoulder to brush over his chest and abdomen as she wants to feel every inch of him.

Steve can’t tear his eyes from her face, “I’m really fucking close, sweetheart.” He pants.

Jade moans fill the room as he quickens his pace by a beat and she nods, “Me too.” Then she’s dipping her head to catch his lips in a deep wet kiss with one hand snaking around the back of his neck.

Before she even has time to pull away, the orgasm flutters through her body with a blinding warmth and she whines loudly, fingers tightening around his hair and thighs shaking under his grip. Steve’s own body reacts immediately, the pit in his stomach rushing over as he comes undone, pornographic whimpers exchanging into Jade’s mouth.

“Oh… fuck,” His voice quavers, eyes glossing over as the pleasure ripples through him.

She feels his release pool inside her and he thrusts up a few more times before shakily settling against the mattress, slowly lowering her back down to sit on him again. Jade drops her forehead to his shoulder, shivering as his large hands move to her back to hold them close.

“I fucking…” She pants against his skin, “…hate how good you make me feel.”

He presses a lingering kiss to her neck and she feels how his lips are curled into a smug smirk, “Likewise,” His warm breath fans against the side of her face as he peers down at her, “Now, are you gonna let me clean you up this time?”

She huffs breathlessly, straightening up to look at him, “I think we should start using condoms.”

He snorts at her bluntness while shuffling to the edge of the bed, her still propped in his lap and his softening cock inside her. “We can do whatever the hell you want to do, Grady,” He sighs as he stands up, tugging her legs around his waist.

Jade curls her arms around his neck, allowing him to carry her towards his en-suite bathroom. “I mean it.”

He hums, kicking the door open, “Then I’ll buy some.”

[piece0fgarbag]

jealous type (part 2) - j. k.

(Joe Keery x Fem!Singer!Reader)

Summary: The Grammys puts you and Joe in the same room again, reigniting an unspoken jealousy and sexual tension that are impossible to avoid.

Word count: 9.5k

Warnings: +18 MDNI. SMUT (public and unprotected p in v), some angst, fluff-y.

a/n: lets pretend joe was at the grammys looking hot as usual...

The day after you left Joe for good, Mary and Paul traveled on your private jet all the way to New York. They helped pack everything from your shared apartment while you rotted in sobs in a hotel room. 

Joe was gone, probably in California, so Mary couldn’t kick his ass the way he deserved. 

You blocked his number, deleted your socials, and, for the next entire month, wrote the most depressive songs of your career. It would be crazy to announce this breakup album about a relationship no one ever knew about.

Mary and Paul insisted on taking you to their Christmas’ and New Year’s plans, like a sad, sickened puppy they had to take care of. 

They wanted badly to convince you to speak with Joe, clarify stuff, and find closure, but they couldn’t deny that those three messages Sabrina sent were enough damage to your mental health. 

“Want to know what I did when my ex cheated on me? Paul said one time he and Mary had driven you to the airport. “I fucked the girl she was always jealous of.”

Mary groaned. “That’s the worst advice ever, babe.”

For a second, you imagined sleeping with every hot guy in the industry to break Joe’s heart as he had done yours. But your sadness was making it impossible to even think about talking to another man again. 

During the first three weeks, there was one app you kept: Twitter. After years of not using it, you had found the fun in it and learned to block names from appearing on your feed. 

Scrolling on it was your favorite time-consuming activity until two tweets ruined everything. 

First, someone spotted Joe and Sabrina attending an SNL after-party. They hadn’t been seen together, but they were both in the same room so everyone —including you— assumed they were dating. 

Then, that same afternoon, the universe kept punishing you with a tweet saying, “omggg joe is active here again? he liked a Y/N Y/L/N edit!?” The comments were screenshots proving that he indeed had liked an edit of yours with… brazilian funk music? 

You weren’t sure how those short videos worked, but you liked it too as a thank-you to the fan. They had probably spent a long time finding clips of you looking not so miserable and—

A hundred notifications arrived all at once and you almost dropped your phone.

“OMG @ Y/N DOWNLOADED TWITTER AGAIN?”

“OMG SHE REMEMBERED HER PASSWORD!!”

“GIRL WE NEED THE NEW ALBUM!”

Your name was trending as everyone made a big deal of your accidental comeback on Twitter. Accidentally, you tapped on the DMs tab, which filters to only receive messages from verified accounts.

Your heart dropped at a name you had started to loathe. Only the start of the message was visible.

Joe Keery: y/n, why are u doing this?? what have I done to…

No way in hell you would open the chat; curiosity was not one of your traits now. All the chaos had been a message from the universe to delete the damn app. 

But even though you loved doing nothing but crying and creating music, there was one event you had to attend: the Grammys. 

You were nominated for Album, Record, and Song of the Year, and in the hype felt months ago, you hadn’t thought twice in accepting the event’s insistent begging to present an award and perform at least one song. 

A week before the Grammys, Mary dragged you to the show’s rehearsal. You hadn’t opened the email, not caring who you would present with or which award. There would be a teleprompter; why would you need to practice?

Fellow artists were hanging out in a lounge room as event managers called each pair to the stage. You politely greeted most of them, then sat down on a faraway chair and tried to fall asleep.

Someone gently shook your shoulder. “Hey, are you awake?”

You slowly opened your eyes and removed your headphones. “What—? Oh.”

Harry Styles was smiling down as he scratched his arm awkwardly. “Sorry to bother you. Just wanted to say hi.”

He wanted to say ‘hi’ to you?! “I thought you retired,” you said without thinking before covering your mouth. “Sorry.”

He chuckled out loud and slumped down next to you, placing his arm on your backrest. “That’s alright. I released a song, like, a week ago, so I’m barely un-retired.” 

Harry smelled good, you thought as you gave him a discreet once-over. 

“Nice. Will listen to it later,” you said. 

He shrugged. “It’s okay; you don’t have to.”

You frowned, not impressed by his attempt to look humble. “Why not? I like your music. Well, your debut album and Fine Line. Harry’s House was okay-ish.”

Harry seemed taken aback by your bluntness but he smiled widely. “That’s… absolutely valid. Umm, I do like all your music, so this is awkward now.”

Pleased that he was matching your mood, you crossed your arms and teased, “C’mon, there must be one song you dislike.”

He curled his lip and shook his head. “No… Maybe the unreleased one you sang a couple of months ago. Too cheesy.”

Even though it was obvious he was joking, you scoffed. “I hate that one too now. Never gonna release it.”

Harry turned to you, his arm accidentally grazing your shoulders. “Let me guess. They broke your heart?”

Worse, it broke you completely. But you just nodded and smiled weakly. “Something like that.”

You didn’t notice as his eyes travelled up and down your body, lingering on your legs. He licked his lips and opened his mouth to ask a question… just when the door opened.

“Miss Y/L/N?” a crew guy asked. “It’s your turn.”

Harry stood up and offered you a hand. You politely accepted it, refraining from making a sarcastic comment about his unnecessary gentlemanship.

“Oh, you should come too, Mr. Styles. You’re after her.”

The mentioned one nodded before you two followed the man to the stage. 

“It’ll be my birthday,” he suddenly said.

You blinked, confused. “Huh?”

“The Grammys are on my birthday,” Harry explained. 

You snorted humorlessly. “I would probably kill myself if I were you.”

Harry smiled and shook his head. “Why? It’s fun. Especially the afterparty.”

“Yes, if you drink and snort coke,” you mumbled. “And want to hook up with anyone hot.”

He joked, “Celebrity Manual 101 to the T.”

An assistant explained which award you had to present, which was the cue, and where to stand after it. There weren’t many lines and the teleprompter was slow, so your rehearsal lasted less than ten minutes. 

You hurried off the stage once it was over and repeatedly called Mary to have her pick you up.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry came out of the venue too and approached you. “Want me to give you a ride?”

Your instinctive response would’ve been to deny, but Mary wasn’t answering any of your calls and your stomach was protesting. 

You had followed Harry since his One Direction time, and he seemed like a decent, kind guy. His solo lyrics were amazing in your perspective, so… maybe you could step out of your comfort zone for once?

“Wanna eat something at my place?” 

— — —

For the entire week leading to the Grammys, all people talked about was the series of pictures of you in Harry Styles’ car, then both of you entering your hotel through the private back door. 

Then there were the pictures of you two going to a recording studio with his producers on Tuesday, visiting a friend in common on Thursday, and sneaking into a sushi restaurant on Saturday.

Harry was the friend you didn’t know you needed. He was as reserved as you, but kinder; knew everyone in the industry yet had no drama with anyone, not even his exes, and matched your songwriting vibe. 

After the Grammy practice, you showed him the almost fifty songs you had written since breaking things up with Joe. They weren’t finished, and they weren’t really on plans to be released soon, but a lightbulb turned on in Harry’s mind as he found rhythms for half of them. 

You had no idea how his lyrics could be so good at expressing your feelings. 

“Has anyone cheated on you?” you wondered as he served you more sushi. 

Harry frowned, thinking deeply, before shaking his head. “Not really.” He asked a server to pack your food to go.

“Let’s go to your place; I wanna finish those background vocals in Sinful,” you said excitedly while picking up your purse.

He chuckled and placed his arm around your shoulders. “That one’s my favorite too. Our voices mix perfectly.

The restaurant’s host opened the back door for you with a polite smile. Harry led you to his car across the empty parking lot. The restaurant had closed an hour ago, but Harry knew the boss. 

“Are you excited for tomorrow?”

At the reminder of the Grammys, you grimaced. “Oh, no. My stomach already hurts from the nerves.”

Harry stopped right outside the passenger door. He soothed your shoulder. “You wanna go together? Maybe it’ll help with your anxiety.”

Mary had suggested it already… but with ulterior motives. You shrugged. “I don’t know. Won’t that bother your girlfriend?”

Harry rolled his eyes as he opened the car door for you. “Zoe isn’t my girlfriend. We’re just friends.”

“Friends? I do not fuck my friends,” you teased.

He entered the driver's seat, smirking. “You’re not living your life to the fullest. When was the last time you had sex?”

You sighed. “A month ago… with You-Know-Who.”

Harry made a fake puking sound as he kept driving to his place. “You need to get laid, love. Tomorrow we’ll get you someone.”

“No, thanks.”

“Y/N, believe me…” He looked at you with complete seriousness. “A rebound fixes everything.”

You whined and threw your head back. “I don’t want a rebound! I want…” Joe. I want Joe again. But you just whispered, “...to throw myself off a balcony.”

Harry chuckled and squeezed your thigh. “Sometimes trying new things can help with the heartache, princess.”

And you knew, right in his tone, what was said between lines. You stared at his attractive profile, his eyes firm on the way ahead while his hand remained on your leg.

It was time to choose a road: keep crying over Joe, the first man you genuinely loved, or accept a quick british cure.

— — —

Every award show was overwhelmingly crowded; that was a known fact, so at the Grammys, you spent three minutes on the red carpet before rushing inside. 

If your peers found you rude or egocentric for avoiding conversations, you couldn’t care less. The past month had taught you to run away the second you felt uncomfortable… a piece of advice that your therapist did not approve of, but whatever.

Dolce & Gabbana had made you a custom red gown that mixed what you needed from the past festival: fairy-like sexiness. 

“You look like Lord of the Rings and Fifty Shades had a fanfiction that turned into a movie,” Mary had said as she took pictures of you on the red carpet. “A smile?”

“Nothing to smile for,” you had jokingly muttered to your best friend. 

Since everyone was still on the red carpet, there were only the assistants, the servers, and you in the event’s main room. Mary went to the bathroom while you looked for your seats among the various tables.

“Oh, no,” you whined when you found your name card… next to Sabrina’s. 

You rushed to grab yours and exchange it for another table.

“Miss? Miss!” An event’s assistant approached you with wide, horrified eyes. “You can’t do that. The seat arrangements have been planned for—”

You took out three hundred dollars from Mary’s purse. “Is this enough? I have Cash App, and—”

“Let’s make it a thousand,” the assistant offered. She shrugged and crossed her arms. “Or I can’t do anything to change your seats.”

Before Mary could arrive and see the immature thing you were doing, you transferred the money to the young lady. 

She smirked at her phone once the bank notification appeared before grabbing your name card and walking off. You picked up your dress’ hem and hurriedly followed her. 

The kind woman stopped at the table closest to the stage and exchanged a name card with yours. “Done. Bye!”

You walked around the table to read the name cards and almost shrieked. At each of your sides were ‘Harry Styles’ and ‘Djo.’ You’d rather kill yourself in front of them. 

“Girl! Woman! Whatever age, come back!” you shouted to the assistant, but she disappeared out of the room. 

“What happened?” Mary mumbled behind you, her eyes on her phone as she typed aggressively fast. 

You grabbed her wrist to get her complete attention and pointed to the name cards. She squinted her eyes, then chuckled loudly.

“This is crazy. I have to take a picture for Paul.” Mary pointed her phone at the table.

“What—?” you whispered, flabbergasted. “This isn’t funny!”

Mary’s wide smile didn’t waver as she replied, “I know, it isn’t funny at all.” She knelt to take another angle. “This is like my own Twilight happening in real life.”

You opened and closed your mouth, still taken aback by her lack of help. “Mary, what are you doing?!”

Some waiters and assistants turned around to look at you two. You smiled awkwardly at them before grabbing the closest one’s arm. “I need to change seats—”

“Absolutely not,” the bald man snapped. “The seat arrangement stopped receiving changes two minutes ago.”

You pulled out Mary’s wallet. “How much—?”

He took a big step back and glared at you. “Are you about to bribe me?”

Quietly, you gulped. “N-no. Was just looking for…” You took out the first thing you found: your friend’s Chuck E. Cheese card. “...this?”

Suddenly, Harry appeared behind him and smiled politely. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You whined and gripped his arm. “Harry, I can’t sit here. Look!”

He curled his lip at Joe’s name and shrugged. “Umm… I don’t know. Swap seats with me?”

The bald man shrieked, “No, you won’t. The camera crew has the seat arrangement already and I won’t have any confusion happening today, you understand?”

Mary sighed deeply. “It’s just one seat, sir. Can’t you accept a hundred dollars and a selfie?”

The man looked her up and down with disdain. “I’m done with celebrities,” he muttered before hurrying away.

You could feel yourself getting lightheaded from the stress. Artists started entering the venue, chatting calmly as they searched for their seats. 

Harry placed a comforting hand on your waist. “It’s alright. Just scoot your chair close to mine.” He gave you a once-over. “You look pretty, by the way.”

“She does.”

A bullet could do less harm to your heart than that voice.  

You weren’t brave enough to look at Joe behind you, but you could feel him, a presence you had gotten used to for almost two years. 

Harry smiled at Joe and offered his free hand. “Nice to meet you, man.”

That hurt. Of course Harry wouldn’t cross Joe off just because he was your ex. He never caused drama and wouldn’t start just for you.

You moved sideways, letting them shake hands. Joe’s eyes were on you, on Harry’s hand casually on your waist. 

“Mhm, nice to meet you,” Joe muttered sarcastically.

A flash blinded the three of you. Mary lowered her phone quickly and gave you an apologetic smile. “S-sorry. Didn’t notice the flash was on.”

Mary turned around to scurry away, then hesitated and approached Joe. She gripped his shoulder hard and whispered, “There’s a place in hell for men like you.”

Joe stared at her, speechless, before Mary sent you a quick kiss and rushed away. 

For a second, your eyes found Joe’s, but you swiftly looked to the ground, your heart aching like an open wound. 

Your entire body was shaking from the close proximity after a whole month without him. A month needing him back, craving his touch badly. 

“Oh, are you cold, love?” Harry asked before taking off his blazer and putting it over your shoulders

Joe scoffed and slumped down on his seat, giving you his back as he distracted himself on his phone. 

You took that moment to stare at him, to analyze him. He looked incredibly hot with his messy blonde hair and black outfit. In another universe where you two were publicly together, you would’ve sucked him off underneath the table. 

The room got full just when the show started. The first presentation occurred, then the host gave his speech, told his jokes… yet you weren’t paying attention to anything but Joe. 

It felt surreal having him right next to you but not being able to hold his hand, rest your head on his shoulder, or kiss his cheek. You two were now… strangers. 

Joe was barely moving, his eyes glued to the stage, but you noticed his hands turning to fists whenever Harry talked to you. 

At the start of the first commercial break, he turned to you and opened his mouth to speak, “Can—?”

An event manager arrived at the table. “Miss Y/LN, it’s time to prepare you for your presentation.”

Harry squeezed your hand. “Good luck, love.”

If looks could kill, Joe would’ve been sent to prison for murdering the former One Direction member. 

You followed the girl, choosing to not overthink what Joe was about to say, and entered the backstage world. 

While the stage remained great for the cameras, the behind the scenes was always a chaotic place. People with clipboards, water bottles, and cameras ran around, not looking as they pushed you out of their way. 

The giant dressing room was divided into three rooms for different artists. Mary was already on the middle one, typing on her phone as usual. 

Suddenly, a girl leaned out of the next room and squealed. You jumped back surprised and definitely not expecting a fan there. 

“She’s here!” the girl said to the other five girls before they ran to your dressing room. 

For some reason, Mary wasn’t reacting, just watching the interaction calmly. 

“Hi! We’re big fans,” a second girl said. 

You forced a smile and nodded. “That’s great. Nice to meet you.”

They were probably family with someone important that let them into the backstage without problems. 

“Can we take a picture?” a third one asked. 

Despite your discomfort, they seemed nice and very fucking excited, so you nodded and posed with them. 

A girl with black hair and pink bangs nervously asked, “Could we make a Tiktok?”

“D’you know the Gnarly dance?” another asked. 

An Asian girl slapped her arm. “Dude, don’t bother her anymore.”

They started bickering about dances, videos, and… zucchini? You felt like a Millennial hearing about Skibiddi toilets for the first time in their life. 

Before you could speak, an event’s assistant entered. “Katseye on stage in two minutes. C’mon, ladies, follow me!”

They squealed again, fixed their hairs quickly and exited the dressing room. Mary smirked at you and crossed her arms. “You knew who they were?”

You huffed and lied, “Of course I knew they were… Cats’ Eyes.”

Mary rolled her eyes and shook her head. “It’s 2026, Y/N. Please download Tiktok.”

Before you could keep protesting, your assigned styling team arrived. Mary made sure they put on your chosen dress, a blue gown—blue as your boring mood, she had joked—and fixed your hair until it was perfect. 

“Try not to mess yourself up for the next five minutes, okay?” Mary said from the door, ready to bolt. “I’ll be in the audience, throwing tomatoes at you.”

You smiled weakly at her joke. “Check that they aren’t rotten. The smell never leaves with those.”

Once she left, the quietness came back, leaving only the low hum of the current presentation out there. You sighed deeply and slumped down on the couch, careful to not ruin your hair. 

Finally, five minutes of calm—

“There you are.”

Sabrina’s voice cringed you.

Sitting up, you watched as the singer, already dressed for her presentation, closed the third door of the dressing room and firmly approached you.

For many nights, you had imagined your first confrontation with your former friend. In all those fantasies, you grabbed her voluminous blonde hair and threw her like a baseball to another planet. 

But in all those imaginations, you didn’t suddenly remember the good memories, the late-night conversations, the trusted confessions… 

You stood up, refusing to cry, as you muttered, “What do you want? To rub it in my face?”

Sabrina frowned. She seemed angry, almost livid. “Rub what, bitch?”

“Excuse me?” you gasped.

With her powerful five feet, she didn’t back down as she spat, “Like you heard: bitch. You’re a fucking immature bitch for blocking me, ignoring me everywhere, and disappearing without explanation. What is wrong with you?!”

You scoffed, the sadness subsiding and morphing into indignation. “Oh, so you wanna play stupid. Or is it slow? Maybe it’s useless.” Not really understanding yourself, you started to quote her lyrics. 

Sabrina frowned, taken aback by your random words. “What—?”

“That’s an awful song, by the way. Your whole album is shit,” you started to lie, wanting to hurt her as she had done with you. “It doesn’t deserve to be nominated.”

Her face turned red, and if you were in a cartoon, smoke would’ve come out of her ears.

“Oh, yeah? Well, your album is just whining and crying about how depressed you are,” Sabrina attacked back. “How about you go to goddamn therapy, Y/N?”

You almost stepped back from the shock. “You know what? Fuck you, man-stealer.”

Sabrina’s jaw dropped. “What?! Who did I steal?”

“You know what you did… homewrecker,” you replied, hesitating with the insult. “I saw your messages with Joe.”

Sabrina stayed quiet, her face going through various emotions as she processed your words. “Joe…? What…? Girl, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about—?”

“Before Christmas,” you explained. “He was going to California to—”

“Oh, that,” she muttered and sighed deeply. “You’re the biggest idiot ever, Y/N.”

Okay, now you wanted to seize her blonde hair and shove her small body to the ground.

“For trusting you two? Yes, I am. You deserve each other, you both lying snakes!”

She scoffed and gripped the bridge of her nose. “Dude, he’s not even my type!”

You crossed your arms and took a step closer. “What do you mean? Too easy for you or—”

Suddenly, Sabrina got on her tiptoes, grabbed your cheeks, and pecked your lips. You went still, not even closing your wide, shocked eyes.

She pulled back, her hands shaking slightly. “That’s what I meant.”

You stayed there, staring at each other quietly. Your whole face was red as you tried to come up with a normal sentence. 

“I—I didn’t realize… I, wow, uhm…”

Sabrina sighed and shook her head. “It’s alright. You don’t have to say anything or do something. I just… Can we still be friends?”

Still not sure about what was happening, you nodded. “Uhm. Yeah, why not? Just… We should talk more about… that.”

She scratched her arm nervously. “Yeah, I get it. Can you, like, not tell anyone?”

“Absolutely,” you assured her. “Your secret is safe with me. Won’t even tell Mary.”

Before the conversation could continue, the main door opened. An assistant smiled nervously. “Miss Y/N, hey, uhm… I forgot to pick you up. You have thirty seconds to get mic’d.”

Fuck.

“We’ll talk later,” you told Sabrina as you walked backwards to the door. “And I’m sorry I thought—”

Sabrina raised her arms. “OMG, girl, just go! You’re late!”

The sound team was on the verge of a nervous breakdown as they connected the earpiece and the sound equipment needed on your body.

The recent chat with your former friend was replaying nonstop on your mind. Never in a million years would you have thought Sabrina liked you. It made sense now why she had been constantly behind you after ending things with her ex. 

Your cheeks remained pink as you imagined what could’ve happened if Sabrina had made a move before you met Joe… 

“Ready,” a sound girl whispered, relieved. “Go, go. The commercial break is over.”

Another assistant gave you a microphone and gently pushed you to the stage. Oh, no, no. With all the latest drama, you haven’t had time to process the upcoming presentation. 

People applauded when you appeared on stage. You smiled nervously and walked to the center as the music started. 

A wooden swing decorated with leaves and flowers was hanging in the middle of the stage. You sat on it and started singing your famous yet nominated sad song.

You kept your eyes on the camera, avoiding connecting gazes with certain people down the stage. Your shaky hand gripped the swing’s cable as you swung softly.  

Your mind was trying to be focused on the lyrics, but your body needed action; you needed to release all this anxiety. 

As the instrumental part before the bridge started, you were supposed to walk to the front of the stage, place the microphone on the stand and sing more dramatically. 

But, at the last second, you made an impulsive decision and walked to the band behind you. They were always in your shows, so you had the confidence to approach the guitarist.

“Can you give me that electric guitar?”

He looked at the instrument behind him, sighed, and obeyed. “Do you even know how to—?”

You walked back to the microphone calmly, pretending this was the plan all along, as you placed the guitar strap on your shoulders and turned it on. 

This was your song; you had created it in your mind, and you had produced it, so you were in all the right to make some upgrades. 

As you changed the song’s rhythm, you felt that the lyrics stopped being about your childhood trauma and became more about your current insecurities and everyone’s pressure on you. 

You could feel your own lyrics hurting your soul. It stopped being the Tiktok song you were tired of singing, and it went back to the lyrics you wrote in your diary while crying. 

As you finished, you had to take a big step back from the microphone to recover your breath. Everyone in the room stood up to clap, but you needed to run. 

So that’s what you did. 

You returned the instrument and rushed off the stage. People were confused as you ran between them, the cameras following you. 

The show went to commercials quickly, afraid of what you may do, but you couldn’t care less as you pushed the door out of the event and almost fell to your knees in the lobby. 

A waiter gasped and helped you up. “You alright, lady?”

You vaguely thanked him before dragging yourself to the nearest elevator, in need of air. Without a doubt, your finger pressed the last button to go straight to the rooftop.

As you had imagined, it was empty with just some couches and tables perfectly in place. You ran to the edge of the terrace and grasped the railing like your life depended on it. 

You were fine, you were safe, and your show was over. Nothing had gone wrong; no one had thrown tomatoes at you. 

So you sighed deeply and slowly walked to one of the couches. You took long breaths, calming yourself by remembering that nothing really mattered anymore. 

“You alright?”

The last thing you needed currently was Joe’s voice right behind you. You kept soothing your chest as you nodded. 

“You don’t look okay,” he muttered. 

You closed your eyes when his form took shape in your eyesight. 

“I’m fine,” you whispered. “Don’t worry about me. You don’t need to do that anymore.”

Joe crouched in front of you. His left hand on your thigh made you open your eyes, staring right into his. 

“D’you need some water?” he whispered worriedly. “That was a great presentation, though. You have nothing to be nervous of. 

You quickly shook your head and stood up. “Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“We can talk tomorrow,” you sighed. “I’ll unblock you and—”

Joe rose to his feet too. “No. You don’t get to decide that anymore. Not after you walked away from my life for an entire month,” he said angrily. “Not when you threw away our relationship because of your immaturity and lack of trust.”

You licked your lips anxiously, taken aback by his livid tone. “I know, but tonight’s overwhelming enough and—”

“Is it because of him?” he cut you off. He approached you in swift strides and grabbed your arms. “Can’t let you go without knowing.”

You blinked confused. “What—?”

“Harry Styles,” Joe snapped. His angry eyes weren’t wavering away from yours. “Are you going out with him?”

You sighed. “We’re just friends.”

He scoffed, his right hand going up to the nape of your neck. “Are you fucking him, Y/N? Did he kiss you?”

The sudden closeness of his lips, his deep brown eyes into yours, and his usual cologne were making a mess of your brain. 

“I—No. It’s not like that,” you stammered.

Joe’s hand wandered to your cheek. He stroked it with a weak smile. “I saw the pics. He took you out, you took him home… I’m not an idiot. You don’t need to lie to me.”

You held his wrist and caressed it as you whispered, “How could I sleep with someone else when you’re all I see in my dreams?”

Joe closed his eyes, your words cutting right through his heart. His hand dropped as he took a step back. “And I only see you in my nightmares.”

You gulped and hugged yourself awkwardly. “I get it. You should hate me.”

He looked at you horrified. “Hate you? I wish. I should; you’re right.”

You hadn’t noticed he had been carrying a folder. Joe placed it on the coffee table. He pointed at it, and you reluctantly sat down and opened it. 

“Every message I had with Sabrina.”

There were around fifteen pages of text messages, printed out by a specialized system to show the exact time. They were all cordial, brief, and talking about—-

Joe took a small square box from his pocket and threw it carelessly at the table. “I knew Mary is obligated to tell you everything, so I asked Sabrina for help.”

You didn’t need to open the box nor read more messages. Your eyes watered as you covered your face, feeling like the worst person in the world.

“I spent days and nights asking myself what the fuck I did wrong, trying to understand you,” he continued. “I didn’t realize it was about her until she told me you had blocked her too.”

Joe knelt again in front of you until you were looking at him again. “I kept asking myself what I must have done to make you think I would ever cheat on you, Y/N.”

With shaky legs, you stood up and started walking to the door. Joe stopped you, seizing your arm. “Where are you going?”

You whispered in a tearful voice. “I fucked up. You weren’t with her. Alright, fine. But that doesn’t change things.”

Joe scoffed. “What the hell do you mean? It changes everything.”

There was an ashtray on the table that made you crave a cigarette. 

“It doesn’t change that I left without a word; I gave up on us unfairly,” you explained. “You didn’t deserve any of this, Joe. I love you too much to make you come back.”

“No,” he snapped. Again, he grabbed your arms to keep you in place. “You can’t decide what I deserve or not. You can’t say you love me and then break my heart again.”

You covered your face for a second, overwhelmed by your own resistance to crying. “That’s what I mean, Joe! I’ll just drag you down with me and my problems. I’m not okay; I’m insecure and every stupid thing gives me anxiety and—”

“And I still love you!” he cut you off. “Even with your flaws and your issues, I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, Y/N.” 

You looked up at Joe when his voice broke. His eyes were matching your tearful ones.

“We both fucked up,” he continued. “I know you hate surprises; you’ve told me a thousand times, and I still stupidly planned all that with Sabrina.”

“Please tell me you didn’t have a whole party planned,” you mumbled.

Joe smiled weakly. “It was her idea, but thank God it didn’t happen. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He soothed your arms. “You should’ve talked to me. Even if I want to, I can’t read your mind, honey.”

You nodded, sniffling. “I’m working on my communication issues. It’s just… I guess I wanted to suppress that jealousy since she is my friend, but, yeah, I fucked up. I’m so sorry, Joe.”

He rested his forehead against yours. “I forgive you. I’ll forgive you a thousand times if it means getting you back.” You started to pull back, so his arms swiftly engulfed you. “Please… I can’t lose you again.”

“No, no,” you whimpered and quickly brushed off your tears. “I’ll do something bad again, I’ll break your heart, and the cycle will be repeated.”

Joe pressed your body close to him and kissed your temple as he mumbled. “You don't know that. We’ll work together, communicate better, and—”

“Joe, stop,” you whispered sadly. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

He grabbed your face with one hand and shook his head. “You’re hurting me by acting like this. Acting as if you don’t deserve to be loved because of your mistakes.” He pressed his lips against your forehead.

You could feel your body melting against his, recovering the heat it had missed. “You’ll end up hating me.”

“I could never hate you,” Joe whispered firmly. He pulled back to look you in the eyes. “We may fight, I may get mad, you may act stupidly, but I will never hate you, baby.”

The pet name squeezed your heart. Your hands nervously lay on his chest, caressing him lovingly. 

“I’ll go back to therapy,” you mumbled. “I wanna get better for our relationship, for my friendships—”

“And for you,” he completed. “You have to do it for yourself.”

You nodded and forced a smile. “I’ll do my best.”

Joe tightened his hold around your waist and whispered, “You look beautiful tonight.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach. “This old thing?”

He smirked and gave your dress a once-over. “I burnt one of your sweatshirts.”

The smile vanished. You frowned, completely taken aback. “What? Which?”

“The green one. The one that was mine but you started using it as a pajama?” At your nod, he continued. “I hugged it every night since it smelled like you.”

You pouted, feeling the pang of guilt again.

“Don’t feel too bad; I jerked off to it every night too.”

Oh. Your cheeks turned red. “So… you didn’t fuck anyone else?”

He gave you a deadpan look. “Didn’t even cross my mind. I was too busy crying or using my hand with your sweatshirt pressed on my face.”

You covered your face as you giggled. “Didn’t I forget a thong or anything smaller?”

Joe shook his head, his heart beating faster at the sound of your laugh. “Searched all around the apartment, but Mary and Paul did a good job packing all your stuff.”

“And how did you burn it?”

He hesitated before replying, “When I saw the pictures of Styles entering your house… I had a breakdown. I thought the worst, and in the midst of it, I threw the sweatshirt to the fireplace.”

You curled your lip and rested your head on his chest. “I’m sorry. I never did it with the intention to make you jealous. He really is just a friend.”

“A friend that wants to fuck you,” he mumbled bitterly. 

Smirking, you pulled back. “Maybe, but I don’t want him.” You whispered in his ear, “He isn’t you.”

Joe felt a weight lifted off his shoulders at the reassurance.

He nodded, caressing your face again—he couldn’t believe he had you back in his arms—and said, “I’ve been trying to contact you every single day. I went to all your houses, to your friends’ and families’, sent you emails….”

You frowned. “Wait, you went to my family’s house?”

“Yeah. To your mom’s, your sibling’s, your cousin’s.”

“What?” you mumbled, confused. “They never told me that.”

Knowing your family, they probably thought they were protecting you by keeping that information to themselves. 

“It was very awkward,” he admitted. “Your cousin didn’t remember me and thought I was a Jehovah’s witness.”

You chuckled loudly before covering your mouth self-consciously… but you were with Joe, your Joe, your other half who would never judge you, so you kept laughing carelessly.

Joe couldn’t help but join you as he recalled that long day at your cousin’s house. 

“... and then I even texted you to your old Wattpad account.”

“You what?!” you gasped. “How did you remember my username?”

He pursed his lips. “It’s difficult to forget a name like ‘NiallHoransDyedHair69.’”

Your cheeks were turning scarlet. “OMG, I told you that once!”

Joe shrugged. “Just so you know… your One Direction fanfic is still there.”

“What?!”

“I read some chapters.”

You looked at the balcony behind him and wondered if throwing yourself would be enough to end the suffering. 

“What would thirteen-year-old Y/N say about Harry Styles now being in love with you?”

“He is not,” you muttered. “Joe, he is a really nice guy. You two should meet—”

“Absolutely not,” he interrupted you. “I’ve already punched him a hundred times in my dreams.”

You squinted your eyes. “Wait, don’t change the topic… You had to create a Wattpad account.”

“Sadly.”

“Did you look up your name?”

He frowned. “No…”

But his tone betrayed him. You gasped, covering your mouth. “You did!”

Joe looked to the ground awkwardly. “I saw some pretty weird shit and quickly closed the app.”

You giggled and placed your hands on his shoulders, squeezing them comfortingly. “It’s just fanfiction, and believe me, there are worse stuff on—”

His lips pressed against yours in a soft kiss, and both of his arms dropped to your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

“Sorry to interrupt you, but I can’t help it when your laugh is so cute,” Joe mumbled before kissing you again.

You held onto his shoulders and let yourself melt back in him, in the incessant craving you’ve had for a month. Going from daily intimacy to none had stricken you both, and you could tell by his hard erection brushing your hip. 

“Joe…” you whined when his kisses lowered to your jaw. “Don’t start something we won’t be able to end.

“Who said that?” 

His hands lowered to grasp your ass tightly, making you moan. You looked behind you to the entrance. 

“No one’s coming,” he assured you. “And there are no cameras. They know shit like this happens here.”

Your mind was screaming at you to return to the event, to sit on your assigned chair and clap politely at every award… but Joe’s lips had reached that spot under your ear while his hands were bunching up your dress to caress your thighs.

“I need you,” Joe whined as his hips stuttered against you like a desperate dog. “Please, baby.”

He gently grabbed your right hand and placed it over his hard-on. “Look what you did. This is all from you.”

You gripped him and gulped. God, you wanted him just as badly…

Without overthinking it, you started unbuckling his belt. He kissed you hungrily as he pushed you to the couch, gently hovering over you. You messily shoved down his pants and briefs, spat on your hand, and stroked him. 

Joe moaned and dropped his head on your shoulder. “D-don’t. I won’t last. Need to be inside you.”

You helped him bunch up your dress and move your underwear to the side. As he pressed his tip on your entrance, you suddenly gasped and sat up.

“Wait, I’m not on the pill anymore.”

He froze and sighed deeply. “I don’t have a condom.”

You bit your lip nervously; the lust was clouding your mind. “Just pull out at the end.”

Joe looked up at you surprised. “You sure?”

Mary would kill you if she knew, but you nodded and pecked his nose. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

He scoffed, smirking. “I can list a few things.”

You spread your legs wide and whined. “That’s a problem for our future selves.”

Joe considered himself a smart man, but seeing you beneath him with your pussy already dripping for him was blurring every objective thought. 

He placed your legs around his hips and slid into you, both of your moans filling the empty rooftop. 

“Fuck,” Joe grunted at your bare tightness.

You arched your back and pleaded for more, which he didn’t hesitate to give you. There was no time nor patience for lovemaking; you both needed to discharge the suffering from the entire month. 

Joe raised your legs to his shoulders and started pounding into you roughly. You whined and clawed at his shirt, opening it messily. He shoved down your dress straps until your breasts spilled out. 

He kissed your ankle before leaning forward, doubling you pleasurably and hitting a deeper spot. You were trying to be quiet, but it was impossible with his large cock claiming you again. 

“Joe, don’t stop,” you moaned as your fingers threaded into his hair, pulling it. 

He groaned and grasped one of your breasts, his thumb grazing your nipple. “You feel so good, baby. Missed this pussy.”

You pulled him down to a filthy kiss, whining at the way your body was bending. “Yours. I’m y-yours, Joe.”

Joe’s cock twitched inside you in response. He bit your bottom lip before mumbling, “I know. No one else could ruin you like me, huh?”

You nodded and whimpered, trying to elaborate a normal sentence. “Y-yes. Need you all t-the time.”

His left hand wandered to your neck, squeezing softly. Your pussy clenched hard, making him smirk. “Like to be treated like a slut?” You could only nod and moan. His hold tightened. “Moan my name, princess. Who do you belong to?”

“To you, Joe,” you whined. “Faster, please. P-please, baby.”

He pulled back and gripped your hips before accelerating his pace. Your moans got uncontrollably loud, so he quickly stopped. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered embarrassedly. 

Joe soothed your hip reassuringly with one hand as the other loosened his tie. He took it off completely and doubled it. “Open your mouth, honey.”

You gulped hesitantly but let him put the tie on your mouth. 

“I love your moans, but we don’t want our hard launch to be like this, right?” Joe joked. 

Your giggle turned to a muffled moan as his fast pace came back. The sound of his hips slapping against yours felt like a sacred harmony to your ears.

He bit his lip and threw his head back as he tried to prevent his upcoming orgasm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

For a second, you got distracted by the sight of him. His neck glistened with the moonlight as drops of sweat traveled to his chest, revealed by the messily opened shirt. He seemed on the verge of reaching heaven, and it was all because of you. 

You were making him look so helpless and filthy. Right then and there, you were sure he would never leave you. Joe was yours forever. 

“God, I’m not lasting long, baby,” he whimpered. “Need you to come first.”

Knowing his hands were busy already, you rubbed your clit and bit the tie hard. The mix of his fullness and your touch was enough to trigger your orgasm. 

You arched your back involuntarily and screamed into the tie as you came hard around him, gripping his cock tightly. 

Joe whimpered at the feeling, knowing he was a second away from finishing. He resisted, prolonging your orgasm, then pulled out and finished all over your bunched-up dress and legs. 

You gasped and sat up, staring at the wild sight dripping on you. “Joe…”

He was panting, still recovering his breath, as what he did clicked in his mind. His eyes went wide. “Shit! I’m so sorry.”

You looked at each other in shock before breaking down into laughter.

“Mary will murder me,” you said.”

Joe nodded and tried to wipe away his cum with his pocket square. “Probably will murder me first.”

You caressed the nape of his neck as he readjusted your dress carefully. The white stains were still obvious. 

“It’s okay, I just need to sneak into the dressing rooms and get my red carpet dress,” you assured him. 

But he remained nervous as he helped you up and kept wiping the stains. You stopped him with a tender smile. “It’s okay, baby.”

Joe sighed and threw the bundled-up pocket square to the closest trashcan. You kissed his cheek and buttoned his shirt.

“I hope you unblock me after this,” he said

“I’ll think about it,” you joked before patting his chest. “We should get back.”

He grabbed your hand instinctively and led you both inside. Soon, you would part ways, so he wanted to enjoy the short time he had left with you. 

Once the elevator’s doors closed, Joe pulled you into a fierce kiss, backing you to the wall. You giggled against his lips and tried to pull back. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry. I remembered I have to wait until the afterparty to kiss you, and I just… had to do it one last time, you know?” he whispered while his thumbs stroked your cheeks. 

You smiled weakly, remembering the reality of your hidden relationship. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Mmm, I think I love you more.”

He smirked at your teasing. “Nope. I love—”

The elevator announced its arrival to the first floor. Reluctantly, Joe stepped back and let his hands drop to his sides. 

“See you later,” you whispered reassuringly before walking out. 

Joe stepped out of the elevator and stared at your distancing form with longing eyes. A second, a minute, and not even an hour with you was enough time. 

His left hand fidgeted with the square box in his pocket as he wondered what could’ve been if the month-old drift hadn’t happened. 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the venue, you were rushing behind curtains to reach the backstage dressing rooms. Some assistants and camerographers gave you confused looks, but no one had enough time to process it before you were gone. 

Your dressing room was empty with just your previous dress and heels bundled up on the floor. After some shaking and dusting off, you put it on and walked out. 

Right on the door, you almost crashed with the event assistant from before, the one that sat you between Joe and Harry. She was pale and clutching a clipboard to her chest while a tall man stood behind her with crossed arms. 

“Miss Y/L/N, we’ve been looking for you,” he said in the deepest voice you had ever heard. “Did this woman ask you for money in exchange for a seat rearrangement?”

Your only acting experience had been in a school play’s version of The Wizard of Oz as a background tree, but you gave the performance of your life as you frowned and shook your head. 

“No, I’ve never seen this woman in my life,” you lied. “Am I in trouble for sitting at the wrong table? Oh, I’m sorry! I just wanted to be next to my friend, that’s all.”

The man narrowed his eyes, looking from the assistant to you. “You need to be on your assigned chair, ma’am. The camera crew could get confused.”

You nodded and hugged yourself with fake embarrassment. “Alright, will do. Sorry for the inconvenience!”

He gave the woman a last bad glare before walking away. The woman sighed deeply and clutched her chest. “I almost got fired there. Thank you, miss.”

Before you could assure her that everything was fine, she hugged you and whispered. “I’ll make sure the cameras get all your best angles and that the marketing team posts you a lot on the Grammy’s socials.”

“Oh, that’s not—”

“Let me escort you to your original seat!” She grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the backstage. “They’re just gonna announce Song of the Year.”

Sabrina and her friends were chatting at the table with smiles that vanished when you arrived. They stared at the blonde singer confused, but she smiled and motioned to your seat with her head. 

“Sit down. Sarah is getting to the best part of the story,” Sabrina said casually. 

Awkwardly, you sat down and greeted her friends before pretending to understand what they were gossiping about. 

You discreetly glanced at your previous table and, of course, your eyes met Joe’s. Your heartbeat got so loud that it muffled every sound in the room. Now that your problems were water under the bridge, you could remember the reasons you loved him so hard. 

Besides his obvious good looks, Joe was the smartest, sweetest, and funniest guy you had ever met. Since the day you met, your brains had connected, even before your hearts did, and there was no one who understood you like he does.

“Welcome back to the Grammys!” The host popped your bubble as he talked to the cameras. 

He introduced the presenter for the next award and you clapped along with the audience. The nominated songs were mentioned along with a brief glimpse of each. 

Sabrina grabbed your hand on the table, squeezing it. “Good luck,” she whispered. 

You had forgotten both of you were nominated, but quickly wished her the same after the Manchild’s chorus played. 

“And the Grammy goes to…” said the presenter, opening the envelope. “Closed Doors by Y/N Y/L/N.”

Shit. You had left the speech Mary wrote in your purse back on Harry’s and Joe’s table. 

Everyone clapped and stood up just as the camera got closer to your face like a giant metallic box ready to eat you.

You forced a smile and walked to the stage, mentally screaming to yourself to avoid tripping with your own dress.

An event crew member helped you on the stairs and led you to the center of the stage, where the presenter congratulated you while giving you the shiny award. 

It was your third one since you started making music, so your nerves were slightly less uncontrollable. 

“Uhm…” you said into the mic before you froze. 

Beneath the warm lights, the various cameras and the hundred eyes plastered on you… a realization popped in your mind: this wasn’t the life you wanted. 

You weren’t born for fame, awards, or money. None of it had ever made you happy; not at the start and definitely not now. 

“I’m retiring,” you announced with a bright smile. Gasps and murmurs ran over the room. “I love writing, so if you want me to write you some songs you can talk with my manager and best friend, Mary.” 

You pointed at the audience in the back. “It’s the beautiful woman with the pink dress. Yeah, that one. Deal with her. I love you, Mary. Thank you for everything. Uhm…”

People were still whispering, and surely Twitter looked the same. 

This would definitely be your last time on a stage, so you took everything off your chest.

“The Godfather is so boring.” A few gasps came from the crowd. “Tarantino is so overrated and Paul Dano is an amazing actor.” Some claps and whistles. “Zayn Malik was the best One Direction member. Sorry, Harry!” Laugh and applause were the response. 

A life running from paparazzi, flashing lights, and fans wasn’t fulfilling you the way it seemed to do for your peers. True happiness for you came from the quiet moments in your room, the crazy plans with your friends, the soft whispers of your lover in the night.

Joe. Oh, Joe.

You looked around the audience and the simple sight of him made you smile. 

“I love you, Joe,” you said right into the microphone.

The gasps and cheers were loud now as your words shocked yet confused the audience.

A camera pointed at Joe, whose eyes were wide and cheeks were red. 

“I never thought I would find—” you stopped talking when it hit you that pouring your heart out in front of millions was probably not the best idea. 

You bunched up the bottom of your dress while holding the award in your free hand and rushed to the stairs. An assistant swiftly helped you take two stairs at a time before you ran to Joe. 

The cameras were still following you as Joe caught you in his arms and accepted your passionate kiss. 

People cheered, shouted, and applauded like a Super Bowl finale was happening in front of them. 

“I do. I wanna marry you,” you whispered to your boyfriend with a shaky, emotional voice. “If y-you still want me—”

Joe held your face and kissed you again, evoking more crowd chaos. “Of course I still want to marry you, silly.”

You chuckled as your eyes got tearful. This was it, what you had always wished for: to do whatever the fuck you wanted.

After grabbing your purse and giving Harry a quick side hug, you held Joe’s hand and dragged him out of the venue, the cameras still on you and people shouting encouraging words as you passed by them. 

“You’re insane,” Joe chuckled the second the doors closed behind you. 

You smirked. “Your fault.”

He rolled his eyes playfully before pulling out the small box from his pocket. With trembling fingers, he opened it to reveal the most gorgeous ring. 

You gasped at the sight of it. “What the fuck, it’s perfect!”

It was similar to the ones you usually used, so it would match perfectly in your hand. Joe held your hand and sighed, “I had a whole speech planned but you kinda ruined it.”

“Nooo,” you whined. “Give me a summary while we run to the car.”

Joe frowned. “Run to the—” He turned around to follow your gaze and noticed the hundreds of paparazzi rushing to you. “Shit.”

He slid the ring on the correct finger, gave your hand a soft kiss and followed you to the closest exit door. 

Mary was already there with her arms crossed over her chest. She finished her champagne glass and approached you. 

You forced a smile. “Mary! Hey… Uhm, so… things happened.” 

A smirk slowly grew on her face. “The driver is arriving. I’ll get another room. Have fun, lovebirds.”

Joe blushed, never getting used to your friend’s bluntness, while you hugged her and whispered a genuine ‘I love you’ in her ear.

The car arrived. 

Mary took the Grammy from your hand. “I’ll receive the others if you win. Just gonna pretend I’m you, thank my whole family, and then curse my ex.”

Before you could defend yourself, Joe opened the backseat door and helped you in. He waved goodbye to Mary too and followed inside. 

The moment the door closed behind him, you pulled him to hover over you.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you mumbled as you kissed all over his face. 

Joe smiled lovingly and enjoyed the feeling of your lips on him. It seemed insane that for a month he thought he would never have you like this again.

“Wait, you haven't formally asked me,” you realized and took the ring off. “Do it again. Speech and all.”

He rolled his eyes but accepted it and cleared his throat. His voice turned serious as he started, “Since the day I met you, I’ve known I never wanted to stop hearing your laugh. Since the first time I kissed you, I’ve known I won’t be able to survive without your love.”

Your eyes were already getting tearful while your cheeks were hurting from how wide you were smiling. 

“When I imagine my future, I see you by my side, in the good and in the bad, with ten kids or ten cats—”

“Ten?!”

Joe teasingly placed a finger on your lips to shush you and finished, “Maybe just six kids, then. I’ll give you the world if you want it; I’ll run away from California and live on a prairie if you ask me to… I would do anything and everything just to never lose you. So…” 

He pretended to take the ring from his pocket and awkwardly knelt on the car’s floor. “Will you make me the happiest person in history by spending the rest of my life with me as my partner, my best friend, my wife, and the love of my life?”

Your voice was trembling as you tearfully accepted. Joe chuckled at your reaction, slid the ring on the correct finger, and kissed your hand again. Oh, you could watch him do that a million times.  

“Together forever?” you whispered.

Joe caressed your cheek before pulling you to a firm kiss. “Forever.”

---

a/n: wow! thanks for the support guys. this is insane jsjs hope you liked it. maybe i can write a part 3... or not

taglist (sorry if i forgot anyone!): @louisbelongstome28 @maviezz @hi-my-nameisrose @mattm1964 @lacywithdrawal @inesvisible @pinkiepieshepardspie @hummusxx @rempiresway @nosebeers @zulema222 @chels3711 @softlypaleprodigy @pinkpantheris @djoslut @lacyrry @cockslutslurper3000 @matthewgraygublersmh @roseosstuff @ez4ra @slushys-things @littlepippilongstocking @aracelis2goatef @tomsrebeleyebrow @ellen-winter @hungrilysymbol @pearldaisy @yeahitsmedontcreamurpants @toto31tu @ellasaddiction2 @littlewolfieposts @ellastyles13 @gigrat @catloverteen @calleighwithagh @daenerysvelaryonsblog @willowpains @sarahg19956 @hjgdhghoe @djoblue @sarah-thatstings-ann @tuckerpillsburyswife @angelicbabyd0ll @kmanobal @sunshinevansh @moonlit-luna @luver4chris @ithinkimagirlkisser @cciessuzi

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taglist part 2!

@yuetuxin @uniquecutie-puffs @hamwrapz @spookyparadiseduck @impossibleapricotlampbat @tana-babe @belpsbelps @dreamsarebig @lillithshifts @rosylnsworld @justiceforfoxface @bugs-tags @dirty--heart @miaissilly @elizaaudreyy @boundandbrews @accioboobear-blog @calmpunker @jennwonwoo @rrosiitas @cherryvelsstuff @2006teas @ribeiroteresa97 @mayberenee @chlohemm @softstormx @hesdebility @luvrrish @randaapandaa @abarelyexistentbeing @akumatizedmuffin @kozuuji @astraealupinblack @jihoonsbbygirl @notsmartypants @meganryannnn @xoxocelestial @legendarychrattgirl @charliesangel67 @bethexo07

[piece0fgarbag]

jealous type - j. k.

(Joe Keery x Fem!Singer!Reader)

Summary: Watching Sabrina arrest Joe awakens a fierce jealousy inside you—time to remind your boyfriend who he belongs to.

Word count: 7.6k

Warnings: +18 MDNI. SMUT (m!receiving oral, deepthroating, unprotected p in v), established secret relationship, reader is chronically offline, insecurity and jealousy themes, ANGST

a/n: the 1k special! this is dedicated to all of you. im so grateful for your support. love u forever.   -liv

Befriending musicians is boring until you find a genuine connection. It may be a girl with your same humor that will end up producing songs with you, or it may be a handsome, shy man who has your same music taste and ends up kissing you after letting you rant about why Ringo Starr was the best Beatle.

Both of them were in the Austin City Limits festival lineup, right on the same day, with your show between them. 

Your dear friend and fellow singer Sabrina texted you the night before to have you as her ‘Juno’ arrested person. But even though you really wanted to, there was no time with your presentation following hers. 

Y/N: oh, but I can tell Joe! he loves doing random stuff and people won't see it coming!!

Sabrina: which Joe?? Keery?

Y/N: ofc dummy, he’s downstairs cooking something. i’ll talk to him asap.

Sabrina: ahhh right. forgot u two were dating lollll

It had been an odd message, you couldn’t lie, but it was Sabrina; she was silly sometimes. 

You still remembered the day you met her vividly. She went backstage after one of your concerts and begged you to go to her birthday party, claiming she was one of your biggest fans and saying, “I’ve DM’ed you for months and you never answer!” which made you re-download Instagram. 

While she was a complete pop star with the million fans, the blonde hair, and the catchy songs, you were more of an indie, sad-songs, barely-went-to-any-events singer. Some of your songs got extremely famous on TikTok and it overwhelmed you to the point of closing all your socials. But at her birthday party, you realized how many of your fellow singers admired you. 

They convinced you to reopen your socials and to attend some parties with them, yet after forcing yourself for a month, you went back to your home studio with your favorite producer and your guitar to write a song about how much you hated the music industry.

Sabrina loved it. She texted you, posted you on her stories, tweeted one of your lyrics, and sent you memes on Tiktok. God, she was insistent. But… she was funny and caring, so you let yourself have a different friend.

Joe loved your songs more, though. 

At one of the many parties Sabrina dragged you to, the host begged you to sing on stage. You refused, but there’s not much one can do against social pressure, and you sang your little sad song you wrote at fifteen that people at Tiktok used for their sad ship edits.

Joe approached you at the bar. “Hey.”

He had been thinking of a hundred opening lines, but when he reached your side and smelled your perfume, his mind went blank.

You lowered your second vodka cranberry and smiled politely at him. “Hi.”

Joe cleared his throat and sat on the stool next to yours. “Big fan.”

His obvious nervousness was endearing for you. “Thanks. What’s your name?”

He blinked, taken aback, but replied calmly, “Joe.”

You weren’t a constant show watcher, preferring movies, so Stranger Things didn’t even ring a bell in your mind. 

You shook his hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“Really? Had no idea,” Joe joked, making you chuckle. Wow, he was already finding your laughter cute. He tried to be discreet about his crush on you and started some small talk. “I’ve been a fan since 2018.”

You narrowed your eyes and smirked. “I don’t believe you.”

“I am!” he insisted and pulled out his phone. 

He scrolled quickly for almost a minute until he found an old Instagram story he had posted for his close friends. It was a screenshot of your first album with the text, “I’M OBSESSED.” 

Your jaw dropped as you placed your hand on his bicep—oh, he was strong. “Wow, I hardly meet OG fans. Most come from my last one.”

Joe got so distracted by your sudden touch that he forgot to exit Instagram. The next old story appeared, a screenshot of your Instagram page with the text, “And the singer is so fucking hot. I’m gonna marry her.”

Your cheeks turned red. “Oh—” 

He hurriedly closed the app and accidentally dropped the phone on the wet bar. You rescued it before it hit the water and chuckled at his clumsiness. 

“I don’t… It was a long time— I didn’t even remember—” Joe stumbled over his words.

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “Odd way to ask me to marry you, but sure. Let’s do it.”

Joe smiled and chuckled nervously. “You accept?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, you’re hot too. Isn’t Las Vegas close by?”

That night, you didn’t go back to Sabrina’s California mansion. Instead, you found yourself at a mini golf court with Joe until three in the morning. In less than two weeks, he asked you to be his girlfriend.

For almost two years, Joe and you had managed to keep your relationship a secret. It wasn’t that you wanted to hide it; it was more about needing privacy. People were hungry to know every detail about your personal life, so it felt great having Joe all to yourself.

Joe was always insisting that he didn’t really care if people knew, but you were a bit paranoid and overprotective of him. Even though Stranger Things was a huge success, Joe never felt assaulted by paparazzi or fans. He could walk across a park, sit in a cafeteria, and have a calm time. But if people knew he was dating you… that peace would be gone.

After writing some songs on Short n’ Sweet for her, Sabrina and you got closer. You had never written such horny, sexy lyrics, but dating Joe provoked sensations you never thought possible.

Sabrina knew about Joe. She hadn’t met him, not even the night you met him, but she was on your close friends and saw your constant pics and videos with him. Since Espresso ended up being such a big hit and opened many doors for Sabrina, you had almost no time to see each other.

Sabrina: ahhh right. forgot u two were dating lollll

You kept staring at the message for two long minutes, still trying to understand the mood.

Y/N: for almost half a year lol. keep up girlie

Sabrina: when is the hard launch coming? a tip: don't have him staring at one of ur videos!

The memory of her ex-boyfriend, Barry something, appearing on the Please, Please, Please video made you chuckle. Her producers, her closest friends, and you had warned her not to do it, but Sabrina was stubborn.

Y/N: dont worry. yk i dont like shooting music videos

Sabrina: bo-bo-boring!

Y/N: will probably hard launch a picture of us in our wedding day lmao

She left you on read, but you paid it no mind. You kept mentally preparing for tomorrow’s festival. Your fans almost died when you announced your appearance. Some of them nicknamed you ‘shooting star’ since they saw you once or twice a year. 

Joe finished cooking your favorite dish, chicken lasagna, and set the table while you talked about the next day’s event.

“Oh, Brina texted me,” you remembered. “She wanted me as her Juno arrest for tomorrow, but I think it’ll be funnier if it’s you.”

Joe stopped serving your plate. “What the hell is a Juno arrest?”

You briefly explained Sabrina’s bit and looked for videos. “It’s always a celebrity. She arrested Millie last year, I think.”

He was very hesitant about the whole idea, not really seeing the funny part of it. 

“Joe, everyone’s hyped ‘cause Stranger Things is returning next month,” you tried to convince him. “People will love it. I will love it. I literally wrote that song about you, baby.”

“But… okay, fine,” he gave up. “Just ‘cause you want it.”

You giggled and kissed his nose, but Joe grabbed your hips and pressed his lips against yours. “And just ‘cause I’m the song’s muse.”

“Partly. Sabrina’s ex also inspired her and—”

Joe scrunched his nose. “Ew, ew. Don’t remind me I share songs with a cheater.”

Throughout the night, he kept kissing you and making you laugh until the festival’s stress vanished from your mind.

But almost twenty-four hours later, as you watched Sabrina’s show from a backstage television… you regretted all your recent choices. 

Sabrina, looking extremely hot with a purple dress and her messy curls, was performing her Juno arrest, asking Joe for his name. “Joe, it’s cuffing season.”

The crowd roared wildly as your boyfriend excitedly offered his hands for the handcuffs while grinning broadly. 

Sabrina passed the fluffy pink handcuffs to a security guard and giggled, “You seem so eager! That’s rare.”

Joe bit his bottom lip as he reached for the cuffs. Once he got them, he waved the object to the camera and a flustered, blushing Sabrina covered her chuckles with her hand.

“This next song is dedicated to Joe, everybody,” she said.

Your head started to ache, your left eye started to twitch, and your hands were turned to clenched fists. Other crew members kept watching the television, not noticing as you rushed back to your dressing room.

You weren’t a jealous person. Not that much. It obviously made you uncomfortable whenever someone flirted with your man in front of you but it never made you genuinely insecure.

But his reactions… his excited smile he usually only gave to you.

And then there was Sabrina, looking so beautiful and sexy with her high heels, sparkly dress, and suggestive poses. 

Oh, God… Joe would be in the first row, watching the Juno pose of the night. You felt on the verge of passing out. 

What were you thinking by offering your boyfriend to be seduced by one of the hottest women alive?! 

You closed the door behind you and, with shaky hands, grabbed the nearest cushion. That damn message from the night before was making everything worse in your mind. You screamed your lungs out into the cushion, effectively muffling your screams.

Sabrina: ahhh right. forgot u two were dating lollll

What did she fucking mean by that?! How do you forget that?! 

You threw the cushion at the wall and pulled at your hair anxiously. A thousand fatalistic thoughts invaded your mind in milliseconds.

Sabrina wanted to steal your boyfriend; it was obvious. It made all the sense in the world. Why wouldn’t she? Joe is the cutest man ever. And, oh, he definitely wanted to fuck her too. Who wouldn’t? She was hot, sexy, adorable, and… for some reason she was never wearing jeans.

You felt an immediate guilt at the sort-of slut-shaming against your friend. Sabrina was one of your few genuine friendships in the industry. She had a unique humor and was always kind to you. It wasn’t fair to jump to conclusions.

Driver’s License by Olivia Rodrigo played in your mind. Oh, shit. Sabrina had done it before, according to the song. You had never asked her about the truth behind it, but if the Olivia girl wasn’t lying… You weren’t one to call a woman a ‘whore’ or ‘slut,’ but the horrible word ‘homewrecker’ appeared at the tip of your tongue.

You grabbed the closest thing you found—a sunscreen bottle—and threw it at the wall. “Stupid, stupid. I’m so stupid!”

“Umm…”

The sudden voice behind you stopped your heart. Gasping, you turned around and found a backstage assistant holding a water bottle at the end of the dressing room. She seemed absolutely terrified of you. 

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Was just going to leave and—"

“It’s okay! I’m sorry,” you interrupted her with a forced smile. “I didn’t notice you, uhm… Thanks for the water.”

The assistant slowly placed the bottle on the table and walked towards the door, her back glued to the wall to avoid approaching you.

You licked your lips nervously and looked at the floor, ashamed. When she reached the door, you said in a shaky voice, “I really appreciate the water!”

The woman was out in a flash. You slumped down on the couch and rested your head in your hands. “What am I doing…?”

The door opened and closed as your best friend—and manager—entered swiftly. She was typing on her phone while she spoke. “You’ll be on stage at fifteen. Everyone’s ready, the fans—”

“Am I crazy?” You rose to your feet and grabbed her arms. “Didn’t you see what just happened?”

Mary looked up from her phone, frowning. “Ehm… Sabrina’s show?”

“No! I mean, yes. When she arrested Joe and—” you tried to find non-dramatic words. “And almost fucked him right there in front of everyone!”

She sighed deeply. “Girl, they’re actors. They were acting. You know what that is?”

Mary instinctively entered Twitter to check what people were saying about you, but the first tweet was tonight’s Juno arrest. She paled and tried to quickly cover the screen.

“Show me, show me,” you whined as she raised her phone out of your reach. “Mary, please!”

“Okay, but let me schedule you an appointment with your therapist for tomorrow first.”

You took it from her hands and felt your stomach drop. The tweet had almost half a million likes already. All the internet was ‘shipping’ your boyfriend with Sabrina.

“Girl, give me—” Mary tried to recover her phone. 

You turned away and looked for Joe’s name in the search tab. Everyone, like, literally everyone, was talking about how cute they would be as a couple and how obvious his crush for her was.

“I’m gonna pass out,” you mumbled, dropping the phone on the carpet. You knelt down and tried to calm your breath. 

Mary whimpered, looking around for something to help. She passed you the water bottle. “Here. Drink, breathe… Umm… Okay, let’s be rational. People think Joe’s single, so it’s normal for—”

“I doubt they ‘ship’ her with everyone she arrests. People noticed the chemistry between them,” you snapped. “That wasn’t acting, Mary. I’ve seen Sabrina flirt at parties a thousand times, and Joe, well… with me, you know?”

Mary knelt next to you and seized your shoulders. “Exactly. With you. He wants you. He loves you. I’ve never seen a man so in love with someone, baby. Twitter doesn’t know shit, okay?”

You crawled to the table and grabbed your phone, determined to download the app. Mary reached for your phone, but you kicked her away. 

She held your leg and pushed you to the floor. “Don’t!”

You rolled around and crawled away. “Leave me alone!”

“No! I’m your manager so you have to obey me.”

“Literally no, it’s the opposite—

Mary pulled you back by your ankle. “Give me that phone, young lady!”

“We’re the same age, idiot.”

The door opened and an event crew member leaned in. She looked around until her eyes found you two on the floor. “Uhm… Okay? Miss Carpenter is wrapping up. I’ll need Miss Y/L/N in five minutes to get her ready.”

Mary stood up and forced a smile. “Thank you, she’ll be there.”

The woman nodded and looked at her clipboard. “Oh, and Mr. Joe Keery is coming to say hi.”

“No!” you whined but the woman was already gone. You looked horrified at Mary. “He can’t see me like this. I’m a mess. I’m gonna break down and—”

Mary gave you a harsh slap. You gasped and held your cheek confused and shocked. 

She pulled you up and gripped your shoulders. “Listen to me, idiot. Half of the crowd out there came for you. Your fans miss you; they haven’t heard you sing in almost six months, so you’re going to forget everything about your personal life for an hour and give them the best show of the night, understood?”

It was true; the last time you had sung live had been on SNL at the start of the year… which you still regretted to the present. It had been a good presentation, but you were forced to attend the afterparty and socialize. 

Horrible scenario for you.  

You nodded quietly, still soothing your cheek. “But… If I see Joe, I’ll cry. I just know it! And I’m a horrible liar!”

Mary groaned and looked around the room. “Uhm, alright. Hide somewhere; I’ll distract him.”

And then you heard his voice coming from the hallway. 

“Oh, no, no,” you whimpered. 

The bathroom was too far away, so you jumped into a tight, wooden closet and closed the doors firmly. You sat down between shoes and covered your mouth, feeling like you were in A Quiet Place. 

Mary sighed deeply, mentally preparing for the next five minutes. A soft knock came before Joe opened the door. He had an excited smile that wavered at the lack of your presence.

“Hi, Mary. Umm, where is she?”

Mary hid her shaky hands behind her. “Changing. She’s getting on stage soon and— No, wait!”

Joe walked to the bathroom, opened the door, and frowned at the emptiness. “What—?”

A boot beneath you slipped and made you lose your balance. You tried to cling to a dress, but your feet stumbled and made you fall out of the closet. 

“Ouch!” you whined as your butt hit the dressing room’s carpet. 

Mary wanted to die, while Joe just smiled and rushed to help you up. “There you are!” 

You avoided his eyes and pretended to wipe off dirt from your dress.

“Look what I brought you,” he sang before waving those damn pink handcuffs. 

You cleared your throat and mumbled, “Oh, you did that? Okay.”

Joe frowned but kept smirking. “What do you mean? You told me to! Wait, you watched it, right?”

Well, you had to keep lying. You shrugged and crossed your arms. “No, sorry, I was… preparing my voice.”

Joe’s jaw dropped. “What? Nooo,” he whined. “It was fun; you were right. I’m sure I can find a video somewhere.”

You froze as he pulled out his phone. If he entered Twitter, he would see everyone’s theories of Sabrina and him dating. 

“Wait—Uhm, I’ll see it later. I have to be on stage soon.”

His eyes widened excitedly. “Oh, right. I’ll be there, front row, cheering for you.”

Joe left the handcuffs on the table and pulled you into a tight embrace. You noticed Mary’s hard eyes behind him while mouthing to you, “Hug him back!”

You awkwardly patted his back, not really in the mood to be near anyone. He pulled back immediately. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just… very anxious and on the verge of jumping off a bridge,” you mumbled. 

Joe pouted and kissed your forehead. “Everything will be alright, honey. I promise. No need to be nervous.”

You felt your eyes getting wet. Oh, no, why now? You quickly turned around and pretended to look for your shoes. 

“Yeah, whatever. It’s just an hour,” you whispered. 

Mary noticed Joe’s furrowed brows and intervened, “She needs to be on stage soon, Joe, so… please leave.”

He knew he couldn’t exactly fight your manager, even though she was more of a friend than your employee.

Joe gently held your arm and turned you around. You closed your eyes as he kissed you softly. “I love you. You’ll do great.”

Now you wanted to cry from the guilt. Of course Joe didn’t want Sabrina; he loved you and demonstrated it every day. 

You pulled him into a hug so he couldn’t see your tearful eyes and whispered. “I love y-you too.”

He soothed your back and gave you a final kiss on the cheek. “I cleaned my gallery for tonight. I’m going to record every second of the show.”

Mary stepped between you firmly. “Okay, you’re the sweetest boyfriend ever, we get it. Goodbye!”

She dragged him to the door as he kept looking at you. There was something in your eyes, in your quietness, that worried him. 

“I love you,” Joe repeated before Mary closed the door on his face. 

She sighed deeply and rested her forehead on the door. Usually, you were her best client. You didn’t use social media, you barely went out of your house, you made albums once a year, everyone loved them, and you disappeared again. 

It was the easiest job to manage you. But, of course, everything had to go wrong on the only time of the year that you were going on stage.

“I don’t wanna wear this dress,” you whined at your mirror’s reflection. 

The fairy-like long green dress made sense with your music genre, but now, you could only compare yourself with Sabrina’s outfits. Next to her, you were the most unsexy nun. 

Mary felt like a vein would explode in her head. “You begged for this dress, honey, and we don’t have time to change—” 

You opened the closet and hurriedly changed for something else. There was a tight white dress with revealing cleavage.

“Babe, no.” Mary tried to take it from you. “We haven’t done an outfit test with this; it’s too risky.”

“I wanna wear it.”

“Are you deaf or just ignoring me completely?” Mary was losing her patience. 

You unzipped your long dress and put on the tiny one. It looked too tight on you. “Perfect!”

Mary passed a hand through her hair anxiously. “Y/N, I swear to—”

A knock came from the door as the same crew member arrived to take you to the stage. 

You were trembling from head to toe while you followed the woman. Mary was walking beside you, giving you advice you didn’t listen to.

Three people placed microphones and an earphone while a stylist finished fixing your hair and makeup. 

“Okay, you look hot, just don’t… kneel down or it may break, or show your panties—”

You cut off Mary’s rambling. “I need a shot. Vodka.”

Mary frowned and tried to stop the several crew members that rushed to get you one. “Honey, everything will be fine—”

“No, no. I wanna go home; I hate this. I hate this day—”

“Don’t make me slap you again,” Mary muttered as she squeezed your cheeks. “You got this, Y/N. Listen to the people cheering. They need you. They have traveled from all over the world to see you!”

You whined but nodded. “Alright. I can do this. For the fans.”

“For the fans,” Mary agreed and pushed you to the stage. 

The music and the cheers started the moment you walked in. You awkwardly waved at the crowd and rushed to the microphone. After a small speech you had rehearsed a hundred times, someone passed you your guitar and the show started. 

The few other times you have had a concert have been the same: you get incredibly anxious for a couple of days, but the second you’re on stage you transform to ‘Singer Y/N’ and everything turns out easier.

You avoided looking down at the front row, knowing the moment you saw Joe you’d get nervous again. 

Wow, Joe was watching you perform. Everyone was hearing your last album for the first time live and you felt a bit sad that the debut of it hadn’t been in a concert of your own. 

“Okay, we’ve got time for one more song,” you said, making the crowd whine. You chuckled. “I know, I know. I would stay all night with you if I could.” 

Total lie. Well, no, you would do that for your real fans… in a very small venue and not televised. 

“This one is a gift… An unreleased song.”

Your jaw dropped at the loud level of cheers. They were being too dramatic; you had released an album at the start of the year, and they had been fed enough. 

“I wrote this for…” Suddenly, adrenaline took over your mind. “For my partner.”

This time, you were sure some people had passed out from how loud they had screamed. 

“My partner is here tonight, so yeah… this one is for you, honey,” you said before starting to sing your first romantic song.

On the first row, Joe felt his heart stop. No one around him knew you were singing to him, that those sweet, poetic words were for him. He could’ve cried right there, but in the middle of the song, event assistants escorted him backstage for his upcoming show. 

Once you finished, waved goodbye, and stepped off the stage, you felt your soul come back to your body. 

Mary hugged you tightly. “That was amazing! The last song was so cute, I almost cried!”

You smiled weakly while crewmembers took off all the cables from your body. “I had a great time… Can’t believe I just admitted that.”

“Me neither!” Mary shrieked excitedly. “Oh, this means I can plan a tour—”

“Absolutely not,” you stopped her. 

A hand squeezed your shoulder behind you. “Great show.”

You could recognize that voice in any crowded room. Joe was smirking at you, resisting the urge to kiss you in front of everyone. 

Placing a hair behind your ear, you blushed and smiled. “Thanks. Good luck!”

To anyone around you, it was the first time you had ever interacted. When in reality, you could never get used to his compliments. In your head, it was insane that such a good man like him could love someone as damaged as you.

When you expressed that thought to him, Joe had to sit up from the surprise. He hated that you could see yourself in that way. 

“See you later?” Joe said as the festival announced his stage name.   

You shrugged teasingly. “Maybe.”

He looked you up and down, licked his bottom lip, and swiftly leaned in to whisper, “I’m going to rip that dress off of you at the hotel.”

As if nothing had happened, Joe went onto the stage and started his show, leaving you flustered and shocked. 

Your core clenched at the mental image he had provoked. 

He was a pro with the crowd, talking to them and hyping them up for his songs. You watched your boyfriend, entranced for a minute, until someone tugged your arm hard and pulled you into a hug. 

“I loved your show, girlie!” Sabrina squeals in your ear. She had taken off her heels, so you almost had to double down to hug her back.

“Thanks,” you said awkwardly. 

She pulled back but kept her hands on your shoulders. “You were amazing. Joe said you were nervous, but I didn’t notice.”

You tensed at the mention of your man from her lips. It had been a very small thing, but your mind was already tweaking. 

“We were on the front row watching your show together,” she explained. “He protected me from some fans; you know how they get!”

There were too many people around you that would be potential witnesses of your potential choking of Sabrina Carpenter. No way in hell was she thinking her words weren’t harming you; she wasn’t stupid. 

“Then we got escorted on the last song ‘cause he had to get ready, but he recorded almost all your show. So cute,” she said in a fake voice. 

Well, it had been in a normal tone but in your mind, everything coming from her suddenly seemed fake. 

You felt your stomach drop. “Wait, he didn’t listen to the last song? It was for him.”

She shrugged and gave you a pity look. “Sorry, honey. He heard, like, half of it. He loved what he heard, though!”

Sabrina frowned when you shoved her hands away and hurried to your dressing room. 

It wasn’t really Joe’s fault that he had to leave mid-song, but the fact that Sabrina had been next to him all the time, probably chatting and chuckling since they were both so funny. 

Actually, they weren’t that funny; they just had charisma. There were a thousand funnier people in the world! It wouldn’t be a big deal if you cut off all communication right there with everyone, right now. 

“What happened now?” Mary muttered, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. “I saw they talked to you. Did they confess they have an affair, two kids, and a house in Italy?”

You glared at her, not liking the joke one bit. Mary’s smirk vanished. 

She sat next to you on the couch and placed a hand over your shoulders. “Babe, you can’t let your insecurities ruin your night. You did something big today! You went out of your comfort zone. I’m so proud of you.”

Her last sentence triggered something deep inside your heart. Your eyes got tearful and before you realized it, you were crying with your head on her lap. 

Mary soothed your head and looked worriedly at the door. “Don’t you wanna watch his show? He’d be sad if—”

“I hate this,” you sobbed. “This is not like me. I’ve never been the jealous type, you know it! Tell me I’m not crazy.”

She sighed—she seemed to be doing this a lot with you today—and said in a tender voice. “You’re not crazy. It’s normal to feel like that, but… honey, Joe loves you, and Sabrina is your friend; they would never do anything to hurt you.”

You sat up. “What would you do in my shoes? I know you have jealousy issues.”

Mary’s jaw dropped in indignation. “I’m not… always that jealous. Just—”

“You cut it off with James when he sat next to a girl in an airport.”

“There were a hundred empty seats and he made the conscious choice of sitting next to her. He knew what he was doing, that fucking prick,” she muttered. 

You shook her by the shoulders. “What would you do if you were me?”

“Talk to him about your concerns—”

“I need you to be honest, not healthy!”

“That’s crazy to ask—”

“Mary, please!”

She whined and pushed your hands off her. “Fine! I would deepthroat his cock until the only sound coming from his mouth is my name!”

Your friend covered her mouth, ashamed, while a smirk grew on your face. “A blowjob. Of course! That’s a great idea.”

Mary lay back on the couch, looking at the ceiling, and whispered. “I’ll schedule you two therapy sessions for next week.”

You stood up and started pacing around the couch anxiously. “Okay. You once told me you’re amazing at it. Teach me!”

The manager went still. “Excuse me?”

“At Anne’s dinner last month you said you were great at deepthroating. I told you I can’t do it and Anne said there’s a spray to relax your throat and—”

“I’m not buying you fucking throat spray—”

You dramatically fell to your knees in front of her. “Mary, I’m begging you. Joe’s show lasts an hour. Enough time to get it.”

Mary regretted ever offering to be your manager. “Why can’t you just… try to relax it?”

“I can’t! And Joe is so big—”

Mary covered her ears. “Ew, I don’t wanna know that!”

You jumped to sit next to her and jokingly murmured, “Big, long, veiny cock—”

“Stop!” she whined and pushed you back to the floor. “I told you I don’t need to know about your sex life unless you get accidentally pregnant.”

You hugged her left leg. “C’mon, Mary, just google the closest sex store. I’ll give you a raise.”

“I already earn millions a year thanks to you.”

“I’ll get you a date with Paul Mescal.”

Mary gasped. “You wouldn’t… He has a girlfriend. That singer girl that’s always sorry about something.”

You shook your head with a wide smirk. “Sabrina told me they broke up a month ago. He is single and very ready to mingle.”

Mary shrieked excitedly, stood up, then sat down again. “Okay, okay, alright. I’ll buy your stupid spray.”

Jumping to your feet, you leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I love you. This is why we’d be wives in a universe where you like girls.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed her purse. “I’ll leave it hidden in that drawer. Go watch your man’s performance or I’ll tweet a pic of the spray in your account.”

— — —

Guards and assistants escorted you to a special, secluded place in the front row. You waved at some fans, signed some of their vinyls, and took three selfies. 

Joe noticed the commotion down the stage and smirked at the sight of you, still in that sexy dress with your beautiful eyes up on him. Even after a year and a half of dating, he got flustered by your attention. 

The show continued as planned, but he doubled his efforts to impress you. Joe was deeply in love with you and wished everyone could know it. For a second, he imagined jumping off the stage and claiming your lips without a care in the world. 

But above all, he respected your decisions completely and would never risk exposing your relationship without your consent. 

When Joe finally finished his presentation and left the stage, he walked straight to his dressing room, thanking everyone who stopped him to compliment his show. 

The light was off. Odd.

Joe gasped after he turned it on and saw you sitting cross-legged on the couch. You turned around and smirked. “Hey. Did you see me in the crowd?”

He smiled instinctively and approached you. “How could I not notice my prettiest fan?”

As he leaned down for a kiss, you placed a hand on the nape of his neck and met his lips halfway.

Joe smirked against your lips and let you deepen the kiss while hovering awkwardly over you. His hands caressed your cheeks tenderly. 

But you didn’t want tender and romantic; you needed passionate, hot sex. 

You rose to your feet and shoved him to the closed door. Joe was taken aback by the sudden roughness but welcomed it with a nervous smile. 

He gasped as you attacked his mouth again, pressing your body flushed against his. You could feel his already hard cock restrained by his jeans. 

You locked the door and swiftly started unbuckling his belt. His cheeks turned red. “Here? Are you sure? The walls are kind of thin.”

“Shut up,” you muttered before biting his bottom lip. 

He whined and touched his bleeding lip, surprised… and deeply excited. “You’re feisty tonight, huh?”

“I told you to shut the fuck up.”

Joe gulped at the dark lust in your eyes and nodded quietly. You shoved his jeans and boxers down in one go before falling to your knees. 

After the disgusting spray numbed your throat, you listened several times to Mary's voice message explaining how to give an amazing blowjob. It was the moment to leave your shy self behind and evoke your sexual persona. 

You licked your right hand, grabbed his cock, and rubbed his slit with your thumb. 

“Fuck—!” Joe almost screamed from the pleasure. With one hand he held your head while the other covered his mouth. 

Never had you seen him react like that, so you kept going. Joe threw his head back to the door as you kept pressing and moving your thumb on his tip’s slit, already causing precum to come out of it. 

Your eyes remained on his as you took his tip in your mouth slowly, making him groan at the wet feeling enveloping him.

Joe tangled his fingers in your hair and turned it into an improvised ponytail. He was torn between holding you tenderly or fucking your mouth roughly.

Obeying Mary’s instructions, you sucked the tip and then swirled your tongue around it. 

“Jesus, fuck—” His hips shifted involuntarily.

Your jaw slackened before you took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing to create a suction sensation that turned him into a whimpering mess. Joe felt vulnerable, exposed, like a teenager receiving his first blowjob as his body reacted in ways never discovered before.

Thanks to the numbness, you continued pushing him into your mouth until you almost reached his hairy base. Joe looked at you surprised and overwhelmed. No one had ever taken him that far. Not even you. He felt as if one of his many fantasies of you was becoming true right in front of him.

“Just like that, baby,” he grunted as you moved slowly yet urgently. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Your tearful eyes stayed on his as you finally took his cock completely, deepthroating for the first time ever. Joe felt himself hardening at the messy sight. He gripped your hair hard, not able to control himself, as he bit his lip to avoid moaning.

But you weren’t backing down. You pulled back to the tip, then pressed forward until your nose touched his pelvis again. Joe was starting to feel his self-control slip through his fingers as his legs trembled with the effort of holding back. He was already close to finishing, and he needed it to last longer.

Joe was in heaven.

You held onto his firm thighs and fastened your pace. It was incredibly difficult to breathe through your nose while your tongue traced around his cock while also sucking him hard. How did so many people enjoy doing this?!

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whined loudly, his mind too lost to think clearly. “Y/N, don’t stop. You feel so good, honey.”

The feeling of your throat constricting around him, the tight fullness of his cock into you, your complete surrender to him… Fuck, he was fighting hard to not thrust animalistically.

You gagged slightly and hummed around him, a single tear rolling down your cheek, and he was a goner. Joe’s right hand left your hair and searched urgently for one of your hands. 

A bit confused, you let him hold your hand tenderly.

“Baby, I’m close,” he warned with a ragged, broken voice. You almost laughed at how choked up he sounded, almost on the verge of tears. “Please…”

You took him deeper, staying there and giving him the permission he was desperately begging for. The simple act shattered the last thread of control.

“Fuck, Y/N!” Joe couldn’t suppress the trembling groan and spilled into your mouth. 

The hot, white waves of cum shot into your numb throat like a consuming ocean. His entire body went still as he squeezed your hand tightly. 

And following Mary’s last advice, you swallowed all of it. He sensed it and, for a second, almost got hard again. 

You pulled back, wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and stuck your tongue out to show him you hadn’t left a single drop. Joe groaned and pulled you up to a messy, open-mouthed kiss.

“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he murmured against your lips. “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.”

You smiled proudly at your success, feeling your peace coming back. Your throat had taken his cock. He was hungrily kissing your lips. He was in love with you and only you.

Joe was yours.

— — —

Life got better after you became a blowjob expert.

Who knew the key to making a man that happy was sucking his cock?

Maybe that was why Mary had so many men desperately calling her. But, well, she now only had eyes for her man.

It was odd seeing your childhood-friend-turned-manager in paparazzi pictures with Paul Mescal.

Joe and the irish actor became good friends after Mary forced all of you to double-date. 

On the opposite stick of friendship, Sabrina and you drifted away slowly until your only communication was exchanging memes once a week. 

You never told her or Joe about your jealousy that night, but why would you? Joe was wrapped around your finger, Sabrina was banned from your private life, and insecurities aren’t eternal.

Months passed and the December holidays were just around the corner. 

Apart from a brief trip to California two days before Christmas, Joe was glued to your side.  You’d share Christmas Eve with your family in London, then fly together to Chicago to spend the holiday with his.

The night before his trip, music videos were playing on a low volume on your television while Joe fucked you on the couch. 

You arched your back and let him pull your hair as you moaned, “Oh, fuck, baby! Harder!”

Joe spanked your ass and railed into you. “Want me to ruin you, honey?”

Nodding desperately, you gripped the cushions and whimpered, “Please, please… Fill me up.”

He loved hearing those words since you started taking birth control pills and let him fuck you raw. Joe had no idea what had sparked this sudden transformation over the past three months, turning your previously tender sex life into something freakishly passionate, but he wasn’t complaining in the slightest.

“Gonna be a good girl and take all of me?” Joe grunted while rubbing your clit.

Just as you were about to nod, you noticed Harry Styles’ Lights Up video was playing. Your pussy clenched instinctively at the sight of the shirtless singer. Joe’s eyes followed your gaze before he ceased his movements. 

He turned off the television, gripped your neck, and pulled you to him until his chest met your back. “Are you serious, Y/N?”

Too cockdrunk to process what was happening, you whined. “What? Why are you stopping, babe?”

Joe knew you weren’t even thinking of the british singer when you clenched around him, but he couldn’t ignore the jealousy on his chest. His hold on your neck tightened as he drove into you with a newly found might.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried as he rubbed your clit with his free hand. “I’m close, so close. Don’t stop, baby.”

He bit your earlobe. “Scream my name when you come, sweetheart.”

You arched your back painfully and let the trembling orgasm hit you. It rolled all over your limbs like the warmest, most pleasurable buzz. “Joe!”

At the powerful clench of your pussy around him, he let go and released himself deep inside you.

You both fell faceforward onto the couch, Joe on top of you. He moved your head to the side and gently kissed your cheek. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you hummed weakly. “Amazing.”

Joe pulled his softening cock off you and started looking for a towel to clean you. 

“You want a glass of water?” he asked as he delicately wiped your overwhelmed pussy.

You nodded and pouted, silently asking for a kiss he delightfully gave you. Once he was gone, his phone buzzed on the coffee table. You rolled to the side and squinted your eyes. “I think your mom is calling you.”

From the kitchen downstairs, he yelled, “Answer her! It’s probably about the Christmas dinner!”

Your legs were too weak with the afterglow of it all, so it took you too long to sit up and reach. Just as you grabbed it, the call dropped. You sighed and started to unlock it to call your mother-in-law back… but a notification froze you.

Sabrina: everything’s ready. see u tomorrow :)

Sabrina: remember to delete the texts. cant have her finding out ;)

Sabrina: [PHOTO]

Your head felt dizzy as your stomach did a thousand turns. The phone fell from your hand to the carpeted floor. You couldn’t even bring yourself to open the SMS conversation and snoop more; those messages were enough to mess with your head, your body, your heart… the unbearable pain was everywhere.

For the entire past week, Joe had avoided answering your questions about his upcoming California trip, claiming that it was music-related. You hadn’t paid it enough mind until now. So he was going to California to see her… Wow. Just wow. He hadn’t even mentioned they had each other’s personal numbers, much less that they were friends. 

Or whatever the fuck they were.

Trying not to break down, you got dressed quickly, grabbed your biggest purse, and packed your essentials. 

Joe came back with a pair of boxers on and a big glass of cold water in his hand. “What did she say…?” His voice quieted when he noticed your trembling hands shoving stuff into your bag. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

You closed the purse and walked past him. Joe tried to grab your arm, but you hurried down the stairs. A mix of confusion and fear ran through him as he left the glass on the floor and followed you.

“Y/N, wait! What are you doing?”

He finally took hold of your arm to stop you, stepping in front of you to study your face. Your eyes were wide and glassy, your gaze lost in the wall as your entire body trembled. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispered worriedly. “Baby, talk to me.”

The endearing term brought you back to the present. Your sadness turned to anger as you shoved him off you. “Don’t touch me.”

He stepped back, surprised. His chest ached from your words. “What—?”

“Don’t call me, don’t text me, and don’t even look at me. We’re done,” you brokenly mumbled before turning back to the door.

Your coldness struck him as he watched you walk out of your shared apartment. For a second, he thought you could be pranking him… but it wasn’t like you to do something so cruel.

When he heard the elevator down the hallway arrive, he reacted. Joe ran out of the apartment in a flash. “Y/N! Wait! Please—”

The elevator doors closed in his face. He pressed the button anxiously and unsuccessfully. Since he was on the fortieth floor, Joe had to wait for a new one to arrive, but deep down, he knew he had lost you, unannounced and out of the blue.

Inside the elevator, you rested back on the wall while trying to calm your breath. But the realization of it all, of the end of your idealized relationship, crashed into you at once. You covered your mouth to muffle your sobs as you slid down to the floor. 

There was no going back from this pain. 

You were done with Joe.

_

a/n: PART 2 NEXT WEEK!

[urawizardharry]

Forever

Steve Harrington X HendersonBFF!Reader

Summary: In which Steve doesn't realize that his way of coping with Nancy and his breakup is hurting Y/N in the process. He also doesn't notice that Billy Hargrove is not only trying to take his throne, but the girl he's loved forever too

Warning(s): Angst, mutual pining, Billy being bff material, smut, light choking if you squint, fluff, Steve being a dummy, riding, oral (f receiving), cockwarming if you squint

A/N: was listening to Forever by Jessie Murph while writing this

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She didn’t really understand how she got to where she was. How she wound up in this position. Truth be told, she somewhat did, cons of asking Steve for a ride to the party. 

She would’ve expected him to wander off with Nancy, and do his own thing as usual while she would go join some of her friends for beer pong. She’d expect him to tell her when he and Nance were ready to head out, as she always made sure they got Y/N home okay. Y/N would also expect for him to let her know if he got her a backup ride in case they left before she wanted to. 

What she didn’t expect was to watch him storm away, eyes glossed with tears as pure anger set throughout his entire face, pushing past the people in the crowd. Her gaze dropped and frowning as she gulped another sip of her beer. “Steve?” Y/N called out towards his direction. 

She followed when he didn’t even so much as acknowledge her, setting her cup somewhere on some random table, the music going to a soft hum as she stepped outside. “Steve, where are you going? What happened?” she calls out, watching him unlock his car. He still said nothing as he clenched his jaw. 

“Steve?” she says once more, rushing down the yard as he started up his engine. “Steve!” her voice rises as he begins to drive off without her. Y/N lets out a few curse words as she flips off his car while it sped down the street. 

She tried searching for Nancy when she got back inside, only to find her being carried out by Jonathan, explaining she was drunk off of her ass. She nods, thanking him while letting out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. When Jonathan offered her a ride, she politely declined, saying she would ask one of her friends to bring her back. Explaining that he should worry about getting Nancy home safely. 

Which now led her to where she stood on the porch, drink in hand as she let out a frustrated huff. Her friends had all been long gone by the time she tracked down one of their boyfriends, stating how they were all planning to stay put for the night. She usually would’ve stuck with that idea, but she had to be home to bring Dustin to Mike’s the next morning.

“The party’s inside, sweetheart,” a voice chuckles behind her, making her roll her eyes. 

She didn’t have to turn around to know who the voice belonged to. “Too overstimulating, and I’m trying to sober up enough to walk home.”

Billy Hargrove takes a seat next to her, cigarette in hand as he blows out a puff of smoke. “Thought King Steve was your chauffeur,” he snorted. “At least I see you following him like a lost puppy. How does Nancy not hate that?”

Y/N scoffs. “I do not follow him around like that. We’re best friends, and on top of that, they both want me to stay close by in case we need to leave. So don’t act all snarky, Hargrove.”

Billy lets out a loud laugh, taking in another drag. “I’m just saying,” he starts. “You’re a little obvious for how in love you are with Harrington. Maybe back off a bit, or better yet, leave the guy be.”

Y/N’s gaze snaps toward him, glaring hard. “What the fuck are you on, Hargrove?” she snaps, watching his eyebrows raise as his smirk widens. 

“Struck a nerve, have I?” 

“You’re being ridiculous.”

He purses his lips while shaking his head. “Not a bit,” he takes another drag. “But he’s gotta watch his own actions before Nancy realizes he loves you too.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at his words. 

“What are you talking about?” she snips, and he shrugs as he stands up, blowing out the last of his cigarette. 

He turns back to her, holding out his hands for her to take. “I’m gonna head home, I’ll drop you on the way.”

“I’d rather take another gulp of whatever is in Tommy’s mystery punch bowl than ride anywhere with you,” she scoffs, Billy rolling his eyes as he lets out a huff. 

“It’s the least I can do for being an ass-”

“You’re always an ass-”

“Are you always this much of a fucking headache, Henderson?” 

Y/N just stares up at him in shock at his tone, watching as he stands in front of her with his hands on his hips. She then sighs, crossing her arms. “You’ve been drinking, Billy.”

He purses his lips once more with a smirk, shaking his head lightly. “I can take more than you think, honey. I am sober enough to drive with my eyes closed if I wanted to.”

She eyes him once more before taking his hands he then offers her once more, Billy helping her stand upright as he leads her to his car. He even opened up the passenger side for her, closing it once she was inside. 

The engine revved to life, Billy giving her a smug expression before he sped off into the night. 

It was quiet for the first few moments, Y/N’s gaze looking out the window with her hands picking at one another in her lap. 

“So what is it about King Steve that makes you so obsessed with him? Let alone every girl I’ve met at that shit school of yours?” he starts up, making her groan and shake her head. “He seems like he’s so up his own ass, you can see his head coming up his throat.”

“Oh fuck off, you’re just as cocky. I don’t even know what you’re talking about, just let it go.”

He tuts. “Nope, I’m driving you home so I deserve to know what it is. You owe me that.”

“I’d rather jump out of the moving car-”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Well you’re wrong.”

Billy grabs her jaw to make her look at him as they rolled up to a stoplight. “Am I? Because it seems like you can’t see how you stare at him like he hung the moon.”

His tone is a bit more serious, nothing playful whatsoever as he looks at her, her eyes deflating as she sighs. She takes his hand off of her when the light turns green, rubbing her face in exhaustion. “There’s a lot to it,” she admits. “But he’s just always been there. Even in the worst circumstances, I’ve never had to question if he would be there for me. Even for my brother, he’s there at the drop of a dime.”

“Seems like tonight was the opposite.”

She rolled her eyes before sending him a scowl. “Something happened, so he probably needed to be alone. I get that way too when things happen. I’m gonna give him his space if so,” she explains, Billy snickering at her words. 

“Wow you really are down bad, sweetheart,” he jokes. “Here I thought I’d be able to woo you somehow.”

“Not like I’d give you the time of day, Hargrove. That dick of yours has been in every girl known at Hawkins high school,” she shot back with a chuckle, watching as his jaw dropped lightly at her words. He puts a hand to his chest as he acts hurt playfully. 

“Well played, Henderson. I’ll give you that,” he laughs, making her smile at him in amusement. “I like you, you’ve got some spunk to you.”

“You think I do, you should hear half the things my brother says.”

“Ah yes, the famous Dustin Henderson. I know all about that kid and his little shits of a friendgroup.”

She narrows her eyes and smacks his arm, making him hiss. “They’re good kids. Don’t you dare start.”

“They cause my sister to get into trouble, which causes me to get into trouble with our parents.”

“Well from now on if she goes off, you can tell your parents she’s with Dustin at my house. Have them call me and I’ll happily help you out. That way you don’t have to cancel any hookups of yours,” she jokes. “Fair trade?”

He rolls his eyes. “Noted.”

He pulled into her driveway, Y/N opening the door to step out, only for him to say her name softly. She bends down to look at him in the low car. 

“Don’t wait around for a guy that’ll make you his second choice.”

She bit her lip. “He’s not like that.”

Billy gives her a look. “If you need help with igniting the fire, give me a ring.”

She laughs before closing his car door, waving goodbye as she begins to walk back to her doorstep. 

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It was the next morning, and Y/N had been stressing at the fact that she knew Steve was coming to pick her up this morning. She didn’t really want to deal with the awkward tension right away in that car, especially if things went down between him and Nancy. 

She hesitated picking up the phone in the kitchen, dialing the number written down on a piece of gum wrapper from the night before. Her fingers slowly dialed the numbers into the keypad, biting her bottom lip as she held the phoneline to her ear. It didn’t ring for long, someone picking up the landline after a couple rings. “Hargrove residence, who’s calling?” a smaller voice, that didn’t take long for Y/N to know it was Max. She smiles softly to herself. 

“Hey Max, it’s Y/N. I know this is going to sound weird, but is Billy there? He gave me a ride home last night, and I had to ask him something.”

She hears Max chuckle on the other line. “What in the world did you get yourself into last night?” she jokes, making Y/N run a hand over her face. “I swear it’s not what it sounds like. Steve ditched me, and Billy was nice to just give me a ride home.”

“If you say so,” Max snickered. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to lose you because my brother is an asshole.”

“It’s not like that, but I’ve got it.”

There’s some rummaging on the other side for a few moments, before it was just quiet for a small second. Bily’s voice booming through the phone softly. “Well if it isn't a little miss lovergirl. You change your mind?”

“Very funny,” she chuckles dryly, twisting the phoneline between her fingertips. “I really don’t want to be stuck in that awkward tension with him this morning. Are you able to pick me up?”

It’s quiet for a few seconds, Y/N shaking her head to herself before rubbing her forehead. “It’s fine if not,” she says quickly. “I will just walk if anything. I just cannot deal with all of that first thing in the morning.” 

Billy hums for a second, leaning against the doorway with a smug look on his face. “Now what kind of gentleman would I be to let a girl walk to school, hm? Especially if it’s the one that’s going to cause Harrington a hard time?” he jokes back, making her roll her eyes. 

“I’ll just walk at this point-”

“Okay, alright fine. Sorry. Yes I’ll be there in a few. Hang tight.”

With that the line clicks, and Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She finishes up her morning routine and eats breakfast with Dustin across from one another. 

As she is finishing up putting her dish in the sink, a car honks outside and it makes her freeze. Dustin eyes her with a confused look. “That’s not Steve’s car,” he says matter of factly. Y/N shuts her eyes for a second before huffing. 

“Don’t worry about it.”

Dustin smirks. “Oh I’m not worried,” he says slyly. “But Steve might.”

She shrugs. “Not my problem,” she mumbles before grabbing her bag, and going to give him a small hug. “Stay out of trouble today, please? Or at least wait till I’m home to go back into the woods.”

Dustin rolls his eyes, and nods. “No promises.”

With that she walks out the door, and looks up to see Billy’s car pulled up. Max is in the passenger seat, her smile widening at the sight of Y/N. Billy pushes Max’s arm, making her snap her head back at him with a glare. He nods to the backseat, making her huff and slide to the back. 

Y/N smiles down at Max as she opens the car door to get inside. “Well good morning Maxine,” she chuckles. 

Max smiles as Y/N hops into the passenger seat in front of her, squeezing her shoulders once she is inside. Once the door is shut, Billy sped off without warning, making both girls hold onto some part of the car while he laughs. 

“Thank you,” Y/N says after a bit of driving. “For last night, and this morning. I mean.”

Billy shrugs. “Anything to make Harrington shake in his boots, I’m for it.”

She narrows her eyes while crossing her arms. “Is that all you’re keen on doing? To take some stupid title in the school that’s his?” she shoots, shaking her head. “If that’s your goal, you really have a low satisfaction line. Which is kind of sad.”

“That’s how he is,” Max sighs, making Billy glare at her through the rearview. 

“Shut up, Max.”

“You’re not going to be an ass to her, not while I’m around. Especially if she’s right,” Y/N cuts in, making Billy roll his eyes. 

“You sure have some spunk to you, don’t you princess?”

She grimaces at the nickname, smacking his arm. “Never that. Disgusting.”

“Okay fine,” he huffs. “No, I’m not just doing it to get on Harrington’s nerves. It is fun, yes, but I’m also doing it because I didn’t think you deserved to be ditched like that. I may be an asshole and go through girls like I do, but I’m not past letting a girl get left like that.”

Y/N raised her brows in shock at his words, but nodded slowly. “I don’t know how that really cancels out with how you treat women, but I guess that’s nice? Of you?” she trails off, not missing the way Max holds in a snort. Y/N trying to hide a smirk herself, and Billy eyes her. 

“I’m half tempted to make you walk the rest of the way.”

“Do it, then. I said I was fine walking.”

Billy huffs out a laugh, turning down the street as the school comes to view slowly. “You really are a little shit like your brother.”

“If that’s what you think, then sure,” she shot back, not missing the way he coughs over a snort leaving his lips. 

Y/N had a few side conversations with Billy after that throughout the schoolday, only when they walked past one another in the school’s hallways. Or if they were in the same class, he would come sit next to her instead, and just talk to her. Nothing more than platonic, Billy enjoying having a girl that didn’t want him just to say she had him, but because she actually wanted to be his friend. 

The bell rang, signalling that second period was over. Y/N grabbing her books as she headed to her locker. She put away her history books and grabbed her things for physics, shutting her locker and jumped at the sight of Steve coming to view behind it. She held a hand up to her chest, letting out a breath. “Fuck, Steve,” she sighs. “You can’t just show up like that unannounced.”

Steve is looking at her with a hardened face, but his eyes are soft as he crosses his arms. “I showed up to your place this morning, Dustin said you were already gone. I was almost late to school. Where were you?” he asked her, making her eyes flick away from his. She tightened her grip on her books. 

“I’m gonna be late for physics,” she mutters before trying to breeze past him. Steve grabs her arm and turns her back to him. Y/N’s eyebrows furrow, looking at where his hand was and then back up into his eyes. “Steve I have a test this period, I can’t be late-”

“Where were you this morning?”

Y/N sighs. “You now care? It seemed quite the opposite last night,” she shot, making his face drop. 

“I was upset about the fight that happened between Nance and I. I just needed to get out of there,” he sighs, his voice getting quieter after each word he spoke. Y/N looked between his eyes. “I also just thought you’d be able to get a ride home from Tina or Rachel. So I didn’t really think about it after that.”

“Well then there you go. One of them picked me up this morning. End of story.”

Steve looks straight through her and frowns. “They’re not here today. Too hungover,” he shot back, Y/N snatching her arm away from his grip. 

“Well either way I got home, okay? Just leave it alone.”

“Y/N-”

“I’ve gotta go Steve.”

She turns to walk away, only stuttering in her steps slightly when she sees Billy walking by. Based on the look on his face, he had seen the interaction and gave her a questioning look as if asking if she was okay. She nods curtly before breezing past him, taking a sharp turn down the hallway towards the labs.

Billy’s face turns back to Steve, he doesn’t miss the way Steve’s expression hardens at the small interaction he had with his best friend. Billy gave him a snide smirk before walking off, patting his chest when he passed. He was going to get under Steve’s skin if it was the last thing he did. 

After Billy found out through Tommy and Carol that Steve and Nancy had gotten into a fight, pretty much breaking up at the party, he was going to get Steve to crack. He was going to make sure he pissed Steve off in every way possible, to the point he finally realized how much he wanted Y/N too. 

At least, if Y/N wasn’t going to do it, Billy was going to do it. In the most menace way possible. 

Especially when lunchtime came, he noticed Y/N was sitting at the familiar table that their entire group sat at, his eyes seeing Steve was still getting his food at the lunch line. Billy made his way over, sitting right next to her, leaning his elbow on the table causing her to jump at his sudden figure next to her. 

She smacked his chest. “You cannot sneak up on a girl like that, Hargrove!” she hissed, wiping her mouth with a napkin. He smiles widely at her. 

“When’s your free period?” he asked her, and she hummed while thinking and taking a bite of her food. 

“Fifth, why?”

He leans toward her. “You should come sit in the gym for a bit. Watch me humble your little boyfriend for a change.”

She eyes him. “This again?” 

He chuckles with a shrug. “I just want to push his buttons a little. I think you’d enjoy that after he ditched you after the Halloween party.”

“I already told you, he and Nance had a nasty fight. He apologized after that.”

Billy hums with a smug grin. “I think it still would be fun to watch, no? Come on,” he trails off, making her grimace. 

“Fine. But only because I couldn’t reserve the study hall in the library.”

“Good,” he says before standing up, his eyes immediately meeting Steve’s, who was glaring straight through him as he watched the boy slowly stand from the spot next to her. 

“Harrington,” Billy scoffs smugly. Steve’s eyes furrowed. “Wrong table, Hargrove.”

“It’s not if Henderson’s at it.”

Steve sets his tray down next to Y/N, the spot where Billy once sat, before standing over Billy 

“Back. Off,” he says. “She’s not the next girl on your list, so move to the next will you?”

Y/N frowns, putting a hand on Steve's arm. “Steve, leave it be,” she says, only for him to still look at Billy. Billy’s smirk just widens as he eyes Steve up and down. He looks at Y/N, eyebrows raising. 

She gives him a look as if telling him to knock it off as well, watching his eyes roll while he chuckles. He puts his hands up in defense, before pointing at her for a minute. “I’ll see you during fifth,” he chuckles. With that, he walks off, Steve huffing before slumping into the seat next to hers. She looks at him with an amused look, watching as he looks at her and rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t start,” he says with a sigh, she snorts. 

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“He’s harmless. Just being nice, that’s all.”

Steve looks at her with a look. “He’s being nice out of the blue? Yeah, he wants you, honey. You’re one of the girls on that long list of his.”

“Okay, don’t be an ass,” she groans, rubbing her hand over her face. “I’m still pissed at you, so you have no right.”

He shook his head. “I’m not trying to be, I swear. I just,” he sighs. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You deserve someone better than that jackass.”

Y/N’s eyes still at his words. “Steve, I’m not interested in him. He’s really just being friendly, that’s all. Nothing more, I made sure to vocalize that.”

He eyes her before letting it go, nodding before taking a bite of his food. “How did you even cross paths?” he asks her, making her shrug. She hadn’t told him that Billy was the one who drove her home that night, knowing he was already having a hard time with what happened that night with Nance. The last thing she needed was for him to flip out on hearing she was seen leaving with Hargrove that night. 

“Just one of the classes we have together. We were partners for something in Physics, so now we’re just friendly.”

He snorts. “I’ve never known that guy to be nice to a woman unless he wanted something else.”

“Steve.”

He eyes her, before huffing. “Okay fine, I’m sorry. I know I don't have the right to worry, but I do,” he says. “I’m also sorry. About last night. You didn’t do anything, and you would’ve just been there to let me rant about what happened.”

Y/N nods, her chest tightening at his words. “I get that you needed time, but you could’ve just said that as you were leaving. You left without a word as if I did something,” she explains. “I mean it’s not that big of a deal to me anymore, because I’ve literally been in those woods at night after being chased by those creature things, but it hurts because of how you left.”

Steve’s gaze softens as he stares into her eyes. “I didn’t think. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you, okay?”  

“You don’t need to make up for it. Just don’t shut me out,” she says, and he nods. 

“So about Hargrove-”

“Steven.”

“Right, dropping it. Sorry.”

Fifth period came a lot quicker than she thought, not taking much time to grab her things to bring to the gymnasium. She saw that the guys were all already there, warming up for their game of Basketball, while she walked up to the bleachers to take a seat. She unpacks some of her homework, knowing it was better to get it done now rather than wait. 

She nearly had to roll her eyes when she saw the giant smile on Billy’s face, seeing he wasn’t wearing his shirt, panting as they positioned themselves for the next ball drop. Steve’s eyes followed Billy’s, gaze hardening as he saw Y/N sitting in the stands, her face lightly red as she rolled her eyes at Billy. He turned back to eye Billy. 

“You can’t just leave her be, can you, Hargrove?” he scoffs, panting as sweat rolls down his neck. 

Billy shrugs, playing into it. “It’s fun when you want something you can’t have.”

Steve’s insides burn at his comment, zoning in as the game starts off not too long after. 

Each time Y/N pulled her eyes up to watch the boys, she noticed how Steve and Billy were always on each other. She watches as Steve runs up on Billy, ball in hand as Billy guards up against him. 

She can see that they’re exchanging words, but not for long because Billy then snatches the ball from him, going down the court to score. Billy stuck his tongue out smugly, panting and sweating as he eyed Steve in amusement, before going to wink at Y/N. Before Steve can say another word, he hears his name, causing him to turn and see Nancy. 

Y/N’s heart clenches just slightly, not missing how easy Steve followed after her, Y/N’s eyes following the pair. Billy’s eyes leave the pair that exit the gym, his eyes softening as he sees Y/N’s longing stare at where the couple once stood. He felt his anger burn for her, knowing she was so into Steve that it hurt her. No matter how much she denied it. 

He continued to play, anger radiating off of him as he creamed their team without Steve. One of his teammates had to exit the gym to go grab Steve as they got dominated by Billy.

When Steve came back in, he looked more pissed off than he did before, putting everything into his game that he could. Y/N knew something bad must’ve happened, based on how hard he was pushing up against his opponents. He was panting so hard she was convinced he would pass out.

The whistle blew soon after the excruciating game, Y/N having to prevent herself from wincing at the scoreboard. 

She began to pack up her stuff, zipping up her bag as she made her way down the bleachers. Her eyes caught Steve’s, frowning at his expression. He looked like he was trying to zone out, wiping a towel across his face as he breathed heavily. “Steve?” she called, walking over to him. 

“What happened? You okay?” she asks, walking with him as he goes to grab his water bottle. He hums while squirting water into his mouth. 

“I saw Nance walk in-”

“Please don’t. Not right now,” he says, walking off towards the locker rooms. She turns to him with her eyebrows furrowed. “Do you want to go for a drive after school to talk about it?” she asks, and he shakes his head turning to look at her. 

“You’re going to have to find another ride home. I’ve gotta stay here for tutoring tonight.”

“Again? You’re shutting me out? We just talked about this,” she says, and Steve looks down at her as his figure towers over her. He kissed her forehead softly. With that, he heads into the locker room, making her chest tighten just slightly. Billy’s hand comes up to her arm, squeezing softly. 

“You okay?” he asks, and she nods. 

“I just hate how he does this. He shuts me out when things go wrong.”

He takes another gulp of his water. “You want a ride home?” 

She shook her head. “No, I’ll just walk. I’ve got to wait for Dustin anyways.”

He hesitates slightly, before nodding. She nods at him. “Besides I know how much you’ve been looking forward to this study date with Heather tonight. Just go, I’ll be fine,” she assures, making him purse his lips before squeezing her arm one last time and heading to the men' s locker rooms.

The walk home was nice for her, as she and Dustin talked about everything he figured out for what’s going on with Dart, his new animal friend he found in their trashcan. Saying how he’s going to take him to the school tomorrow to see if anyone can figure out what he is. 

Once they had gotten home, Y/N had immediately set to the bathroom to take a shower, rinse off the last few days as she let her thoughts run. 

She sighed as she dries off and throws on her pajamas, hanging up her towel. She hears a knock on the door, she opens it slightly. Dustin looks at her sheepishly. 

“Mom’s going to sleep early tonight, and I need to get to Max’s. Can you drive me?” he asks her, she groans. 

“Did she say I could take her car?” she asks, and he nods. “Yeah, just- give me a second.”

“If anything you can stop at Steve’s on the way back. I heard Mike say that he and Nance broke up. He’s taking it pretty hard.”

She froze slightly, but rolled her eyes while throwing on her sweats instead of her shorts. “You guys need to stay out of their business.”

He snickers. “You know about it all too, so you’re just as nosey.”

She shook her head as she grabbed the keys from his hand. “I actually didn't. Steve has shut me out since it happened,” she admits, walking out to the car. “That’s why I’ve been getting rides from someone else.”

“You mean Billy?” Dustin shot, making Y/N halt in her tracks. Her head snaps back at him, she lets her eyes shut with a groan. 

“Max,” she says more to herself, Dustin nodding as he packs up his bag. 

“You need to be careful with that douchebag. He’s not good company to keep,” he explains. “At least that’s what Max says. Has a new girl with him every second of the day.”

Y/N squints at him. “I don’t want Billy. Just because he’s nice to me, doesn’t mean he has my attention,” she explains. “Besides. I’m already stuck on someone else. I couldn’t get over them if I tried.”

“Steve wants you too, you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not this again-”

Dustin frowns as he opens his car door. “You’re his best friend, how has he not said anything?”

She shrugs. “He needs his space if it’s as bad as I think it is.”

“Or maybe he’s finally coming to the realization he’s in love with you.”

“Dustin!” 

“What? It’s true!”

She rolls her eyes. “At least that’s what Nancy thinks. Said something about how he can’t fully commit. She thinks it’s because he’s obsessed with you.”

She palms her face. “Okay enough, stop eavesdropping on Nancy’s phone calls. I’ll tell her you’ve been listening next time.”

His eyes widened, only nodding before changing the subject about something Mr.Clark was teaching currently. Only, Y/N’s mind couldn’t focus as she thought about if that was really true. Her thoughts threw a million questions around her mind as her brother rambled. 

Once she pulled into the driveway, she put the car in park and told Dustin to call her if he needed her to come get him. Knowing full well he would get back in one piece after everything that happened before El disappeared. 

She pulled out of the driveway, beginning her trek home, her mind going to wander back to Steve. More so back to what her brother was saying earlier. He had to be wrong. Had to have heard the conversation wrong, right? Because she knew how in love he was with Nancy. He only told her more than one hundred times. Each time aching more than the last. 

Y/N was sure he heard it wrong, not bothering to think much more about it as she drove back home quietly. 

Once she got home, she could hear her mom’s wave machine going, meaning she was passed out. She set the keys on the table before trudging to her room, closing the door behind her. 

She walked up to her phone, taking in a deep breath before raising the handle up to her face and dialing in Steve’s number. She wanted to check in, see if he was okay despite him shutting her out. 

The line began to ring as she played with the cord, biting her lip as she waited. It seemed as though it rang forever, making her sigh. She knew he was home by now, but he was choosing to not answer. It went to the answering machine shortly after. 

“Steve,” she says softly. “I know you’re hurting, and that you’re shutting down. But don’t shut me out, I want to help you. Whatever happened, I’m here to listen,” she says firmly. “But if you really want space, I'll give you your space. I just hope you’re okay.”

With that, she hung up the phone, and went to sit in her bed. 

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The next day wasn’t much better, as he was now avoiding her almost completely. Instead of prying, she chose to let it be, knowing he needed the space. She ended up walking to school that morning, only to get an earful from Billy, saying he would’ve happily stopped by to grab her again. She didn’t argue, as she was too exhausted to do so. 

When lunchtime came, she saw him sitting at their table, making her eyes light up slightly. She began to walk over to him, going to sit in her normal spot. When she set her tray down, he immediately grabbed his own and began to walk away from her. She frowned at his behavior, her eyes burning slightly as tears lightly formed. She blinked them away. 

Y/N didn’t notice how Billy had watched the encounter, how he had noticed them all morning. He walked over to sit with her, telling her to come sit in the gym once more during fifth period, in which she nodded. 

She asked him how it went with Heather the night before, letting him ramble about it to distract her from the ache in her chest. 

When fifth period came, the boys were playing much harder than they had the day before, Y/N was writing down her notes as she heard yelling. She looked up, watching Billy yell out King Steve as he dribbled the ball. She watched the banter. “I like it. Acting tough today,” he plays. 

Steve rolls his eyes, guarding Billy. “Jeez, do you ever stop talking man? Come on,” he ushers back in a snippy tone. Billy just laughs as he dribbles the ball. “Why? You afraid coach is going to bench you now that I’m here, huh?” he pushes, watching the fire in Steve’s eyes ignite. With that, he pushes forward and checks Steve with ease, causing Steve to land on the ground with a loud thump and screech on the gym floor. She stood up like a reflex, shock written all over her face. She doesn’t miss the way he goes back over to Steve, lending down a hand. 

Steve glares at Billy, but takes his hand. “Or are you more afraid I’m going to take the one girl you’re too afraid to admit you couldn’t commit to Wheeler for?” he taunts, watching as Steve’s eyes harden. “You’re moving your feet. Plant them next time. Draw a charge,” he growls, before slamming Steve back into the ground and walking away to cheer with his teammates. 

He slowly straightens up, his eyes going over to the bleachers where he spots Y/N. She’s looking at him with both confusion and concern in her eyes, he doesn’t say anything, only looks away and gets back up to join his own team. 

Y/N’s heart aches as he goes back to acting like she’s just another person in the gym, slowly going to sit back down. 

Steve goes to guard Billy again, his eyes so harsh, they could’ve put Billy six feet under if looks could kill. “You’re not going to touch her. You’re gonna stay away from her,” he snaps, watching as Billy gets the ball passed to him. 

Billy laughs at his words, expression smug. “Careful. You almost sound territorial,” he snickers. “Besides, if I wanted her. I’d have her already. But she’s too stuck on the only guy who takes her for granted.”

Steve charges after him at that, playing as hard as he can the rest of the class period. 

When the whistle blows, Y/N is quick to grab her things and leave. Not wanting to stick around after what she witnessed, and knowing she also needed to get ready to take her test after school ended. 

The boys headed to the locker rooms to shower, Steve letting the water wash away every ounce of anger he had towards Billy. Only to huff when he knew it wasn’t going to work. 

“Don’t sweat it Harrington. Today’s just not your day, man,” Billy says in the stall next to him.

“Not your week, more so,” Tommy chuckles with a smug smirk on his face. “You and your princess break it off for one day, and she’s already running off with the freak’s brother,” he says, making Steve look at him with light confusion before looking away. 

Tommy’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh shit,” he says. “You don’t know. Jonathan and the princess skipped yesterday, and still haven’t shown. That must just be a coincidence, right?” he cackles, Steve eyeing him, scrubbing the suds through his scalp.

“I don’t give a fuck about them. He can have her for all I care,” Steve snaps back, scrubbing his hands through his hair. Billy smirks with a hum. 

“Oh I know,” he trails off. “You finally come to your senses over your Henderson girl, right? I hear she’s the reason you hate commitment. Because you want to commit to her, is that it?” Billy taunts, letting the water run down his chest. 

Steve scoffs and shakes his head, paying no mind to what either man was saying. “You don’t know her like that.”

“Oh, yes I do. I know a lot more than you think.”

Steve froze in his spot, his head slowly turning over towards Billy. “The fuck did you say?”

Tommy laughs, giving Billy a look. “You better tell him before he finds out through someone else, Hargrove,” he says, before grabbing his towel and turning off the shower. 

His words make Steve freeze. “What’re you talking about?”

Tommy wraps his towel around his waist. “Wow you really have been out of the loop,” he trails off, nodding his head at Billy. “She left with him after the Halloween party. Why do you think they’ve been so inseparable? Girl can’t get enough of him.” 

Billy glares at Tommy. “Goodbye Tommy,” he snaps back, watching the guy walk away with a smug grin on his face. Steve’s jaw was clenched, his eyes darkening as he looked over at Billy. 

“Relax, Harrington,” he chuckles. “Since some dick I know left her by herself that night, I was a gentleman and drove her home,” he admits, smirking happily. “You’re lucky she’s so obsessed with you, otherwise I definitely would’ve taken her back with me, and trust me,” he chuckles while turning off the shower, patting Steve on the shoulder. “I’m still debating.”

Steve eyed him hard as he left, whipping off his own shower head. 

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Y/N had finished up her test, smiling warmly at her teacher as she handed it in, bidding a goodnight as she left the classroom. The halls were now quiet as it was after school hours, the rain slowly beginning to dribble outside as she could hear the echoes of other students playing in the gyms. 

When she opened up the school doors, the breeze had gotten a little chillier, goosebumps arising on her skin as she walked down the sidewalk. The rain slowly picked up as she walked, making her put her hood up.

Her eyes squinted as she noticed Steve’s car was still there, making her frown. She then froze only slightly as he stood, leaning against the hood with his arms crossed. He looked more than upset. He looked livid. “Steve? Why are you still at school? I thought you didn’t have tutoring tonight.”

“Get in the car.”

She frowns at his cold tone the closer she got. She shook her head. 

“No. Not after how you’ve been treating me lately,” she shot back, walking up to him. He clenched his jaw as the rain began to get heavier. He towered her figure, eyes staring down into her own. “I have to wait for Dustin too.”

“He went home with Mike,” he answered quickly. “Get. In. The car,” he says once more. 

Instead of prying, she huffs and walks over to the passenger side where he goes to hold open the car door for her, letting her slide in. As he closes her door and rounds to his side, she sets her bag on the floor in the back. He slams his door shut before reversing out of the parking lot, and driving off. 

“Why are you so pissed off? What did I do to you to make you hate me so much in the span of seventy-two hours?” she finally breaks the silence, her arms crossing over her chest as the rain poured.

His jaw tightens at her words, hand rubbing over his jaw. “I don’t hate you.”

“Then why are you acting like a dick? All I’ve been trying to do is help you, and you act like I don’t exist,” she scoffs as she keeps her gaze on the window. “I don’t know what happened between you and Nance, but I’m just trying to be there for you.”

He stays silent for a few moments, and then speaks. “We broke up. Things were complicated and she said things between us weren’t going anywhere.” 

“You could’ve just talked to me, you didn’t have to shut me out. I would’ve listened,” she says in a softer manner. Still somewhat firm to show she was standing her ground.

“It seems you had your hands full with Hargrove anyways,” he says under his breath, but it was loud enough for her to hear. She snapped her head over to him. 

“What?”

“You really took a ride home from Billy Hargove? Of all people? Seriously?”

She scoffs. “I wouldn’t have needed to if you didn’t run off like you did! Besides, he offered and was actually nice to me the entire way,” she explains, running her hands through her hair. “You have no right to be upset. You’re the one ignoring me and acting all big macho whenever he’s around.”

“Is he the one who’s been picking you up too? Bringing you home even?” he shot, making her roll her eyes. 

“You’re a fucking ass. Why are you so obsessed with this guy?”

“Because he’s not good for you! He wants to fuck you, and then leave you for the streets! You’re nothing but a piece of pussy to that man!” he blows up, making her eyes harden and her eyebrows furrow. 

“Stop the car.”

“What-”

“Stop the fucking car, Harrington! I will not be scolded like I’m a fucking child by you! Stop the fucking car, so I can walk the rest of the way.”

Steve looks at her like she is crazy. “Are you kidding? It’s pouring-”

Y/N starts to unlock his car doors, going to pull open the lever as the car was still driving, causing Steve to slam on his brakes as she opened his car door. “Y/N seriously?” he screeches, getting out of the car to follow after her. “Get back in the car! You’re being ridiculous!”

“I’m not! You’re the one being an asshole, Harrington!” she yells back, not looking behind her. She hears him let out a frustrated groan before slamming his car doors shut, and his engine coming up to the side of her. He rolled down the window. 

“Get in the car, Y/N!”

She ignored his pleas, her body shivering as she was now drenched from the pouring rain. “Y/N M/N, get in the damn car before I make you,” he warns, letting out a low growl as she still looks forward and keeps walking. Steve brakes the car once again, opening his door and stomping up to her figure. 

Y/N feels arms wrap around her waist, despite her protests, she’s then thrown over Steve’s shoulder. “Put me the fuck down, Steve! What the fuck is your problem?” she screams out, punching at his lower back. 

“Seriously, let me down! I’m fuckign done with you and your bipolar fucking behavior-”

Her words die in her throat with a squeak as a loud smack is heard, a sting following on her ass a few moments after. She narrows her eyes. “Did you just-?” She trails off as he walks over to open his backseat doors. 

Steve softly places her figure into his back seats, ignoring her curses and shouts at him as he slams the door shut and gets back into the driver’s seat. He sped off after that, not missing the way she was sending daggers to the back of his head.

“I told you to get back in the car, and you didn’t listen.”

“Because you were treating me like shit, and started accusing me of sleeping with Billy. When all he’s been doing, is being a better friend than you. Nothing more than that.” she spat, crossing her arms over her shivering figure. Steve sighs, clenching his jaw at her words. Knowing deep down that she was right, he was being a total asshole to her. 

“Not when I feel how I feel about you. I can’t move on, even if I tried.”

He froze, his heart stopped for a split second at her words, realizing she had said it so quietly in hope he didn’t hear, but he heard her perfectly clear. 

All of his anger slowly washed away as her words repeated in his mind, realizing that Nancy was right. He couldn’t tell Nancy he loved her, not when Y/N had been here all along. No matter how hard he tried, he really tried to make things work with Nancy. But she knew it wasn’t meant to be.

Because he couldn’t control how strong his feelings were becoming towards Y/N. Nancy knew it too, she saw it when he didn’t. Which was why she couldn’t blame him. He did try. He couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Not after how things just ended with Nancy. He needed to see if what he felt for Y/N really was real, which was why he pushed away. Turns out it was more real than he ever knew or understood. Especially after hearing Billy’s words. 

“We’re going to mine,” is all he says, making her glare at him. 

“What? No, I’m drenched, I need to go home and-”

“I have stuff you can borrow, so stop whining. We need to actually talk,” he shot back, making her go quiet with her mouth open in shock. “No distractions, nothing. Because your brother will somehow bring us into the next adventure going on, and we need to figure our shit out.”

Y/N lets out a grumble, but doesn’t argue any further, the car was quiet the rest of the way to his place. 

Once he parked in his driveway, he grabbed both of their bags, then opened the door for her to get out. She whisks past him as he locks his car, the pair running up to take cover under the slight covering over his front doorstep. 

When they both got inside, the sound of the rain pattering hard over the roof was heard, as well as the light sounds of the occasional thunder booming. He sets down their stuff, huffing at his now drenched state, shrugging off his jacket. 

“You can shower in mine. I’ll use my parents.”

He leads them upstairs, grabbing her a towel and walking her into his room that she knew all too well. He hands her a pair of his sweats and a hoodie of his she always used to wear, before grabbing his own towel and heading towards his parents’ room without another word. 

She goes into his bathroom, looking around as she sees it’s still the same. It’s been a while since she has been here. Her having the decision that maybe they shouldn’t hang out like they used to when he started dating Nancy. She didn’t want Nancy to think otherwise, and knew it wouldn’t look right. 

Y/N let the shower run for a bit, letting it get warm as she stripped down her soaked clothes, a light shiver running down her spine. 

Once the steam had filled the bathroom, she stepped into the shower, the warm water cascaded down her back, making her let out a small hum in content at how good the warmth felt. She rinsed and washed up quietly as she let her thoughts linger as she rinsed her hair. 

She was too in her mind to hear the door open slowly, Steve closing it behind him as he saw her back turned away from his figure. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. Not after hearing what she said. He was sick of dancing around it. 

When he opened the glass door, Y/N jumped at the noise and turned towards him with eyes wide. “Steve? What’re you doing?” she asked softly, her voice sounding exhausted. Defeated. Steve said nothing, only closing it behind him and walking to her slowly. Y/N’s eyes followed his own as they took in her figure, then eyes softening as his eyes found her own. 

He stopped just inches in front of her, the water running over them both, Steve towering over her as he looked down at her. Her eyes staring between his own as his hand came up to her jaw to make her fully look up at him. 

He inched closer to her face with his own, their lips just millimeters away. Y/N’s hands stayed covering her chest, but slowly slid down in relaxation as their lips barely touched. 

Their eyes looking between one another for what felt like forever, Y/N looked back at Steve with one final nod. That’s all it took, and his lips slammed down onto hers. It was hungry, needy, passionate. Fire ignited between them both as their lips moved in sync. Tongues fighting and teeth clashing as their pants filled the air. 

Steve brought both of his hands to her hair, pulling her head back to let his lips openly trail from her lips, biting at the bottom one before going to her cheek, her jaw, and down her neck. Y/N’s eyes shut with absolute bliss at the feeling of his lips making contact with her hot skin. How his tongue poked out every so often, teeth biting at some spots. 

Her arms came up to his forearms when he found a sweet spot behind her ear, making him hum in satisfaction. Y/N had grown greedy, and in dire need of his lips on hers once more, making her grab his face from the spot in her neck to slam their lips back together. 

Steve’s hands trailed down from her hair, down her body, leaving sparks and fire in his trail as he touched her everywhere he could reach. 

He never realized how much he craved her until now. Now, he couldn’t live without her. He couldn’t live with the fact that any guy could have her like this. Could’ve been in his spot. He especially couldn’t stand the fact that Billy almost could’ve been in his place if he waited any longer. 

The thought alone made him grip her hips hard, making her whimper lightly in his mouth. He groaned as she bit his lip. They broke apart, just millimeters away from one another as he looked at her with a haze in his eyes. 

“I’m never letting you go now,” he muttered softly, leaving one hand on her hip while the other trailed to her belly button. He watched her lips hitch in a gasp at his touch. Her eyes were big and hazy as they looked up at him. The rain poured hard outside, being heard even through the shower running around them. “Not when I’ve got you like this. This is all I’ve ever wanted. I’ve always wanted you. That was the problem, honey.”

His hand trailed down her navel, just above where she needed to feel him most. Her insides burn with desire and need for Steve. 

“I couldn't stop thinking about you. Every second of every day,” he trails off, leaving soft kisses on her lips between his words. “You were always the one thing I came back to,” he hums, letting his hand finally cup her heat. He smirked lightly as he watched her eyes roll back as he let his fingers rub up and down her slit. 

“Steve.”

“Hm?” he says, letting his hand figure out what she liked, how she wanted, needed, to be touched. Her face would contort when he rubbed or flicked certain spots, making him bite his lip as she watched her lose any ounce of control she had. 

“Hargrove kept saying how he would take you like this. How he was debating on it,” he taunts, letting a finger slide in, Y/N let out a moan as her head fell onto his chest. He chuckled darkly as he felt her beginning to hump herself into his hand. “I kept thinking about that. Picturing. It pissed me off.”

She shook her head as her hand went to grasp at his wrist while he pumped his fingers in and out of her. “Never would’ve happened,” she moans. “I wouldn’t have let it happen.”

He takes his free hand from her hip and trails it up to her neck, causing her to look up at him. Her eyes are still lightly closed, light moans and whines leaving her lips. 

“You sure? It seemed like you enjoyed getting pretty friendly with Hargrove.”

She shook her head. “Only wanted you. I only want you.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he says softly, taking his fingers out of her, causing her to groan at the sudden loss of contact. “I wish I believed that,” he says, shaking his head. She frowned at his words, still dazed and confused at the fact he left her high and dry. 

She decided to push right back at his smugness. 

“Maybe I should. If you’re only going to leave me high and dry. I’ll let him finish your job.”

Steve’s eyes darkened at her words, causing him to turn off the water behind her, then grabbing both of her thighs to wrap around his hips. He walked them out to his bedroom, slamming her body onto his bed as he towered over her figure. 

“You and that mouth of yours are going to get you in trouble, honey.”

He spread her legs open, biting his lip as he tried to muster his groan, but failing miserably. 

“And here I was going to be nice and give you my tongue,” he tuts, before grabbing his dick and sliding it through her folds. “But after that little stunt you pulled, I’m not feeling so nice anymore.”

With that, Steve slams all the way into her. The pair both let out moans at the feeling, Y/N grabbing his hair in one hand while the other scratched down his back. Steve began to pump in and out of her fast and hard, lips and tongue busying themselves with her breasts as they bounced with every thrust. 

“Steve, please,” she whimpers at his pace. He looks up at her through his lashes, seeing how she  is biting her lip to keep from moaning louder. He releases her left nipple with a pop and leans down to kiss her hard. 

“Maybe if you fix that attitude of yours, I’ll take my time,” he groans into her mouth, capturing her moans in his own. “Fuck you the way I’ve been dying to. Nice and slow to show you how in love I am with you. You’d love that wouldn’t you?”

Y/N’s hand grips his hair to pull his head back to make him fully look at her. “Please, baby,” she moans out breathlessly, causing Steve to groan. She clenches around him tight, causing him to stutter his movements. Steve soon begins to slow down slightly, still hitting that spot inside of her that she loved oh so much. Her grip loosened on his head, both hands going to grab the headboard behind her as her back arched. Steve looked down at her in amazement, mouth open as he moaned out her name. 

“So fucking pretty, fuck,” he pants, taking her slower as his gaze falls to where they’re connected. He sees her hips grinding up to meet his own, making him bite his lip and grab them to meet his own with each thrust. “You’re fucking mine. Not Hargrove’s. I don’t share. Especially not when it comes to you.”

Y/N can feel the tightness in her stomach getting closer and closer with every thrust, causing her to look back at Steve who is so focused on watching him thrust in and out of her. 

“Steve I’m-”

“I know, I can feel it. Let go whenever, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

It didn’t take much for her after that, clenching and sputtering around him with a loud moan that followed with his name. Steve came shortly after, placing his lips over her own as his hips stuttered against her pelvis. When their lips broke apart, Steve’s head immediately went into her neck, kissing at her collarbone a few times as they lay there breathless. 

Y/N’s hand trailed from his shoulders, up into his hair. She didn’t miss how his body broke out into goosebumps from her touch. His breathing slowed moments later, his now softened cock still inside of her. She could feel him twitching again, hardening as she clenched around him each time he twitched. “Steve,” she moans softly, gripping his hair as she feels his tongue and teeth biting at the skin along her chest. 

“I need more,” he groans out against her breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth. She arches into his mouth more at the feeling. His hands pushed down her hips as she started to nonchalantly grind up against his hips, letting his own hips slowly thrust and grind into her. “Gonna go all night. I might just need to have you like this forever,” he moans into her nipple, before pulling away with a pop. Y/N grabs his head and pulls his lips back down to hers, his thrusts hard but slow. Moans getting louder between them both as Steve hit that one spot inside her that made her toes curl. 

Before Steve could react, Y/N had tightened her grip on him with her legs, turning them over with him still inside of her. She took his hands from her thighs and laced them with hers, pressing them into the mattress beside his head. 

Her eyes looking into his with such adoration and want in them. She began to grind into him, moans leaving her mouth as she bit her lip from being too loud. Steve looked up at her mesmerized, mouth agape as he takes in everything about how she looked on top of him. 

“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” he sighs, watching her throw her head back she grinded and bounced on him. 

She let go of his hands, bringing hers to lean back on his thighs as she worked her way on him. Steve’s hands immediately went to the crevice where her hips and thighs met. He gripped them in a bruising hold, guiding her every move as he met his hips with hers. “Fuck Steve,” she moans out, not missing the way he hit that spot inside her once again. 

“Nobody will ever get to see you like this, Never again,” he moans as he lets one hand slithering up her front, going to grip her neck in a tight enough hold for it to go to her head. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head at the feeling. “Not even Hargrove. This is mine.”

“Always has been,” she sighs while looking back down into his eyes. Their highs were coming closer than they did the first time, Steve pulling her down by her neck to meet her with a sloppy kiss. 

Both of their movements became faster and faster as the pit in their stomachs got tighter and tighter. “Let go baby. I’m right behind you,” Steve breathes out against her lips, her nodding against him before her hips stutter and stilled as she reaches high. Steve took over and thrusted up into her through both of their highs as Y/N fell forward onto his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, nails running through his hair. His hands trailing up and down her back as they lay there breathlessly. “This is gonna sting a bit,” he said first, before slowly pulling out of her. They both let out a loud hiss, Y/N followed with a slight whimper at the emptiness as she gripped his hair lightly. 

“You okay?” he hums against her, and she nods lightly. He chuckles. “We should probably clean up soon.”

She hums. “Soon. Just not yet,” she breathes out softly against his chest. 

“Oh no, I’m basking in this as long as I can,” he chuckles softly. She smiles against his chest at his words. “I’ve got you, and I will not be letting you go anytime soon.”

“So you like me?” she jokes, making him grab her jaw softly to look up at him. He looked at her like she had two heads. 

“I think we both know I’m way past liking you,” he admits, making her eyes soften at his words. His thumb caressed her skin softly. “It only took me how many years to come to my senses.”

“It took me being friends with Hargrove for you to come to your senses,” she shot, making him roll his eyes. 

“Whatever,” he laughs, making her snort. “He’s not gonna let up on this, you know. He will be giving you shit till the end of time for taking so long.”

Steve eyes her. “He really knew before I did? Ouch.”

She smacked his chest softly. “He figured it out, I didn’t have to say a word.”

“Well, I still don’t like how flirty he is with you. So he better knock that off,” he says slowly. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“How will you do that?”  

“Oh, honey we’ve got all night. I’ll make sure he knows to keep his hands off.”

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[iheartyouyou]

Locked Away | Steve Harrington

Chapter 1

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!hopper!reader

Word count: 3.1k

warnings: angst, fluff, steve is in his king steve era for season 1, slowburn like slow slow SLOW burn, overprotective hopper, mentions of cancer, mentions of death, mentions of blood, smut, cuss words, maybe more idk?

Summary: You’re Jim Hopper’s, Chief of Police, daughter. After a rough few years and a fresh start in Hawkins, your dad barely lets you out. Too scared to lose you. You’re homeschooled and the last time you stepped foot into a classroom was when you were 13. You somehow finally convince him to enroll you into Hawkins High but his worst nightmare comes true when you get involved with fighting Demogorgans, entering different dimensions, hiding a russian girl with super powers and more. Oh, and worst of all? You fall in love with a prick who has perfect hair.

Series Masterlist

Authors Note: Hi!! I’ve had this concept since season four came out and now that the show is finished i want to finally bring it to life! This will be a Hoppers daughter x Steve harrington show rewrite. So this will be all seasons (1 to 5)! Let me know what you think :)

You stand by the front door, backpack hanging heavy on one shoulder, fingers curled so tightly around the strap your knuckles ache. You anxiously bounce on your feet, each second getting quicker and quicker.

Your dad doesn’t say much anymore. He doesn’t need to. He just stands on the doorway, a beer in his hand.

“You don’t have to stay all day.” He says gruffly. “If it’s—“

“I know.” You interrupt, giving him a small smile.

You love your father. You really do but ever since… ever since your sister died he has been all in your bubble. He’s constantly worried, constantly paranoid, the ultimate reason why he wouldn’t let you go to an actual school. Spending his afternoons trying to teach you school subjects.

During the first few years of your life, it was just you and your father. You don’t know what happened to your mom. He refuses to talk about her but when you were around the age 5, he met a woman named Diane. You liked Diane, she became your mom and she took care of you and taught you about girls stuff such as periods, how to curl your hair, how to properly wash your hair, and more. Soon, she got pregnant and then came your baby sister: Sara.

You loved your sister. You always held her, always offered to help feed her or play with her. After so long, you were finally in a happy family.

And then Sara got cancer.

It wasn’t long before the cancer won. And an even shorter amount of time before Diane left you and your father in the dust, like you two were nothing to her.

Last you heard she got remarried and had another child. Who’s healthy and thriving. Fuck Diane.

Your father was so depressed he did what he only thought was right, moved the two of you back to his hometown. Hawkins, Indiana. He said he grew up here before he got drafted and that it was a small and quiet town; he couldn’t take anymore chaos.

He very quickly became the Chief but he never let you out of the house. Too protective and too scared that something was going to happen to you. Besides your father, the only people you talked to was the Byers family. Mrs. Byers was an old friend of your fathers who would babysit you occasionally when he worked nightshifts. You remember those nights being amazing, sleeping over and hanging out with her son Jonathan. Being Chief means having a flexible schedule, meaning no more sleepovers at the Byers house. It’s been years since you’ve talked to them.

And now, here you are, after months of convincing your father, now waiting for the school bus to come pick you up for your first day of school in years.

“Okay… if you need me to come pick you up, I will. Just go up to the principle and have them call the station. I’ll be there as soon as I can—“

“Dad, seriously, I’ll be okay.” You reassure, raising an eyebrow at him.

The bus rumbles into the view at the end of the street, loud and unmistakable. It’s vibrant yellow standing out.

“Gotta go.”

His head snaps to the bus, surprised and not blinking as he stared at it. He was hoping it just wouldn’t show up. He looks back at you. “Alright, just call if you need anything. I don’t care if I’m in a shootout I will come get you.”

You roll your eyes but not in a annoyed way, in a seriously way. “I will.”

Before he can say anything else you step forward and hug him. It’s quick, a little awkward, but tight. You press a kiss to his cheek and pull away before he can hold on too long.

“Be careful.” He says immediately. “You have that pocket knife on you?”

You sigh. “Yes dad, I have it.”

“Be safe.”

“I will.”

“Remember to call—“

“You’ve said it like three times. I know, call if I need anything.” And before he can protest, you slip out and skip down the steps. You give him a small wave before walking down to the bus.

He looks like he’s about to have a heart attack.

The bus doors hiss open as you reach it, the steps steep as you climb in. The driver barely acknowledges you, just jerking his head towards the aisle.

You move down the aisle, aware of the quiet shift around you. You don’t recognize a single face, kind of regretting all those nights where you begged to be put in school.

Someone near the middle whispers something and another person turns to look at you. Another girl two seats down leans towards her friend, covering her mouth like that makes it subtle. It doesn’t.

Is it the outfit you’re wearing? Your hair? Maybe your backpack? Your face? Did you look weird?

You find an empty seat towards the back, setting your backpack next to you. You look out the window as the bus pulls away from the curb, anxiousness and regret pooling towards the bottom of your stomach.

Hey, you can always call home?

Hawkins High stands in front of you, bigger up close. Brick walls, wide steps, the double sided door propped open. Cars went in and out of the parking lot, some are student drivers parking, others are parents dropping off their kids.

A few people look at you as you pass. Not everyone, most are too busy complaining about their schedules or are trying to find their friends. There’s a couple in front of a locker, eating each other’s faces off as if they haven’t seen each other in months.

You stop near the side of the hallway and dig into your backpack, fingers brushing past unused notebooks and folders until you find the folded paper.

Your schedule.

The school mailed them out around a week ago.

You continue walking, glancing up occasionally to match the numbers on the paper to the ones posted above the classroom doors.

You don’t notice the people in front of you until it’s too late.

You bump into someone solid, your shoulder knocking into a chest. Your schedule slips from your singer and flutters to the floor.

“Oh— I’m so sorry.” You say immediately, already crouching down to grab it.

A laugh erupts above you. Not loud or cruel, just amused. “Watch it.” They say. “You blind or something?”

You straighten and look up.

There’s three of them. A guy with nice hair and a jacket that looks expensive. Another one beside him, a little bit shorter, but smug-looking. And a girl leaning against a locker, chewing gum loudly and watching you like this is the most interesting thing that has happened all morning.

“Relax.” The guy with nice hair adds, holding his hands up slightly. “New?”

You nod. “I’m sorry— I wasn’t looking-“

The smug-looking one snorts. “Clearly.”

The girl looks you up and down, slow and unapologetic. Your hair. Your clothes. Your shoes. She pops a bubble. “Cute outfit. What is that, middle school?”

Your face heats up. You glance down instinctively, your sneakers, the denim jeans, and your light brown t-shirt with your favorite show that you watch with your dad every Friday night. He saw it while out of town and got it for you. You loved it.

“It’s just clothes.” You mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself subconsciously.

Nice hair raises an eyebrow, like he wasn’t expecting you to answer. “Hey, didn’t mean to offend you.” He says, though there’s a hint of a grin pulling at his mouth. “Just saying.”

Smug-looking leans closer to Nice hair. “She’s definitely a freshman.”

“Definitely.” The girl confirms, crossing her arms as she gives you one last look over. She looks disgusted.

You tighten your grip on your schedule. “I have class to get to.”

Nice hair steps aside, motioning down the hallways. “By all means, freshie.”

You slip past them without another word, walking faster than you were before and eyes now attentive. You can hear them laughing, feeling their eyes on you as they came up with more insults.

Your heart beats a little too fast. You feel humiliated. You just want to climb into the nearest trashcan and hide in there forever. Maybe you can call your dad?

No.

If he gets a call he would take that as a sign to pull you out again.

Suck it up.

You look down at your schedule. First period: English.

You find the room after circling the same hallway twice. You find a seat in the back, quickly taking it. This repeated for your first few classes, sitting alone in the back or front. Nobody bothered talking to you, everybody in their own little cliques.

It wasn’t until your fifth period that you found a familiar face.

You’d taken a wrong turn trying to find the science area and ended up by the gym, then the art rooms, and when you finally find the hall you’re supposed to be in the second bell has already rung.

Great.

You slip into the classroom as discreetly as you can. Chemistry. There’s lab tables scattered throughout the classroom with a large sink and table at the front of the room. The teacher stands behind it with a clipboard, eyeing you as you walk in.

There’s only one seat open, the one next to Jonathan Byers. He’s leaning over his notebook, hair falling in his face, pencil moving steadily. He looks older than you remember. Taller. Thinner.

What if he doesn’t remember you?

You take a seat next to him, pulling out your pencil and notebook as you tried your best to seem like you didn’t even realize it was him and well…he didn’t even look at you.

Not once did he look at you.

You just awkwardly sat next to him for 45 minutes as he was in his own world, doodling in his notebook and looking up occasionally to see what the teacher was talking about.

The bell rings and the scrape of chairs fills the room. You shove your notebook and pencil back into your bag a little too fast, standing before Jonathan even looks up. For a split second, you consider staying and seeing if he’ll recognize you. You decide against it, leaving.

The hallway is louder now, lockers are slamming, people are shouting and laughing. You follow the flow towards the cafeteria, stomach grumbling.

The cafeteria smells like fries and something undercooked. Trays clatter, lunch ladies are asking what flavor milk, and every table seems full as you step inside. You grab a tray anyways.

Theres way more cliques in here. Jocks, popular kids, cheerleaders, nerds, and kids you vaguely recognize from class, already settled in, already belonging.

You start walking, spotting an empty spot at the end of a table, then stop when someone slides a backpack into the seat without even looking at you.

“Sorry.” You mutter, even though nobody asked.

You circle around. Once. Then another time.

Your chest starts to feel a little tight, like the room is closing in just a little. You can feel eyes, probably not many, but enough that it makes your skin prickle with embarrassment.

You turn before more people can notice you.

After finding the nearest bathroom you step inside the furthest stall and lock the door. You awkwardly sit on the closed toilet lid, placing the tray on your thighs. You pick at the soggy pizza as you tears filled your eyes.

The house is quiet when you unlock the door. Your dad is still at work.

You drop your backpack by the door and kick your shoes off, letting them land wherever. The silence presses in, but it’s different than the school silence. This one is comfortable.

You rummage through the kitchen, finding a quick snack to bring to your room. Halfway there you falter, accidentally catching your reflection through the mirror in Hoppers room. The shirt sits loosely on your torso, it stares like it’s mocking you.

You grab the hem of the shirt, snatching it up and tugging it over your head in one quick motion. You look down at the shirt for a moment before balling it up in your hands and tossing it in the trash.

You groan quietly and roll out of bed, pulling on the first clean shirt you can find. When you shuffle into the kitchen, your dad is already there, spatula in hand as he makes pancakes.

“Morning, kid.” Hopper says, flipping a pancake.

“Morning.” You mumble, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you sit at the table.

He slides a plate of pancakes toward you, then turns to the trash can, lifting the lid to toss something away. He pauses.

You see it happen from the corner of your eye.

His hand stays frozen over the trash, eyes fixed on something inside. You don’t need to look to know what it is. Your shirt.

Hopper doesn’t say anything. He just stares a second longer than necessary, jaw tightening. Then he drops whatever he was holding onto and closes the lid.

He turns back to the stove like nothing happened.

You pick up the syrup, hands shaky as you pour it over your pancakes. You take a bite, staring at your dad as you tried to read him. It was always hard to figure out what he was feeling, he usually hid it or drank it away.

“I don’t like you taking the bus.” He says, opening the fridge. He scans through the items before grabbing a beer. “Too many people. And bus drivers… they’re weird.”

You glance up. “Dad—“

“So, I talked to Joyce.” He continues. “Jonathan’s gonna pick you up. He’s got a car.”

Your stomach flips. “… Jonathan?”

“Yeah.” He finally looks at you, softer this time. “He said he remembers you. Said it was fine.”

You nod slowly, staring out the window as you ate. Gosh, it was going to be so embarrassing and awkward. He remembers you? He didn’t even look in your direction during class. And now he has to drive you to school? What if he doesn’t even say anything?

After you’re done eating and getting ready, you’re back at the same spot by your door waiting anxiously. Your dad isn’t in the same spot though, he’s in his room doing something.

A car pulls up outside a few minutes later, tires crunching softly against the gravel.

You glance out the window and see Jonathan in the drivers seat. The car is a little beat up, paint dull but it wasn’t bad.

You sling your backpack over your shoulder and hesitate, fingers tightening around the strap like yesterday. Maybe if you don’t go outside he’ll just leave—

A knock rattles your thoughts.

Your heart jumps straight into your throat.

You stare at the doorknob for a second too long before forcing yourself to open it. Jonathan stands there with both hands shoved into the pockets of his pants, shoulders slightly hunched. He looks just as awkward as you feel. “Hey.” he says. His voice cracks a little. “Uh, your dad said to knock. I didn’t wanna— you know— just sit out there.”

There’s an awkward pause. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, glancing past you into the house.

“It’s okay.” You say, stepping aside. “I’m ready.”

He nods, relieved, and turns back towards the car. You lock the door behind you, the click echoing a little too loudly in the morning air.

Jonathan holds the passenger door open for you. “Here.”

“Thanks.” You murmur as you climb in, pulling your backpack in your lap.

He shuts the door and jogs around to the driver’s side, sliding in and starting the engine. For a moment, neither of you say anything. The radio stays off. The car hums beneath you.

“So,” Jonathan starts, clearing his throat. “Your dad said it was… your first year back?”

“Yeah.” You say quietly. “I was homeschooled for a while.”

He nods like that explains everything. “Yeah, I remember you telling me that when you would come over.”

Your head snaps to him. “I did?”

“Yup. I remember thinking you were so lucky. My mom says hi… by the way. She’s excited you’re back in school.”

Your lips twitch despite yourself. “I thought you didn’t remember me.”

He looks at you quickly. “Why not?”

You pause. Is it a good idea to bring up Chemistry? What if he embarrasses you?

“Uhm… I sit next to you in Chemistry.”

He blinks, eyebrows knitting together. “In Chemistry?” He repeats, glancing at you and then back at the road. “Wait— yesterday?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah. Fifth period.”

Jonathan’s grip tightens on the wheel. “Oh. Uh… shit.”

Your stomach drops.

“I— I didn’t even realize.” He says quickly, words tumbling over each other now. “I mean, I knew someone sat there, I just—“ He gestures vaguely with one hand before putting it back on the wheel. “People don’t usually sit next to me.”

And that was the exact moment you realized Jonathan wasn’t some jerk who didn’t remember you. He was a loner with no friends. He remembered you because you were one of the first girls who talked to him without being grossed out. You two became best friends.

A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Waiting for Jonathan doesn’t feel scary anymore. It just feels annoying.

You sit on the front steps, binder on your lap. You stopped bringing a backpack to school, it felt unnecessary and made your back hurt.

You glance down the street for the hundredth time.

He’s late.

Again.

You check your watch, then the road, then your watch like that will magically summon his car. Normally he’s early, welcoming himself in as he watches something on the TV or talks to your dad.

You’re about to stand up and go back inside when tires finally crunch against the gravel. Jonathan’s car pulls up fast, stopping a little crooked. You stand, watching him lean his forehead against the steering wheel.

“Hey,” You safe carefully when you open the passenger door. “Are you okay?”

He looks up, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Sorry. I’m late.”

“That’s a first.” You tease lightly, sitting down. “I was starting to think you forgot about me.”

He huffs out a breath, pulling back onto the road. “Never.”

The car is quiet for maybe ten seconds before he starts talking again. “Have you seen Will today?”

You frown. “No?”

“What about yesterday?”

You shake your head. “No, the last time I saw him was on Saturday. Why? Is he okay?”

“He didn’t come home last night.”

[chestharrington]

let's hear it for the boy! || steve harrington x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 10.9k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Best Friend!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (solo masturbation, dry humping, f!receiving oral, handjob, premature ejaculation, p in v sex), language, sexual references, Steve is very oblivious, Steve can't get it up (unless it's for you), porn WITH plot, slow-ish burn

Summary: set before s4. steve has a problem. he can't cum unless he's thinking about you. except you're his friend and he definitely doesn't have any romantic feelings towards you. at least, that's what he tells himself.

“Seriously? Katie Frey doesn’t do it for you?” You asked, sitting atop the counter at Family Video. Steve shrugged, embarrassment welling up in his chest at your words, and the general topic of conversation.

“I was as surprised as you are now,” he said, twirling a company branded pen between his fingers and hoping the fidgeting would take his mind off of how absolutely mortified he was. “Because, like, Katie is hot.”

“Absolutely. Smokin’ hot.” Your voice was muffled around a twizzler, framed by perfectly made-up lips.

He made a face at your interruption, staring at you with narrowed eyes until you mimed zipping your mouth shut.

“And like, she’s got these great tits. Huge.” Really huge, fucking perfect tits. Not that he was a perv about it, but it was hard not to notice them. “And she’s pretty. And, you know, we were going at it at her apartment after our date and I swear I was into it. But…” He stopped twirling the pen so he could bury his face into his hands, mumbling the end of the sentence. “I couldn’t… cum, you know? I had to just fake it.”

“Fake it? Were you convincing?” you asked, brows furrowed. He peered up at you through the spaces between his fingers, at the quirk of a smile on your lips. “Maybe you should show me. I’m a visual learner.”

He threw the pen at you and groaned in frustration. “You’re an asshole, you know that right? This is serious.”

You did your best to adjust your expression and be empathetic. “Okay, well that didn’t happen with Sheryl, did it?” He shook his head. “Maybe you’re still stuck on Sheryl.”

He shrugged, letting himself relax a little. “Eh, not really. She was fun, but clingy.”

You sighed, leaning forward like a scientist observing him under a microscope. “Other than like… the finale, was the sex good?”

“Yes! And the date was perfectly fine too.” He sat up straighter, crossing his arms across his chest. He was telling the truth… mostly. It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t amazing. It was just… fine. He gave you a half-smile. “Thanks for letting me talk to you about this. Robin would be all weird about it.”

You smiled teasingly. “Oh, Robin would’ve bailed the moment you said the word cum.” You altered your voice into a shockingly accurate impression of your friend. “‘Ew, Steve! I don’t want to hear about the details of hetero sex. I faked mono during sex-ed for a reason.”

“She would’ve agreed about Katie’s tits, though,” Steve insisted. “She’d pretend to be mortified that I’m objecting women or whatever, but she’d agree.”

You laughed and shook your head at his words, and he felt a tiny tug in his chest— some sort of like, stirring, big feeling.

He didn’t get it. The two of you had been friends since Freshman year, when you moved next door to Carol and she dragged you to every hangout, big and small. He always sort of figured that Carol was trying to set you up with him, but neither of you ever made a move.

He wasn’t sure why he felt that uncomfortable ache in his chest when you smiled lately. There had never been any feelings there in all the time he’d known you, right? Sure, he thought you were hot— that’s why he had to give you dating advice all the time—but that was different.

"Maybe you just need to find the right girl, or something,” you said earnestly. “Like… maybe your dream girl is right in front of you, and even if your brain doesn’t know it, your body does.”

You tucked your permed hair behind your ear and it made his stomach drop like he was on a roller coaster. And he was confused about how such a tiny sensation could feel so overwhelming when he heard the bells above the door ring.

The girl approached the counter with big brown eyes and hair that looked a little fried by bleach and perm solution. He did love curls, though.

“I called this morning,” she said, her voice low and sultry. He liked sultry. “Some guy named Keith set aside Footloose for me? Should be under Rebecca Martin, or Becky, maybe.”

Steve smiled and turned on the charm.

Becky wasn’t the hottest thing to moan during sex, but Steve Harrington wasn’t a quitter. He’d just… avoid names in general.

Steve was a gentleman. They’d gone to dinner a few nights prior, and he’d been polite and kissed her at the front door. It had gone well enough to tell Robin about, which was saying something. He liked her sense of humor, she was sweet, and her perfume was so nice that it was practically addicting.

The second date wasn’t as formal. Movie at his place, stealing his parents’ fancy wine out of the cabinet like a high schooler. It started innocently enough that he wasn’t even sure if he should go any further, keep things cool, really see this one through this time.

But, Jesus Christ, did she have other plans. Pretty, pink manicured nails traced along his thigh, dimpling the fabric of his jeans, which were already tight enough. She played coy— eyes on the movie, a satisfied smirk on her lips as her hand paused just below where he wanted it. He squirmed, just slightly, feeling his dick stir with interest. She batted big doe-eyes at him and furrowed her brows in a very practiced manner.

“Something wrong?” She asked, and he could see the amusement in her gaze as her hand wandered up, cupping the bulge that was swelling in the front of his jeans. She sprung into action after he captured her lips in a hungry kiss, making quick work of the button and zipper so she could wiggle her hand beneath his boxers.

Her hand was deliciously soft, and he liked the soft gasp of surprise that escaped her when she took him into her hand and gave a testing stroke. It was dry, and a little uncomfortable until she spat into her hand and started over. It felt good. She felt good.

“Do you wanna go to your room?” Her words were damp against the column of his throat, no doubt leaving pink stains from her lipstick.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah. I want to.”

——

His cheeks were burning as he watched Becky redress, hurriedly tugging her panties up her legs. Her annoyance and disappointment was blatant in her features, and it made his chest ache with mortification.

“That doesn’t—“ He shook his head. That doesn’t usually happen sounded like a stupid excuse, especially considering that his last hookup had ended similarly. This time had been worse. “I don’t know why that happened.”

She shrugged, shimmying into her denim skirt. “It’s whatever, Steve.”

“No, no I mean it,” he said, trying to fight the frown on his lips, trying to seem at least a little… casual about it all. He’d gone down on her until she came apart right on his tongue, then he took his time to get her stretched out and ready for him until she couldn’t take anymore and begged for him.

He wanted to fuck her, he wanted to feel her around him, warm and tight and pliant, blinking prettily up at him while she moaned and gasped. So why wouldn’t his body let him do it?

What the fuck?

“It’s fine, really. Don’t worry about it.” As soon as he heard the pity in her voice, he nearly wanted to die. “I’m only in town to visit my aunt anyway.”

“This really never happens to me,” he insisted. The look on her face— the subtle mix of disbelief and scorn— made him feel like he was a bug under her shoe.

He didn’t bother redressing more than just tugging on his boxers as she left, and he was grateful she at least let him walk her to the door after the world’s most disastrous hookup attempt.

He groaned in annoyance as he closed the door behind him, running his hands through his mussed-up hair. He was at the phone before he even realized where he was walking, dialing the number through sheer muscle memory.

“Hello?” Your voice crackled along the line, sounding sleepy. What time was it?

“Hey,” Steve said, leaning against the wall where the phone was mounted. He didn’t need to worry about calling directly from his personal line when his parents weren’t home. Besides, he was sweating, smelled like sex, and there was something comfortable about the cool, empty room downstairs. “Am I bothering you?”

“Nuh-uh,” you hummed, and he heard something shuffle on your side of the phone. “Just painting my nails. What’s up? I thought you were busy with Becky tonight?”

His heart thumped uncomfortably and he wished he hadn’t called. “Yeah, uh, she left.”

“Oh,” you replied, and he could picture the look of soft concern you would be wearing. “You sound disappointed. Did it not go well?”

Steve scratched at his chest, the hair there still a bit tacky with sweat. “Permission to overshare?”

You paused. “Hm…” Another beat. “Uh, I guess so. Why not?”

You were quiet as Steve recounted the experience with you, right down to the horrific realization that he couldn’t stay hard and their night had to be cut short. He waited as soon as he explained Becky's departure, waiting for you to laugh or tease him.

“That’s tough, but it happens, Steve,” you said softly. “Maybe your heart wasn’t in it.”

He groaned again, pressing the heel of his hand into his forehead. “I don’t care if my heart was in it. I wanted my dick to be in it.” He paused. “That wasn’t on purpose, but you know what I mean. My heart has never been a problem before.”

“Well, stress can impact performance,” you explained. “Especially if you’re psyching yourself out about whether or not you’re going to get off. Permission for me to overshare?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his mussed hair. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Permission granted.”

“Last year when they hired me at The Gap at the mall and made me a manager for no reason, I was so fucking stressed out that I couldn’t get myself off for weeks. Like, I tried everything. You know what finally helped?”

Steve swallowed. Hard. “W-what?”

“I turned off my brain for a few hours. I just let my hands wander a bit, figured out what felt good, and explored that for a while before moving on to the next spot. Eventually, I made myself cum without even realizing what I was doing.” You paused, and he heard a nervous laugh slip past your lips. “Um, that's just, like, a suggestion.”

The mental image was enough to make his cock twitch beneath the thin material of his boxers. He swallowed, trying to block out the images of you; naked, hand between your thighs, writhing in pleasure. His length throbbed again, because despite his best efforts, the image didn’t go away.

“I’m just trying to explain that it’s super common to have issues getting off, and it’s not weird!” You said, the silence clearly making you antsy. “Did that help at all?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed. “Robin would say this is a sign from the universe that I should just be single for a while.”

“Maybe.” You paused. “Give yourself some time, alright? You’ve been through a lot, Steve. Stuff like that is bound to catch up sooner or later.”

You were waiting for him by your next shift, sneaking past Robin to pull him aside. “Did you try it?” You asked, blinking up at him.

“What?” He furrowed his brows until you mimed jerking off and his cheeks fucking burned. “Oh, no. I wasn’t up for it.” He groaned. “I didn’t mean it like that either.”

“I know, I know,” you assured, a pretty smile on your lips. “So, do you think that Becky’s not…”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be seeing her again, which blows.”

You shrugged. “Screw that. You can find someone way better, alright?” He wanted to roll his eyes as you grabbed his shoulders in your hands, making him look right at you. When he tried to look away, you repeated yourself. “Alright?”

He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, alright.” He wriggled out of your grip. “Can you just hand me the returns cart so I can shelve them?” You shrugged and passed him the cart, eager to offload your tasks if he was willing to take them.

He needed a distraction. Because you were wearing a black miniskirt with your dumb family video vest, and a fucking Star Wars shirt he would’ve found dorky if you weren’t perfectly endearing.

You were giggling and smiling, fighting with Robin over a copy of some movie you both were dying to see before the other. He sighed as he shelved a copy of A Christmas Story, wondering why someone would’ve rented that in August.

He got the cart shelved, helped a nice old lady find a Hitchcock movie she’d liked when her late husband showed her, and even reorganized the snack counter before he finally came upon a hitch in his day.

“Steve!” Your voice was barely a whisper, coming from Keith’s office. He looked around at the store, where Robin was sitting unfazed at the main counter, and slipped past the door.

Oh fuck. You were bent over Keith’s desk, legs sprawled awkwardly, tugging hopelessly at where your shirt was caught on a screw pinning it and you to the wall. He couldn’t even fathom how you’d gotten into that position— maybe reaching for something that had fallen behind the bulky desk?

Worst of all, that stupid mini skirt. Bent over the desk, he saw the baby blue cotton of your panties. His mouth went dry. He’d forgotten why he’d walked into the room in the first place.

“Steve! My shirt is stuck on one of the screws,” you explained, squirming slightly with impatience. “I got this when Empire came out, it’s irreplaceable. Just pull the desk out so I can move.”

It took a few seconds for his brain to comprehend what was asked of him. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. Easy-peasy.” He grimaced. Why the fuck did he say that?

“Steve, hurry.” He tried not to look back at your ass as he approached the desk, giving it a slight tug so you were no longer pinned. You stumbled a bit before standing and tugging your skirt down, giving him a sheepish smile. “Jesus, that was so stupid. I dropped my time card clocking in from my break. Thanks Steve.”

With the desk pulled out, you grabbed it easily and waved it in front of his face. He gave a weak heh as you patted his shoulder and sauntered back out.

He leaned against the wall, relishing in how cold it was against his weirdly hot body. He wasn’t dumb. He knew you were attractive. He thought you were fucking stunning. But you were his friend, not someone he was trying to fuck around with.

Imagine his surprise when he found himself already half-hard just from barely even a glimpse of your panties when he couldn’t even get it up for the girls he was actually trying to sleep with.

“God fucking damn it,” he muttered, adjusting himself as best as he could before stepping out of the office. As soon as he hit the floor, Robin grabbed his arm and tugged him towards a box of new releases.

“Hey, Stevie, do you mind putting out the pornos? I would but… you know. I don’t really want to.”

Better and better. “Yeah, what would Gloria Steinem think if she knew you saw a VHS sleeve that showed tits?” He raised a brow and took the new box, boasting salacious titles like— Slutty Slumber Party and Cock Fight III.

She pinched his cheek with a grin and patted his back. “You’re the best, Steve.” He rolled his eyes. He knew that already.

You caught up to him before he could pass the privacy curtain that partitioned the triple X section from the rest of the store, peering down into the box.

“Let me help you put these out,” you offered, already scooping up as many titles as you could carry from the box. It was his worst nightmare come to life— an inconvenient boner, his cute friend, and a million sets of tits and dicks everywhere the eye could see.

It was blissfully quiet as he focused intensely on alphabetizing the titles. You helped him do stuff all the time, no need for him to make it weird just because you were shelving movies like Hot Groupie Fuckfest 2.

“Maybe you should sneak one of these home,” you finally said, turning the title in your hand towards him. “It could help.”

“I don’t need tapes to get off,” he insisted, maybe a little too defensively. “I like magazines better anyway. Classier.” He swore internally, realizing he had revealed something extremely private that he hadn’t shared with anyone.

You shrugged and continued shelving. “Magazines are cool,” you replied, rather awkwardly, like you were walking on eggshells. “Very classy.”

“Nothing is wrong with me,” he finally said. His mortification had gotten the best of him and the words just came out. “I’m fine.”

“Okay…” you replied, a furrow between your brows. “I never said you weren’t, Steve. I’m just—“

“Trying to help— I know but…” he groaned, raking a hand through his hair. “Let’s drop it, alright?” You nodded in agreement and he sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

The two of you stood there for a moment before you nodded back to the crate. “Okay, we’ve got, like, three dozen more to stock, so let’s just get it done.”

He hated that he’d upset you, or offended you, or made you feel any way towards him other than perfectly happy. But what was he supposed to do? The entire ordeal was utterly humiliating.

And you seemed totally unbothered as you read the back cover of some girl on girl flick, interest in your eyes. Were you into that stuff? Was that what you liked thinking about? Why was he even concerned about what you think about?

You shelved the movie and moved on— grabbing your next pile, one that took you across the room to the shelf of more taboo, kinky stuff. He stared as you got onto your knees, bending over to stock the bottom shelf. And there he was— greeted by another tiny flash of your panties under the fluorescent lights just before you tugged your skirt down.

His cock stirred with interest, toeing the line between half-hard and impossible to ignore. Jesus. Were you doing it on purpose?

“Hm? Doing what?“ you asked, glancing over your shoulder. “Because if you mean stocking the weird shit on the bottom shelf, that’s a yes. No one wants to walk in and be eye-level with Fist Fest II.”

There was something about your smile then— sweet, like you had no idea the torment you were putting him through. He wanted to cry. “I’ll be right back.”

Robin ignored him as he practically darted past her and into the back rooms. He didn’t even bother clocking out for his break before he ducked into the employee’s only bathroom and locked the door behind himself.

He wasn’t an animal. Typically, he had self control. But a week of being unable to get off combined with your obliviousness as to what you were doing to him had him ready to jump out of his skin.

He fumbled with his belt, the metal clinking echoed off of the tile walls as he practically ripped it off. He made quick work of the button and zipper of his fly, practically moaning with relief at the lack of restriction. He spat into his hand before he shoved it into his briefs, crying out in relief before he thought better of it and bit onto his fist to keep quiet.

This, he realized as he grew frustrated with the lack of mobility and pulled his dick out at work, was a new low for him. Teeth cut into the meat of his palm as he fucked his hand in earnest, muffled moans coming out strangled and desperate. There wasn’t time for teasing, for drawing it out like he usually did when he was alone. It felt like his body was a rubber band, stretched and poised to snap.

And, god help him, he was thinking about you. Of you bent over Keith’s desk, legs gangly and awkward, ass in the air, wriggling to try to free yourself before caving and asking him for help. Steve was a gentleman. He only spared one look of shock before averting his eyes. But fantasies didn’t hurt anyone.

Fantasies about you doing it on purpose— arching your back and wiggling your hips invitingly because you wanted him to see you like that. In another world, where you wanted him and he wanted you, he would’ve relished in that scenario. Of you teasing and entrapping him in some game of cat and mouse. Of fucking you over the stupid squeaky desk and covering your mouth so Robin didn’t hear. Biting into your shoulder to keep himself quiet.

He came thinking about you, a guttural, desperate moan cutting into the air despite his best efforts to stay quiet. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed a release until he was coming down, his hand sticky and warm, cum painting the tile in front of him.

“Jesus fucking— goddamn it.” His voice wavered, most of his energy sapped. He felt pathetic as he stuffed his softening length back in his briefs and tugged his pants up, wincing at the sensitivity. And he felt even more pathetic as he grabbed paper towels from the dispenser and cleaned up his spend from the bathroom wall at his fucking workplace.

A sudden loud knock sounded on the door, nearly making him yelp. “Are you okay in there, dingus?” Robin asked, her genuine concern masked by the sarcasm that dripped from her tone. “You ran past like you needed to shit, or something, so I wanted to check.”

He sunk onto the gross bathroom floor and banged his head against the wall. Dying, he decided, would have been less painful than whatever this was.

It had been days, and he had yet to cum unless you were at the top of mind. It had to be a coincidence, like he’d Pavlov-ed himself into only getting hard if he thought about you.

No. That wasn’t exactly true. He could get hard, he just couldn’t cum unless he thought about you. There was a big difference, and it meant he wasn’t totally broken after all. It meant he could fix it.

The most inconvenient thing about it was the fact that he had to jerk off before any shifts with you or he’d have to repeat that first bathroom session, which was something he really, really wanted to leave in the past.

There was a possibility that there was something to the situation at hand— that the reason for his body’s reaction to you was beyond just physical. But that was dumb, and every time that tiny voice in his brain told him to consider it, Steve just shook it off.

His phone rang at his bedside and he sighed, tossing the book he’d been trying to read for the past hour with no avail.

“Yeah?” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He really needed some glasses, huh?

“Hey, Steve, it’s me.” Your voice was like music over the phone, and he sat up quickly, like you were there to witness his lazy, slouchy morning. “I was just calling to ask if you could cover my shift this afternoon. I know it’s a big ask since it’s so last minute, but I can totally pay you back double sometime.”

He scratched the back of his neck. Fucking Keith was on the schedule tonight, and they hated each other. Then again, it wasn’t like he had any plans. He couldn't risk another failed hookup, or word might get around that he was a limp dick loser. “Mhmm. Shouldn’t be too bad,” he lied.

You sighed with relief on the other end. “You’re a lifesaver, Steve. I thought I was gonna have to cancel my date.”

His heart stuttered for a few moments before he recovered and tried to act casual about it. “Date? I didn’t even know you were…” He trailed off, unsure of how to even finish that sentence. His voice was higher than usual, so he cleared his throat to brush it off.

You laughed. “Yeah, I know it’s been a while. I figured I should stop waiting around for something to fall into my lap and just put myself out there, or something. You know, just… casually, nothing too serious.”

Oh. He didn’t have the right to feel disappointed, and yet… He wanted to tell you not to go, to stay home like normal, and keep things like they were already. He didn’t want to imagine you with some random Hawkins asshole right now, especially when he couldn’t think of a single person in city limits who might be worthy of your time.

It was crazy. He’d set you up on plenty of dates and coached you through even more. He didn’t have any reason to feel weird about it now.

“Steve? Did I lose you?” You asked softly. “I know you’re still dealing with… you know, everything. I don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want me to. God, hearing you talk about getting laid while I was having a dry spell used to make me want to rip my hair out.”

“It’s fine,” he insisted. “Go have a good date, and don’t let him have all the fun, alright?”

You laughed, and he could picture you wrinkling your nose the way you always did when he said something dumb. “I would never. Thanks again, Steve.”

You were giddy at work the next morning, a pretty glow about you, an unusual chipper attitude that you shared with every single guest. You weren’t even being particularly snarky with him or Robin.

“Good night?” He asked, despite not really wanting to know. God, it was like there were two halves of himself constantly working against the other.

You smiled brightly, and he almost winced. “It was so good. I think you know him— Andy from Varsity baseball in ‘84. He graduated a year earlier than us and goes to Purdue. He’s living at home while he’s doing an internship for some financial firm.”

“What happened to just being casual?” Steve asked, brows furrowing as he looked at you.

You laughed in lieu of a response and grabbed the box of merchandise for the latest new releases. He stood there dumbly until Keith knocked into his shoulder.

“Back to work, Harrington,” he said in that stupid, asshole voice of his. “These returns aren’t going to shelve themselves.”

——

“You’re glowering.” Robin whispered into his ear a few days later, so close it made him jump out of his frustrated stupor and back into reality.

“I’m not, I'm just focused,” he insisted, even though his eyes were burning holes into the back of Andy’s head. He hit stop on the tape he had successfully rewound and put it back into the case, then back into the cart for shelving.

It was the sort of monotonous task that gave him time to ruminate. And to glower.

Why was Andy even there? Just to distract you from work and charm his way into your pants? Again? You’d been shelving the same tape of The Outsiders for twenty minutes, at least.

God, he sounded like Keith. Wasn’t that terrifying?

“Do you remember him from high school?” Steve finally asked, sparing a glance back at Robin. She shrugged, and he whipped his gaze back to the two of you. His hand was on your hip, dangerously close to grabbing your ass. Classless, asshole college guy. “Yeah, I figured. He graduated in ‘84. Third baseman.”

Robin snorted. “I bet.”

“Cute. Very charming, Robin,” Steve sighed, shaking his head. He stopped the tape and slipped the cover back on. “Whatever. He just doesn’t seem her type, that’s all.”

Robin rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand before he could reach for the next tape. “Steve. Andy is exactly her type. Sweet guy, athletic, charming…” She raised her brows, like she was trying to make a point. But to Steve, the only point she seemed to be making was that Andy was the total package and he was a loser.

“I’m not glowering,” he repeated, if only to prove it to himself. “I’m just trying to finish up the rewinds since we’re down an employee.” He gave a lazy gesture towards the front of the store, where you and Andy were making eyes at each other.

Not jealous. Not jealous at all. Just… sexually frustrated. That was an easy fix.

His Rolodex was filled with girls who he’d fooled around with. When he got home, he flipped through the remaining names, each eliciting vague memories.

Deanna was hot… she had a weird laugh though. Not like you. Your laugh was a nice, warm sound. He liked your laugh more than anything. As a friend. Of course.

Maybe Kelly? She was sweet, pretty. Not as pretty as you were, obviously, but who was?

He tried calling a few, but most of them wanted nothing to do with a guy who’d forgotten to call for a few months. After his third rejection, he gave up entirely. He didn’t really have it in him to lead another girl on, anyway.

Maybe there was something there he should acknowledge. That itching, stirring feeling of want that had started to fester months ago. Gnawing at the edges of each interaction he had with you. Maybe it had always been there and his dumb body was making him do something about it, just like you’d said.

He was in a mood for the next week. He hadn’t felt this pent up since after graduation, when he had to wear a sailor uniform and perform a public humiliation ritual for minimum wage.

You sidled up to him at the register at closing, where he was getting a sick sort of satisfaction in checking on all of the late charges about to hit the overdue rentals.

You were dressed like you were going to go on a date later— with one of your favorite tops and that goddamn mini skirt. Even worse, you were smiling a pretty smile like you wanted something, which made the itch of irritation claw at his tongue. “I’m not taking another one of your shifts so that you can go out with Andy,” he said sternly, with a narrowed glance at you.

Your brows raised and you gave him a look that told him he was being an asshole, which he already knew. “Okay, one, I wasn’t going to ask you to take one of my shifts, and two, who pissed in your cereal this morning?”

He just huffed. “Sorry, long day.” Long month. “I’m being a dick.”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, you are… but I forgive you.” You brushed your hair back and leaned imperceptibly closer. It probably wasn’t on purpose, but your arm pushed against his and you were so warm, and you smelled like the Avon perfume your mom always bought you. ”Let’s hang out tonight. I feel like I only ever see you at work lately. I’ll rent us a movie, grab some dinner on the way… it’ll be just like old times.”

The realistic part of his brain told him it was a bad idea. He’d been plagued with graphic, explicit images of you playing in his head at the worst of times. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself to be normal about hanging out at your place.

Which was absolutely ridiculous. It would be the thousandth time he’d been over, but the odds of him getting an inconvenient, persistent boner around you were frustratingly high.

But his alternative was going home to sulk alone and sink deeper into his funk, so he nodded. “Yeah, sounds fun.” It would be fine. He could persevere.

——

Your basement had always been his favorite place to hang out. Unlike his own parents who wanted input into every facet of his young life, your parents let you do whatever the hell you wanted to the space, as long as they could store their treadmill and your mom’s Tupperware stock.

It was lit with old Christmas lights and covered in tchotchkes that you had found in garage sales. Old quilts, your grandma’s macrame, needlepoint throw pillows. It was like an estate sale had crawled inside to die, and he loved it.

The couch had an uncomfortable spring that always dug into his thighs, you picked a really dumb movie, and you had slightly burned the popcorn on the stove, but he couldn’t complain. Maybe he did need this.

”So… are you still seeing Andy?” He asked when the movie hit a lull. It wasn’t that he wasn’t paying attention, it was just hard to focus.

You laughed, shaking your head. You were sprawled across the ugly floral couch, legs in his lap, curled up facing the TV. “Ew, no,” you said with an eye roll. “He was fun at first, but I was just kind of using him, you know?”

Did he know? Probably not, but he nodded like he understood anyway. He took another handful of the mildly-burnt popcorn and watched you out of his periphery (which was, admittedly, not what it used to be).

He tried to focus on the movie some more, but it was you that broke the silence next. You shifted your legs a bit to get comfortable before he felt your gaze on him. “So, how’s your problem?” You asked.

His cheeks felt hot, like his entire head had been shoved under the heat lamp in Dustin’s turtle’s tank. “Oh,“ he cleared his throat. “Fine, I guess. I don’t know, actually. I haven’t been on any dates since Becky, so…”

“Really? Why not?” You asked, brows knit.

His expression was incredulous. Why not? Oh, nothing too bad— just that I can’t get hard lately unless I’m fantasizing about you. “Why do you think? This is totally reputation killing stuff here. I’ll be lucky if the entire female population of Hawkins doesn’t think my dick doesn’t work.”

You shifted closer, but your legs were still heavy in his lap, which he was growing increasingly conscious of. “What about when you’re alone?”

His heart started to hammer as thoughts flooded his brain of the session he’d had in the shower that morning, which had been, in part, fueled by a quick perusal of his photo album from last summer and the handful of pictures of you in a remarkably high cut swimsuit.

“Uh…” His voice was higher than usual, and he tried to bring it back down to Earth before continuing. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, glancing only briefly at your lips before forcing himself to look back up at your eyes. “Normal. It’s normal.”

“So, if that's normal, what do you think about when you’re alone?”

His throat feels tight as he tries to think of something to say other than you, you, you, you. You in your stupid granny pajamas, you in the backseat of his car, you bending over to shelve DVDs… you had burrowed into his mind and totally corrupted it. He squints, like he’s considering anything else. “Um… normal things. Just… normal stuff, you know?”

You sighed out a soft huh, and there was something in your gaze that made his stomach flip. It was an expression he’d never seen you wear so plainly, especially not towards him. Pure, hungry desire, so obvious that he had to have been imagining it. “Steve,” you whispered.

He closed his eyes, swallowing. “Mhmm? Yeah?”

“You’re hard right now.”

He glanced down as you shifted your legs again and had to swallow a pathetic moan at the tiniest amount of friction. And, well, he was obviously, undeniably hard in his jeans.

“Oh, that’s just… y’know, from me remembering all of the totally normal stuff that I—“

The rest of his lame excuse was swallowed by the warm press of your lips against his. Lapped away as your tongue slipped into his mouth and took every rational thought away with it. It was slow and sweet, like you were trying your best to savor every second of it. Jesus, had you always been that good of a kisser?

When you pulled back, with spit-glossed lips and met his gaze, he felt so turned on that his head started to swim. He couldn’t find words for how he was feeling, for how he’d been feeling, so he offered a meager, “You’re really good at that.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, and his heart did that thing again, which felt more embarrassing than the obvious bulge straining in his Levi's. For once, his body’s ability (or lack thereof) to function was the least of his worries.

“I don’t know how much more obvious I can possibly make it,” you said softly. “I’m really into you.”

His brows furrowed. For a second, he thought he might have slipped in the shower, died, and woken up in a very forgiving afterlife. “What? Since when?”

You swallowed and chewed your lip sheepishly for a moment. “Um, on and off since I’ve known you, but, like, very much on since graduation.”

It was like a fog had lifted over his memories. The lingering touches and flirty eyes across the rooms. The late nights on the phone, where it felt like talking to Steve was the only place you wanted to be. And, frankly, it had been all he wanted to do too.

Maybe he had been a total idiot this whole time. A dense, oblivious dumb ass who had been ignoring his dream girl because she was one of his best friends first.

Then his brows knit deeper, forming two parallel furrows between your brows. “But you were just dating Andy.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “I was trying to make you jealous, which obviously worked since Robin told me that she caught you pouting.”

Robin. “I didn’t pout,” he insisted, but he knew that lying was futile. He had just… glared in Andy’s general direction. “Okay, fine. If that was on purpose, I’m guessing your panty flashing was too.”

That seemed to make you pause. Your head tilted, brows furrowing. “I’m sorry, my what?”

He blanched, embarrassed. “You know, the time you wore this same skirt, and you got stuck on Keith’s desk. You were messing with me, obviously.”

He could see the gears turning in your mind as you thought back to when you’d gotten stuck on the desk. As soon as the grin split across your features, he wanted to melt right into the shitty couch cushions and die next to the fucked-up spring. “You think I’d risk my Empire shirt just to turn you on?” You questioned, frankly offended at the insinuation. When his face went pink with embarrassment, you looked positively giddy. “Oh my god, Harrington you perv—“

He had you pinned on your back before you could fully form the insult, planting kisses to your neck. “You’re so evil,” he mumbled into your throat, lips grazing, soft and wet against your fluttering pulse. Each kiss made you squirm beneath him, which wasn’t doing much to help him cool down. “You’ve been driving me crazy, like you’ve got some sort of witchy spell on me.”

You giggled, and the sound went straight into the warm, gooey center of himself. “Did it turn you on?” You gasped softly. He groaned as you hooked one of your legs around his thigh and pulled him closer against you, so he was grinding directly against your core.

Did it turn him on? It had led to one of the most humiliating moments of his life, of which there had been many. It was embarrassing, but the sound of your laughter was like a drug to him, so he’d throw himself into the fire for your amusement. “It turned me on so much that I had to jerk off in the employee bathrooms,” he mumbled against your throat.

That was a dumb thing to admit. A dumb, gross, creepy thing to tell one of your best friends. Your oldest friend! Stupid, stupid Steve—

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” you said finally. One of your hands came up and he shivered as he felt your nails combing through his hair. “But you could have just told me, dummy. We could’ve run out to my car so I could take care of it for you.”

Just the thought made his hips buck against yours, seeking sweet, sweet friction between your thighs. “Don’t say things like that,” he groaned. “If you talk like that it’ll fucking kill me, I swear.”

He pulled back, just to see the sharp, wet glint of your teeth as you smiled up at him. You drove him crazy. Before, it was just in the normal ways, like when you made him give you a ride into the city and didn’t give him gas money, or when you drank too much at a party and puked on his new sneakers.

This was new. He felt stricken by some new form of hysteria, where something as tiny as the smallest twitch in your brows made him feel overcome with intense need. Jesus, he’d never been so pent up in his life. He felt the soft pressure of your leg tugging him close again, then the slow roll of your hips against his.

"Fuck," he panted. It was embarrassing, frankly, how gone he already was. He leaned down, capturing your lips with his again, and relished in the slow drag of your tongue against his.

He'd never loved a kiss so much in his life. With you beneath him, grinding up against him and moaning against his lips. The way your tongue felt tangling with his. He got too lost in it— in the kiss, in your bodies pressing together. After a while, the kissing got lost and it was just the two of you, panting into each others mouths as you slowly ground against each other.

You pulled back first— lips kiss-swollen and slick. It took everything in him not to kiss you again.

“So…” You murmured, peering up at him. When you bit your lip sheepishly, he wanted to bury his face in your throat and groan. He watched, hypnotized, as your tongue slipped out and wet your lips. “Everything definitely feels like it's working like normal.”

He nearly whined as your other hand moved down and palmed him through his jeans. Your fingers pressed against his button, working it undone. He groaned as your hand wriggled past his waistband to grope him through his briefs.

It all felt so good, too good. Your thumb brushed over the damp fabric clinging to his weeping tip and he swore he saw stars. "Ah, just… just wait—" He choked out.

You froze, brow quirked. He could feel his cock twitching in your palm, and tried to think about horrible, disgusting things to keep from coming too soon. Demodogs, Russian torture, Tommy Hagan's gym locker, mopping random kids' puke off of the Scoops Ahoy tile. "What? Is it happening again?"

"No, no, the opposite," he panted. His eyes squeezed shut and he tried to control himself as best as he could, given the circumstances. You showed him a little bit of mercy and slipped you hand free, which he was immensely grateful for.

"So I beat the curse, huh?" You asked with a coy smile. "Becky Martin and Katie Frey can totally suck it."

Steve laughed, despite everything. "Jesus, you are the curse," he said, meeting your gaze. "For the past month, I could only get off if I was thinking about you." He swallowed, feeling vulnerable with you looking up at him. "Like I said… witchy spell."

He sat back as you pushed at his shoulders, encouraging him to sit back against the cushions. His eyes widened as you shifted into his lap, the weight of you warm and comfortable there. When he glanced down at where you sat on his lap, where your skirt rode up your thighs, he got a head rush. "You know…" You trailed off, looping your arms around his neck. "Usually, I'd never sleep with a guy who said I'm a curse."

He groaned as you tugged at the hair at the base of his neck, forcing him to tilt his head back and expose his throat. He laughed weakly, eyes half lidded as he looked at you. "Usually," he echoed.

You nodded and leaned closer, so he could feel the warm buzz of your proximity. Like every cell in his body was vibrating with the desire to just press against you. "Well, someone needs to fix that attitude of yours. You've been really bitchy for the past few weeks." He scoffed at your words, but couldn't fight the smile on his lips.

You sat back on his knees and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the toned expanse of his torso. He hummed contentedly as your fingers combed through his chest hair, just exploring the newly exposed skin.

Your hands trailed down, following the trail of dark hair on his tummy that disappeared into his briefs. He swallowed hard as you wrapped your hand around his cock, warm and tight. He wanted to see though. He wanted to look at the way your manicured hand fit around him, so he tugged his pants down and moaned at the sight.

"You must really want this," you murmured, lips twitching up in what he could only recognize as pure triumph. "You're dripping." The pad of your thumb swept over his tip, gathering slick precum to make the glide of your hand smooth.

It didn't take much. Actually, it took a mortifyingly small amount of attention. Your hand just felt so good wrapped around him, and it was the very thing he'd been fantasizing about for the past month. You, in his lap, with your hand around his pulsing cock and your lips on his throat. It couldn't have been more than three pumps of your hand, not even enough time to get a good rhythm, and he was crying out with pretty moans and shooting thick ropes of cum all over his abdomen.

His chest was heaving like he'd just run a marathon as you worked him through it. "Fuck," he panted. "Nngh— You've gotta— Ah, fuck— 's too much." You relented, like a benevolent god, and released him from your grip, so his dick twitched and softened against his stomach.

"Is that how you sounded when you faked it for Katie?" You teased.

"Oh, fuck off," he panted, a smile splitting his features.

When his mind cleared enough to have a little bit of shame, he realized how embarrassing it was that he'd finished so fast. Maybe you were into him for other things, but he didn't want to risk losing you now. So as he hastily tugged his pants back up, he stumbled through an explanation. "I'm not usually, like… I mean… I do have stamina, typically."

"I actually think it's really sweet, Steve. It's like a compliment." He was going to argue more, then you licked the cum from your fingers to clean it up and he nearly blacked out at the sight. He couldn't wait a second more, he had to have his hands on you.

"Alright, your turn," he said, and before you could say anything, he had you pinned beneath him on the couch again. He worked the buttons of your shirt quickly, until it fell open at your sides. He sat up, just to take in the sight.

"You're so goddamn pretty," he practically groaned. With your shirt undone, he relished in the sight of your tits cupped by white lace. "I don't even wanna take it off."

"Steve," you gasped as his mouth moved down your throat and sternum, until he was planting wet, hot kisses onto the plush of your breasts. He moaned against your chest, propping himself with one arm so he could grope at your tit with his free hand. You keened, arching into the attention, and he relished in your neediness. "I think you should take it off."

Your wish was his command. Not that it was such a difficult ask. He made quick work of the clasp and let you shrug it off and onto the floor. He sat back and really had to fight the urge to whistle at the sight. "Goddamn," he murmured, letting his hands roam up your body and cup your breasts.

You rolled your eyes, but he could see the tiniest bit of bashfulness in your eyes. In the back of his mind, it was kind of weird. Not bad weird, just… different. You were the person he went with to the hair salon and watched the Bulls with. It felt odd to have you pinned beneath him, moaning softly as he squeezed the plush of your tits and teased your nipples.

To your credit, you let him take his time. You let his hands wander and explore at his own pace. Your breath hitched as his hands dipped lower, until he was hiking up the fabric of your mini skirt to reveal your panties. Baby blue.

"Oh, fuck you," he groaned, meeting your gaze. "It was on purpose, you liar."

You grinned, and the smug expression you wore made him feel like his chest was going to implode. "I don't know what you're talking about, Steve. Do you really think I'd play mind games to torment you when you're pent up and needy?"

Yes, actually. He huffed and shifted down your body. He felt right at home with your thighs bracketing his head. He pressed a kiss to the soft skin of your inner thigh.

The pastel of your panties betrayed just how affected you were, much to his amusement. He ran a thumb over the damp patch at your center and felt your thighs tense on either side of him. "You must really want this," he said with a grin, echoing your previous teasing.

"Jesus, of course I do," you said, breath shuddering as he thumbed at your clit through the sodden fabric. "You're, like, my dream guy, and you're about to go down on me."

Your dream guy. Steve's pulse thrummed as he took it in. You were incredible, way too good for a Hawkins loser who spent his shifts renting video tapes. To be fair, you were also spending your days shelving video tapes, but he always felt like that was a brief stop in your life that you'd move on from.

But if you thought he was good enough to be your dream guy, maybe there was something worthwhile left in him after all.

He kissed your clit through your panties almost reverently. His tongue laved over the fabric and he groaned at the taste of you saturating the cotton. God, you were like heaven. He could have stayed like that for hours— just tasting you through your panties. Each lap over your center just soaking the fabric more, until it clung to the shape of your lips like a second skin.

It wasn't enough though, and he was too lost in his desire to be particularly patient. He wanted his tongue on you, in you, licking up every drop of your juices until he made you spill more onto his tongue. He sat up and tugged your panties down, then quickly repositioned himself between your legs with your thighs over his shoulders.

Steve's tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he took in the sight of your pussy. Slick with arousal, twitching with anticipation. He ran his thumb up the seam of you, spreading you open. He relished in the cute twitch of your clit as blew a puff of cool air over your heated, sensitive skin.

"You're really pretty," he murmured. "So wet for me. And so goddamn responsive." He grinned up at you from between your thighs, relishing in the way your tits heaved with each shuddery breath.

His tongue lapped at your center, tasting just how badly you've wanted him. You writhed beneath him, thighs tensing to clamp around his head before he finally just held them apart. He started to taste you in earnest then, lapping up your juices, stroking the bud of your clit with the flat of his tongue.

You tasted so good, practically gushing onto his tongue as he feasted on you. His tongue pressed against your entrance, just barely dipping in so he could feel the way you clenched around the intrusion.

"Fuck, Steve," you panted. Your hips bucked, practically grinding against his mouth. He moaned against you, nuzzling his nose against your clit. "That's— ah, fuck— that's really good."

He smiled against your pussy, giving a few more slow, wet kisses before he sat up. In the dim light of the basement, you could see where his face was slick and shiny with your spit and juices. "Gonna stretch you out a little for me, okay?"

You nodded, propping yourself on your elbows to see him better. He pressed another sweet kiss to your clit before he eased his middle finger into you. If he hadn't already fully recovered from his first orgasm, just the feeling of your walls clenching around his finger would have done it for him.

It took a minute for him to learn your body. Where to touch, what spots inside made your legs shake. You took two fingers easily, squirming as he pressed his fingers against a sensitive, spongy spot. Your eyes rolled back and his head thumped against the arm of the sofa, which made him grin.

"Right there, huh?" He teased. He applied a little more pressure and felt you gush around his fingers. Yeah, right there. He wrapped his lips around your your sensitive clit and sucked until your thighs trembled on either side of him.

"Steve!" You gasped, back arching. Your voice was high and breathy, he'd never heard you so desperate before. He knew you were close— he could feel your walls clenching and fluttering around his fingers. "Oh, fuck. Jesus christ, like that— Just like that—"

When you finally came around his fingers and on his tongue, he had never heard such a perfect sound before. Soft, keening moans and pretty cries of his name. Your clit twitched against his tongue, and when your sweet moans finally turned into overstimulated whimpers, he relented.

You panted, chest heaving breathlessly as you came down from your high. You propped yourself up on your elbows and giggled as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Holy shit," you gasped.

He grinned, crawling up your body to plant a slow, sweet kiss on your lips. He could feel you smiling into the kiss, until his teeth knocked with yours and he had to pull back with a sheepish laugh. "Think you can give me another one?"

You raised a brow. "I can, but do you think you can?"

He laughed. Jesus, he'd been hard since he'd gotten his hands on your tits. "I definitely can."

Your gaze was on him as he stripped the rest of his clothes off— kicking his socks, jeans and briefs into a messy pile on the floor. For the first time in a long string of hookups, Steve Harrington felt self-conscious under your scrutiny.

"You're staring," he said weakly, feeling heat flood his cheeks. Usually, the second he was undressed he had a partner ready to jump his bones, but you just took in the sight of him.

"Only because you're really hot. You're forgetting that this is the culmination of every teenage fantasy I've ever had," you finally said, shifting to sit up. He hummed contentedly as you ran your hands up his chest then traced over his broad shoulders

"How did this next part go in those fantasies, huh?" He asked.

With a tiny grin, you pushed him back onto the couch, which creaked under his weight. "Well, usually," you began, straddling his hips. "They start like this."

Oh. Steve swallowed, peering up at you with wide eyes. Your hands splayed over his chest, fingers dimpling the muscle of his pecs. He groaned as you gave a slow rock of your hips, gliding your cunt along his length.

You were so wet and warm on top of him, and the precum dribbling from his tip only added to the sticky mess. All he could do was watch, totally slack-jawed as you ground your hips against his.

Well, he could also reach up and play with your tits. So he did. His heart thrummed at the soft and pretty sound that fell past your lips as he tugged and pinched your nipples.

You didn't wait any longer, not that he would have made you. There was something so sexy about the way you took control— taking his cock in your hand so you could line him up with your entrance and begin to slowly sink onto him. His hands quickly moved down to your hips, squeezing tight as you took inch after inch.

Jesus, you were taking it like a champ. With your head tossed back and your pussy clenching around his cock, he knew you really fucking loved it. He wanted you to love every bit of it.

"That's it," Steve goaded, the tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips. "Just a little more, honey. You've got it."

You moaned, lips parted as you sunk down. Warm, wet, tight until you were fully seated. A furrow formed between your brows as you stilled, accommodating to the size of him. "Fuck," you breathed, fingers tensing on his chest.

He wanted to squirm, to buck his hips deeper, to force you to finally move. But he could behave, he could let you have this. You gave a slow roll of your hips and he groaned, squeezing your hips tighter. "You doing okay?"

A cocky smile broke across your lips, and when you laughed he felt your walls squeeze around him. "I'm doing great," you said, punctuation your words with another slow grind. "I'm just trying to make sure you can last long enough to enjoy it."

His cheeks went hot with embarrassment and arousal, the smirk faded into mild offense. "Don't be cute. I'm fine."

"Yeah?" You began to move faster, your thighs colliding with his with each bounce onto him. You took him as deep as you could, then rose up until he was just about to slip out of you, only to slam back down. In, out, in, out, in, out. "Is this what you've been thinking about every time you jerked off?"

Had he thought of this? And then some. Steve had learned that he could be very creative when he needed to be. "Something like it," He managed, eyes squeezing shut as you gave a particularly sinful swivel of your hips.

He groaned, head falling back, neck bared as you rode him within an inch of his life. At least, that's what it felt like. Pretty moans and soft ah, ah, ahs slipped past your lips like his cock was punching them out of you. He moved his hands, grabbing your ass like he had any semblance of control over what you were doing to him.

Who the fuck taught you to ride dick like this? And should he thank them or murder them?

"Fuck, Steve," you panted. "Should've known you'd feel this good. No wonder you have a fucking harem around you."

He didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about another girl ever again. In one steady motion, he had you pinned to the couch. From beneath him, he relished in the way your eyes went wide with surprise. He didn't just feel good, he was good. He wanted you to know how good he was for you, how good he could make you feel.

"You feel goddamn perfect," he groaned. As soon as the compliment passed his lips, he felt you squeeze around him, pussy fluttering as he drove into you again and again. "So wet and tight, so pretty. Can't believe I've wasted my time when you've been right here."

Steve moved his mouth to your throat, licking and sucking and biting at all of the soft skin there. He wanted to leave a mark. He wanted Andy to show up to Family Video the next day so he could beg for a second chance, only to see you'd already moved on.

But he couldn't focus too much on vindictive pettiness when you were so beautiful beneath him, with your eyes wide and full of so much want. Had he ever felt so wanted before? So needed? Your legs wrapped around him, heels digging in to drive him deeper.

His thrusts slowed, until he was buried deep inside of you and grinding nice and slow, rubbing against the soft, sensitive spots inside of you that made you drip around his cock.

It was then that he pulled back, meeting your gaze as he ground into you. Your eyes fluttered, rolling until he saw the whites of them. "Jesus Christ," you gasped. "Fuck, Steve, just like that. Feels s'good."

He grinned, preening at your praise. He propped himself up on one arm, then snaked the other between your bodies, so he could rub at your clit. The second his thumb rubbed over the slick bundle of nerves, your walls squeezed around him so tight he could hardly move.

You cried out prettily, nails cutting into the meat of his back. "Just a little more, yeah?" He cooed. He moved his thumb a little faster, feeling the way your clit twitched against the pressure.

"Fuck—" You gasped. "Steve, god, don't stop, please—"

He could feel that the band was going to snap. Your gasping breaths and whiny moans were as much of an indicator as the fluttery way your walls clamped down on him.

Steve wasn't much better off. He could sense his impending orgasm like the buzz of lightning about to strike. A tightly wound spring, a dam about to burst. But, god, he wanted to feel you cum first. "C'mon, I've got you, sweetheart. Just give it to me."

It was a goddamn miracle that you came when you did— crying out nice and pretty as you clenched around him like a vise. The sound of his name falling from your lips, with your body enveloping him like you were made to… it was everything he'd been craving for the past month. Probably longer, if he was honest with himself.

He barely managed to work you through your orgasm before it all became too much. He pulled out and spilled onto your tummy with a guttural moan.

"Fuck," he panted, collapsing onto you. He should have been disgusted about the warm slickness of his cum sandwiched between your bodies, but he was so sated that he couldn't bring himself to care. "Was it okay for you?"

Steve propped himself up on his elbow so he could look at you. God, you were pretty. You'd always been pretty, but right now you looked so perfect.

You bit your lip and nodded. "Yeah, it was great," you replied. "Really great, actually. I guess it was okay for you too, considering I'm glazed with your cum right now."

He laughed sheepishly and rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

The two of you dressed in comfortable silence, mopping yourselves clean of fluids and sweat with a few towels sitting on top of the washing machine… that promptly went right back in for another clean.

You hopped on top of the machine when it was running, peering over at where Steve stood. "Penny for your thoughts?" You asked. He glanced over and his heart thrummed. Even in shitty lounge wear with your hair pulled back in a banana clip, you looked like a supermodel.

"Just thinking about work tomorrow," he confessed. Your brows knit in confusion as you looked at him. Work? Now? "I don't know how we're going to share a shift without me going absolutely crazy and wanting to get my hands on you. Especially now that I know that I can."

You grinned, and Jesus, he wanted to just jump your bones again. "Well, it's just you and me on the schedule tomorrow," you reminded him. "Maybe we close at lunch so you can help me with restocks? Just to make sure your problem is completely solved. I don't want you relapsing."

He knew there wasn't a chance in hell that he'd ever have a problem getting hard again. Not with you around, looking like the finest goddamn thing to ever set foot in Hawkins, Indiana. "Might as well," he said. "Just to be sure."

thank you so much for reading! i can't believe this has been in the works since 2023 and i FINALLY found the motivation to finish it!! i really hope you enjoyed, i had so much fun with this plotline :) let me know what you think!!

[eunoiaflow3r]

[haobunniies]

oh my god 😵‍💫

[imani4reading]

Not Happy Screams | Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader

Summary: Anytime your boyfriend comes over, you’re meant to keep the door open three inches. You’ve found a loophole to this rule: just sneak him in every night. Surely, you’ll never be caught…right?

Warnings: Slightly suggestive

WC: 1.4K

Masterlist!

It was late night, the cabin consumed in silence.

Awfully rare in your household with your father slamming doors and stomping around and your sister constantly unlocking your bedroom door with her powers to ask you nonsensical questions.

Your sister, El, was next door in her bedroom, and most importantly, your father was fast asleep on the couch, a rerun of some old sitcom playing in the background.

Now, was the perfect time for your boyfriend to be snuck into your bedroom.

You were lying on your stomach in your bed, reading a magazine when there was a tapping noise coming from your window.

You shot up from your bed, tossing the magazine aside and making your way to the window.

You drew back the curtains in one swift motion and were met with Steve, a boyish grin on his face.

You opened the window slowly and quietly. “Hi,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he beamed, climbing through your window and landing on the wooden floor quietly.

You giggled as his hands found their place on your hips, drawing you closer to him. His nose bumped yours as he shared your forbidden excitement.

His lips immediately met yours in a soft, delicate kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer as you backed away towards your bed, the kiss never breaking.

Steve sat at the edge of the bed and pulled you on top of his lap, fingers grazing up and down your back.

You pulled away to catch your breath. His eyes were in a daze, enamored by your loopy smile.

“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, a soft smile on his lips.

Your face heat up as you looked away. “Steve…” you trailed off.

He had a bad habit of making you nervous, but he loved it.

“I’m serious,” he said, grabbing your jaw gently so your eyes would meet his again. “You quite literally take my breath away.”

He pulled your face towards his, capturing your lips into another intoxicating kiss.

Your hands found his chest, pushing him back onto your bed. He pulled you gently on top of him, his hands sliding from your waist up your t-shirt.

You let out a soft noise into his mouth, making him fold instantly.

You tugged at his shirt, making him take the hint and lift it over his head, tossing it onto the floor, then connecting his lips to yours almost immediately.

Engrossed in the rather intimate moment, you two tuned out the rest of the world.

In your minds, it was just you two.

But, it wasn’t.

The door unlocked as if it were from magic.

“Can you help me…oh…”

You practically flew off of Steve, breathing heavily. You stood, staring at the door where El had a bewildered expression on her face.

She was holding a bracelet in her hands, coming in to ask you to help her tie it off, something she hadn’t yet mastered.

Behind her, your father was still snoring, sleeping on the couch.

“El!” you whisper shouted. “What are you doing?!” You grabbed her wrist and dragged her into your room, closing the door quietly. “What did I tell you about knocking?!”

“I did…” he trailed off, staring at Steve with narrow eyes as he scrambled to the floor, grabbing his shirt. “Tame that jungle,” she mumbled under her breath.

You raised your brows at her comment. Sure, Steve didn’t shave. But, what an odd thing to say. Rather out of character for El. “Excuse you?”

“Dustin,” she verified, looking up at you. “He says Steve needs to tame that jungle.”

Steve scoffed, pulling his shirt over his head. “That little shit.” He stood back up and sat on your bed, shaking his head.

El held out her hand to you, the unfinished bracelet in hues of pink and purple. “Can you help me finish it?” she asked, disregarding what she walked in on.

You stared at her with your lips slightly parted. She still had no social awareness, but you loved her too much to turn her away. You sighed. “Okay, fine.”

You took the bracelet from her hands and tied it off, handing it back to her. She put it on her wrist with a bright smile. “Thank you!” she beamed, heading for the door. Her hand stopped on the handle as she turned around, looking between you and Steve. “Please do not happy scream loud again. I am on the other side of the wall.”

You furrowed your brows as your eyes widened, Steve doing the same. “What?” you both asked at the same time.

She flashed you a smile and swung the door open, grunting as soon as she took a step.

She glanced up.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She bumped into your father.

“Oh,” she breathed out. “Hi, Hop!”

His jaw was clenched as she stared at you.

Steve fell backwards off of your bed in shock, hitting the floor with a loud thud. If he was scared of one person, it was Hopper.

Hopper stood tall and menacingly at the doorway. He stepped aside and told El to return back to her room, before it got ‘too messy’.

You gulped as El gave you a horrified look, walking out the room.

Your father walked in, staring you down. “What did we talk about?” he asked through gritted teeth, trying to keep his calm, something Joyce was trying to get him to do.

You scratched the back of your neck. “Well, before you fell asleep we were talking about going to see Back to the Future and-”

“You know what I mean,” he interrupted you. “Why is he in here without permission and the door shut and locked?”

Shit.

He knew.

You looked to your bed. Steve was no where to be seen.

He was still laying on the floor.

Perhaps the best course of action was to play dumb.

“Who?” you asked, trying to come off as genuinely confused.

Your father stared you down as his jaw clenched. “So if I were to walk around to the side of your bed, that Harrington kid wouldn’t be there?” he asked, hypothetically.

You shrugged. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

He knew you were full of it, his expression making it obvious. “I swear,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I swear if I walk over there and see him…” he trailed off. “I’m gonna kill that damn kid,” he threatened.

Your eyes widened as he walked over to the side of your bed. You raced in front of him, stopping him. “No! Wait!”

He halted and looked down at you. “What? You going to admit he’s here?” You pulled your lips into a tight line. Hopper sighed and placed a soft hand on your shoulder. “Look, I won’t be mad,” he said calmly.

You blinked, looking up at him. “You won’t?”

“No,” he said softly. “You’re a teenager and…” he trailed off, finding the right words. “And…I guess me setting such harsh ground rules was bound to make you revolt and do exactly what I didn’t want.”

Your expression softened. “Okay,” you nodded, a soft smile on your lips at his understanding. “I may or may not have snuck him in.”

Steve slowly appeared from behind your bed, eyes wide and focused on Hopper.

Hopped nodded slowly, looking down at his feet. “Right…” he muttered. “Right…”

Steve cleared his throat, still on the floor, slightly hidden behind your bed. “Sir, look,” he spoke up, voice cracking slightly. “I’m so sorry. It will never happen again.”

Hopper left out an amused huff of air. “Oh, I know,” he said menacingly.

You swallowed, your eyes wide. “You know?” you repeated.

Hopper nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered, taking careful steps towards Steve. “You wanna know why I know?” he asked, eyes fixated on your boyfriend.

Steve swallowed and scrambled to his feet. “No, not really.”

“It’s because you’re gonna be dead!” Hopper shouted, launching himself at Steve who jumped over your bed with a scream.

“Dad!” you screamed at Hopper. “What the hell?!”

Hopper ignored you, rounding the bed, approaching Steve.

Steve kissed your lips quickly. “Love ya! I’ll see you tomorrow!” he shouted quickly, hopping out the window and booking it right as Hopper caught up at the window.

“Hell no you won’t see her tomorrow!” Hopper shouted. Your dad groaned and raced to the living room, putting his shoes on and darting out the front door to chase him down.

You stood there in shock as El’s bedroom door creaked open. She walked into your room, looking between you and the front door that was wide open. “Those were not happy screams,” she mumbled. “Were they?”

You pulled your lips into a tight line. “No. No they were not.”

[ofthepitt]

Morning worship. Joel Miller.

Warning: This fict contains explicit sexual content, including oral sex, overstimulation, rough intimacy, and dirty talk.

You woke to warmth before you woke to light.

A slow, lazy heat blooming from between your thighs… a soft wet drag that didn’t feel like part of any dream. Your breath stuttered, lashes fluttering as the fog of sleep thinned just enough for you to recognize the weight of two large hands holding your hips steady, thumbs stroking slow, reverent circles into your skin.

And then his voice. Low. Gravelly. Already wrecked.

“’Mornin’, sweetheart.”

You barely managed a sound before Joel ducked back down, mouth sealing over you again, tongue pushing deep like he couldn’t stand to lose even one second of you.

He’d woken you like this before, but never this gentle… never this worshipful. As if he’d been kneeling there for a while, taking his time, learning every sleepy twitch of your body before you even stirred.

You felt the shift of his shoulders as he settled lower, spreading your thighs wider around his head, like he was making a home there.

His beard scratched deliciously as he mouthed at your inner thigh, slow kisses moving closer, closer, until he gave you one long, slow lick that forced your spine to arch off the bed.

“Joel-”

He shushed you with a low hum against your clit, the vibration sending a shiver up your stomach. One of his arms curled around your waist, holding you down, the other sliding up to cup your breast, thumb brushing your nipple lazily like he had all the time in the damn world.

“You just keep restin’, baby,” he murmured between licks, breath hot against your skin. “Lemme wake you up right.”

Then he dove in again.

His tongue worked you like he was savoring something rare; slow circles, then a deep suck that pulled a gasp straight from your chest. Joel groaned when your hips lifted to his mouth, like he loved that he could make you move without even touching you with anything but his tongue.

“God, you taste so good in the mornin’,” he said, voice already ruined. “Best thing I’ll ever fuckin’ have.”

Your thighs trembled around his head, and he just held you there, letting you squeeze him, letting your pleasure take over. He licked you through it, mouth messy, dedicated, shameless.

Every now and then he’d look up at you, eyes dark and warm, like seeing you undone like this was the whole point of waking up at all.

You reached down, fingers threading into his silver hair, tugging just a little just enough.

He groaned, deep and raw, and the sound vibrated straight through you.

“That’s it, darlin’. Hold onto me.”

His tongue flattened, slow and perfect, and your breath buckled.

“Joel… I’m gonna-”

He didn’t let you finish. Just sucked your clit into his mouth and nodded, urging you on, urging you to fall apart for him, with him still kneeling between your thighs like you were something holy he’d never stop praying to.

Your orgasm hit hard sharp, hot, overwhelming and he held you together while you cried out, while your legs shook, while you tried to breathe.

Joel didn’t stop until the tremors faded. Didn’t stop kissing you softly, gently, reverently.

Only then did he lift his head, mouth glistening, beard damp, eyes warm as sunrise.

“Best mornin’ I’ve ever had,” he said, voice thick. “But I ain’t done wakin’ you up yet.”

He crawled up your body, slow and heavy and warm, kissing his way up your stomach, your ribs, your chest, your throat; each kiss a slow promise of what else the morning was about to become.

“C’mere, baby,” he whispered against your lips.

“Let me give you the rest.”

And then,

You were still catching your breath when Joel finally eased out of you, thick and slow, his spend slipping warm down your thigh. Your muscles trembled from the force of your orgasm, but Joel wasn’t moving away.

He kissed your knee.

Then the inside of your thigh.

Then lower.

Your breath hitched.

“J–Joel… wait- I’m still-”

He hummed against your skin, a dangerous little sound.

“I know.”

His hands slid under your thighs, pushing them open again, pinning them to the mattress with a quiet dominance that made your pulse leap. You were already throbbing, oversensitive, every nerve buzzing from the aftershocks. Joel didn’t seem bothered.

If anything, he looked hungry.

He kissed the mess between your legs is his mess, your mess, the mess he’d made with you and groaned low in his chest.

“God, look at this,” he murmured, thumb gently spreading you open. “I fill you once and you’re already dripping for me… Sweetheart, you really think I’m done?”

You tried to squirm, but his hands were already locking your hips in place.

“Joel- it’s too much-”

“That’s alright,” he growled, lowering his mouth again. “I’ll hold you.”

His tongue dragged up your swollen folds, gentle at first, but even that made you gasp like you’d been shocked, your legs trying to snap shut around his head. He kept them open effortlessly, palms firm on your thighs as he licked you slowly, savoring every quiver you couldn’t control.

“Shhh… there you go,” he whispered against you. “I know it’s sensitive. That’s why I want it.”

Then he wrapped his lips around your clit.

You choked on a breath, hands flying to his hair as your back arched.

“Joel-! Too much- I can’t-”

His voice vibrated right against your overstimulated flesh.

“You can. And you will.”

He sucked harder, tongue flicking with deliberate, devastating precision. Your entire body shook, thighs trembling violently as he held you open and kept his mouth sealed to you, unrelenting.

Tears pricked your eyes from the intensity, pleasure so sharp it bordered on painful, dragging you higher no matter how you tried to breathe through it.

“Joel- please-”

He pulled back only long enough to growl:

“Give me another one.”

Before you could even respond, he dove back in.

His mouth was everywhere tongue sliding deep, then circling your clit again, then sucking it between his lips until you cried out. He kept you anchored, kept you spread, kept you his while he devoured you like he was trying to take back everything he’d ever lost.

Your orgasm built fast, too fast that your body convulsing as you shook your head, whimpering:

“N-no- can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” he said, voice low and rough and steady. “Come for me again. Right on my mouth.”

You broke.

Your second orgasm ripped through you like a snapped wire, your hips jerking upward before Joel’s hands forced them down, holding you while you fell apart into his mouth, trembling so hard you nearly sobbed. He groaned like tasting your climax was the last thing keeping him alive.

Even as you curled in on yourself, shuddering, Joel didn’t stop. He kept licking you through it, soft but relentless, drawing every last tremor out of you.

Only when you whimpered his name in a wrecked, breathless sob did he finally lift his head, his mouth wet and glistening, his eyes dark with desire and satisfaction.

He kissed the inside of your thigh, slow and tender.

“You’re not done,” he murmured, voice deep enough to make your stomach twist. “But I’ll give you a minute.”

His thumb brushed your swollen clit and you jolted violently.

Joel smiled; soft, wicked, worshipful.

“Just a minute, sweetheart. Then I’m tasting you again.”

Beg me pardon to Joel wifey if this not as hot as others writers fict... BUT HERE YOU GOOOOOOO. ♡

[ess-evo]

Make It Better

CW: Free Use, forced orgasm, overstimulation, tears, unprotected pinv, creampie, dirty talk, pussy slapping, degradation, praise, established relationship, aftercare

A/N: This is just some filthy fun. Also, as with my other drabbles, picture whichever Joel suits your fancy!

You tried to wriggle out of his grasp, your feet gaining purchase of the end of the bed frame to shimmy yourself up the bed and away from him.

He narrowed his eyes, wrapping his hand around your hip and sliding you back toward him. You'd only managed to move a couple inches, but his cock sliding back into your pussy fully caused you to whimper.

"Thought ya said y'wanted this?" His eyes assessed your condition as he spoke. He knew that you were suffering, and it only made him harder. He loved when you gave him full control.

It wasn't often - the right conditions had to be met. He knew that you needed to feel rested, hydrated, and be in a very particular mood. The kind of mood where you wanted to escape your thoughts; where you needed him to just take over and fill you with anything other than worries.

Joel knew it was one of those days when he got home from work and you had already deep-cleaned the whole house, prepared dinner, and were searching for other areas of the house that you could organize.

Leaving dinner to get cold on the stove, he swooped you up, carried you to the bedroom, and asked, "y'want me t'make it better, honey?"

You'd nodded feverishly, tears already pricking at the corners of your eyes as he leaned in to kiss you.

So now, three orgasms already wrung from you, you were equal parts desperate for relief and for more.

"Tell me you want this," he commanded with a deep voice and dark eyes. If you weren't so familiar with the teddy bear beneath the surface, you'd find him menacing.

His cock continued pushing in and out at an agonizingly slow pace as he waited for your response. The vibrator was pressed firmly to your clit. He told you that you had to keep it there or else he'd punish you.

Your head was fuzzy, and under normal circumstances, you'd find the idea of punishment from Joel arousing, but given your emotional state you knew that you'd become a sobbing mess if he was too rough with you.

"I'm waiting." His patience was sometimes more unsettling than when he was agitated.

You nodded your head, freeing a tear that had been sitting right on the cusp of your eyelid. Joel saw this and the corner of his mouth lifted ever-so-slightly.

"Aw, baby," he cooed, reaching down to swipe the tear away with his thumb. "Need t'hear the words, mkay?"

"I-" you hiccuped a soft cry as you spoke, "I want this."

After a few years of dating, Joel was able to identify when you were bullshitting him and when you were being honest. He didn't like when you pushed yourself past your limits and didn't listen to your body. It had caused a couple arguments in the past, when Joel had realized that he really hurt you and you hadn't spoken up.

He knew you were being honest right now. He could feel it in the way your pussy choked his cock, sucking him in as far as it could.

"Ahhhh," you cried out as you felt your fourth orgasm building.

Your pussy squeezed him impossibly tight and he threw his head back. "Holy fuck," he moaned. "You're clamping down on me so fuckin' hard, baby."

The grip on your vibrator loosened slightly. You were trying to grant your swollen clit just a little reprieve.

"Don't fight it," Joel said as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. "you're not gonna stop 'til I've blown my load, y'hear?"

"Y-yes, Joel."

"Good girl."

His cock was ridiculously hard, it was almost painful. He could feel himself throbbing against your walls as you tightened around him. He was going to force you to hold that vibrator against your poor, aching clit until he came.

He wanted to hold out as long as possible, just to see how much you could take.

Your stomach tightened and you bit your lip as the pressure built. Your body became rigid and still as the orgasm grew to its peak and then washed over you.

Instead of moaning or whimpering, you screamed. It was so intense that you worried for a moment you might lose consciousness.

"Fuck yeah, give it t'me." He fucked you harder as your orgasm worked its way through.

You looked at him with hopeful eyes as you started to come down, thinking that he might finish soon. Those hopes were quickly dashed as you saw the smirk on his face.

"Y'thought I was gonna be done soon?" He laid his hand on top of yours, ensuring that you didn't move the vibrator as you started to come down.

The sensitivity was overwhelming and you started to beg him. "Please, Joel, baby, it's too much. Pl-please." Your body started to shake. All of your nerves were on fire, screaming with voices of their own, as the vibrator continued buzzing on your puffy clit.

Joel watched in awe as your body fought the sensations. He slowed down his thrusts, the most grace he was willing to offer you in the moment.

"You can do it, baby. Look atcha. Look so beautiful like this." His hand stroked your hair as he continued his slow thrusts.

He chuckled, "we're gonna run the battery outta that thing."

You shot him daggers with your eyes which only made him laugh more.

He moved his hand from yours and said, "you know the rules."

Your hand kept a hold on the vibrator, despite the fact that your fingertips were practically numb at this point.

When Joel was assured that you were okay and could take more, he channeled the dominant part of him - the part that wants to take, to ruin, to control.

"Gonna fuckin' ruin 'er," he muttered under his breath. He picked up his thrusts again. "Move it."

You removed the vibrator from your clit, allowing it to rest beside you on the bed. You weren't foolish enough to believe that he was doing it for your sake. You knew him better than that, especially when you caught a glimpse of just how dark his eyes were.

He raised his hand and slapped his palm down on your clit. You shrieked, your body jerking from him.

"She's mine." He slapped your pussy again. "'n I'm gonna do whatever," another slap, "the fuck," another slap, "I want to her."

"Ah, fuck! Joel!" You couldn't help but reach down and push his wrist away from you.

He smiled. He knew you'd let him do more, but he was taking some pity on you. "Put it back."

You obeyed, setting the vibrator against your clit again and squeezing your eyes shut with discomfort as you felt its relentless buzzing meet your aching clit.

"Fuckin' love how she squeezes me when I slap 'er." It felt so degrading for him to talk about your pussy. He hadn't acknowledged you for the past few minutes, only talking to and about your pussy. You felt like an object at his disposal. And it was just what you needed.

"She's mine whenever I want. Always ready to take whatever I'm gonna give." He gripped your thighs hard as he started to piston in and out of you. "Such a good lil hole. That's what y'are, right? My good lil hole?"

Tears were flowing out both of your eyes now. Despite feeling completely drained, your body was somehow working on another orgasm.

"Guess y'can't answer me, huh? Considerin' yer just a cocksleeve f'me." He gave a powerful thrust that caused you to yelp, the head of his cock bruising your cervix.

The coil was tightening again and Joel had the nerve to laugh.

"Can feel ya squeezin' me again, baby. Your poor body can't give up." He picked up the pace, trying to tilt you over the edge.

"Can't wait to drain my balls in your fuckin' cunt. Hurry up, whore. I wanna blow my load, and I ain't gonna do it unless yer squeezin' me tight."

His words brought you right to the edge, but the overstimulation was too big a barrier to let you fall over.

Joel's balls tightened, but he was able to stave off his orgasm. This wasn't his first rodeo, and it wouldn't be his last.

"Gotta empty these balls. Show me what you're good for. C'mon. Give it to me."

Once more, he brought you to the very edge, and then it was gone. You cried out. Real tears streaming down as you started to shake your head.

"Givin' up ain't an option, sweetheart. I could do this for another hour if I need to." He knew he couldn't, but the threat was enough to cause you to focus as hard as you could on releasing.

He saw you trying. He was close to his own release. "Useless slut," he said as he continued thrusting, "y'need help?"

"Y-yes," you were a whimpering mess beneath him and he fucking loved it.

He reached up and wrapped his hand around your throat, applying the perfect amount of pressure. You allowed your body to go slack, aside from the hand holding the vibrator to your clit. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, legs draped off the end of the bed, as Joel used your body just how he needed.

It was pure bliss as your orgasm crested and worked its way through you. A wave of warmth and pleasure crashed down and you shook with the intensity.

Joel kept his hand on your throat, loosening slightly as he felt himself start to erupt inside of you.

"Ohhhh, fuckin' take it. That's it. Take my whole load, baby. Gonna take every, ahh, fuckin' drop." He pushed in as deep as he could, his body folding over your own as his spend coated your walls, pulsing against your deepest spots.

His balls were pressed firmly to your ass and you could feel them throb as he worked through his release.

Warm breath coated your neck, followed by soft kisses. His damp forehead rested against your jaw.

He reached between your bodies to remove the vibrator. Clicking it off, he cast it to the side.

He was careful when he pulled out of you, doing so slowly and gently. You hissed through your teeth as you felt him withdraw. Your whole body felt like it was throbbing and achy, but also satiated and relieved.

He crawled up above you, looping his arm under your back to drag you up to the pillows at the head of the bed.

Kissing your cheek, he said, "be back in a moment."

He returned with a glass of water, a warm washcloth, and your favorite cozy undies and one of his old t-shirts. He knew that you didn't like feeling exposed after sex, especially if it was rough.

He helped you get dressed, peppering nearly every inch of your body with soft kisses, careful to not stimulate you any further. He tilted the glass of water into your mouth, cleaning off the dribble on your chin with his thumb.

"C'mere," he spoke in his most gentle voice.

You curled up into him as he stroked your hair and whispered the sweetest things against your forehead. He mumbled about how much he loved you, how perfect you were, and how lucky he was to have you.

After a few minutes he checked in. "Y'wanna talk about what's goin' on?"

"No," you answered softly but honestly, "I'm better now."

Joel's smile took over his whole face. "Good, that was the goal." He kissed the crown of your head and wrapped his other arm around you, bringing you as close to him as he could.

Tagging folks who showed an interest: @mcthsman @jules6898 @ezraispunk

[sloppysoviet420]

yuuuup