hi !! i know you guys wanted the Summer baby one shot but i just donât have any ideas for those. And i love Baby Luke so muchhh!!!!! 𼚠english isnât my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes or weird sentences <3 requests are always open !!
summary: while filming a buzzfeed puppy interview with maya hawke, natalia dyer and joe quinn, joe keeps getting distracted by something happening just off camera. backstage, youâre holding your one-year-old son, luke, who seems completely fascinated by the puppies running around the set. eventually, joe convinces you to join them inside the enclosure, and the interview quickly becomes less about stranger things and more about watching luke discover puppies for the very first time.
word count: 1.2k+
warnings: fluff, parents!reader, baby luke, puppies, no use of y/n, lots of domestic family moments
The moment you arrived on set, you knew Luke was going to lose his mind.
The entire studio was already loud with conversation, crew members moving equipment around and producers giving last-minute instructions, but none of that seemed to matter to the little boy balanced comfortably on your hip. From the second heâd spotted the enclosure from across the room, filled with what looked like dozens of tiny puppies tumbling over one another, his attention had become completely fixed on them. Every time one barked, tripped over its own paws or wandered across the pen, his eyes followed it immediately, his tiny fingers curling around the shoulder of your sweater as though he was afraid to look away for even a second.
You couldnât blame him.
Even from where you were standing behind the cameras, the puppies were distracting.
A few feet away, Joe was getting his microphone attached while chatting with Maya, Natalia and Joe Quinn, occasionally glancing over whenever he heard Luke making another excited little sound. Each time he looked, he found his son exactly where heâd left him, staring at the dogs with an expression of complete wonder, and each time it made him smile so hard that somebody inevitably caught him.
By the time filming actually started, Joe Quinn had already noticed.
âYouâre doing it again.â
Joe looked over.
âDoing what?â
Joe Quinn nodded toward you.
Immediately.
Without even checking.
Joeâs eyes found you and Luke.
Maya burst out laughing.
âOh my God, he is.â
Natalia followed their gaze before smiling.
Joe looked completely unapologetic.
âWhat?â
âYouâve looked over there like six times in two minutes.â
âHave not.â
âYou absolutely have.â
The interviewer hadnât even gotten through the first question before everybody was already laughing.
From where you stood, Luke seemed completely oblivious to all of it. His attention never left the puppies, his entire body leaning slightly forward every time one wandered close to the edge of the enclosure. It was honestly becoming difficult to hold onto him because every few seconds he would attempt to launch himself in their direction, letting out another tiny gasp whenever one barked.
Joe watched it happen during the second question.
Then the third.
Then the fourth.
Every time he looked over, Luke seemed even more fascinated than before.
Eventually, midway through one of Mayaâs answers, Joe caught you trying to stop Luke from climbing out of your arms altogether.
The look on his face changed immediately.
There was a brief moment where he tried to keep listening.
Tried being the important word.
Then he glanced toward a producer.
Then toward the puppies.
Then toward Luke.
Then back toward the producer.
Maya stopped talking.
âOh no.â
Natalia laughed immediately.
Joe Quinn already knew exactly what was happening.
The producer looked resigned before Joe had even opened his mouth.
âWhat?â
Joe pointed.
The producer followed his gaze.
Luke was practically vibrating with excitement.
A tiny hand stretched toward the enclosure while he watched the dogs run around.
The producer sighed.
âGo ahead.â
Joe looked ridiculously pleased with himself.
You rolled your eyes from across the room as he immediately waved you over.
The gesture wasnât dramatic.
Wasnât attention-seeking.
It was simply Joe.
A silent little movement of his hand accompanied by a smile that made it very clear he wanted both of you closer.
The second you stepped around the cameras and toward the enclosure, several crew members instinctively shifted to make room. Before sitting down, however, you automatically adjusted Luke in your arms, turning him carefully so his back faced the nearest camera. It wasnât something you had to think about anymore. You and Joe had been doing it for so long that it had become second nature, a simple movement that allowed Luke to enjoy moments like these while still keeping parts of his life private.
Joe noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
Without interrupting the interview or drawing attention to it, he subtly shifted his own position as well, creating another barrier between Luke and the nearest camera angle. It happened so naturally that most people probably didnât even realize it, but you caught the movement and smiled softly to yourself.
Satisfied, you finally settled down on the floor near the group.
Lukeâs reaction was immediate.
The second he realized how close he was to the puppies, he froze completely.
For a moment, all he did was stare.
A tiny golden puppy happened to wander in your direction, stumbling over its own feet before reaching Lukeâs shoe.
The little boy gasped.
Not laughed.
Not smiled.
Gasped.
As though somebody had just introduced him to the greatest thing heâd ever seen.
The entire cast collectively melted.
âOh my God,â Natalia whispered.
Maya physically grabbed Joeâs arm.
âLook at him.â
Joe was already looking.
Heâd been looking.
He was probably going to continue looking for the next hour.
The puppy sniffed Lukeâs shoe.
Luke stared back.
Then, very carefully, he reached out one tiny hand and touched the dogâs head.
The smile that appeared on his face was instantaneous.
Joe looked seconds away from tears.
âBuddy.â
His voice came out far softer than intended.
Joe Quinn immediately turned toward him.
âOh, youâre done.â
âWhat?â
âYouâre done.â
Maya nodded.
âCompletely.â
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
Nobody believed him.
Not even remotely.
The interview continued around them, questions being asked and answered while puppies wandered between everyoneâs legs, but every now and then another small moment would happen somewhere beside you and Luke that inevitably pulled everybodyâs attention away from whatever topic they were discussing.
Sometimes it was Luke giggling when a puppy licked his fingers.
Sometimes it was a dog falling asleep against your leg while he watched in amazement.
Sometimes it was simply the expression on his face whenever a new puppy approached him, as though every single one was somehow even more exciting than the last.
By the halfway point of the interview, half the room seemed just as invested in watching Luke as they were in answering questions.
The funniest part was that Luke had absolutely no idea.
As far as he was concerned, none of the cameras existed.
None of the cast existed.
None of the producers existed.
There were only puppies.
Every now and then he would lean back against your chest, letting out a sleepy little laugh while another dog wandered past, and every single time Joe happened to look over at exactly the wrong moment.
Or perhaps the right moment.
Because no matter how hard he tried to focus on the interview, his attention always drifted back.
Always.
The smile on his face never really disappeared either.
It remained there through every question, every joke and every story, growing especially obvious whenever Luke discovered something new. Natalia eventually caught him staring yet again during one of her answers and had to stop herself from laughing.
âYou are literally not listening.â
Joe blinked.
âWhat?â
The entire set erupted.
Even you laughed.
Because unfortunately for him, she was right.
Heâd been looking directly at Luke.
Again.
Joe Quinn dropped his head into his hands.
Maya looked delighted.
Joe looked completely unashamed.
And honestly?
Watching his one-year-old son discover puppies for the first time while sitting safely between you and a room full of friends was probably a lot more interesting than any interview question could ever be.
thank you so much for reading !! đśđ¤ this was honestly just an excuse for me to imagine joe being completely obsessed with his son for a few thousand words đ as always, requests are open and feel free to send me ideas !! love you guys <3
Summary: After a rocky relationship, Steve ends it with you in the middle of a stupid high school party. You still love him, possibly more than anything, but the glance you get before he leaves you in your bedroom might be the last you get. A drunk mess, your little brother Dustin knows you better than anyone.
Warnings: breakup, alcohol use, lots of angst, kind of toxic relationship, major emotional breakdown.
It didnât feel real at first, not when the words first left his mouth.
âMaybe weâre just not right for each other anymore.â
The two of you had been arguing about something or other, as you always were.
When two strong personalities like yours and Steveâs were put together, you could end up with disaster or a masterpiece, and in your case, you two switched between the options.
âWhat?â
You felt something large and heavy lodge itself in your throat, your skull suddenly on fire.
Music kept blasting from the speakers around you, drunk teenagers still dancing and talking as if your entire world wasnât crumbling right in front of you.
You could see in Steveâs face that he didnât mean it, you knew you could.
âWeâre fighting in the middle of a fucking party, is this not an obvious sign to you that weâre not right together?â Steveâs voice trembled, but his words werenât wrong.
Tears began to prick at your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away, determined not to cry in front of him.
âBut- but thatâs what we do, we- we fight. We fight and then we make up and then everything is perfect again.â
Your voice didnât sound like your own, it sounded small and weak and wrong.
You watched Steve look away from you, and you didnât need a mirror to know how hurt you probably looked in that moment.
âThatâs not healthy, y/n.â His voice softened, and when he looked back at you, his eyes had too.
âBut thatâs- thatâs us! I tell you when youâre being an arrogant son of a bitch and you tell me when Iâm being a pain in the ass! Thatâs what we do, thatâs how we work!â Your voice cracked on the last word, tears brimming over and you no longer cared that he was seeing it.
He didnât answer, just bringing his hand up to place it gently on your cheek.
You instinctively leaned your face into it, your eyes half-closed.
âYouâre drunk, y/n.â Steveâs voice carried through the music.
âI love you.â You said, your heart hammering against your ribs.
You were drunk, but the sentiment remained.
âItâs not right. Weâre not right. We hurt each other and we make each other sad, I donât want you to go through that anymore than I want to myself.â
You watched him through your blurring vision, your hands gripping the front of his shirt in desperation.
âSteve, please baby.â You whisper, the tears falling harder now.
âIâm gonna drive you home, okay?â
You felt hands leading you to the front door, two big, strong hands that youâd recognize no matter what.
âSteve.â You said his name again, like if you said it enough, heâd say it was all a prank and he still loved you.
You felt him push you into the passenger seat of his car, while he climbed into the drivers seat.
Just a couple hours ago, you were in these same seats, your lips connected and her fingers intertwined. You had been happy not so long ago, where did that go?
Your face felt incredibly hot, tears still falling as your forehead pressed against the cold window.
âSteve.â His name felt wrong, his name felt painful and sad and heavy, not like it should.
The drive was shorter than it should have been. You had silently wished it would be a forever drive, one that let Steve rethink his decision and tell you he was sorry, that he didnât mean it.
Your eyes opened when you felt Steve pulling you out of the car, and you looked right at his face.
For just a moment, you could have sworn you saw it, tear stains on his cheeks.
You squinted, trying to see if they were really there.
As if sensing your intentions, Steve quickly looked away, half carrying you to your bedroom window.
âHold on.â He whispered, sliding open your window.
He had done that so many times before, late nights where he missed you, ones that would lead to kisses in the dark and snuggles in your bed.
âDonât leave me.â Your voice was hoarse, thick with tears that had finally stopped falling, ready to continue soon enough.
Steve looked at you, his eyes softening, and you knew he almost considered it.
âI have to leave, baby, you know that.â His voice was barely audible.
You felt the tears threatening to spill over again.
âIâm gonna lift you through the window, okay?â
His words felt too casual for the emotion you were feeling.
You didnât fight him, but you didnât help him either.
You felt him pick you up off the ground and set you on the windowsill. He picked up your legs and swung them inside.
You slid onto the floor, turning around to look at him again.
âPlease.â
You couldnât say anything else.
You couldnât tell him how much you loved him, how the mere smell of him was enough to make you smile, how the time you first kissed was still the happiest youâd ever been, how you thought of him whenever you were apart from each other.
âGoodnight, y/n.â
âSteve.â Your voice sounded strained.
He slid the window down.
âSteve!â Your voice cracked, the tears spilling again, faster than before.
He turned around, walking back to his car.
It felt as though something was clawing out of your throat, you had never felt this awful before.
You were still on your knees, your hands going up to the windowsill as your head fell forward.
Sobs escaped your mouth, tearing through the otherwise silent night air.
You barely heard the knock on your bedroom door, only turning around when it swung open.
âHey, I heard you crying, is everything- y/n?â
You saw your little brother, Dustin, and watched the way his face fell when he saw you.
âHeâs gone, Dustin, heâs gone.â The words tumbled out of you between sobs, as you fell back into your windowsill, still sitting on the floor.
âHey, hey itâs okay, Iâm here.â
You felt his hand on your shoulder, and you let yourself fall backwards onto him.
âI messed it up, I messed it all up. Iâm such an idiot, I made him leave.â You couldnât stop yourself from saying these words, the thoughts getting jumbled up in the alcoholic mess in your brain.
âY/n, youâre drunk, okay? You need to go to bed.â Dustin said quietly, one hand rubbing circles on your back and the other attempting to push the hair out of your face.
You let him help you stand slowly, and guide you to your bed.
He slipped your heels off your feet, and covered you with your blankets.
Dustin made sure the blanket covered you all the way up to your chin, and he brushed your hair off your face.
He had turned to leave, but you quickly grabbed his wrist.
âStay?â You whispered, your eyes barely open.
Dustinâs heart melted on the spot, as he watched his big sister fall apart.
He nodded instantly, smiling sadly at you.
âAlways.â
He slipped under the covers next to you, looking at you now that you were face to face.
You had slept in these same positions about a hundred times, after every bad day and every nightmare.
Suddenly, you started to cry again. The tears falling silently, a sniffle slipping out too.
âHey, donât cry, youâre okay.â Dustin spoke softly, pulling his hand out from under the covers and gently wiping your face with his thumb, as you had done for him his whole life.
âI ruined it, I ruined everything. I couldnât just⌠let it go. I had to argue, I had to push back. I had to make him mad, and now heâs gone and itâs all my fault.â Your voice came out all wobbly, making Dustinâs heart break for you.
âYou two fight a lot, huh?â He asked gently.
You nodded.
âWe fight and then we make up. Thatâs what always happens.â
Dustin shrugged slightly, âMaybe youâll make up this time too.â
You shook your head immediately.
âHe meant it. He meant every word, and he was right. He was right and I hate it.â Your voice shook so violently, tears falling faster.
Dustin shushed you tenderly, brushing your hair off your face again and holding your hand. Your interlinked fingers rested on the bed between your faces.
He had watched his sister go through the highs and lows of her relationship with Steve, he was even there when they first started falling in love.
They didnât know it at the time, but Dustin did.
He knew as soon as Steve left the bus to beat up demodogs and you didnât hesitate to follow him.
He knew when Steve dropped him off at the Snowball and he caught him staring at you through the gymnasium doors where you were volunteering.
He knew when he watched you carefully clean up Steveâs cuts and bruises from his time spent underground with the Russians.
He knew when you were sent a vision from Vecna and Steve had almost cried at the thought of losing you.
And now, as he held you in your bed, he knew it was still there. It was bruised, it was bent, but it was there.
But after all the times youâd cried watching the phone, asking why he wouldnât call you after a fight, Dustin also knew that it wasnât good for you, at least not now.
The fate of the world was too much for some relationships to bear.
He had watched you slip in and out of happiness in accordance to your relationship status with Steve.
He knew all these things, and so did you.
Sometimes you wondered what was wrong with you, why you would become so dependent and hyper focused on Steve.
Standing there in the light of the window
Wearing that same smile
Man, it's been a while
But I knew it, I knew you
When your former childhood best friend climbs through your bedroom window with a bruised and battered face, you take care of him but you aren't quite sure if you can forgive him.
pairing: steve harrington x reader
words: 6.4k
contains: eventual fluff, angst, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, description of physical injuries from canon level violence, steve being a dick, elements of king!steve, mild bullying, mention of sex, unrequited (but not really unrequited) love, female reader, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns for reader.
author's note: this was meant to be a blurb but i got into the story too much to keep it that way!
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You met Steve Harrington at five years oldâthe day that your family had moved to Hawkins. Elizabeth Harrington had knocked on your door with a plate full of freshly made brownies and a young boy with his arms wrapped tightly around his motherâs leg.
It took barely any time at all for you to be introduced to each other. Before you knew itâyour mom and his mom were letting you guys run riot while sipping on homemade lemonade in your backyard. His dad and your dad later became business partners. And you and Steve Harrington? Your lives intertwined and you became inseparable. He chased after the boys who pulled your pigtails in the park and you held his hand after the first time his dad had ever properly yelled at him. He was your best friend and you were his.
And somewhere along the way, you had fallen in love with him. You hadnât planned on it, in fact, you had actively tried to stop yourself from developing any sort of feelings for your best friend. But it just sort ofâhappened. You constantly thought of excuses to go over to his house just to see him, you spent way too much time on baking his birthday cake and you had cried yourself to sleep after he had told you his first kiss had been Lucy Hayes behind the bike sheds.
You told yourself youâd get over it. That being best friends was enough.
But then high school happened. High schoolâwhere Steve had slipped into the popular crowd with ease while you remained in the shadows. Where Steve went to parties while you stayed home to do extra credit.
You slowly felt him slipping away from you. He stopped sneaking in through your bedroom window to watch R rated horror movies that he had stolen from his parents VHS collection, he stopped knocking on your door in the morning to take you to school and he didnât come to the annual trip to the lake house the summer after freshman year, opting to stay home and throw a massive party instead.
You told yourself it was fineâthat you were just growing apart but youâd eventually find your way back to each other.
But then in your sophomore year, he invited you to one of his parties and your friendship came crashing down over a game of truth or dare.
You had never seen the Harrington house look so messy.
The front yard was littered with beer bottles and red solo cups, there were several smashed glasses in the kitchen and you swore you even saw a couple rolls of toilet paper hanging from the chandelier in the foyer.Â
All you could think as you sat on the couch in the basement, squeezed between Steve and a very intoxicated Carol was that you hoped for Steveâs sake that Elizabeth and Danny Harrington never saw their house in this state. You were pretty sure Steve would be grounded for life if they did.
You felt Steve shift beside you as he leaned back to take a long swig from his beer, eyes flickering over to you briefly before he looked away.
You werenât entirely sure why Steve had invited you to his party, he had hardly said a word to you all evening and you felt like some pathetic lost puppy waiting for him to come back to you. You had a feeling that he had only invited you to alleviate some of the guilt he may have felt for ditching you last week to hang out with Tommy but you were beginning to wish that he hadnât asked you at all. Parities were not at all your thing but you had wanted to try because it was Steve and your feelings for him made you do things you didnât want to do sometimes. Especially when he looked so stupidly handsome in that green shirt of his.
âAre you sure you donât want a drink?â Steve asks you with a gentle nudge of your arm. The subtle contact sends a jolt through you and you have to force yourself to act natural as you turn to look at him.
âNo, thank you, Iâmââ
ââof course she doesnât want a drink,â Carol slurs from beside you, leaning over you to talk to Steve. You shrink backwards against the couch, mostly to put a little distance between you and Carol and the smell of vodka coming from her that was almost overwhelming. âShe hasnâtââ she hiccuped. âShe hasnât drank allââ she hiccuped again. âAll night. Sheâs such a square.â
You donât say anything but you feel your face grow hot in embarrassment as Carol talks about you like you werenât sitting right next to her. The worst part was that Steve didnât even stick up for you. You hate the fact you werenât surprised by that.Â
Your leg begins to bounce, you were trying to quickly think of an excuse to leave. Not that you really needed one, Steve didnât seem particularly bothered by your presence.
âSteve, I need toââ
The sound of jeering cuts you off and the words quickly die on tongue as Tommy and a few more of Steveâs friends stumble down the basement stairs.
All you wanted to do was leave but Tommy was already squeezing himself between you and Carol and you had no choice but to move closer to Steve, your thigh pressed against his and his arm flush against yours.
The uncomfortableness you felt was churning horribly in your gut, your leg was still bouncing nervously and yet, Steve didnât say anything. He didnât even ask if you were okay, despite his legs lingering on your knee as it bounced anxiously.
âWhoâs up for a game of truth or dare?â Tommy asks, one arm slung around Carol while the other nudges you with a gleeful smile. âMaybe itâll get Little Miss Goody Two Shoes over here to loosen up a little.â
âTommy, letâs notââ Steve begins but the laughter around the room cuts him off. He glances at you, as though he was trying to reassure himself that you were fineâthat this was fine.
You watched as Steveâs friends dared each other to take a shot of hot sauce, to strip off their clothes and jump naked into Steveâs pool. Your stomach turned as you heard them ask each other the most intrusive questions about each other's sex life and at parts, even Steve laughed.
And then, it was your turn.
You shifted uncomfortably, Tommyâs elbow digging into your ribs as you looked to Steve for help. But he was too busy smiling over at one of the cheerleaders to even register your discomfort.
âTruth,â you say finally, figuring that it was the safest option. At least then they couldnât dare you to skinny dip in the pool.
âAre you a virgin?â Carol asks you bluntly.
Your face warms, the answer is written on your face and all you wanted was for Steve to notice your discomfort, for him to helpâ
âI take that as a yes,â Carol mutters audibly as some of Steveâs friends laugh, making your face feel as though it was burning from shame. âNot surprised by thatââ
ââCarol,â Steve says in a half arsed attempt to rein his friend in as you shift in your seat once again, your eyes flickering down to your lap as you avoid eye contact with everyone in the room.
âWhat?â Carol asks Steve as Tommy struggles to keep in his laughter beside you. âI wasnât trying toââ
ââcould you justââ
ââoh câmon, Steve. We just wanna get to know her. Sâonly fair. You lost your v card last month so we were just curious about hers.â
Your entire body turns cold. Everything around you blurs, you feel a strange mix of feeling both too hot and too cold as you turn to look at Steveâwho you find was already looking at you. Of course you were jealous, of course you were upset about Steve losing his virginity to someone who wasnât you and of course it felt as though someone had twisted a knife in your gut at the mere thought of it. But it wasnât just thatâit was also the fact he hadnât told you about it. It made that distance you had felt between you and Steve feel too loud to ignore.Â
âOh, are you jealous?â Tommy asks, nudging you as he takes note of the look on your face with glee. âYou see that, Stevie? Sheâs jealous she didnât get there firstââ
ââdude,â Steve interrupts, the tips of his ears turning red as he looks away from you. âDonât be a dick.â
Despite the fact that Steve had finally stood up for you, you couldnât help but feel it was half hearted. Almost as though Steveâs heart wasnât really in it, as though he was more concerned about what his friends would think of him than whether or not they were making you uncomfortable.
Tommy shrugs, the slight smirk tugging on his lips that told you he was absolutely not done being a dick.
âFine. Whatever,â Tommy mutters with a quick glance your way that Steve doesnât catch. âYour turn then, Steve.â
There was a brief pause where Steve didnât say anything. You could feel his eyes on you and for a moment, you wondered if he was about to ask you if you wanted to leave, if he was finally going to put you before his stupid friends. But then Steve shifted beside and you knew that he had looked away.
âDare,â he says.
You knew almost instantly that Tommy or Carol was going to give him a dare that would somehow upset you. Perhaps heâd dare Steve to make a move on that cheerleader right in front of you, maybe theyâd even go upstairs andâ
âI dare you to kiss the person sitting to your right,â Tommy says, a cruel smile tugging at his lips as he watches Steveâs expression shift. Because the person sitting to Steveâs rightâwas you.
The first thing that you registered in response to Tommyâs dare was the laughter from his and Steveâs friends, it was Carolâs small glance towards you and the way Steve had gone completely still beside you.
âNo,â Steve says simply without even so much as a glance towards you. âNot her. No way.â
The way he said, the finality in his voice made something stir in your gut. Shame, embarrassment, humiliationâyou werenât sure. Perhaps it was a sick connotation of all three that was stirring in your stomach.
Not her, he had said. Like you were the very last person he would ever want to kiss, as though kissing you was in some way repulsive, even. The laughing didnât help, Steveâs friends muttering to each other about your inexperience made it worse and all the whileâSteve Harrington, your best friend since you were five years old, didn't say a damn thing.
And that was your breaking point.
You stand up from the couch, your legs feeling wobbly despite the fact you had only drank lemonade all evening. Your entire body felt hot from embarrassment but now also from the anger that was beginning to rear its ugly head. The anger you had felt towards Steve that you had quietly buried after months of him letting you down, months of cancelled plans, months of him putting his desire to be liked over his friendship with you. You suddenly felt so angry that your hands shook slightly and you knew you had to leave because you were seconds away from bursting into tears.
âOh, look how upset she is Steve,â Carol cooes cruelly, gleefully watching you as Tommy tries (and fails) not to laugh. âShe looks like sheâs going toââ
ââfuck you, Carol,â you spat, white hot anger burning through you now as you turn to look at Steve a final time. You see the panic settle in his eyes as he half rises to his feetâbefore you walk away from himâwalk away from him and his stupid friends, his stupid hair and his stupid handsome face.
You push through the sea of bodies that had congregated in Steveâs living room, not caring that someone had smashed one of Elizabethâs priceless vases or the fact that there was a large stain in one of the rugs. All you cared about was getting out of Steveâs house and as far away from him as possible.Â
You were almost successful. You were halfway down his driveway when the sound of Steve calling out your name as he stumbled after you reached your ears.
âWaitââ he calls out, almost frantic as he manages to catch up with you, his fingers slipping around your wrist in an effort to stop you from leaving. âLet me justââ
ââjust what, Steve?â You snap, unable to keep the anger and hurt out of your voice as you turn to face him fully. You almost wish you hadnât because the look on his face was so desperate that the thought of pulling away from him almost hurt.
âI justâI didnât mean it like that,â Steve says quickly, his chest heaving as he looks back at you. In all the years he had known you, of all the years of friendship he had only seen you angry once before. That time you had spent all day making cupcakes for a bake sale just for Steve to accidentally drop an entire batch of the perfectly iced cakes. You had been so annoyed at him you didnât talk to him for almost two days.
But that was nothingânothingâcompared to the look on your face as you stare at Steve and wait for him to explain himself.
âItâs not that I donât want to kiss you, I justââ
ââoh my god, do you seriously think Iâm pissed off about the dare?â You ask, unable to keep the anger out of your voice as you wrench your arm away from him.
Steve looks slightly hurt at the loss of contact and opens his mouth to respond but youâre quick to cut him off. âI donât give a fuck about the dare, Steve. If the thought of kissing me grosses you out then itâitâs whatever.â
âBut Iââ
ââIâm pissed becauseâbecause you let your âfriendsâ treat me like shit and you didnât say a damn thing about it!â
Steve looks stunned and that only makes the anger coursing through you grow hotter.
âI tried but theyââ
ââwell, you didnât fucking try hard enough!â you exclaim angrily, your voice breaking as the first of your tears started to fall. You felt pathetic, humiliated as tears spilled down your cheeks but most of allâyou were heartbroken that your best friend and the guy you were head over heels in love had become a stranger to you.
Something in Steveâs expression shifts at the sight of your tears. His face softens as he says your name and takes a tentative step closer but you step back. The dejected look on his face when he realises you had stepped away from him seemed to break something in you.
âI wasnât thinking,â he tried to explain and you could almost feel his panicâthe way he was looking at you, the way his fingers twitched as though he wanted to reach for you. âI didnât think theyâd go that farââ
ââbut they did and you didnât s-stop them,â you say, your bottom lip quivering slightly as you harshly wipe away your tears with the sleeve of your cardigan.Â
âIâm soââ
You knew he was about to say sorryâyou knew it by the look on his face and you knew that if he did, that you would want to forgive him. The way you had forgiven him for every other transgression over the past few months because he was your best friend and you loved him.Â
And so, you had to stop him before you forgave him once more.
ââyouâre a coward, Steve,â you say in a voice laced with anger, hurt and every emotion you had been bottling for the past few months while Steve Harrington quietly forgot about you. âYouâre a coward and I donât want to be your friend anymore.â
The silence that greeted your words was one of the loudest you had ever heard.
You werenât even sure if you meant it but you couldnât take it back now.
Steve looked as though his entire world had come crumbling down around him, as though your words had been a dagger that you had driven directly through his chest. You knew it would hurt him, you knew it would upset him and perhaps that was exactly why you had said it.
âOh,â Steve says thickly, swallowing a lump that had risen in his throat as he looked back at you, his big, puppy dog-like eyes almost pleading with you to take back the words that had just left your lips. âIâI see.â
I see. That was all he had to say. After well over a decade of friendship, after years and years of always having your back, years of âIâll always be hereâ and seeing each other's worst and best daysâit would all end over two little words.
You waited. You waited for Steve to argue with you, for him to beg for your forgiveness like he had the last time you were mad at him. But he didnât say a damn thing.Â
âSee you around, Harrington,â you mutter, his surname feeling foreign on your tongue as turn around and walk away from him before you could burst into tears.
And the days that followed, Steve didnât even try to talk to you.
And so, from a distance you watched as Steve Harrington morphed into King Steve. You watched him be a completely different person, watched as he continued to surround himself with people like Tommy and Carol. You heard the parties he threw next door when his parents were out of town that carried on until the early hours or had to be shut down by cops, you heard the way girls he slept with spoke about him and eventually you heard all about him and Nancy Wheeler.
You couldnât deny that hearing about Steveâs life through rumours hurt. Nor could you deny that the ending of your friendship had devastated you in a way that you hadnât been expecting and that watching Steve carry on as normal, seemingly completely unaffected by the end of a decade-long friendship, hurt just as much.
You had almost knocked on his door on his birthday but had stopped yourself. You told yourself not to dwell on the past, told yourself that things changed despite the fact your feelings for Steve never seemed to waver and the fact that you still loved him despite everything.
But that all changed one night in your senior year.
You were drifting in and out of sleep, the rain hammering down outside, smacking loud against your window kept rousing you. But it wasnât until a particularly loud smack against the glass that you finally jolted awake.
You blink, rubbing your eyes sleepily as you glance towards the window to see if it was hailing.
But you nearly scream at the sight of a shadowy figure standing on the garage roof just outside your window.
You open your mouth to yell for your mom but when you realise it was Steve Harringtonâdrenched to the bone, rapping his knuckles harshly against the glassâall thoughts of yelling out leave you.
Instead, you donât move. You barely even breathe. You were in some sort of state of shock at the sight of him at your bedroom window after all these years.
You manage to stand on legs that feel wobbly and unsure of themselves, walking cautiously over your carpet and towards the window.
And when you finally see his face clearly through the window paneâat the dark bruise covering his eye, the blood spatter over his face and look of quiet desperation in his eyes, you unlock your bedroom window without much thought.
Steve stumbles into your room, water dripping down from his hair and his clothes onto your carpet. But youâre too busy gasping at the state of his face to worry about that right now.
âH-hi,â he stammers out, his teeth chattering and his cheeks slightly pink from the cold.
Hi? Was that all he had to say after years of silence? After forgetting about you like it was easy? After he didnât fight for you?
You had the urge to yell, to scream at him but the sight of his beaten face stops you.
âSteve, your faceââ
ââthat bad, huh?â Steve asks, trying to smile but instead wincing in pain.
âSit down,â you tell him, watching as Steveâs eyes flicker around your room, taking in everything that had changed over the past almost two yearsâthe colour of your walls, the posters you had hung up, the polaroids of you and Steve you had taken down. âI um, Iâll get something for your face.â
Steve nods, wincing again as he sits down carefully on the edge of your bed, trying not to completely soak your sheets with rain water as he does so.
You take a deep breath before you turn and leave your bedroom to grab the first aid kit from your family bathroom. Youâre careful to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake your parents who would certainly have a few questions about why your former best friend is sitting on your bed with a bruised and battered face.
You walk quietly back into your bedroom with the first aid kit in your hand to find Steve hadnât moved from the edge of your bed. But he was holding your stuffed teddy bear in his handsâthe one he had won for you at Hawkins Fair when you were twelve years old, the one he had called âLittle Stevieâ before handing it to you with a bright smile on his face.Â
You close the door softly behind you and Steve glances up, carefully placing Little Stevie back down onto your bed.
âYou still have him,â Steve murmurs quietly as you sink down onto the bed beside him.
Your face warms and you hope it isnât noticeable as you open up the first aid kit.
Truthfully, you hadnât thrown out anything that was connected to Steve Harrington. The polaroids were tucked away safely in your jewellery box and even that shell necklace he had made you when he was seven was in a memory box in your closet. You just couldnât bring yourself to throw anything away after the end of your friendship but you also couldnât look at them anymore without something inside of you breaking every time you looked around your room. Little Stevie was the only thing you hadnât put awayâbecause truthfully, you couldnât sleep without it.
But you donât tell Steve that.Â
Instead, you let the silence surround the two of you as you pull out several small gauze pads and antiseptic. Steve lets you work silently as outside, the rain continues to fall, the wind howls and thereâs a distant rumble of thunder.
You start first by pouring a small amount of antiseptic onto a gauze pad before you gently dab it over the small gash on his cheek. He winces and hisses in pain but he doesnât pull away.
âWhat happened?â You ask him quietly a few minutes later, the cuts and blood wiped from his face as you carefully inspect the bruise around his eye.
The sight makes something tighten in your chest. Though you hadnât talked to Steve in two years, of course you heard the arguments that happened next door. Usually after one of Steveâs parties had left the Harrington home in a state. Steve had never had the best relationship with his father as Danny Harrington expected only the best from his son and Steve had never been able to live up to that, even from a young age. But though they argued, you had never thought it would escalate to something physical.
âItâit wasnât your dad, was it?â
âNo,â Steve says quickly, too quickly which makes you look at him carefully, wondering whether or not he was lying for your sake. âReally. It wasnât my dad. I swear. Itâit was Billy Hargrove."
You blink. You hadnât been expecting that. Sure, ever since Billy Hagrove had strolled into Hawkins High like had already owned the place he and Steve had sort of rivalry going on but you werenât aware it was bad enough for Billy to do something like this.Â
âBut whyââ
ââitâs a long story,â Steve says, jaw tight and looking away from you briefly.Â
âThatâs it?â You ask him, pulling away from him as you look from his face to the bloody gauzes that sat in your lap. âYou come into my room after two years of ignoring meââ
Steveâs expression falters and he says your name but you shake your head, getting to your feet and causing the first aid kit to fall to the floor at your feet.
ââno Steve, itâitâs bullshit! Okay? Do you have any idea what it was like for me to watch you slowly decide to just not give a shit about me anymore?â
Steve swallows at the sound of anger in your voice. He knew it had been coming and he knew he deserved it but he didnât know what to say. Because there was no excuse, he knew that he had hurt you in immeasurable ways and he knew he most likely did not deserve your forgiveness. But he wantedâneededâto try anyway.
âI know Iââ
ââand now you show up years later with a busted face and expect me toââ
ââI thought Billy was going to kill me tonight.â
That shuts you up. Your eyes widen and you look at Steve with a horrified expression and in your stunned silence, Steve decides to keep talking.
âI had a moment where he was landing hit after hit after hit I thoughtâI thought âthis is itâ and all I couldâall I could think about wasâit was you.â
Youâre completely taken aback, you were so stunned that you almost forgot to be angry. Almost.
âAll I could think about was howâhow I never got to make things right with you and how much time I wasted caring about stupid shit like being popular. Caring too much about what other people thought of me when it really didnât matter. When I already had someone who liked me for me. And instead IâI treated you terribly, I strung you along and I should never have done that. Not to you. You didnât deserve it.â
Your eyes stung and you had to look away, not wanting Steve to see how close to tears you were. Because the truth was that you missed him. You missed so much that it was almost a physical ache in your chest. You missed the way Steve could make you laugh even when you really didnât want to, the way he used to sometimes snort a little when he laughed really hard and the way you could be completely yourself around him.
Steve says your name again but you donât look at him, instead you sniffle and look down at the first aid kit you had dropped, at the various medical supplies that were now scattered over your floor.
But before you could even think about picking them up, Steve is already doing it for you. You swallow, taking the opportunity to wipe your eyes as Steve bends down, carefully putting the gauze, the bandages and antiseptic bottle back into the box.
He snaps it shut, placing the kit onto bed beside him before he finally looks back at you.
âIâm really fucking sorry,â he tells you, the sincerity in his face making your throat tighten. âFor everything. For being an idiot, for trying to be someone Iâm not. For letting you down, for making you feel like I didnât give a shit about you. Iâm sorry for not standing up for you that night. Iâm sorry I didnât try and fix things after and IâIâm sorry for not saying all this sooner.â
You nod, your bottom lip trembling slightly as you look back at him, slowly sinking back down onto the bed beside him. âYou really hurt me, Steve.â
Steve swallows at that, his eyes turning glassy as he looks back at you. âI know. I wasâa colossal idiot. Thereâs no excuse for it. I hurt you and I wish I could take it all back but I canât. All Iâve wanted to do these past few years is make things right with you butâbut you were right, I was a coward. I was scaredâterrifedâthat you hated me orââ
ââI could never hate you,â you tell him.
Steveâs eyes soften and he looks back at you with a hopeful expression.
âReally?â
You nod, flexing your fingers against your bedsheet nervously as you look at him. âReally. I was hurt, upset and I was angry but I never hated you. I donât think I could ever hate you. Not even for a second. I justâI was worried about you. I didnât want you to become like Tommy or whoever else you were hanging out with because I know thatâs not really you.â
âI was still an asshole,â Steve says thickly, the shame evident on his face as he looks down at his lap. âI still did things and said things that hurt people and I canât take any of it back.â
âNo,â you agree quietly. âYou canât.â
Itâs quiet then between the two of youâthe only sound is that of the thunder rumbling outside. Thereâs a flash of lightning outside your window but still, neither of you say anything.
âIâm sorry too,â you tell him quietly as you look down at your lap. âFor saying I didnât want to be your friend anymore. Thatâthat wasnât true I justâI knew I would forgive you straight away if I didnât.â
Steve shakes his head, corners of his mouth twitching as he hesitantly lifts a hand to rest on your shoulder. His touch alone sends something hot and electric coursing through your body. âPlease donât be sorry,â he tells you. âI should have grovelled for forgiveness and I didnât. I wasâfuckâI was such an idiot that night. I didnât have your back the way I should have done and Iâll never forgive myself for that. For upsetting you, for making you cry, for letting people talk about you like that.â
âYou have no idea how much I think about that night and hate myself for what I did and what I didnât do. How fucking stupid I feel for letting the best thing that has ever happened to me walk away without a fight.â
You turn to look at him, your expression softening slightly. âSteveââ
ââno, I mean it,â Steve insists, turning to face you fully now as he grabs one of your hands and squeezes it gently. Water drips down from his hair and onto your skin but you couldnât care less as his touch warms something in you. âYou are and Iâm sorry it took me losing you and almost dying to realise that. I was justâI couldnât admit it to myself. I was stupid. So stupid. And I thinkâI think I was scared to be honest with myself.â
Your brows furrow at that while your heart pounds against your chest. âHonest about what?â You ask him quietly.
Steve looks at you for a long moment before he reaches for your other hand. You let him take it as the look in his eyes keeps you rooted to the spot.Â
âThat I was starting to fall in love with you and I got scared.â
All the air leaves your lungs at that admission. Out of all the things you had expected Steve to say when he climbed in through your bedroom window, you had never in your wildest dreams expected him to say that.
âI wasâshitâitâs so fucking stupid now that I think about it but I justâthose feelings scared the shit out of me. I meanâyou were my best friend and yet, I was always fucking thinking about you. And so, I did all stupid shit to try and forget about you and it never worked. I partied, I listened to Tommy when I fucking shouldnât have, I messed around because I thought Iâd get over you.â
âI even lost my fucking virginity while wishing it was you beneath me the entire time. Nothing workedânothing ever worked and so IâI thought distance would help but it didnât and I let you down. I made promises and didnât keep them. I made you think you were unimportant to me when you were the most important person in my life.â
âSteveââ
ââand that nightâthe night when Tommy gave me that dareâI didnât kiss you because I was grossed out by you. God no, far from itâof course I wanted to kiss you. But I didnât wanna do it if it was just a dare.â
âSteveââ
ââI justâI wanted it to be real and not at a party, not in front of Tommy and Carol or any one of those other assholes andââ
âSteve!â
Steve shuts up almost instantly. His eyes were wide and his hands were still holding yours tightly as though he was trying to ground himself.
You look back at himâat the guy you had loved for longer than you could rememberâand you couldnât bring yourself to be mad at him anymore.
âYou knowâI never threw anything away,â you tell him quietly. âI justâI couldnât bear to look at things that reminded me of you because it hurt too much. Because missing you was likeâit was like a constant physical pain. Something I couldnât get rid.â
âReally?â Steve asks quietly.
âYeah,â you say. âI even kept the shell necklace.â
Steve blinks once, twice before he laughs and the sound brings you the sort of warmth that even fire couldnât ever bring you. You felt it in every pore, every nerve, every cell in your body. It made you feel lighter, made the storm outside feel insignificant.
âWhy would you keep that?â Steve asks, still laughing quietly to himself. âIt was so heavy andââ
ââbecause you made it for me,â you say simply with a small smile. âAnd thatâthat meant it was important to me.â
Steve blinks. He looks back at you with an unreadable expression as his thumb drags itself across the skin of your hand and seems to steal the air from your lungs.
âI made you it because the shells reminded me of you,â Steve murmurs fondly, eyes seeming to shine as he looks back at you. âI thought the shells were pretty andâI thought you were pretty too. Prettier than the shells, obviously.â
Your face feels hot and it was near impossible to fight back the smile on your face now.
âYou told me you were practising for art class,â you say quietly, head tilting to the side as you look back at him.Â
Steve smiles a little before shaking his head. âI lied. I was trying really hard to impress you but seven year old me had no game.â
You laugh then and you see the way Steveâs eyes light up, the way he canât help but smile when he hears your laugh, when he was finally the reason behind it again.
âYou didnât have to do anything to impress me Steve,â you tell him after a moment with a soft smile. âYou already did.â
There was silence again and thenâ
âDo you meanââ
ââyeah,â you breathe out, unable to look away from him as you squeeze his hands a little tighter. âIâIâve been in love with you for a really long fucking time, Steve.â
The moment that follows felt as though it lasted for a lifetime. Steve was looking at you, seeming to forget how to breathe and you begin to wonder if you had been too forward when one of Steveâs hands slips out of yours to gently cup your face.
âThe feelingâs pretty fucking mututal,â he murmurs before his lips seal over yours in a kiss that took your breath away.
Everything seems to slow down around you. You were vaguely aware of the first aid kit clattering to the floor as you kiss him back with no hesitation. your fingers sliding into his still damp hair while his hands gently cradle the back of your head.
Youâre already breathless, unable to think of the world that existed out of Steve Harringtonâs lips against yoursâno thoughts about the rain splattering against the window or of the lightning that flashed across the sky outside. Because everything seems so dull in comparison to Steveâs lips moving against yours, against his hands that you were holding you like you were something sacred.Â
He was the first to pull awayâcatching his breath as his eyes couldnât help but flicker down to your lips that were wet, swollen and so inviting that he already wanted to dive back in again.
But he also knew he had to earn your forgiveness first and that wouldnât involve being twisted in the sheets together.
âLet me take you out tomorrow night,â Steve murmurs, his thumb gently wiping away a smear of his saliva from your lips and trying not to give in. âMake up for lost time, yeah?â
You smile a little as you consider his offer, your eyes flickering over the bruise on his face. âLetâs wait until the bruise fades first, yeah?â
âOh,â Steve says, trying to keep the disappointment out of his face as he looks back at you. âYeah um, totally Iââ
ââbut I wouldnât be opposed to a movie night,â you say with a small smile. âIf you were to come up to my bedroom window again with a few movies I probably wouldnât say no.â
Steve blinks but thenâhe smiles and he looked so devastatingly handsome that it was difficult to not pull him in for another kiss.
âItâs a date,â he tells you, leaning in to press a gentle but firm kiss to your forehead. âLittle Stevie can join us too.â
You laugh and Steve canât help but join youâthanking his lucky stars that you had opened your window for him.
eventual james potter x fem!reader; inevitable angst and annoyance as james slowly matures over his time at hogwarts. slowburn. total word count: 53.7K
girl I just can't get over the byers reader fic u wrote. needing more that if ur up for it
love your writing, have a good dayyyy <3333
funny running into you here
pairing: steve harrington x byers!reader
summary: request above! i combined these two asks<3
word count: 1.2k
content warnings: steve and jon hate each otherâwhat else is new?? banter, steve is annoying (fond), will is a cutie pie and a little shit, not proofread
authorâs note: hi angels <33 ty ty ty for requesting! i hope you like this sweethearts and thank you for being so patient
Ëâŕżŕťâ â
The sunâs setting when Jon pulls into the parking lot of the local theatre. He lets the engine run idly as he lets Will stuff as many gas station snacks into your purse as he can.
The likelihood that the three of you still get a bucket of popcorn is high but youâd be damned if you paid for the overpriced candy choices when you could get them for half off just down the road.
âOkay, WillâI love you kiddo but you need to stop buying the family sized twizzlers. One, they never fit in the bag and two, you never finish them!â You growl out as you watch him attempt to rip your purse clean open.
âIt will fit!â He insists with a frown, huffing as he tries to force it down but when you hear the echo of a tear through the car you scowl and snatch your purse back to you.
âLeave them in the car or youâre getting locked in here.â You threaten him with a pointed finger.
Jonathan lets out a snort of laughter as he blows out a smoke cloud through the cracked window.
âShe will actually leave you here,â your older brother comments.
Will frowns, âfine.â He agrees dully.
With a shared look of exasperation with Jonathan, you all climb out of the car.
Your purse is only slightly suspiciously bulkyâenough that the teens working for minimum wage probably wonât care enough to check.
Youâre walking through the doors, debating with Jon about how much butter is too much butter to put on the large popcorn bucket youâre bound to share between you three when you hear your voice being called.
You still. You know that voice.
Jesus Christ do you wish you didnât know that voice.
âHey!â Steve greets cheerily, walking up to the three of you with a smug grin on his face.
Your face drops and you notice Will stifling a laugh.
Your cautious peering at Jonathan confirms what youâd already assumedâheâs scowling and glaring something fierce at Steve.
âHey?â You say incredulously.
âWhy are you here?â You hiss out, lifting both of your arms to swat at Steveâs letterman covered chest.
âI was in the area,â he replies matter of factly.
You hear Jonathan mutter something under his breath and with a quick glare to shut him up, you turn back to the original offender.
âYouâre a piece of work you know that?â You huff out, flicking him upside the head and ignoring his yelp as you turn on your heel and drag both a smirking Will and eerily silent Jon to the concessions stand.
âWell, since Iâm hereââ Steve begins happily, seemingly choosing to ignore the frosty atmosphere heâd been greeted with.
âNo.â You and Jonathan chorus together, instantly whipping your heads to stare at each other with matching scowls.
No DNA test needed apparently.
âYou donât even know what I was going to say!â Steve whines out in complaint, frowning at you as if youâre being the unreasonable one.
âYou were going to ask to sit with us,â You start, making Steveâs protests down.
He shrugs weakly, looking as innocent as can be.
âAnd the answer would be no.â You say firmly.
âWhat? Why!â He shouts immediately, his expression annoyed. Heâs immediately frowned at by multiple other customers to which he waves off with his suave smile that has Jonathan scoffing again.
You elbow him softly in his ribs, feeling the breath of air he lets out in a grunt against your necks you stare Steve down.
âCâmon,â he pleads fruitlessly with you. âI came here all by myselfâyou wouldnât let your best friend sit all alone would you?â
He pouts. Unfortunately for you, you find it simultaneously cute and hilarious.
You sigh exhaustively.
âTuck that bottom lip away Harrington, you can sit with us,â he brightens immediately like a dog with a bone.
You hear Jonathan starting to voice his protests but you only louden your voice.
âIf you promise to behaveâ you reprimand him.
âYou talk to me like Iâm an untrained dog sometimes, you ever realise that?â Steve huffs, crossing his arms petulantly.
You only stare him down hardly.
âFine,â he mutters under his breath. âI promise, okay?â He says quickly under your glare.
You hum in acknowledgment, turning away from him as you shuffle up to the counter to order your snacks.
When Steve hands over his card with the intention to pay, you all but swat at his hands and toss the money you and Jon had brought at the unsuspecting teen.
âBut Iâm the piece of work.â You hear Steve mutter under his breath as he stomps childishly behind you, arms full with a bucket of popcorn and his own soda.
Before you have the chance to retort, you hear the echoing sound of Steveâs yelp and when you turn around youâre greeted with the sight of Steve rubbing at his shin with a pained grimace and an all too innocent looking Will with a serene smile on his face.
âBrat.â You hear Steve mutter fondly.
âAsshole.â You hear Will huff.
âLanguage.â You and Jonathan chorus again simultaneously, this time and expression of dawning horror on both of your faces.
âItâs like theyâre morphing into one.â Steve whispers conspiratorially with the youngest Byers, delighting in the small giggle his comment elicits.
âAnd itâs almost like we can hear your smartass remarks Steven.â You remark cheerily, not turning around.
Steve feels his face heat at your comment, butterflies swarming his tummy in multitudes as he huffs a fond laugh.
âYouâre pathetic,â he hears Jonathan snort, not realizing the older boy had slowed down in his walk with you to walk next to Will.
Steve frowns, indignation flaring inside of him as he opens his mouth to protest.
âWhatever youâre gonna sayâcan it. I already know youâre obsessed with her.â Jonathan cuts him off with a small smirk, shaking his head.
If Steve thought his tone sounded almost akin to fondness, that was between him and his inside voice.
When you all walk inside the theatre, Steve is surprised to see it almost full.
Thereâs just enough seats for the four of you to fill up so when Steve catches sight of you taking the sight down the middle of the aisle, he jogs slightly to get the one next to you.
Only to be cut off by Will, who saddles up next to you with little fanfareâalready digging through the apparent snack aisle youâd managed to sneak into your bag.
He relents nonetheless, moving to take up the other seat to your sideâonly for Jonathan to already be occupying it.
âOh,â you say softly, humour in your voice. âNo worries Steve, thereâs still a seat next to me!â Will remarks happily, though Steve detects the note of amusement in his tone.
Brat.
âThanks,â he says belatedly, taking the seat half-heartedly as he stares woefully at your form over the top of Wills head.
The projector whirs slightly as it powers up and as you turn slightly, you catch Steveâs eyes.
Heâs doing that sad puppy dog thing again, frowning emphatically and fluttering his eyelashes obnoxiously.
You sigh exasperated, but a smile blooms across your face at his dramatics.
You lift your hand over the top of Willâs shoulder, cuddling him into you but letting your arm hang loosely over the seat.
Steve lights up, lifting his own arm and placing it softly over your own and running his fingers over your bicep softly, smiling as he feels you shudder at the sensation.
hii so like it starts where reader and joe are both in bed lying down and they kiss and reader gets caught off guard cus shes distracted by joeâs nose always bumping into hers and she loves it. But what she loves more is joeâs nose whenever he goes down on her
"Nose bumps & midnight pleasures"
ââË.â Joe Keery x reader ââË.â
english is not my language please be kind and sorry if i wrote wrong :) requests are open if you want!
summary: Lazy kisses in bed with Joe lead to nose bumps that distract and arouse you...
You lie in the soft tangle of sheets, the room dimly lit by the warm glow of a single bedside lamp. The city hums faintly outside the window, but inside, it's just the two of you, JoeÂ
and you.Â
His long limbs are stretched out beside yours on the king sized bed, his body heat radiating through the thin fabric of his t-shirt and your oversized sleep shirt. You've been dating for months now, but nights like this still feel electric, like the first time every time. His dark hair is tousled from running his hands through it earlier during dinner, and those expressive brown eyes lock onto yours with that signature half smile that always makes your stomach flip.
Joe shifts closer, one arm sliding under your shoulders to pull you in.
 "Come here," he murmurs, his voice low and rough around the edges, the way it gets when he's relaxed and wanting.
 You turn toward him, your legs brushing against his under the covers, the mattress dips slightly as he leans in, and then his lips are on yours, soft at first, a gentle press that deepens quickly. His mouth is warm, tasting faintly of the mint toothpaste you both used after brushing your teeth together. You sigh into the kiss, your hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your palm.
But almost immediately, you're caught off guard; Joe's nose, prominent, perfectly imperfect, the one fans obsess over in every close up shot, bumps gently against yours.Â
It's not a hard clash, just a subtle nudge as he tilts his head for a better angle. You pull back a fraction, eyes fluttering open in surprise, a small laugh bubbling up in your throat. "Sorry," he whispers against your lips, grinning that boyish grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes. But you shake your head, pulling him back in.Â
You love it.
 The way his nose brushes yours again and again as the kiss intensifies, like an accidental caress that sends little sparks down your spine. It's so him, endearingly awkward in the best way, a reminder that this isn't some polished movie scene.Â
This is real, messy, intimate.
You deepen the kiss, your fingers threading into his hair, tugging lightly. Joe's tongue traces the seam of your lips, and you open for him, melting as he explores your mouth with slow, deliberate strokes.
 Another bump of his nose, this time against your cheek as he angles deeper, and you can't help the soft moan that escapes you. He notices, of course he does, Joe always notices the little things. He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through your joined mouths.
 "What?" he mumbles, breaking just enough to speak.
"Your nose," you admit breathlessly, your cheeks warming. "It keeps... bumping me. I love it."
His eyebrows lift in that playful, surprised way he has, like you've just handed him the best compliment in the world.
 "Yeah?" He nuzzles closer deliberately this time, letting the tip of his nose drag along the bridge of yours before capturing your lips again.
 The contact is firmer now, intentional, and it makes your pulse race. You press into him, bodies aligning side by side under the sheets, legs tangling, his hand slides down your side, fingers skimming over the curve of your hip, pulling you flush against him. You can feel him hardening against your thigh, the evidence of his arousal making heat pool low in your belly.
The kissing goes on like that for what feels like hours, lazy and heated all at once. Every tilt of his head brings another brush of his nose, sometimes grazing your upper lip, sometimes nudging your cheek. It's distracting in the most delicious way, pulling your focus from the slick slide of tongues to the unique texture of him. You love how it feels slightly cool at first compared to his warm mouth, then warms with shared breath. You love the way it makes the kiss imperfect, human, yours.Â
Joe seems to revel in it too, now that he knows. He experiments, rubbing his nose against yours between kisses, laughing softly when you shiver.
Eventually, his hand slips under the hem of your shirt, palm flat against your stomach, inching upward. Your breath hitches as his fingers find your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it pebbles under his touch.
 "God, you're so responsive," he whispers, voice husky, he kisses you harder, nose bumping insistently now, and you arch into him, craving more contact.
 The sheets rustle as you shift, rolling halfway onto your back. Joe follows, propping himself on one elbow, his body half covering yours without crushing you. His free hand continues its exploration, mapping the familiar curves of your body like he's memorizing them anew.
You tug at his t-shirt, impatient now
. "Off," you murmur between kisses, he obliges, sitting up briefly to yank it over his head, revealing the lean, toned torso you've traced with your fingers a hundred times.
 The sight of him makes your mouth water.
 He returns to you immediately, lips crashing back onto yours. Nose bump, heart skip. You smile into the kiss, and he feels it, smiling back.
His mouth trails lower after a while, leaving a path of wet kisses along your jaw, down your neck. You tilt your head, giving him access, and he sucks lightly at the sensitive spot just below your ear, earning a gasp. His nose nuzzles there too, the combination of soft lips and firm nose tip driving you wild. Down further, he pushes your shirt up and off, tossing it aside. Cool air hits your skin, but his warmth chases it away as he lavishes attention on your breasts. He takes one nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling, while his nose presses into the soft flesh of the other.
 The dual sensation, wet heat and that perfect pressure, has you threading your fingers through his hair again, holding him close.
"Joe..."
 His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he hums in response, the vibration shooting straight to your core.
 You're already wet, aching for him, but he's taking his time, building it slow. His hands roam, one slipping between your thighs to tease at the edge of your panties. You buck against his fingers, seeking friction, but he pulls back with a teasing grin, nose brushing your sternum as he looks up at you.
"Not yet," he says, voice low. "I want to taste you first."
Your heart pounds as he kisses his way down your body, over your ribs, your stomach, lingering at your hips. He hooks his fingers into your panties and slides them down your legs, discarding them. You're bare to him now, and he settles between your thighs, broad shoulders spreading you open.Â
The anticipation coils tight in your belly.
 You've always loved this with Joe, the way he devours you like you're his favorite meal but tonight, your mind keeps drifting back to that nose of his.Â
The way it bumped during kisses. What it might feel like hereâŚ
Joe starts slow, pressing open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, his breath hot against your skin. His hands hold your hips steady, thumbs stroking soothing circles. Then, finally, his mouth is on you.
 A long, flat lick from your entrance up to your clit has you moaning loudly, back arching off the bed. He groans at your taste, the sound muffled against you.
 "Fuck, you taste so good," he murmurs, the words sending vibrations through your folds.
And there it is, his nose.
 As he buries his face deeper, working his tongue in slow circles around your clit, the bridge of his nose presses firmly against your mound, nudging with every movement.
 It's perfect.Â
The slight pressure, the way it shifts as he eats you out, rubbing just right against your sensitive skin. You love the kisses, but thisâŚthis is something else entirely.Â
The nose that distracted you so sweetly during that makeout session is now an instrument of pure pleasure, grinding subtly against you as his tongue delves inside you, lapping at your wetness.
"Oh god, JoeâŚyour nose," you gasp, unable to hold back the words.Â
Your hands fist the sheets, then move to his hair, guiding him without forcing, he looks up at you, eyes dark with lust, lips glistening. That nose, slightly shiny now with your arousal, bumps against your clit as he pulls back to breathe, and the friction makes stars burst behind your eyelids.
"You like that?" he asks, voice thick, he does it again deliberately, rubbing the tip of his nose up and down your slit before flicking his tongue over your clit. "Tell me."
"I love it," you whimper, hips rolling against his face. "The way it feels...fuck, it's so good down here."
Joe's response is a deep, satisfied hum, then he dives back in with renewed vigor, nose pressing harder, sliding through your folds as his tongue fucks into you in rhythmic thrusts. The combination is overwhelming, It's like he's everywhere at once, consuming you.Â
You can feel the build up already, that tight coil winding faster than usual because of this new focus. His hands slide under your ass, lifting you slightly for better access, and he buries himself deeper, nose nudging insistently, rubbing side to side in a way that has you crying out.
The room fills with the sounds of it; your ragged breaths, his muffled groans of enjoyment, the obscene wet noises of his mouth on you. Sweat beads on your skin as you writhe beneath him. He switches techniques, sucking your clit between his lips while his nose continues that perfect pressure lower down, then flattening his tongue and letting his nose take the lead on your most sensitive spot. Every bump, every glide of that feature against your pussy sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core.
"Joe, I'mâŚI'm close," you pant, thighs trembling around his head.Â
He doesn't let up, doubling down, his nose presses firmly against your clit now, rubbing in tight circles while his tongue laps at your entrance, pushing you right to the edge. You come hard, hips bucking wildly against his face, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as waves of ecstasy crash over you and he rides it out with you, nose and mouth working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you're shaking and oversensitive.
But Joe doesn't stop, he gentles his touch, licking you softly through the aftershocks, his nose still nuzzling gently, almost affectionately now.Â
"That's my girl," he whispers against your thigh, pressing a kiss there.
 His face is flushed, lips swollen, nose glistening. The sight of him like that makes fresh heat stir in you.
You tug him up, needing to kiss him, to taste yourself on his lips, he crawls up your body, and when your mouths meet, his nose bumps yours again. You laugh breathlessly into the kiss, still riding the high.
 "I love your nose so much," you confess between pecks. "In every way."
Joe grins, settling his weight on you carefully, his erection pressing hot and heavy against your stomach.Â
"Good because I love using it on you."
 He kisses you deeply, letting you taste the evidence of your orgasm, his hands roam again, reigniting the fire. You reach between you, wrapping your fingers around his cock, stroking him slowly. He's rock hard, leaking at the tip, and he groans into your mouth at your touch.
The night stretches on⌠and by the time exhaustion claims you both, the sheets are twisted and damp, the room smelling of sex and sweat.
 You're curled against his chest, his arm around you, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back, his nose nuzzles the top of your head, and you smile sleepily.
 "Best distraction ever," you murmur.
Joe chuckles, the sound rumbling under your ear.Â
"Anytime."
 He kisses your forehead, nose brushing your skin one last time. Sleep comes easy, wrapped in him, dreaming of more nights just like this.
Summary: You are not comfortable in your body, and you are not comfortable with sex. But at least you have your crush good friend Steve Harrington by your side.
Word Count: ~13k
Warnings: 18+ please MDNI!!!! language; frank discussions of sex & anatomy; body insecurity, and underage drinking; reader has a debilitating fear of sex and intimacy and is simultaneously touch-starved and touch-averse; mentions of masturbation; making out; there is a smut-adjacent scene at the end [dry humping] but I don't even know if it's enough to call it "explicit." I was going to write more and then got too stressed to, so the actual smut is fade-to-black. Sorry y'all lol
a/n: I hope this is relatable to someone out there. I hope it makes them feel less alone. Tagging my usual tag list and a few mutuals who may be interested (but no worries if not, this is different than my usual fare): @aloneinthehellfire @starry-eyed-steve @scaredofbeingbasic @roanofarcc @thecreelhouse @curiositydooropened
Also ty @tinfoileddd and @stevebabey for encouraging me to still write and post this when I wasn't sure about it!! I appreciate it tenfold!!!
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You have never felt all that comfortable in your body.
You donât hate it, but you donât love it. Seeing yourself in the mirror is like seeing a loose acquaintance and having to force yourself to be polite: Oh, you again. Hey. Howâs it going?
Youâre also not all that comfortable with sex. Or the idea of it, because youâve never had it. Your best friend, Heather Holloway, lost her virginity at a house party at 16, probably at the exact same moment you feigned a stomachache to get out of playing 7 Minutes in Heaven.
Maybe itâs a side effect of your insecurity, or of being raised in a small, conservative-leaning town stuck in its purity culture ways, but the thought of intimacy terrifies you. Letting your guard down and being that vulnerable with another human being feels like the sword of Damocles swinging above your head, ready to chop you in two.
In the summer of 1985, a few weeks after high school graduation, youâre at the Holloway house for a spa night (i.e., painting your nails and drinking wine you pilfered from Mrs. Hollowayâs wine fridge). Heather asks you if you really want to be a virgin before college.Â
âVirginity is a construct,â you reply, quoting something you read in a zine you bought from a bookstore in Indianapolis.Â
âRight, sure,â Heather says flippantly. She shakes one hand, trying to air-dry her Passionate Plum manicure. âBut donât you want to have at least some experience? Because you donât want your first sexual encounter to be with some drunk frat bro who canât find the clit.â
âOhmigod Heather,â you say, embarrassment and anxiety washing over you at her crass words.
âWhat?! Iâm just saying! We should hook you up with someone before we leave in the fall.â
âLeaveâ was a strong word. You and Heather were going to Cartersville University for college, barely 30 minutes away.
âOoh, you know what I heard,â Heather says, leaning in conspiratorially. You can smell the Pinot Grigio on her breath. âSteve Harrington is, like, desperate for a date. He asks out every girl our age who comes into Scoops. You should go after him.â
âI donât really want to âgo afterâ a guy who asks out everyone,â you say, fidgeting with your fingers and already wanting to chip off the baby blue nail polish you haphazardly applied.
Heather shrugs. âSuit yourself. You might regret that, though, because everyone says heâs likeâŚyou know.â
She makes some sort of motion with her hands. Youâre not sure if you donât understand it because of your lack of sexual experience or because sheâs not adequately expressing whatever sheâs trying to. You blink, and Heather huffs. âHeâs hung, Y/N. All the girls at school say so.âÂ
You arenât sure if this conversation makes you want to laugh or cry, so you change the subject by picking up the half-empty bottle and gesturing to Heatherâs plastic cup. âWant more wine?âÂ
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Less than a week later, Heather calls you in a panic.
âPlease,â she begs. âSomethingâs wrong with my mom! She passed out after dinner. My dad took her to the hospital but Iâm really, really scaredâŚI donât want to be alone!âÂ
Your parents are out of town caring for a sick relative, so you have no curfew to adhere to and book it to her house on your bike. But after you ring the doorbell and she lets you inside, you instantly get the feeling something is wrong.
âWhy is it so cold?â you ask, a shiver involuntarily running through you. Goosebumps raise on your arms and legs, and you donât understand how Heather is comfortable in a tank top and shorts when it canât be more than 60 degrees inside her house.
Heather doesnât respond. Instead, she almost robotically sits on the couch and puts her head in her hands. You take a seat next to her and place a comforting hand on her shoulder.
âDonât worry,â you soothe. âYour mom is going to be all right.â
âNo, she isnât!â Heather says, voice muffled in her hands.Â
âShe will! You just have to be positive. The doctors will figure out whatâs wrong with her.â
Still with her face covered, Heather says, âDo you think theyâll figure out whatâs wrong with you?â
You frown, brows pulling together. âW-what?â
In one swift motion, she pulls a rag out from a couch cushion and covers your mouth with it. You try and fight back, but you feel the pull of sleep calling you.
Her expression is devoid of emotion. âSorry, Y/N,â she says, as your consciousness wanes. âBut He told me He needs more.â
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For the next few days, you become Billy Hargroveâs second-in-command. The creature possessing you seems to like that youâre mousy and insecure. Youâre easier to break. Easier to control.
When youâre under the Mind Flayerâs influence, you feel like youâre watching yourself through a pane of glass. Your mind screams at your body to Stop it! Stop! as you knock Mike Wheeler unconscious in the back hallways of the mall. But itâs no use. As long as the Mind Flayer has its hooks in you, youâre forced to be a bystander to your own life.
It changes when you get to the mallâs main atrium: Billy has Eleven in his clutches, and youâre standing nearby in case he needs backup. The fireworks are burning your skin from the inside out, and your ears are ringing, so you donât hear what El says to Billy. But something in his expression shifts. You watch the darkened veins on his face and arms fade.Â
He looks up at you, and sees your skin still covered in those veins.
âWhat are you waiting for?â you hear yourself ask. âGive her to Him!â
Donât! you scream inside your mind. God, please, donât do it Billy.
âIâm sorry,â Billy says, remorse flashing on his face when he realizes what heâs done under the influence of a monsterânot just to you, but to El, to Heather, to everyone else making up the Mind Flayerâs physical form. âIâm so, so sorry Y/N.â
You blink, surprised, even more so when he turns toward the creature thatâs been controlling you two for days. He grapples with one of its tentacles, and then the creature impales him with another. You scream in pain and fall onto your back a few feet away, the pesky hive mind keeping you connected. His pain is very much yours.
âYou have to fight it!â someone shouts, from somewhere in this godforsaken mall. Easier said than done.
You close your eyes and try to force the Mind Flayer out of your head. Heâd been feeding on your darkest memories to keep you in control, so maybe you could take back over by focusing on happier ones: Meeting Heather in 3rd grade and making a best friend for the first time in your life. Riding bikes through town. Swimming at the pool every summer. Dancing wildly at the Snow Ball. Weekend trips to Indianapolis with your family. Cheering Heather on as she won prom queen, just a few weeks ago.
You focus on the good, and the bad sloughs itself out of you in a big rush. Just in the nick of time, too. You sit up, feeling woozy, and watch as the Mind Flayer falls to the ground, very much dead.Â
A few feet away, you watch Billyâs stepsister, Max Mayfield, cry for him. Eleven comforts her. You stagger to your feet, unsure of what to do or where to go.Â
You fail to blink back tears, and they roll down your face when the gravity of whatâs happened sinks over you.
âH-Heather,â you sob. âNo! No!âÂ
You fall to your knees in front of the corpse of the Mind Flayer, sobbing into your hands.
âIt isnât your fault.â
You whip your head to the side, where Will Byers stands. Heâs looking at you with empathy, and is treating you more kindly than you expected this crew to after everything that happened.
âWhat he did to you,â Will says, nodding toward the monster. âAnd what he made you do, it is not your fault. Trust me, I understand that more than anyone else here.â
You arenât sure what he means by that, but you simply offer a hoarse, âThank you.âÂ
Steve Harrington, whose face is bloodied and bruised in a way that makes you feel sick, walks up to you next.
âHey, Y/N,â he says softly, but thereâs a trace of urgency laced in his words. âWe should get out of here before these fires spread. Can you stand?â
You nod shakily, though you stumble a bit, feeling weary. Steve reaches to balance you and you flinch away from him. âSorry!â he says, and backs up, tucking his hands in his pockets as if to assure you he wouldnât try and touch you again.
As you walk toward the exit, you feel numb. You profusely apologize to Eleven, Max, and the others, but like Will, they donât hold it against you. (Well, Mike Wheeler grumbles something about having a concussion, but when he sees how upset you are, he walks it back.)
âIt was the hive mind,â he says. âNot you.âÂ
Right. Not you. It was an external force invading your mind and body. A hostile takeover. The sword of Damocles inches ever-closer to your skull in your mind.
That night, Robin Buckleyâs parents drive you and Steve home as well. Steve offers to stay with you, but you want to be alone. You want to crawl into your bed, in the body you donât trust anymore, and cry yourself to sleep. So thatâs exactly what you do.
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You defer your enrollment to Cartersville U, wanting to take a gap year to deal with the grief and pain. Your parents understand, showering you with gifts and attention to make up for the fact that they werenât there the night of the âmall fireâ that killed your best friend and so many others.
You make new friends in Steve and Robin, getting a job at the Family Video with them. However, one gap year turns to two, and then three, when an earthquake hits and the military sets up a barricade. No one in or out, except for extenuating circumstances.
Steve reads you in on the truth: it wasnât a simple earthquake. It was another monster from the Mind Flayerâs domain opening portals to another dimension, called Gates. The uneasy feeling youâd had all week starts to make sense when you realize the hive mind was active again.
âWeâre going to kill him,â Steve tells you quietly as you two sit in Maxâs hospital room to keep her company. When you heard about her coma, your heart just broke.
âI want to help,â you say.
âNo way,â Steve says, shaking his head. âYouâve been tortured enough by this fucker.â
âEveryone has!â you say. âLet me help, Steve.â
He does, even if he doesnât seem happy about it. You help the group plan Crawls into the Upside Down, where the âresurrectedâ Chief Hopper searches for Henry Creel/Vecna/One. The way you understand it, Vecna and the Mind Flayer are partners in crime. So while you were connected to the hive mind in 1985, you were technically connected to Vecna too. The thought makes you sick.
And in fall 1987, after 30-some Crawls, you and Will are dragged back into the hive mindâs orbit. Itâs painful, seeing from the vision of a monsterâat least itâs not your body carrying out the acts this time.
In the downtime before your plan at the Turnbowâs house, Steve finds you crying in the storage closet at the WSQK station.
âWhatâs wrong?!â he says, sitting on the floor beside you, but leaving some space. After two years of friendship, he knows better than to reach for youâyou donât love physical touch.
You shake your head. âItâs stupid.â
âNo, it isnât.â
You screw your eyes shut, deciding to just be honest. âI hate being so close to the hive mind,â you say quietly. âI hate being back there, like Iâm out of control of my body again. ItâsâŚviolating.âÂ
You donât say more, but you could. You could talk about how you still havenât had sex, kissed anyone, or really dated at all, because your fear of sex and intimacy and vulnerability was ratcheted up after you were flayed. You have this compulsive need to be in control of your body at all times, and sex seems like a surefire way to lose that control. You donât want to lose yourself to someone else. Ever again.
âIâm sorry, Y/N,â Steve says. If he can tell youâre not telling the full truth, he doesnât bring it up. âListen, weâre going to kill Vecna once and for all. And then he, and the Mind Flayer, and the whole hive mind will be gone.â
You appreciate his positivity, even if you donât feel so optimistic. âThank you,â you say. You hesitate, before asking, âCould I get a hug?âÂ
Steve had secretly hoped you would ask. When you occasionally ask for a hug is the only time you let him close to you.
âOf course,â he says, opening his arms for you. You hug him tightly, but only for a few seconds, before youâre pulling away. Steve stands and offers you a hand. You murmur, âThanks,â and take it, but let go as soon as youâre on your feet. Steve doesnât take offenseâheâs not that insecure. But he does find his arms and hands feeling a bit warm where he was just holding youâŚ
Steve squashes that instantly. Whatever heâs feeling is a bad idea. Besides, you all have a world to save.
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You do save the world, shockingly. Somehow, your team of quasi-heroes pulls it off, and then youâre all expected to go about life as normal.
Eleven is finally able to get some semblance of a normal life, after the military is exposed for their clandestine experiments. She even gets a hefty payout from the government, which Hopper commands cannot be used on a lifetime supply of Eggos, to her chagrin.
Max re-enrolls in school, hoping to catch up, with Lucas, Mike, Will, and Dustin offering to be her personal tutors.Â
Jonathan, Nancy, and Robin all go far from Hawkins for college in fall 1988. You still end up only 30 minutes away, at Cartersville University. Youâre a bit surprised when Steve tells you heâs enrolled as well.
âI think I want to be a teacher,â he says, while the two of you are attending a new student mixer during orientation week (and glomming onto each other so you donât need to talk to any strangers).
âThatâs amazing, Steve!â you say. âYouâre great with kids. Youâre going to do really, really well.â
He smiles, a bit bashful. âThanks, Y/N. What do you think you want to study?â
You donât get the chance to respond before a pretty girl is sidling up to him. âHey, I havenât seen you around here before.â
You bite back the urge to make a sarcastic remark about how youâre all new, so of course she hasnât seen Steve before. As Steve begins to flirt back, you quietly excuse yourself for more punch. Oh, brother.
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Your roommate is the most insatiable human being to exist.
You think she and her boyfriend have sex four times a week, maybe five. Good lord.
Coming home from a long day of one lab, two lectures, and an exam, you scowl at the sight of a bright pink sock with yellow daisies stitched on it resting on the doorknob of your dorm.Â
You know your roommateâs boyfriend lives off-campus, so itâs easier for their post-class romps to be in the dorm. But your stomach squeezes and twists, and the fact that she can so easily engage in intimacy while youâre still terrified of your own naked reflection sometimes angers you. You meet Steve in the dining hall for dinner and lament about it, stabbing at your salad with a fork.
âItâs just so goddamn inconsiderate that sheâs fucking in our shared room all the time,â you say hotly, spearing a cherry tomato and biting into it.Â
âThat really sucks,â Steve says, genuinely upset on your behalf. His empathy is one of his best qualities. âI mean, she should at least give you a heads-up or something.âÂ
âOr something,â you grumble. âI hope she gets a UTI.â
Steve nearly chokes on his grilled cheese sandwich.
You feel a bit ashamed. âSorry. Was that, like, totally evil of me to wish on another person?â
âNot evil,â Steve says. âA little twisted, maybe.âÂ
You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed. Steve just laughs.
âI kind of like this side of you,â he muses.Â
âShut up.â You flick a craisin at him. It lands in his perfect hair. Itâs your turn to laugh, and his turn to blush as he brushes it away.
âBut seriously,â you add, shaking your head. âI just donât get how they even have the energy to do it so often.â
Now that youâve successfully vented your frustration, youâre ready to change the subject. Youâre about to ask Steve how his club baseball team is going when he says, âI mean, the few weeks I dated that girl I met at the orientation mixer, that was about how often weâd hook up.âÂ
Suddenly, youâre very invested in your salad once more.Â
Steve frowns at the sudden chill in your demeanor.Â
âSorry,â he says, wondering if he overshared. âYou probably didnât need to know that.â
âItâs fine,â you say, voice tight.
Steve furrows his brow. âReally? Because Iâve never seen someone inspect ranch dressing that closely.â
âI said itâs fine,â you say, anger creeping in again. You seal up the to-go container holding your half-finished dinner and add, âIâm going to the library. Hopefully Sierraâs boyfriend is long gone by the time Iâm done studying.âÂ
You storm off, leaving a bewildered Steve behind.
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You think you might be sexually frustrated.Â
You donât know what that feels like, exactly. Youâre pretty certain in your 20-some years of life, youâve never felt it before.
But youâre still scared of sex, so the feeling is confounding. Why does your traitorous body want the thing your brain has convinced you is terribly dangerous?
You donât like masturbating because you can never get yourself off, but your roommate is staying with her boyfriend for the weekend and you have a dorm to yourself, and you might as well try to do something to stave off the burning under your skin. If you donât, youâll probably go into some sort of hysteria. Is this when women in the 1800s wouldâve been sent to the seaside?
You eye the poster hanging on Sierraâs side of the dorm room, of some hunky male musician youâre certain is popular though you canât name a single one of his songs, and hope itâll spark something in you. You fumble around with your hand shoved down the front of your jeans, but your clumsy strokes combined with the swoonworthy stare of Hunky Musician does not make you come.
Could this be something behavioral science can solve? You head to the library, wearing a baseball cap pulled low over your eyes as if it could disguise you, wondering if thereâs some kind of psychology textbook titled âHandbook For Adult Women Who Are Scared Of Sex But Really Want To Get Off.â
You donât find that in a shadowy corner of the nonfiction section with the books on sex and relationships, but you do find a rather interesting-looking tome titled âTending To Her Garden of Pleasure: The Complete Guide To A Womanâs Orgasm.â Close enough.
âHey, Y/N!âÂ
You have a small cardiac event when Steve calls your name, dropping the book on the carpeted floor. You burn with embarrassment, shame, and regret, mortified that the book fell cover-side up.
You canât even bring yourself to say anything, or even put the book back on the shelf. You blink back tears and speedwalk past Steve, ignoring him calling after you.
You sit on a bench by the vending machines outside the library, hugging your backpack to your chest. You should just head back to your dorm, but the thought of being alone in that room again makes you want to peel your own skin off.Â
Minutes tick by, and you notice Steve out of the corner of your eye, heading your way. You arenât sure what to expect as he gingerly takes a seat on the bench next to you, but itâs definitely not a soft, âI think you forgot something.â
He holds the book out to you, cover-side down this time. Your eyes widen. âYou checked it out?â
âIn case you still wanted it,â Steve said. And heâs not teasing you. Heâs being 100% genuine. Though he canât resist and adds, âBut if you donât, maybe I should study up.â
You snort and shake your head. âIâm sure the librarian got a kick out of that.â
âSheâs stone cold,â Steve said. âDidnât even react. Iâm probably not the only desperate schmuck whoâs taken this thing home.â He screws his face up with disgust. âEugh, they like, disinfect the books each time theyâre returned, right?â
But you donât play along. The words âdesperate schmuckâ rattle around in your head. You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a shuddery breath.
âIâm sorry,â Steve says, suddenly serious again, misinterpreting whatâs making you upset and tucking the book in his backpack. âI promise Iâm not making fun of you.â
âI know,â you say. You sniffle. âI justâŚSteve, I think Iâm broken.âÂ
Steve frowns. âWhat do you mean?âÂ
You consider just walking away, but he sounds so concerned, and it might be nice to open up about this to someone you know and trust.
âI canât have sex,â you say, voice cracking on the last word, âbecause the thought of it scares me so badly. And all my hang-ups make it hard to get myself off, too.â You huff out a hollow laugh. âWhich makes me sound so babyish, because weâre in college now, and it seems like everyone else is screwing someone or jerking off all the time.â
You slouch in your seat. âAnd Iâve never even been kissed,â you murmur, so quiet you arenât sure if Steve can even hear you anymore. âThe longer I go without it, the more scary intimacy gets in my head, and Iâhell, weâve fought monsters, I know what real terror feels like, so why do I feel that way about something other people can do every single day?! Itâs like I said. Iâm broken!â
âNo,â Steve says, voice gentle but firm. âYou arenât.â
âSays the guy whoâs probably bedded every girl our age in Hawkins!â you fire back, before immediately feeling guilty for snapping at him.
ââBeddedâ?â Steve says. âWhat is this, a Shakespeare play?â
âSorry,â you mumble.Â
Steve waves it off. âItâs fine. Youâre upset. And I guess I do have something of a track recordâŚbut Iâm serious. You arenât broken, Y/N.â He shrugs. âSure, dating and sex can be fun. But it does mean you might get your heart stomped on in the end. Trust me, I know all about that.â
He gets a far-off look in his eye, and you know heâs thinking about Nancy. The one that got away.
âThereâs nothing wrong with taking your time,â Steve adds.Â
âWhen does it stop being scary?â you ask quietly. âPutting yourself out there, andâŚand giving up control to someone else?âÂ
ââControlâ?â Steve asks, confusion flashing on his features. âSex doesnât have to be about control. I mean, it can, if youâre into heavier stuff, butâdid someone tell you that?âÂ
âNo,â you say. âBut I have firsthand experience with feeling like your body doesnât belong to you.â
It takes a minute for the dots to connect. When they do, Steveâs eyes widen. âOh. This is because ofâŚâ
âYeah. Well, I was always a bit freaked out by sex, but it just kind of got worse afterâŚall that.â
âGeez,â Steve huffs, running a hand through his hair. âHenry Creel really did a number on us. The fucker.âÂ
You look down at your feet, unsure of what else to say.
âListen,â Steve says. âYou donât have to have sex with anyone if you donât want to. Ever, no matter what someone says.â
You want to articulate that there is a part of you, deep down, that does want sex. You just feel like you canât have it, because it feels like the most dangerous thing in the world. But thatâs more than youâre willing to share at present, so you thank Steve for the support.
âUm, I donât think Iâm ready for the book,â you add, standing from the bench. âSo you can return it.â
âAre you kidding?â Steve says, with a smirk. âIâm reading this thing cover to cover. Iâm going to become a master of female pleasure by the end of the week.â
You burn again, but not from embarrassment this time. From something else that you arenât ready to identify.Â
But whatever it is, it sure helps you get off for the very first time mere hours later.
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The following spring, you and Steve complete your first year of college. You decide to move into an off-campus apartment together. Before the summer semester begins (because after starting school later than normal because of the quarantine, you both feel like youâre playing catch-up), you return to Hawkins to celebrate the Class of 1989.
Sitting in the bleachers with Steve and Robin, you cheer extra loud when Will, Dustin, Max, Lucas, and Mike walk the stageâthough no one cheers louder for Mike than Eleven. Dustinâs valedictorian speech has the whole crowd going nuts.
On the WSQK rooftop after the festivities, you share a drink with your friends. You all agree to meet up every few months at Robinâs uncleâs house to socialize, and also because Jonathan is going to need some major help on his student film.
You laugh, talk, and drink, and itâs nice, for a while. However, after Robin starts teasing Steve for getting dumped by a classmate in Spanish during their Spanish class oral exam, she turns to you.
âPlease tell us your love life is going better than Steveâs,â Robin says. âWe need a story about Cartersville that wonât depress us.â
An icy panic spreads itself through your body. You force a laugh and shake your head. âNo love life to speak of,â you say lightly. âIâm just studying a lot.â
âOh, come on!â Robin says. âThere has to be someone youâre at least crushing on.â
You shake your head and take a long sip of your beer. Itâs mostly warm by now, due to the heat. âNo one.â
Thatâs mostly true. Sure, youâve noticed over the last few months that you find SteveâŚattractive. Very much so. But heâs your friend. And he knows youâre not ready for a relationship that involves sex, and he has sex all the time. Well, you donât think heâs hooked up with anyone since you two moved in together. But still. You two would never work.
Nancy scans the twist of your mouth and rescues you. âSo, Steve, what exactly did your professor say when you got broken up with during the test?â
Steve groans and shakes his head. âNot you two, Wheeler. I swear, you all relish in my misfortune.âÂ
But heâs a good sport, and he recounts every detail of the situation that he hadnât already shared. You force a few more laughs, but deep down, you find yourself feeling anxious. Everyone on this rooftop has fallen in love before. Theyâve all had sex before. They probably can tell that you havenât. Do they think youâre a prude? Or that somethingâs wrong with you? Something is wrong with you. Fear essentially runs your life. But you donât want your friends to know that.Â
A few hours later, when Steve drives you two back to Cartersville in his truck, he says, âHey, youâre pretty quiet. All good?â
âMm-hm,â you say with a weak smile. âMy stomach just, uh, hurts a little. So Iâm ready to get home.â
âSorry about that,â Steve says. He glances at you at a red light. âAnd sorry about Robin. She shouldnât have been so nosy.â
âItâs fine,â you say. Itâs not. Steve can tell itâs not. But the light turns green, and you angle your face away from his to watch the trees whiz by, so he doesnât press.
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Steve is an adequate roommate.
He does his half of the chores in a (mostly) timely manner. He doesnât leave dishes in the sink or hair in the drain. But he does bring a lot of girls home.
However, heâs respectful about it. Every time he has a date, he gives you a heads-up that they might be coming home with him at the end of the night. Sometimes, heâll even borrow the phone in whatever restaurant they were just dining at to tell you an exact ETA.
You think that he thinks this is what you want, after your roommate experience from last year; a warning in advance that Sex Is Going To Be Happening, since he knows it makes you uncomfortable. While you appreciate what you assume is meant to be a nice sentiment, all it does is make you frustrated, sexually and otherwise. Itâs not fun to get constant reminders that Other People Are Fucking And You Are Not (And Itâs Kind Of Your Fault But Also Sort Of The Mind Flayerâs So Whoâs To Say?).
You realize that something has to change when you come downstairs one early morning in August and catch Steve feeding his date from the night before, Renee, a strawberry. People actually do that shit? You were certain that couples-feeding-each-other-fruit was made up for Hollywood.
âOh, hey,â Steve says in greeting when you shuffle into the kitchen. You are wearing a pair of Hawkins High gym shorts and a T-shirt with ALF on it. Renee is wearing one of Steveâs button-up shirts and presumably nothing else.
âGood morning!!!â you say, accidentally too chipper. You flash a smile at Renee. She looks at you like she wishes you were dead. Cool.
âAny fun plans for the day?â you offer weakly, after you throw a waffle in the toaster.
Steve opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, Renee wraps her arms around him and kisses his cheek. His face flushes as Renee says, âWeâll probably just go back to bed.â
You arenât sure how to respond to that. She seems to be trying to mark her territory on Steve, as if she can tell that youâve been harboring the tiniest, centimeter-sized crush on him for the past few months (that you know better than to act on).
Steve extricates himself from Renee and stands from his seat at the counter. âWhat are you going to do today, Y/N?â
You appreciate that heâs trying to cut back on the PDA while youâre in there. But Renee has no qualms about it. She stands and hugs Steve from behind while you stammer through some explanation of the portfolio youâre putting together for your summer poetry workshop. While youâre halfway through raving about how âWild Geeseâ by Mary Oliver really inspired your work, Renee starts kissing Steveâs neck.
âThatâs really cool,â Steve says, though you know he stopped listening as soon as Renee got her hands on him.Â
âThanks,â you say. You put your waffle on a plate and say, âIâll just, uh, eat in my room.â
You scurry out before either of them can say anything else. As soon as you get to your room and close the door, all the tension in your body dissipates.Â
Shit, for the very first time in your life, you think you need a date of your own.
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Steve is worried that youâre upset with him.
Ever since Renee tried to pounce on in him the kitchen, youâve been avoiding him. You spend the last few days of the summer semester locked away in a library study room, leaving before he wakes up and coming home after heâs gone to bed.
After the third day of avoidance, while he assumes youâre out at the library again, he tries to explain to Renee why they shouldnât engage in PDA in front of you (without blabbing all about your fear and trauma). Renee doesnât get it.
âWhat, is she like, in love with you or something?â Renee huffs, as the two of them sit on the couch.
âNo!â Steve says, though his heart kicks up a bit at the thought. Youâre wonderful, in every way, and if Steve thought you had feelings for him, he would pursue youâat whatever speed youâre comfortable with, whatever that looks like. But youâve never made any indication that you see him as more than a friend, even when he privately took a vow of celibacy for the first month in the new apartment to prove to you that heâs not just some horndog. âNot at all. Sheâs justâŚâ
âLonely?â Renee offers. âDesperate because she doesnât have what we do?â
She surges forward, keen to end this conversation and start making out, but Steve leans away from her with a frown. âDonât talk about her like that.âÂ
Renee rolls her eyes. Steveâs blood boils.
âWhatever,â Renee says. âI mean, no offense, but I donât really see why you two are friends. Like, youâre you, and sheâs less of a person and more of a skittish cartoon mouse.â
Steve is baffled. Has Renee always been casually cruel like this? Truth be told, most of the time theyâve spent together has been in his bedroom, or the backseat of his car, or her bedroom, and none of those times involved a lot of talking.
Steve doesnât dignify that with a response. Instead, he stands from the couch and says, âI think you should probably leave.â
Renee scoffs. âSeriously?âÂ
Steve walks to the door and opens it. Renee snatches up her purse and storms out. Steve slams it shut, before leaning his forehead on the cool wood.
Later, he wanders into the kitchen and makes a pitiful excuse for a dinner (mac & cheese with pieces of hot dog insideânot very nutritious, but delicious), and he wonders if this is a cosmic sign that he should ask you out. Heâs assuming that you donât feel the same, but he could be dead wrong.
He mulls it over in his mind as he eats. He could profess his feelings and promise that you would set the pace, if youâre interested in him too. This all sounds great, and Steve is actually feeling pretty confident, and he brews himself a cup of coffee (or three) to stay awake tonight.
Heâs wired on caffeine when he hears your key click in the lock at 12:08 a.m.
âOh!â you say, when you enter the apartment and see him sitting on the couch in the low lamplight. âHi, Steve.â You clear your throat and close the door behind you. âIâm sorry Iâve been so M.I.A. I finally turned in my poetry portfolio after a pretty stressful few days.â
âThatâs great!â Steve says. He offers to carry your backpack for you. You thank him and hand it off, heading into the kitchen for a midnight snack before bed.
Steve hangs your bag on its hook and hovers in the kitchen doorway, wondering if the speech he has prepared is a good idea or not. Heâs about to just bite the bullet when you turn to him with a shy smile and say, âI have good news.â
âAbout your poetry portfolio?âÂ
You shake your head, your grin widening. âNope. Iâve got a date. For the first time! Ever!!!â
Steveâs eyes widen. He tries to arrange his shocked expression into something that resembles joy, while his heart is withering away inside his chest. âWhoa! Thatâs g-great! With who?âÂ
âHis name is Gary,â you say as you reheat some leftover pizza.
âGary,â Steve repeats.
âMy friend Judy set it up,â you continue, blissfully unaware of the crisis Steve is currently going through. âShe was in my summer poetry workshop. Sheâs a writing major, and Gary was her math tutor last semester. She said heâs super cool.â
âSuper cool,â Steve echoes again. He canât seem to form any coherent thoughts, except, IDIOT!!! WHY DID YOU WAIT SO LONG?!?!?! WHY DID YOU WASTE TIME WITH RENEE?!?!?!?!
You seem to pick up on the tension radiating off Steve. Your bright expression falters. âWhatâs wrong?â
âNothing,â Steve assures you. Because the last thing he wants to do is ruin something that could be good for you, just because he holds a candle for you and continually talked himself out of acting on it. âIâm really happy for you. This is big!âÂ
You nod and smile again, but it looks a little weaker this time. âThank you, Steve.â
He excuses himself to bed. As soon as he gets in his room, he picks up the phone on his nightstand and calls Robin.
âHello?â she murmurs sleepily.
âRobin, I fucked up,â Steve whispers into the receiver.
A pause, and then: âDid you somehow bring the Upside Down back?â
Steve frowns. âUh, no?â
âGet a girl pregnant?â
âNo!â Steve huffs, aghast. âI always have safe sex, Rob, and Iâm frankly offended that youâd assume otherwise.â
âOkay, King Condom,â Robin snorts. âThen what the hell are you calling me so late for? What could be so bad?âÂ
Steveâs quiet for a moment. And then, barely audible, he says, âI have feelings for someone that I probably shouldnât, but think I missed my chance to act on them.â
âOh, I see,â Robin muses. âThis is about Y/N.â
âHow do you know that?â
âIâm not an idiot, Steve,â Robin says. âI saw the way you looked at her when we were at WSQK together. I could always tell there was something there, simmering below the surface. Simmering? Boiling? Whatâs the difference, anyway?â
âCan we get back on track, please?â Steve asks, rubbing his forehead. âWhat do I do? Is it selfish if I beg her not to date this other guy?âÂ
âI donât know about selfish,â Robin says. âBut if you ask her out now, it is kind of going to look like you only want to date her because sheâs unavailable. And thatâs shitty.â
Steve agrees that it might not be a good look. So he swallows down his feelings for you, hoping theyâll fade like a bruise before long.
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Your first date with Gary is at a nice buffet in Cartersville. He pays for you, and heâs nice, if a little self-absorbed.Â
When he drops you off at your apartment complex after, he doesnât walk you up to the door. Thatâs how you always pictured your first date would end: your prince charming walks you to your door and kisses you sweetly.Â
Instead, Gary haphazardly parks in the fire lane and leans across the center console, practically mashing his teeth against yours for a first kiss that leaves something to be desired. You arenât sure what youâre supposed to feel afterward, but itâs not the butterflies you envisioned. Itâs justâŚfine.
As summer slowly turns to autumn and another semester begins, you agree to a second date, then a third. Each ends with a similar attack of a kiss. After the fourth, Gary tries to invite himself up.
âMy roommate is home,â you say in lieu of giving him a âyesâ or âno.â
âSo?â Gary asks. He flashes you an impish grin. âI can be quiet. Donât know if youâll be able to, once I get my hands on youâŚâ
You suppress a shiver. You donât feel any more ready for sex than you did before you started this thing with Gary. But maybe itâs something you just have to do once, and then itâll feel fine and normal. You fidget with the hem of your skirt and say, âDo you want to come over tomorrow evening? My roommate has a teaching lab that doesnât end until 9:00.âÂ
Gary agrees. This time, when he kisses you goodbye, he shoves his tongue in your mouth unexpectedly. Eugh.Â
As you ascend the steps toward your and Steveâs apartment, you try to focus on the positives, to avoid drowning in dread: a man is interested in you! Heâs taken you on many nice dates, to restaurants and movies! He likes kissing you, and tomorrow, he is going to have sex with you!
Your knees nearly buckle once you walk into the apartment, when the reality of what youâve just promised hits you. Apprehension clings to you like cheap fabric, and you wonder if you should change your mind. Call Gary and end whatever this is before you have to give him the part of yourself youâre terrified to share.Â
As you kick your shoes off by the door, you feel mentally transported to summer 1985. To that feeling of the Mind Flayer invading every one of your senses. The part of your brain thatâs so afraid of so many things assumes sex will feel like that too: an invasion. You start to breathe a little harder.
âYou okay?âÂ
You curse and flinch at the sight of your roommate popping in the kitchen doorway, hand on your chest. âJesus, Steve! Iâm putting a goddamn bell on you.â
He gives you an apologetic smile. âSorry. I heard you come in, but you didnât say anything.â He scans your face, brow furrowed. âYou look pretty freaked. Did Gary cross a line? Do I need to run him over with my truck?âÂ
âYou have your lab tomorrow, right?â you ask, ignoring his question. âThe three-hour night class?âÂ
Steve nods slowly. âUh, yeahâŚwhy?â
âGaryâs going to come over so we can have sex while youâre in class,â you blurt out. You probably should be mortified by your brutal honesty, but you suddenly donât feel well and canât stop yourself.
Steveâs jaw drops. Then, he closes his mouth and nods. âOkay.â A pause, and then, âAnd youâre sure you want to?â
Fuck. He can read you like a book. âYes,â you say. You breeze past him, heading into your bedroom.
You think heâll leave it at that, but he follows you in as you toss your purse on your desk. âForgive me if Iâm not convinced,â Steve says dryly. He leans against your doorframe and crosses his arms. He adds, softer, âY/N, donât force yourself to do something youâre not ready for.â
âBut thatâs just the thing!â you say, barking out a hollow laugh. âAt this rate, I feel like Iâll never be ready!â You jab a finger at your temple. âI have to just do it to prove to my fucked-up mind that itâs fine.â
Steve runs a hand through his hair. âI see where youâre coming from, but câmon. This is different than, like, getting over a fear of heights by rock climbing, or something. This is sex. And it should be special.âÂ
That grates your nerves. You scoff and yank open a dresser drawer, pulling out your pajamas and throwing them on your bed. âOh, and is it special with every girl you bring home?â
âYes!â Steve says, though thereâs an edge to his voice now. âJust because I date around doesnât mean the sex is meaningless!â
âAnd thatâs what Iâm trying to do too!â you fire back. âDate around, and make a meaningful connection. So I donât get why youâre being so weird about it.â
âIâm not being weird!â Steve protests.
âYes!â you shout, unable to tamp down the fear and dread turning into anger. âYou are! Youâre acting this is some kind of afterschool special!â
âBecause I know you, Y/N!â Steve says, voice breaking a bit on your name. âThe look on your face is the same look you had when we were riding into the Upside Down in the back of a refrigerated truck to kill Vecna. Youâre scared. Itâs not worth pushing yourself into having sex when youâre this freaked out.â
You look away. Heâs got you dead to rights. He continues, âDonât have sex with Gary just to check it off a checklist. Thereâs nothing wrong with taking your time. With being patient untilâŚuntil the right person comes along.â
For a moment, he thinks heâs convinced you. Then, you narrow your eyes and say, âIs that what you tell the girls you date?â
âHuh?â
âThat youâll be patient,â you continue, stepping a bit closer. You see Steve swallow hard, his Adamâs apple bobbing. âWhat would you do if, say, the woman you were going out with told you she wasnât ready to have sex. Would you wait until she was, or dump her for someone who wants to jump your bones?â
âIâd wait,â Steve says, jaw tense. âOf course I would.â
âReally? Even if she wasnât ready to sleep with you after three dates? Or three monthsâhell, three years of dating?â you continue. Tears build up on your lashline. âWould you be able to wait that long?â
You arenât sure if this is a hypothetical question anymore.Â
âI would wait,â Steve repeats, voice low. âHowever long until sheâs ready.â
You want to believe him. Every fiber of your being wants to believe him. Because heâs looking at you in a way that makes you feel like you mean something to him. Like you really are worth waiting for.Â
But your insecurity overtakes you and convinces you heâs just being nice, and a protective friend. You arenât like the women he dates. You arenât vivacious, and conventionally beautiful, and confident in your body.
âLiar,â you say, not much louder than a whisper.Â
Steve frown deepens. âNo, Iââ
âWill you definitely be gone tomorrow night?â you ask.
Steve sighs and closes his eyes. He nods once, a curt motion.
âOkay. Good. Goodnight, Steve.â
You go to close your door. Steve steps back just as it slams in his face. Heâs left standing in the hall alone, with mounting regret, marveling at how he never has the capacity to say what he really wants to.
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Steveâs teaching lab is from 6-9 on Wednesday nights. It usually involves learning classroom management strategies. Steve knows he wonât be paying a lick of attention to any of that today.
Before he leaves for campus, he hesitates, but knocks on your bedroom door. âHey,â he says, with a soft call of your name. âUh, can we talk?â
A few seconds later, the door swings open. Steveâs heart stutters at the sight of you. Youâre wearing a pale blue dress and matching eyeshadow. You look stunning, even more than you usually do, if thatâs possible.
âWhoa,â he breathes out. He clears his throat. âYou look really nice.â
âThanks,â you say coolly. You cross your arms. âYou heading out?âÂ
âYep.â
âAnd you wonât be backââ
âUntil 10:30,â Steve promises. âIâm going to hit the library after class.â He pauses, fidgeting with the strap of his backpack. âHey, have fun tonight, okay?â
Maybe that was a weird thing to say. But sex is supposed to be fun. Steve hopes you remember thatâyour expression looks as though youâre preparing for your last rites.
âThanks,â you say, forcing a smile. Steve awkwardly hovers in the hallway, so you add, âDid youâŚneed something else?â
âJust remember to be safe,â Steve says, his protective side showing. His voice drops in volume, even though thereâs no one else around to hear it, and continues, âYou have condoms, right?â
Your eyes wide, deer-in-the-headlights style. âDonât guys usually have those?âÂ
âI mean, sometimes,â Steve says. âBut not always. Hold it right there.âÂ
He ducks back into his room and returns with a box of condoms. You try not to pass away from embarrassment when he hands it to you.
âJust in case,â he says. âDo not let Gary convince you they wonât fit. You can pull one of those things over your arm up to your elbow.â
You snort. âGood to know.â
âIâm serious,â Steve says. He places his hand on your shoulder with a feather-light touch. For once, the unplanned physical contact doesnât make you flinch or cause your stomach to roil. âAnd if at any point youâve changed your mind, say so. Donât do anything youâre not comfortable with.â
You nod. âRight. I wonât. Thank you. Seriously.âÂ
Steve squeezes your shoulder gently before dropping his arm. âGo get âem, tiger.â With those words of wisdom, he leaves.
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Gary is prompt. You two had agreed heâd come over at 7. At 6:59, heâs knocking on the front door.
At 7:02, youâre pouring him a glass of wine.
At 7:05, heâs kissing you on your couch. It feels weird to you, still, and you arenât sure if thatâs because of your lack of experience or because Gary is a bad kisser. You donât dwell on that fact, trying to shut down the part of your brain that is freaking out about all this physical touch.Â
And, oh boy, Gary is touching you all over. Your shoulders, your back, your chest, your hips. But heâs moving his hands so fast, it almost feels like a pat down. Is he doing this right? Is it rude if you ask him to slow down, to savor you a bit more? Whatâs the protocol here?!
âWe should go to your room,â Gary murmurs against your lips.
You nod, before you can talk yourself out of this. âY-yeah. Yes. Letâs go.â
And so you find yourself in your bed with him, and the pat down continues over your dress. Gary is whispering something in your ear. You think itâs supposed to be sexy, but youâre too busy trying to keep your brain focused on the task at hand to even comprehend the words.
âNice rack,â he murmurs in a tone that he seems to assume is seductive, fondling your breasts over the bodice of your dress.Â
What am I, a rack of ribs? you think.
âWhat did you say?â Gary says, continuing his ministrations as he nips your earlobe.
Shit, did you say that out loud? You screw your eyes shut. âUh, just that I want you to keep going,â you say quickly.
He accepts that without issue, and begins kissing your neck. He slows his hands over your chest, and you believe heâs finally going to take his time with you, and thenâ
Rrrrrrrip!!!! The sound of tearing fabric has your eyes popping open. You gasp and, with anger coursing through you, shove Garyâs chest with all your might. He tumbles off you, landing with an âOoph!â on the mattress next to you.
Heartbeat pounding in your ears, you scramble off the bed and look at the mirror hanging on the back of your closet door.Â
âYou tore my dress!â you say, horrified at the big gash down its bodice, now exposing the white lace bra you spent too much money on for this shitshow.
Gary is two parts confused, one part annoyed. âSo?â he says. âThere were too many buttons.â
You whirl around to where he sits against your headboard and glare. âThis was my favorite dress.â
âJust buy another!â Gary says. He stands from the bed and saunters over to you, giving you a sly look. âMaybe we can go to the mall and I can pick out something forââ
âI canât buy another one just like this,â you interrupt hotly. Your brain is firing on all cylinders. You arenât sure if you even understand why youâre so upset, but you donât stop yourself from saying, âThis was from the JC Penney Summer 1985 collection. They donât make it anymore!âÂ
Gary stares at you and blinks once, twice. âOkay? Uh, sorry, I guess. I mean, I donât see what the big deal is, butâcan we get back to having sex now?â
You shake your head. âNo. I want you to leave.â You wave your hand between the two of you. âWhatever this was? Itâs over now.â
Garyâs disposition sours. His lip curls. âAre you serious?â
âAs a funeral,â you snap. âNow, please, get the fuck out of my house.â
Gary gives you a long, hard look. He huffs in disbelief with an eye roll. âFrigid bitch.â
He storms out of your room, grabbing his shoes without even putting them back on, and slams the door to your apartment.
As soon as heâs gone, you sink to the edge of your bed and put your hands on your knees. You try to control your breathing, to relax, to think whatever happy thoughts you need to so you can put this shitty night behind you.
But when you glance up again and see your ruined dress in the reflection of the mirror, you begin to cry. The sword of Damocles falls, slicing your skull in two.
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Steve parks his truck outside the apartment complex at 10:40.
He gave you an extra 10 minutes. Not that he feels like Gary the math major has enough stamina for 3 hours and 40 minutes of lovemaking, but still. Better safe than sorry.
Steve figures heâll nurse his broken heart with a beer and then head to bed. Maybe heâll run into you in the kitchen and casually ask how the night went. (Despite his unrequited feelings for you, he hopes it went well.) But when he enters the apartment, itâs eerily quiet, in a way that sends a shiver down Steveâs spine.
Why is it so dark in here? The only light is coming from the crack under your bedroom door. Shit, is Gary still here?
Steve leaves his shoes and backpack by the door and tiptoes down the hall toward his room. He hears a whimper from your room and freezes. One whimper turns into another, which turns into what sounds like a sob.
Panic rises in Steve and he barges the rest of the way down the hall, banging on your door. If Gary is still there and the reason youâre crying right now, Steve is going to jail for first-degree murder. At least his uncle is a pretty good lawyer.
Steve calls your name. âHey! Whatâs wrong?â
He hears you sniffle through the door. âGo away!â you shout, though your voice is hoarse, as if youâve been crying for a while.
âNot until I know youâre okay,â Steve says. âCan I come in?âÂ
âNo!âÂ
Steve feels helpless on the wrong side of the door. He felt this way countless times in the fight against forces of evil, most notably when he was hanging by one hand off a radio tower in the Upside Down.
âPlease,â Steve begs. âI just want to make sure youâre all right. I wonât be able to sleep until I know you are.â
For a few aching seconds, you donât respond. But then: âF-fine. Come in.â
Steve pushes the door open. Youâre seated on your bed, wearing your favorite ALF shirt and flannel pajama pants. Your face is a teary-eyed mess as you sew something blue. Wait a minute.Â
âIs that your dress?â Steve asks, sitting on the bed next to you (but leaving you a wide berth of space, as usual). You nod shakily. This doesnât lessen his panic. âWhat happened?â Steve says.
âNothing,â you mutter. You refuse to look at him as you work, though your hands are trembling so badly, your stitches are all crooked.Â
Steve covers your hands with one of his. You still, finally looking up at him. âTell me what happened,â he says quietly.
You suck in a rattling breath and try to get yourself together to recount the events of the night. âHe ripped my dress before we even got past second base,â you say. âHe didnât even care that it made me upset! I kicked him out and he called me aâaâa frigid bitch!âÂ
You cry harder, throwing the ruined dress on the floor, needle and thread still attached.Â
Steveâs seeing red. Maybe heâll do the first-degree murder anyway. âThatâs so fucked. Iâm sorry, Y/N.â
You sniffle again. âHeather and I picked that dress together. For high school graduation. IâI only wear it for special occasions because I want it to last as long as possible andâŚfuck!â You cover your face with your hands.
Steve isnât sure what to do or say in this moment to make you feel better. âIs it okay if I give you a hug?â he asks quietly, because itâs all he can think to offer. Without responding, your throw your arms around his neck and sob into his shoulder.Â
âWeâll get the dress fixed,â Steve promises, rubbing your back gently while you cry. âMrs. Henderson has a really swanky sewing machine, and she can mend anything. Iâll call her tomorrow to ask her about it, and can drive down to Hawkins over the weekend to drop it off.â
âThank you,â you whisper. âYou donât have to do that.â
âI want to,â Steve says firmly.
This is the longest youâve touched himâhell, the longest youâve touched anyoneâsinceâŚmaybe ever. It feels nice. Surprisingly.
Eventually, you feel like youâve used up all your tears and pull away. âThank you for being so nice to me,â you say. âEven when I freak out over small things.â
âThis isnât small,â Steve says. âGaryâs a disrespectful prick. Seriously, donât even give him another thought.â
You nod, and then sigh. âHeâs probably already called Judy and told her how neurotic I am.â
âIf Judyâs not a shitty person, sheâll be on your side,â Steve says firmly.Â
You fidget with your fingers, quiet for a few moments. Then, you whisper, âI really wanted tonight to go well.â
âI know.â
âI donât know when Iâll be ready to try this again,â you admit. âLike, dating, and sex, and all that stuff.â
An opportunistic asshole would use this moment to confess their feelings, but Steveâs not that guy. âThatâs completely fine,â he says. âWhen the timeâs right, youâll know.â
You arenât sure if thatâs true, but you like his optimism.
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You mope around for the next few weeks. All you do is go to class, study, and sleep. One morning in mid-October, Steve decides to get you out of this funk by inviting you to a Halloween party one of his teammates on the club baseball team is throwing.
âItâll be the perfect thing for you,â Steve says, when you initially donât look to enthused about the idea, frowning over your bowl of Cheerios. âWe can drink, dance, and forget about shitty people like Larry.â
âGary,â you correct.
âIsnât that what I said?â Steve asks innocently. He takes a bite of toast and shoots you a closed-mouth smile, his cheeks puffy and round like a chipmunk. It makes you laugh and roll your eyes. Heâs good at thatâat disarming you when you feel stress start building. How is he so good at that?Â
You stir your now-soggy cereal absentmindedly. âWouldnât you rather bring a date to the party?â you say. âI noticed you havenât really been going out.â You clear your throat. âI donât want you to feel like you canât date or bring people over just because I donât.â
Youâre secretly happy that heâs not dating a lot anymore. Your centimeter-sized crush on Steve has grown exponentially, ever since he had Mrs. Henderson fix your dress and hunted for the same dress at all the thrift stores from here to Indianapolis, somehow procuring one in green. You just donât know if thatâs the kind of thing a friend does for a friend, or a friend does for someone theyâre also harboring a crush on.
Steveâs poker face is too good. You arenât able to glean anything from his casual expression and even tone as he says, âI know. Itâs just not a priority right now.â He sips orange juice and adds, âSo. Party?âÂ
You agree to go, and, to Steveâs immense satisfaction, agree to do a âReturn of the Jediâ-themed duo costume. You have the idea to both go as Han Solo, before and after being freed from carbonite. You wear matching outfits with water guns painted to look like blasters, except everything youâre wearing is slate gray. You add some silver glitter to your makeup and hair as well, though you donât paint your face fully silver to avoid looking like the Tin Man.
âHey, Han Solo and the Tin Man!â one of Steveâs baseball buddies says as soon as you two enter the party. Well, it was worth a try.
Surprisingly, the party is fun. You and Steve do drink and dance, and the tipsier you get, the more you find your mind wandering to places it shouldnât. Like how good Steve looks in his Han Solo costume, how good he probably looks out of it, and did he ever read that library book on female pleasure? You drink some more to try and drown out your dirty, disgusting, shameful thoughts.
But are they really all that shameful? Youâre human, after all, and Steveâs a good-looking guy. If you werenât so afraid of intimacy with another person, or of ruining your friendship, you mightâve tried to seduce him years ago. Maybe even back before the Mind Flayer, when Heather told you to ask him out at Scoops Ahoy.
âYou okay?â Steve asks, leaning close so he can be heard over the music. You nod and take another sip, trying not to think about your dead best friend saying, âHeâs hung, Y/N.âÂ
âI just need to run to the bathroom,â you say. âBe right back.â
You navigate through the throng of dancing, sweaty college students andâafter too many triesâfinally find a bathroom upstairs that isnât occupied by an amorous couple. When you make your way back downstairs, you no longer see Steve on the dance floor. Your brow furrows as you scan the crowd for him, finally catching a glimpse of his infamous hair ducking into the kitchen.Â
You make your way there, but once you walk inside, you stop short. Steve is across the way chatting with a girl. Sheâs wearing a white minidress with feathery wings, and a headband with a halo attached via white pipe cleaner. She reminds you of Nancy Wheeler, with her delicate features and bright eyes. Your heart sinks. Of course Steve wants to talk to her. Not his roommate, whoâs probably leaking silver glitter everywhere she goes.
You awkwardly shuffle through the crowd of partygoers and, once youâre a bit closer, overhear the angel practically purr, âYou know, Han Solo was my sexual awakening.âÂ
Steve raises an eyebrow. âWas he now?âÂ
âWe should get out of here,â Angel says, reaching up to brush a stray curl off of Steveâs forehead. Steve smiles politely and, to your utter surprise, says, âSorry, Iâm not interested.âÂ
Huh? Angel is exactly his type: pretty, available, and unabashedly horny. And Steveâs turning down the chance to take her home?Â
To her credit, Angel accepts the declined invitation with grace. âSuit yourself,â she says. âI think I saw an Indiana Jones around here anyway.â
As she leaves, you approach Steve. His face splits into a grin when he sees you. âHey! I was just looking for you. I requested the DJ play that Duran Duran song you like. Hopefully itâs coming up soon.âÂ
You consider moving on from what you overheard, but you canât stop yourself from ignoring his statement and asking, âWhy did you shoot down the angel girl?âÂ
Steveâs smile falters. âYou heard that?â
âUh, yeah,â you say. You force a chuckle. âI mean, what gives? She was perfect for you.â
âNo,â Steve says. âShe wasnât.â
Youâre confused. He almost sounds dejected. âWhatâs wrong?â you ask.
âNothing!â Steve says, exasperation leaching into his tone. He nods toward the living room. âCâmon, letâs go dance.â
You shake your head. Youâre probably jumping to conclusions, but you have to know if thereâs any validity to your hunch. âNo. I want you to tell me why you arenât dating anymore. And if itâs my fault.â
Steveâs expression is pained. âDonât make me answer that,â he murmurs. He turns on his heel and charges out to the back porch for some air. You follow, guilt gnawing at you as the cool air of the October night hits you. That was practically a âYes.â
âSteve, donât stop dating on my account,â you say, assuming thatâs what this all is: him trying not to make you feel left out of the Dating and Relationships part of life that you just donât feel equipped for. âGo hook up with Ms. Angel if you want to.â
âI donât want to hook up with her!â Steve says. Heâs agitated, rubbing his nose in a way he only does when heâs upset.
âBut whyââ
âBecause I like someone else!â Steve explodes. âBut if I tell her, it might ruin our friendship, orâŚâ He swallows hard. âOr our living situation.â
His words wash over you, and realization dawns. Part of you is thrilled. The other part of you is terrified, imagining all the ways this could go wrong. âOh.â
âThe last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable,â Steve says quickly, sensing your unease. âI know that dating and stuff isnât, like, easy for you. And if you donât feel the same way, I wonât be offended. If you want me to move out, I will, andââ
âSteve?â
â...Yeah?â
You canât believe youâre about to say this, but: âMay I kiss you?âÂ
Steve freezes. After a few seconds, he sounds wrecked and says, âY-yeah. Yes.â
You inch closer to him, cupping his face in your hands gently. His skin his warm, despite the mid-autumn chill. He hesitates before softly placing his hands on your waist. âIs this okay?â he asks. You nod, before softly pressing your lips to his.
Kissing Steve is nothing like you thought it would be. Itâs 1,000% better. Whatever the fuck Gary was doing was obviously, categorically incorrect. Because Gary didnât kiss you soft and slow, like he was revering the taste of you. He didnât move his hands from your waist to your back, pulling you in ever-so-much closer. He didnât make you feel like you were floating.
Youâre so overwhelmed with an emotion you canât quite describe that you pull away. Steveâs brow furrows. âWhatâs wrong?â he asks, worry radiating off him in waves.
You surprise him by kissing his cheek. He looks a little dazed, touching his cheek in the very same spot. âNothingâs wrong,â you promise. âI justâIâm sorry, Iâm messing this up.â
You start to back away, but before you get very far, Steve intertwines one of his hands with yours. âNo, no,â he says. He runs his thumb over your knuckles, and youâre surprised at how nice it feels. âYouâre not messing anything up. Tell me whatâs on your mind.â
You take a few deep breaths and try to collect yourself. âIâI like you too,â you say, after a beat. âI have, for a while. But I just figured you didnât feel the same. Because you knew about all myâŚhang-ups.â
âIâm sorry I didnât tell you how I felt sooner,â Steve says. You can see that he means it by the expression on his faceâregret, with a splash of longing and earnestness. âI hate that you wasted time with Harry.â
âGary.â
âThatâs what I said. Jerry.âÂ
You wonder if he needs to get his hearing checked, but then notice his sly grin. You shake your head and playfully swat his shoulder. âYouâre goofy.â
âYou just said you like me,â Steve taunts, looking awfully proud of himself. âSo you like goofy.â
âYeah. I really, really do.âÂ
Steve hesitates, before bringing a hand up to brush a stray lock of hair out of your face. âCan I kiss you again?â he asks.Â
You want to say yes, but thereâs a part of your brain that still panics at the thought. A lot has happened in the past seven minutes, and you feel a tad in over your head.
âI wonât if you donât want me to,â Steve promises. âWe donât have to rush. Patience is my middle name. Steve âPatienceâ Harrington.âÂ
Itâs not. Itâs Daniel. But instead of reminding him of that fact, you ask, âCan I have a hug instead?âÂ
âOf course you can,â Steve says, his voice low and fond as he opens his arms for you. The two of you hold each other outside while the party rages on indoors, and it just feels right.Â
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Dating Steve is strange at first. You struggle to adjust to the change from friends to more, feeling a little caught off guard with the displays of affection that you arenât used to.
But Steve never pressures you into anything. He asks every time he wants to hug or kiss you. He even asks if itâs all right to hold your hand. Youâre sure that to some other girls, such constant check-ins would be annoying. But for you, itâs a saving grace. Youâre able to ease into physical intimacy in a way that feels comfortable to you. It no longer feels like the terrifying beast that youâd been so afraid of for years. Instead, itâs warm and comforting, because youâre with Steve, and he always makes you feel safe.Â
However, the metaphorical sword of Damocles has been re-hung, because thereâs still something hanging over your head: sex. You and Steve have kissed quite a lot, but thatâs about it. Heâs true to his word from the Halloween party and makes it clear thereâs no rush to do anything more, but sometimes you two will be kissing, and heâll suddenly pull away and ask if you want to watch a really serious documentary about how paint is mixed, or a sad movie. And then heâll sit on the opposite side of the sofa from you with a pillow on his lap.
You almost feel bad, like youâre torturing the guy. One day when you try to apologize for still not being ready for that next step, Steve waves away your concerns.
âYou have nothing to apologize for,â he says. âReally. Let me just, uh, go take a cold shower real quick.â
One day in December, after finals week but before the holidays, you two are watching that paint documentary for the fifth time, and you decide that enoughâs enough. You trust Steve. (Hell, you might even love him, even if itâs probably too soon to make such a declaration.) If youâre going to have sex with anyone, you want it to be with him.
You broach the subject, rather bluntly, as the credits roll. âDo you want to have sex with me?âÂ
Steve almost trips and falls on his way to eject the VHS from your VCR. âHuh? What? Sorry, I thought you just saidââ
âI asked if you wanted to have sex with me,â you repeat. âNow. Well, not now now. Maybe give me a few minutes to put on a nicer bra or something.âÂ
Steve frowns. âYouâre talkingâŚweirdly.â
âI am not!â
âYou are. Using your professional voice. Like this is a business transaction. I donât want us talking about sex to feel like hashing out a contract.â He pops the VHS back in its case and returns to the sofa, sitting closer to you this time. He covers one of your hands with his, his touch grounding you. âI promise you, Iâm okay waiting.âÂ
âBut you shouldnât have to wait,â you say. And, to your utter embarrassment, you feel tears welling up in your eyes. âIf I was normal, we couldâve done it by now.â
âScrew normal,â Steve says. âWeâve fought monsters, Y/N. Weâre the furthest from normal on the planet.â He wipes a stray tear off your cheek. âPlease donât cry, sweetheart. Itâs really all right.âÂ
Sweetheart. The pet name has you feeling warm all over. But you agree that maybe nowâs not the time. Your hands are shaking, and your throat is tight, and as much as you love him, you feel sort of nauseous about being in bed with Steve.
âWhenever youâre really ready,â Steve says, âyouâll know. Trust me.â
You do. More than anyone else on the planet.Â
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Thereâs a blizzard in mid-January. A total white-out that has classes canceled too soon after the semester began. You and Steve are holed up in your apartment, and heâs kissing you on the couch, and when he stops and asks, âHey, can we watch that documentary again?â in a pained sort of voice, a realization crashes over you like a tsunami wave:Â
Youâre horny.Â
Like, horrendously horny. Very much so. Sure, youâve felt this way from kissing Steve before, but it feels more visceral now. Like, it wonât be enough this time to go into your room under the guise of studying and touch yourself thinking about your boyfriend.
You shake your head. âNo. Steve, Iâm ready. Like, actually this time.â
âAbsolutely,â you say, before kissing him again.
The two of you clumsily stand, barely coming up for air as you kiss and stumble down the hall. You end up in Steveâs room, and in his bed, in record time.
âTell me if I do anything you donât like,â Steve murmurs as he hovers above you, pressing kisses down your jaw and neck. You let out a soft sigh as he moves lower, kissing your sternum and your stomach over your sweater. âCan I take this off?â he asks.
You nod, and he pulls your top off gently. Youâre not in a particularly nice bra todayâitâs an odd shade of orange that you bought on clearanceâbut Steve drinks in the sight with hungry eyes.
âYou next,â you say, tugging at the hem of his Cartersville U sweatshirt. As soon as itâs off, you feel your heart race. You run a hand over his chest hair and try not to swoon.
âLike what you see?â Steve teases.Â
You nod, before pulling him in for another kiss.
Your jeans get tossed next, and then Steveâs. But as his fingers graze the waistband of your panties, you feel it: panic, crawling its way through your mind and body.
Not now, you think, kissing Steve a little harder to try and push the feeling away. Please, no, not now.
Steveâs hand moves a centimeter lower, and you subtly flinch. You donât even have to ask Steve to stop. He notices, pulls his hand away, and moves so heâs laying on his side next to you.
âItâs okay,â he tells you, before you can apologize. âWe can stop.â
You cover your face with your hands, mortified. âI thought I could do it,â you say, voice muffled through your hands. âBut thereâs something in my messed-up head that just stops me. I trust you. I want this with you so much. But I just hate feeling like Iâm out of control.â
Steveâs mind flashes back to that day from last spring semester, when he found you in the library looking at a book on sex. Outside, on the bench, youâd described sex as âgiving up control to someone else.â An idea forms in his head.
âIf you want to be in control, take it,â Steve says.
You peek out from your hands. âHuh?âÂ
Steve leans against the headboard and folds his hands on his stomach, above the waistband of his black boxers. âHave your way with me, Y/N,â he says, in a half-teasing voice.
The words send desire coursing through you, from your head to your toes. âAre you serious?â you ask.
Steve nods. âI trust you too,â he says. âAnd I want this to be comfortable for you. If you want to stop, we can stop. But if you want to keep goingâŚâ He trails off, but the message is loud and clear.
You think about it for a moment. Then, you make your way over to him, straddling his lap. You rest your hands on his shoulders, and he places his on your waist. You roll your hips experimentally, punching out a groan from him and a gasp from you.Â
âIs that okay?â you ask, breathless.
âMore than okay,â Steve says, voice a bit rough. So you repeat the motion again, again, and again. Steve bucks up his hips to meet yours, and you gasp again.Â
The two of you move in tandem, bodies pulsing with need, sighs and moans falling from your lips. You kiss Steve again, with a renewed sense of fervor. You feel too good to be afraid.
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Afterward, while you and Steve are curled up in his bed, you feel your eyes start to water. You quickly wipe the tears away, but Steve notices. His blissful expression is replaced with a furrowed brow and a frown. âWhatâs wrong? Are you all right?â
He relaxes when your face splits into a smile. âMore than all right. Iâm happier than Iâve been in a long, long time.â
You wrap your arms around him for a tight hug. He returns the embrace, pressing a kiss to the crown of your hair.
Thereâs so much you want to say. You want to tell Steve how you never thought you could have this kind of intimacy with anyone. You want to thank him for being so kind and attentive, and for letting you take the lead. You want to kiss him some more, for hours.Â
You want to explain that something has shifted inside you, and your body feels like your own again for the first time in a long time.Â
But instead of saying all that, you hold your boyfriend close, feeling the heaviness you've carried for years loosen its grip with every passing second.
pluto and its sun | steve harrington
part one: the perpetual orbit
pairing: steve harrington x reader
word count: 15.6k
warnings: cursing and using alcohol as a coping mechanism
includes: heavy angst, self sabotaging!reader, yearner!steve, yearner!reader, eventual second chance romance, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, the world's most depressing wedding, maxsteve sibling moment for those who care.
summary: all you've ever known how to do is orbit steve harrington. all he's ever known is to love you. eventually hundreds of miles separate the two of you and yet your orbit never faulters. but a wedding and a flask filled with whiskey just might be the two things that implode your sun. loosely based off of the song 'parachute' by hayley williams
a/n: okay this was originally supposed to be one big one shot... but i decided to split it into two. this is depressing so sorry in advance. also shoutout to my wonderful lid!! @tinfoileddd for helping me with the title and letting me brainstorm ideas with her <3 i hope you all enjoy!
masterlist
âââ ââ ââ â âââ
There was a time in your life where the center of your universe was a five foot eleven hazel eyed boy from Hawkins. In the beginning you two were just kids who grew up in the same circles. Which meant you had mutual friends, were in the same homecoming group, and even sat at the same lunch table sometimes, but all of that meant nothing when Steve Harrington was the Sun and you were Pluto.
You were there, he knew you existed, but there were so many other planets that revolved around him. Ones that he gladly gave attention to, and because all youâve ever known how to do was orbit Steve, you continue to sit at the lunch table and give him a pencil during Algebra only wishing you could be more like Mercury, wishing to be so close to him that it burned.Â
And you had become accustomed to that for so long that you had convinced yourself that this was all you were ever going to get from Steve. Fingertips that brushed as you passed him a pencil. The smell of his cologne as you stood next to him in front of Lisa Kellerâs house for homecoming pictures with his hands on Mercuryâs waist. His laughter at the lunch table, that brief moment of eye contact when he catches you laughing too, and the smile he shoots your way that makes your heart do a traitorous thing.Â
You think how lucky Mercury must be to have him like that all the time and you wonder if maybe one day once youâre out of Hawkins and no longer confined by his gravitational pull, that youâll find a new star to orbit. One that would love you even if you are Pluto.Â
That all changes though on a chilly November night in 1983 when Will Byers goes missing and you find out that Hawkins is not what it seems and that your orbit is not as far away from the sun as you thought.Â
As the months and years pass and with each new battle Hawkins seems to find itself in Steve and you only grow closer. So close in fact that you donât know where he ends and you begin and it becomes obvious that youâve lost your original orbit. The thing about your orbit was that it kept you steady, kept you from becoming all consumed, but god if you didnât love the feeling of hurling through space.Â
For the longest time youâd imagined what it would be likeâ to be Steveâs. In December of 1985Â during a closing shift at Family Video he letâs you know he also wonders what it would be like to be yours.Â
Itâs a Tuesday night, an hour before closing, and the bell that hangs above the entrance hasnât chimed in the last two hours. Thereâs still a substantial amount of snow blanketing the ground and roads from the storm that rolled through Sunday and that only added to your usual lack of business after the sun set in the winter time. If it was up to you this place would close at eight, but you werenât the boss, and admittingly you did like having the alone time with Steve. Even if you were sorting through old tapes and reshelving the horror section per Keithâs request.Â
âMaybe horror for our movie night this week?â you suggest, holding up a copy of Amityville.Â
Fifteen year old you would have died knowing that only three years later youâd be having weekly movie nights with Steve. That the King Steve, whose fall from grace was anything but graceful, was your person. Granted King Steve had been long gone for some time now and sometimes itâs hard to believe that the boy who stands in front of you with a green Family Video vest and a crooked name tag adorned on the front of it is the same untouchable boy from those years ago.Â
Steve looks up from the stack heâd been kind of going through on the cart and flashes you that smile that still makes you feel like you're that fifteen year old girl. âIf you want to cuddle with me you donât have to use the excuse of some lame horror movie to do it.âÂ
That teasing, flirting, the sly smirk on his face, itâs times like now where you realize his old habits do die hard and that there are parts of King Steve that still live in him, but itâs the good parts. The parts that make you giddy and the butterflies in your stomach to kick with such force you feel your stomach flip. The boy that stands in front of you is the same person as the older version you knew of him, but just more himself in the best way possible. And everyday you thank your lucky stars that youâre able to have Steve in your life like this.Â
âRight so when I have to turn on the lamp again because you thought you saw something in the corner of the room Iâll be sure to hold you extra tight,â you tease, slotting the movie into its correct place onto the shelf.Â
âIt was one time!âÂ
Your soft laughter eventually dies down until all that fills the void is the buzz from the overhead lights and the ticking of the clock on the wall. The two of you work in silence, wanting to actually get this done before you have to leave, not wanting to hear Keith complaining about you two being lazy while heâs got cheese ball dust caked under his fingernails.Â
The clock ticks louder on the wall, like a constant reminder that your time with Steve for the day is running out, and you think that youâll never get enough of Steve. That he could crawl under your skin and live there and youâd still want more of him. Especially when you can feel his eyes flickering over at you every so often, lingering long enough for you to feel it, but not long enough for you to catch him in the act. Itâs embarrassing to say that itâs making you blush slightly, but you quite literally used to look forward to Steve asking you for a pencil during class just so you could feel the slight brush of his fingers against yours and then savored that feeling until the next time. So, blushing over him playing eye tag with you was not the most embarrassing thing youâve done when it came to Steve.Â
About ten minutes before close Steve mumbles something about being right back. When the bell above the entrance rings you know exactly what heâs doing and a few seconds later you hear your car start out front. You focus on transferring the last few tapes from the cart and back onto the shelves, trying to ignore how the blush on your cheeks has now spread throughout your body.Â
The bell rings again and you can feel the cold air rush in just as fast as him, like he doesnât want you to know what heâs done, doesnât want to make a big deal out of it. Steve just does things like that so effortlesslyâ without a second thought. You notice very early on in whatever you want to call your relationship with him that he only does stuff like that for you. Even in school when you hyperfocused on every little thing he did with Mercury he was never as attentive with her as he is with you and it makes your head spin.Â
Eventually the clock strikes eleven and the neon light in the window fades to black as Steve locks the doors behind you. The cold winter air bites at the apples of your cheeks and the snow crunches beneath your feet as you walk at what could be considered a snailâs pace to your car, with Steve alongside you of course. He was adamant about walking you to your car when you two closed together, even though you two literally parked not even ten feet away from the store. You clearly didnât mind it, greedily taking advantage of every second you could get with him.Â
âYou know you donât have to do this for me,â you say softly as the two of you linger by your car.Â
âDo what?â Steve questions with that sly smirk on his face that you love more than you should.Â
âOh right sorryâ I keep forgetting that my car magically starts on its own.âÂ
âThatâs a real fancy car you got. Donât know how you can afford it on $3.25 an hour.âÂ
You roll your eyes at him, but thereâs no real malice behind it, if anything itâs fondness. âThank you Steveâ for real.âÂ
He shrugs his shoulders, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat. âItâs no big deal, but youâre welcome.âÂ
On any other night this would be the moment that you would tell him that youâd see him tomorrow, get in your car, and drive home. Your hand is already on the door handle, the cold metal doing nothing to help your already freezing fingers, but something in you is telling you to stay for another minute. To turn around and stay out in the cold for just a little bit longer. Maybe itâs a sign from above protecting you from a horrible car wreck or maybe itâs the feeling of Steveâs eyes burning into the back of your head, like heâs trying to tell you to stay without really saying it, but either way you turn on your heel, the snow crunching underneath your sneakers, and come face to face with Steve.Â
Wind whips through the barren parking lot making the cold settle deeper into your bones and you can see that it's already turned the tip of Steveâs nose and the tops of his cheeks red. He lets out a long exhale once the two of you make eye contact, like heâd been waiting for you to turn around, hoping that you wouldnât get in your car and leave him standing here.Â
Steve canât believe heâs about ready to ask you this in the middle of the Family Video parking lot, but you've turned around and willed his thoughts to come true, so now he has to follow through with it. Heâs chickened out one too many times before and god help him if this was where he was supposed to finally work up the courage to ask you, then so be it.Â
Heâs rehearsed this a million times, thought about it at night until his alarm clock read an obscenely late time, and now that the time has come everything heâs wanted to say goes right out the window and is reduced to six words.Â
âHave you ever thought about us?âÂ
His question hits you like a tidal wave and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears makes you feel like youâre caught in that wave, constantly being held under by the rip current, your chest burning from having to hold your breath. The feeling sits there for an uncomfortable amount of time and itâs not until you see Steve start to turn in on himself, embarrassment written all over his face at your lack of reply, that your head finally breaks through to the surface gasping for air.Â
âHave you?âÂ
Youâre turning the question back on him, but you canât help it. Even though you know Steve isnât the same golden boy you shamelessly fawned over for years, the boy who you never thought would give you the time of day, there is still that part of you that fears this is all too good to be true. That thereâs no way Steve could ever feel the same way you do about him. So, instead of making a fool of yourself when it turns out his words didnât hold the same meaning you thought they didâ you force him to answer first.Â
âYes,â he answers simply and then with an airy laugh continues. âAll the time actually. Canât get you out of my head.â
You find yourself leaning against your car, not trusting yourself to be able to stand on your own. At fifteen you had convinced yourself that you were fine with admiring Steve from a distance, that as long as you could have those small interactions with him you were content. At sixteen you convinced yourself that you were fine with just being best friends with Steve, that as long as you could have him close you didnât need to actually have him to be happy. Now at seventeen youâre trying to convince yourself that Steve Harrington does in fact feel the same way you do about him and when you continue your questionnaire everything you thought you knew blows up in your face.Â
âHow long?â you ask quietly, like you two are in a crowded room and not in the middle of an empty parking lot. âHow long Steve?âÂ
âAre you asking how long youâve been consuming my mind? Or are you asking how long Iâve thought about what it would be like to be yours?âÂ
He asks it so casually, like this confession isnât changing things forever between the two of you.Â
âBoth.âÂ
He inches closer to you, close enough that he can reach out and take his warm hand in your freezing one. The feeling of his hand in yours, the way his big hazel eyes seemingly stare straight into your soulâ it makes your head spin.
âIâve always noticed you Y/N. Iâve always thought you were so pretty and funny in a way not many people appreciated. That day your freshman year when Heather invited you to sit at our lunch table was a day Iâll never forget. And everyday since then when I would I catch your eye or heard your laugh it put such a funny feeling in my chest.â
Steve shakes his head, pausing for a moment as laughs to himself slightly, like he canât believe that heâs admitting all of this right now.
You sure as hell canât believe heâs admitting it either.
He takes a deep breath, squeezes your hands in his again and then continues.
âI mean fuck did you really think I didnât have a pencil on me almost every single Algebra class for that year? I was just using it as an excuse to have any little bit of interaction with you, but I never specifically seeked you out because I didnât think you were interested in me. Didnât think youâd like the kind of guy I was back then. But then all the shit with the Upside Down happened and we got thrown into the mess together and now I canât imagine my life without you in it. If I thought my thoughts about you before were all consuming then I donât even want to know what theyâd be considered now.â
Steve realizes heâs rambling and reels himself back in with a sheepish smile.
âI justâ what Iâm trying to say is that Iâm an idiot whoâs had feelings for you for way too long and Iâm finally admitting it because I canât stand to just have you as a best friend when I want you as something much more than that.âÂ
Itâs not just the cold air that youâre breathing in that is making your lungs burnâ itâs you realizing that you never needed to be more like Mercury. The Sun saw you even when you felt like you were the furthest you could be from him.Â
âI was going through an astronomical amount of pencils that year, but Iâd say it was worth it,â you reply with a big grin stretching across your face.Â
Steve mirrors your expression, the weight on his chest lifting when he sees you smiling. âYeah?âÂ
âThe amount of times I went into Melvalds for pencils was a little concerning. At one point Joyce asked me why I was going through so many and I lied and told her I was writing a novel.âÂ
The laughter that ripples through Steveâs chest is like music to your ears and a little part of you still wants to pinch yourself to see if this is real.Â
âIs that so?â Steve questions.Â
âI couldnât let her know that I was buying them out of pencils because the boy I had a massive crush on would ask for one like every day and I never wanted to not have an extra on me.âÂ
Steveâs heart swells and he wants to punch himself for waiting so long to do this.Â
âWell how could I ever repay you for all those pencils?â his tone is slightly teasing as his hands rest on your hips, gently caging you against your car.Â
âHmmm. I think I might have an idea.âÂ
You kiss Steve Harrington for the first time in the middle of the Family Video parking lot. Thereâs snow on the ground and your fingertips are freezing, but the fire that ignites in you when you feel his lips on yours has you feeling like it's the middle of July.Â
And you realize that this is what it finally feels like to be close to the Sun.Â
âââ ââ ââ â âââ
Being with Steve is everything you could have imagined and more. Heâs attentive and caring and honestly everything you could have ever asked for in a boyfriend. He makes life easier and when shit hits the fan again in Hawkins heâs right there beside you the whole time.
And you donât know if itâs because you two are faced with what is the most challenging fight youâve had yet or the fact that Steve suffered his worst injury and youâre both a little scared that maybe you wonât make it out of this one alive. But the topic of your future together gets brought up and when Steve mentions something about having a brood of children the idea doesnât scare you. Alright, maybe his idea of six is a little extreme, but you could see yourself in the future having little versions of him and you running around. You in a white dress with a shiny ring on your finger, the people you love most bearing witness to such a sacred ceremony of true love.Â
In a stolen RV on the way to what might be your inevitable death you come to the conclusion that doing those things with Steveâ getting married and having kids. It is something you would want with him.Â
But then Hawkins gets put in lockdown and well your future is stuck in limbo. College is put on hold for the foreseeable future and you think that maybe it was a blessing in disguise because even though you had been accepted into Indiana University and had plans of getting into their school of medicineâ those plans were never really yours. Itâs always what your parents had wanted for you and youâd never been one to really know what you wanted in life, so you went along with it, wanting to make them happy. But as the years in high school passed and the idea of what you were getting yourself into became more of a reality, well you felt like a rat in a cage. The lockdown helped ease the panic for a little bit, but the thing about a caged rat is that it never stops feeling caged and the walls built around Hawkins werenât big enough for what you realized you wanted for yourself.Â
The crawls, smuggling in contraband, relaying secret messages through the radio station that Steve and you seemed to live atâ this wasnât how you imagined your early adulthood to look like. Sure you loved playing apocalyptic house with Steve and in the grand scheme of things you two had only grown closer over those eight months, to the point where once all of this was over heâd thought about just renting that RV he talked about and getting a head start on your future together.Â
But when itâs all said and done and Vecna and the Upside Down are gone and real life quickly funnels its way back in you realize that Steve and you are in two very different stages of life.
It starts as pillow talk and before you know it thereâs tears streaming down your face and a horrible feeling in your gut that maybe what you thought would be forever with Steve would only turn out to be a chapter. When you tell him that in six months youâre planning on going to NYU instead of IU you should have known he wouldnât take it very well, in fact you knew he wouldnât take it well, and youâd prepared yourself for it. You just hadnât prepared yourself for the inevitable realization that your orbit around the sun might have swung too far out and thereâs nothing there to pull you back in.Â
All youâve ever known is Hawkins and for the longest time all youâve ever known is Steve. Heâs your safe space, the person you love and trust the most. You two have been through hell and back multiple times and you think maybe thatâs why this hurts more than it would if it was some other boy you met in high school. Because you two have a bond that goes deeper than anyone could imagine.Â
At the end of the day itâs put in front of you very clearly.Â
You want to find out who you are outside of Hawkins, want to make a life for yourself that isnât your parents dream, and you still love Steve.Â
Steve hates the idea of leaving Hawkins permanently because itâs all heâs ever known, heâs more than content with living the life heâs imagined for himself (and you) in the fixer upper on the corner of Sycamore and Vine that heâs been eyeing since December, and he still loves you.Â
And because Steve loves you heâs never going to hold you back from doing what you want to do. So, you two try to make long distance work. Itâs hard, even with your parents funding your flights home the distance takes its toll, and when you come home for Christmas break you two break up.Â
You saw it coming, knew it was inevitable, and honestly it wasnât just the miles between you that contributed to the breakup, it was feeling like you two were on different paths, and maybe some other things you werenât ready to address yet internally. It hurt more than you could ever describe because even if you two didnât want the same thingsâ you still loved him.Â
Youâll never not love Steve Harrington.Â
And even when Pluto is casted out as a dwarf planet and no longer considered a major planetâ she still orbits the sun anyways.
That following spring you donât come home for the kidâs graduation and when your Mom calls you that following morning to check in like she always does on Sundays she of course lets it slip that she ran into Steve at graduation. She claimed he was doing well and that he even got a job at the school. You tell her thatâs great through gritted teeth and a searing pain through the still fresh wound on your heart. She asks when youâll be home, you say you donât know and thatâs the whole conversation. You put the phone back on the receiver and wish that the universe in your heart would be swallowed by a black hole.Â
âââ ââ ââ â âââ
On August 3rd, 1993 Steve walks to his mailbox like he does every morning and retrieves his mail. He mindlessly sorts through itâ junk mail, his outrageous electric bill, his neighbors water bill, coupons for Bradleyâs, and then his eyes land on a crisp white envelope. He nearly does a double take, confused as to who is sending him something so official and fancy.Â
Mr. Steven HarringtonÂ
465 Park Street
Hawkins, IN 46952Â
Thereâs no return address, but something in him already knows who this is from, and part of him has the nerve to not even open it and just throw it in the trash. He doesnât though, he slowly walks back up his driveway, back into his house, and itâs not until heâs safely sat at the kitchen table that he opens the envelope.
PLEASE JOIN US IN CELEBRATING THE WEDDING OFÂ
CHRISTOPHER CARTER
&
Y/N Y/L/N
Saturday October 17th, 1993
At 3 oâclock
Laurel HillÂ
5395 Emerson Way
Indianapolis, IN 46226
Thereâs a ringing in Steveâs ears that resembles all the times heâd taken a particularly hard blow to the head during his years of trying to save Hawkins, but he thinks another beating from Billy Hargrove would hurt less than how he feels right now. The news shouldnât come as a surprise to him, heâd heard from Robin a couple years ago that you were seeing someone and then that you were engaged and well that was a rough pill to swallow. And of course in true Robin fashion she always gave out more information than Steve would have cared to know.
This guyâ heâs everything your parents would have wanted for you and more. Comes from money, majored in political science at Columbia, also from Indiana which explains the wedding being back home, and to top it all off Robin claimed he was really nice. Which made Steve feel even worse because Robin just didnât go around saying that about every person she met.
The fact that everyone else in your ragtag group of friends had met and apparently approved of this Chris didnât help the ache in Steveâs chest either. Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and you all being a couple hours from each other kept you all close, while Steve felt like the outcast of the group back in Hawkins. And yes he knows life happens, people move on and grow up, but the fact that all four of you still kept in touch and the only one he talked to was Robin hurt more than heâd like to admit.Â
In fact Steve hasnât talked to you in five years.Â
Five years of failed relationships, meaningless hookups, and looking for you in every girl he sees. Youâd left such a lasting mark on him that it was starting to get pathetic and youâd clearly moved onâ so why couldnât he?Â
The proof of your heart belonging to another man was in his shaking hands and he still couldnât help but think about what life could have been like if he hadnât let you go, if he tried to make things work when you came home that Christmas.Â
Heâd like to think it would be his name next to yours on that invitation, but thatâs a dream thatâs already been tarnished.Â
The clock on the wall reads 10:02 a.m.Â
Robin picks up the phone at 10:03 a.m.Â
âI need you to tell me this isnât real. Tell me sheâs not getting married.âÂ
Itâs real. He knows it is. He knew you were engaged, but holy fuck if he wasnât holding on to the smallest bit of hope that it would fall through.Â
âSteveâŚ.âÂ
âRobin.âÂ
Thereâs static on her end, a sigh, and then. âItâs real Steve. Sheâs getting married to Chris. Iâm sorry.âÂ
The old wooden dining chair creaks under Steve as he slumps against the back of it, the invitation still gripped tightly in his other hand. âWhy did she invite me?âÂ
âBelieve it or not she still cares about you. Still asks how youâre doing from time to time. When she asked me whether or not she should invite youâ I told her yes.âÂ
âAnd why the hell would you do that?â he bites back at her.Â
âYou donât have to come, but I honestly think sheâd like to see you. Itâs been five years Steve.âÂ
Itâs been five years but Steve swears sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday.Â
His eyes glance back down at the invitation in his hand as his finger traces the embossed lettering of your name. All he ever wanted was for you to be happy and he always thought heâd be a part of that happiness, but heâd let you go. He let you go find yourself and in the process you found someone else that made you feel the same way he used to.
âDoes he make her happy?âÂ
Robin doesnât respond for what starts to be an uncomfortable amount of time and then finally with a sigh she tells Steve what he does and doesnât want to hear.Â
âYeah he does. He makes her happy.âÂ
Something twists in Steveâs chestâ sharp and painful. The invitation gets tossed onto the table with the rest of the mail and he gets up from the creaking chair with an urgency he hasnât had since he was fighting demogorgons.
âGlad to hear. Iâll talk to you later. Gotta get to work.âÂ
Itâs August 3rd. School doesnât start for another couple weeks and itâs also ten in the morning meaning Steve would have been extremely late for work. All things Robin knows but doesnât get the chance to comment on because Steveâs slamming the phone back on the receiver so hard that it nearly comes off the kitchen wall.Â
Steveâs not mad. He's upset. Heâs got five years of unresolved feelings bubbling to the surface over a fancily addressed envelope and seeing your name next to another manâsâ inviting him to come bare witness to your eternal love.Â
His hands havenât stopped shaking and he finds himself rummaging through the cabinet for that dark amber liquid that could numb the feelings he didnât have the capacity to handle right now. He doesnât even bother grabbing a glass. If he was going to drink at ten in the morning then he might as well be as uncouth as he canâ choosing to bring the bottle straight to his lips and letting his chosen vice begin to work its magic.Â
Steve eventually finds himself in his room. One hand still has an iron grip on the neck of the whiskey bottle while the other haphazardly shuffles through the clothes once neatly hung in his closet. He lets out something that resembles more of a grunt than a hum once he finds what heâs looking for and then tosses it onto his bed.Â
The formal suit stares back at him, taunting him in ways only he could understand. He isnât drunk enough to talk back to it yet. So, he brings the bottle back up to his lips and takes a long swig while his eyes are still locked onto the article of clothing.Â
He mumbles something incoherent at it, something he isnât even sure he understands, and then sits down on the bed next to it. Which is where he spends the rest of his day drowning his sorrows.Â
The next morning he mails back the RSVP with a splitting headache.Â
Please Respond
RSVP by September 1st, 1993
Steven HarringtonÂ
accepts with pleasure     declines with regretÂ
Plus one? YES   NO
âââ ââ ââ â âââ
It was easier to blame the pit in your stomach and the crushing weight sitting on your chest on the flower fiasco (because the florist arriving with red roses instead of white would ruin everything at least in your Momâs eyes) instead of addressing the real reasons.Â
Today was your big day. The day that youâd been planning meticulously for the last yearâ the color of the napkins, if you should have chicken or fish, red velvet or vanilla cake, what font should be used on the name placards and if they should coincide with the color of the table cloths they will sit on.
Everything was planned out down to the tiniest detail and save for the flowers, which were not the massive deal your Mom had made it out to be, everything else had gone off without a hitch. It looked beautiful, like something you could only dream of.Â
And that should help calm your nerves at least a little.Â
Right?Â
You were marrying a good man. Chris made you happy, your friends liked him, and your parents loved him. He made you feel safe and a future with someone like him was something girls were more than envious of.Â
So the fact that you were on the verge of a breakdown with less than an hour left until you were set to walk down the aisle was a little concerning.Â
Your dressâ the one that had been hand designed by some French lady who flew into New York courtesy of Chrisâs Momâ felt like it was two sizes too small and every time you tried to take a breath it kept getting tighter. Your bridesmaids had left you alone in the dressing room not even ten minutes ago and in those minutes youâd worked yourself up into a panic attack.Â
These feelings though hadnât just popped up suddenly. Theyâd been bubbling under the surface for weeks nowâ ever since you got a certain RSVP back in the mail. You thought that inviting him might tie up some loose ends you still have internally, but receiving his response had only unraveled them. It had been five years since you spoke to Steve and now the first time you were going to see him since you had broken up was going to be on your wedding day.Â
The day youâd once hoped to share with him.Â
No. You canât think about that right now. You canât think about how youâve only ever imagined marrying one man and that it wasnât the one on the opposite end of the building getting ready right now.Â
You smooth the front of your dress with your sweaty palms for the hundredth time and try to take a deep breath, try to talk yourself off this very dangerous ledge to be dangling from right now. You donât dare catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, knowing the moment you see yourself trying to keep it together, the less than thrilled look on your face on what is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, it will break the dam of tears youâve so tactfully held back.Â
This was something every bride went through, it was just a little bit of cold feet, at least thatâs what you keep telling yourself.Â
Thereâs a soft knock on the door and it makes you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. You didnât want anyone to see you like this, but then you see your Mom peek her head in and the breath youâve been holding in shakily comes out.Â
âHi honey,â she says softly as she closes the door behind her. âHowâs my girl? Feeling a little nervous?âÂ
You were far from nervous. The incessant pounding of your heart against your ribcage and the heavy feeling of impending regret that floods your nervous system was not just you feeling nervous.Â
âMom I donâtââÂ
Your dress is suffocating you and youâre to the point where you reach behind you and start clawing at the corset Robin had so expertly laced up earlier. Your perfectly manicured fingers slip past the silk each time you grab at it, unable to free yourself from the rib crushing material.Â
Itâs a sight to seeâ you panicking like a rat stuck in a hot cage whose only way out is to dig through your metaphorical stomach while your Mom stands there watching you.Â
A cry of defeat slips past your lips once you finally give up, your arms aching and sweat beading at your brow.Â
âMom,â your voice cracks something awful and the realization hits you like a ton of bricks. âI canât do this. I canât marry him.âÂ
âYes you can,â her reply is instant and sure, like thereâs no other option that could have crossed her mind. âThis is all just some wedding day jitters. You just need to take a deep breath, maybe have a little drink. You want some wine? I can get you a glass of wine and it will take the edge off real quick.âÂ
Sheâs already turning back towards the door and it makes you even more manic.Â
âI donât want wine!âÂ
If you needed alcohol to get you through what is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, well then thatâs a sign right there that you shouldnât be doing this.Â
She stops dead in her tracks at the sharpness of your voice, but doesnât turn back towards you yet, sheâs waiting for the other shoe to drop.Â
âI want to take this dress off. I need to take this dress off because Iâm not getting married today.âÂ
You watch as she turns toward you slowly and the look in her eye is something youâve seen one too many times before. It makes your already rolling stomach flip in ways youâve never felt and her gentle touch on your arms does nothing to bring you back from the ledge.Â
âHoney, youâre going to get married today. Youâre going to take some deep breaths, have a little wine, and I promise youâll feel so much better.âÂ
You can feel your bottom lip starting to tremble as you shake your head in defiance at her.Â
âYou love him Y/N. Iâve never seen you happier than when youâre with him. Heâs good to you and he can provide for you. Iâm not going to let you regret ruining your future again over such a rash decisionâ over feeling a little nervous. This is what youâve been planning for the past year, what youâve been looking forward to, what Chris has been looking forward to.âÂ
Her hands fidget with your hair for a moment, always making sure you look your best, before they intertwine with yours. âTrust me baby,â she squeezes your hands like sheâs really trying to get you to listen to her. âYou want thisâyou just have to get out of your head.âÂ
The first tear falls from your eye and drags a path through your once flawless makeup.Â
This was never what you wanted. This was what she wantedâ what your parents wanted.Â
For someone who had left all theyâve ever known to escape the crushing weight of feeling like you needed to live the life your parents had planned for you. Itâs quite ironic that youâve landed yourself back under their thumb. You guess moving seven hundred miles away will never get rid of the little girl who always wanted to make them happy, who wanted to trust that they always had her best interest in mind.Â
Itâs funny that youâd thought you were a rat in a cage all those years ago back in Hawkins, because that was a cardboard box compared to how you feel now.Â
This wasnât college, this was a commitment to another person, and as lovely as Chris wasâ you could not spend the rest of your life with him. As horrible as it sounds, you donât think youâve ever really loved him. Not in the way you should. Chris was good to you, really good to you, he was the kind of guy that would rent out the fanciest restaurant in New York on a Friday night for your one year anniversary kind of good. The letâs fly out to Paris for the weekend kind of good and the youâll never have to work another day for the rest of your life kind of good.Â
The lavishness of everything was amazing, but youâd found yourself getting wrapped up in it, choosing to forget that marrying a man like Chris came with obligations. Ones that you know would slowly wear you down until you were a shell of a human, a ghost of your prior self. Chris may have been born in Indiana, but he hadnât grown up the way you had, barely spent three years of his life in the Hoosier state before moving to New York, and sometimes itâs glaringly obvious that you two come from very different worlds.Â
Yet even with your differences Chris had never given you a reason to doubt his love for you and his family was so welcoming, claiming they were glad Chris had settled down with a girl like you. Even going as far as paying for the wedding and your dress wanting your special day to be everything you could have ever dreamed of.Â
Except this is nothing youâve dreamed of.Â
When you accepted Chrisâs proposal youâd thought that maybe this was the moment that youâd stop orbiting the sun. That the part of your heart that was still reserved for that hazel eyed boy who you fell in love with all those years ago would unlock itself and let Chris fully inâ let him be the new sun youâd orbitâ and for the longest time youâd convinced yourself that it had happened. You hadnât seen Steve since you two broke upâ five years to be exact. So, finally fully moving on, creating this life with Chris should have been the final nail in the coffin for whatever you felt towards Steve right?Â
Wrong.Â
If anything, getting engaged to Chris had only made you think more about Steve.Â
Youâd thought more about Steve during this past year of being engaged than you had the first year after your breakup. He always seemed to be in the back of your mind and youâd find yourself asking Robin about how he was doing, breaking the cycle of Robin being the one to mention him every time you asked how things were at home because even after all these years you still associated him with home and Robin could always tell when you were homesick.Â
You thought about Steve when Chrisâs Mom was helping you decide if you wanted a live string quartet or when his sister helped you pick out the Swarovski toasting flutes that cost more than you could ever imagine something you drink out of costing. It was all so out of your depth and fancy and all you could think of when you were choosing between one extravagant thing or another was that this was not what youâd ever imagined your wedding looking like.Â
In fact you know if Steve was still in your life he would have been poking fun at you, telling you that this wasnât anything close to what you wantedâ that it wasnât you. And he would have been right because you never wanted anything extravagant. A late night pillow talk session back when your future was up in the air had revealed that all you had ever wanted was a simple wedding, one where your love was the main attraction and not an ice sculpture of a swan.Â
It makes your stomach twist to think that youâd left Hawkinsâ left Steveâ for the sole purpose of wanting to find out who you were outside of all youâve ever known and in the end youâd found yourself living a life that half the time didnât feel like yours.Â
Like you were an imposterâ living the life of some NYC socialite when all you were at your core was a girl from Indiana that loved sunsets and driving backroads in a maroon BMW with the only boy youâve ever truly loved.Â
The same boy youâd invited to your wedding. Telling yourself that he more than likely wonât come as you drop his invitation off at the post office, but you should have known that Steve of all people would be one to attend. Because heâd only ever wanted you to be happy and what better display of happiness could be shown than marrying someone? You tell yourself that it doesnât mean anything, that it had been five years, heâs surely moved on, but the NO that heâd marked on his RSVP for a plus one made your heart do a traitorous thing. Â
Youâre marrying another man and yet your orbit still hasnât strayed from your sun. It may have been weaker over the years, but the proof of your eternal love for Steve Harrington was here on your wedding day, wishing heâd show up after five years of no contact and tell you that you didnât have to do this.Â
âMom, I don't want this. Chris is a good guy, but this isnât the life I want for myself. Please donât make me do this.âÂ
Youâre pleading, tears streaming down your face as your Mom stares back at you with such a stoic expression that it makes you panic even more. Thereâs no remorse or motherly love staring back at you, just a face that tells you exactly whatâs going to happen and itâs not what you want.Â
Itâs sad that even at twenty five you still feel like you have no control over your lifeâ that you canât work up the nerve to walk out that door yourself. The part of you that your parents have tainted with the idea that this is your only option and that youâll never live a life better than this tries to reason with the other part of you when you realize that the one person that was supposed to protect you is not on your side in this.
Itâs a back and forth battle in your brain and you know that if you do walk out of this venue right now that youâll be on your own. Your parents will cut you off and youâll probably end up sleeping on Robinâs couch, which isnât the worst thing ever, but itâs also not just you that will be affected by this choice.Â
Chris will be too.Â
He didnât deserve this, his family didnât deserve this, especially after the astronomical amount of money theyâd spent on everything. You know you wouldnât want to be left at the altar on your wedding day, but you also donât want to marry a man you know you donât love like you should. Itâs a double edged sword and unfortunately your hands are gripped tightly onto it.Â
âThis feeling will pass. A couple months from now youâre gonna be able to look back on this and laugh, knowing that you were just overreacting. Youâre going to be living the life that woman would die for darling, be greatful, especially since youâre getting it with such a handsome and nice man like Chris.âÂ
Her touch is cold as she wipes away your tears and you know sheâs thinking of what excuse she can tell everyone as to why youâre going to be late walking down the aisle, you can see the gears turning in her head. Itâs all methodical with her, always has been, and when she presses a chaste kiss to your forehead you know youâre marrying Chris today whether you want to or not.Â
âIâll be right back,â she whispers before quickly turning on her heel and exiting your dressing room with urgency.Â
The door clicks shut behind her and you absolutely lose it.Â
You stumble into the little bathroom, your hands gripping the sides of the porcelain sink with such fierceness that you feel like you could rip it right off the wall. The first glimpse you get of yourself in the mirror is terrifying, your mascara is streaked down your cheeks, your eyes are bloodshot, and your chest is red and splotchyâ borderline breaking out into stress hives.Â
There was no way you could make it down the aisle and look presentable in an hourâ yet you knew it was going to have to happen.Â
You try to talk yourself down from off this metaphorical ledge that youâve been walking with one foot dangling off the side of ever since you woke up this morning, but itâs easier said than done. You tell yourself that maybe you could learn to love Chris like you should. That maybe once you go back to New York and settle into your new life that youâll look back on this and laugh like your Mom had said, but you shouldnât have to learn how to love someone. It should come naturally and while you do have love for Chris it isnât the eternal kind.Â
Youâve only ever had that with one person and you threw it away for what? A life you donât even want? To be sobbing on your wedding day? To be right back under your parents thumb?Â
You guess you were always meant to be a rat in a cage.Â
The door opens, you can hear the clicking of your Momâs heels across the wooden floor, the sound of what is undoubtedly a glass of wine being sat down at the vanity, and then her voice echoing through the room.
âIâm going to go get Robin. Youâll get all fixed up and then everything will go as planned.âÂ
You donât respond, you just wait for the sound of the door closing again before slowly exiting the bathroom. You find the wine glass sitting next to your favorite blush as you sit down at the lit up vanity and the girl that stares back at you in the mirror is unrecognizable. Itâs a girl with no back boneâ a chronic people pleaser. A girl who wishes that her knight and shining armor would come and save her, but this isnât a fairytale and Chris isnât an ogre. So the only thing you needed saving from was yourself.Â
You sit there and stare at yourself for a long time until you eventually start wiping away the remnants of your makeup, your silent tears aiding you in the process, but nothing can remove the stain on your heart.Â
âââ ââ ââ â âââ
The second Steve pulls up to this place in his pickup truck he knows this is way out of his comfort zone. He may be in formal attire, but this is something youâd see in the movies or on the cover of some celebrity magazine at the doctor's office. He knew this Chris guy came from money, but not this kind of money, and Steve feels like the smallest guy on Earth, feeling like a fool for ever thinking that he could provide for you back then. He still could barely afford to pay his light bill on time some months and here you were marrying Mr. Money Bags.Â
A gentle knock on his window startles him enough that heâs cursing under his breath and his hand shakes an unnecessary amount as he cranks the window down.Â
âSorry to startle you sir, just the valet,â a guy probably around his age states, who is also dressed in formal attire.
Valet. Right. Because thatâs the type of wedding heâs attending where you canât even park your own vehicle.Â
Steve puts the truck in park, takes the ticket from the worker, and slowly gets out of the vehicle. The trek up the stairs to the entrance is lined with extravagant flowers and Steve finds himself having to remember how to walk, having to take one step at a time. Thereâs a lady with a clipboard standing at the top of the stairs by the front entrance that watches him the whole time, how his hand grips the railing like heâs an eighty year old man whoâs taken on too many tumbles. Â
âHello! Name please?â The lady asks with a little too much enthusiasm once Steve finally makes it up the stairs.Â
âUmâ Steve,â he replies. âSteven Harrington.âÂ
The ladyâs eyes scan the clipboard and then with a smile on her face she makes a little check by what he can only assume is his name. âAh yes. Mr. Harrington!â She then looks back up at Steve with that same smile. âThe Carters are very happy that you could attend.âÂ
Steve forces a smile back at her and tries to act like her referring to you as Carter before it was even official didnât make his chest ache.Â
As soon as he passes through the threshold he feels like heâs been transported into another dimension. Heâs never been to anything this fancy before in his life, the excessive amount of flowers, the crystal chandelier, the live string quartet. If this was just the ceremony he could only imagine what the reception would be like.Â
Itâs so in your face and reeks of wealth and Steve canât help but scoff because this is so not you. You two would have made fun of a wedding like this, claiming that anyone who felt the need to do something so extravagant was over compensating for an already failing relationship.Â
But that was back then and Steve hasnât talked to you in five years so hell for all he knows this is something you wanted. Maybe this was who you were now and it makes his stomach twist to think about how thereâs a whole nother version of you that he doesnât know a single thing about.Â
Thereâs so many people here that Steve is actually kind of grateful for it, he can blend in and not feel like the obvious sore thumb he isâ the ex at the wedding. Granted heâs not sure how many people here actually know who he is besides the handful of people from home, which is more than enough for him. He keeps asking himself why he ever thought it was a good idea for him to come as he tucks himself in a corner, sneaking sips from the flask heâd hidden in the breast pocket in his suit jacket.Â
He thinks he might be a masochistâ wanting to torture himself by watching the only girl heâs ever loved marry a man he could never measure up to. He doesnât know why heâs throwing himself a pity party, heâd let you go, thought he was doing the right thing all those years ago, and sometimes late at night when heâs had a little too much to drink he wonders why his love wasnât enough for you to want to stay.Â
He knows you two wanted different things back then, that making long distance work was harder than either of you could have imagined, but he swears if youâd asked him to move to New York with you when you came home that Christmas he would have. Instead youâd broken up and Steve hates himself for not fighting harder for you, for rolling over onto his back and exposing his belly for you to carve into. He knows things were hard for you and maybe you felt like you didnât have the capacity to love him and figure out who you were, but Steve didnât really know who he was back then either and still doesnât if heâs being honest. But it had never wavered his love for you because if there was one thing Steve was certain about it was how he felt about you.Â
Steveâs eyes catch sight of your Mom hurriedly walking through the crowd of people and up the grand staircaseâ a glass of wine perched in her hand. She still has that same methodical ambiance about her, carries herself with such perfectionism and control that Steve understands why you moved to the other side of the country.Â
âLook what the cat dragged in.âÂ
The familiar voice rips his eyes away from the older woman who disappears somewhere upstairs and onto the one person who heâd only ever seen wear a dress one other time, back when the tight feeling in his chest was from an alternate dimension entity murdering teenagers and not from attending a wedding.
âYou look nice Robs.âÂ
He really means it, but he can tell she doesnât care to hear his compliments.Â
âYeahâ the things we do for Y/N,â Robin states with a soft sigh as she looks out into the crowd of people and then as if she realizes what sheâs implied her eyes shoot back towards Steve. Heâs already looking at her with an expression that says tell me about it, but he doesnât say anything. He just slips his flask out of his pocket again and takes another swig, fully knowing Robin might judge him, but not caring anymore.Â
If this was any other setting Robin would have said something to him, but over the years Robin had learned the importance of time and place, and as long as Steve didnât get sloppy sad drunk before the ceremony even started, sheâd let him be. She also feels partly guilty about Steveâs current mental state, she should have never told you to invite him, should have never told him that you wanted to see him, because no matter how much she wanted you two to get back together it would never be that easy. This wasnât like the romantic comedies that Nancy would make her watch, this was real life, two real people with real feelings.Â
Although Robin has a feeling that Steve would have shown up anyways without her telling him that. Steve would push down every horrid heartbroken feeling he had if it meant you got to be happy, if he got to see you be happy, because to Steve the happiness and safety of the ones he loved meant more than his own well being. Itâs something she learned very quickly that summer she slung ice cream for a living with him. When their 4th of July was spent thousands of miles underground and how at only age nineteen Steve had taken the brunt of the horrors they experienced down there just so there wasnât a scratch on her.Â
Robin knows Steve has experienced so much hurt in his life for only being twenty seven and yet she knows him watching you get married to someone else will undoubtedly be the worst pain heâs experienced.Â
She wonders if maybe in some twisted way this is closure for him.Â
In the same twisted way she hopes itâs notâ for either of you.Â
âDid I tell you Iâm walking down the aisle with the son of the man who invented Pop-Tarts?â Robin rambles, trying to make conversation, which is something she never has to force with Steve, but she guesses there is a first time for everything.Â
It gets a slight smirk out of Steve though and so sheâll take it as a win. âLet me guess Michael Jackson is officiating the wedding isnât he?âÂ
âWell now youâve ruined the surprise!â Â
Steve can feel himself falling back into the familiar back and forth riffing he does with Robin and for a split second a real smile graces itself onto his face, but itâs gone as fast as it appears.Â
âRobin! There you are. Iâve been looking for you.âÂ
Your Mom suddenly appears next to Robin and Steve swears her presence alone causes a change in the air pressure. Her eyes lock onto his for a second, gives him a tight lipped smile, and then focuses her attention back on Robin.Â
It wasnât that your Mom didnât like Steve. In fact your parents loved him as a person, but they didnât love the fact that he hadnât gone to college and that he was working at Family Video as a full time job when you two had started dating. Your parents would never come out and say that they wanted better for you back then or at least their terms of better, especially considering your parents were friends with Steveâs, but when you two had broken up it was obvious that your parents werenât the least bit sad.Â
âHoney I need you to go help Y/N. She had a little mishap with her makeup and I need to let everyone know we might have to push the start of the ceremony back just a teensy bit.âÂ
She says it so casually like itâs no big deal and Robin and Steve share a concerned look.Â
âIs she okay?â Steve asks immediately, surprising both himself and the two women who stand in front of him.
Your Mom gives him a small smile, already halfway out of this conversation and onto the next task at hand. âOh sheâs just got a little wedding day jitters. Sheâll be all good by the time she needs to walk down the aisle.âÂ
Sheâs gone before Robin or him can ask anymore questions and something settles deep in Steveâs gut. Something he canât ignore and maybe itâs the liquid courage that heâs been nursing ever since he arrived or maybe itâs just pure concern, but he finds himself doing something he knows he shouldnât.Â
As soon as your Mom had left Robin was brought into another conversation by one of the groomsmen asking if youâd be mad if one of their ties might be a slightly darker shade than the rest of the guys and Robin wants to say âhow the fuck could they be a different shade you all went and got them togetherâ but she doesnât. She tells him it will be fine because frankly she has bigger fish to fry and that fish is you who she knows is undoubtedly a mess up in your dressing room.Â
Youâd been off for months now, but this morning while she was helping you get ready she could tell right away that your demeanor was not one of someone with wedding day jitters. Sheâd tried mentioning it in a not so obvious way, asking if this was something you still wanted, but you were always so quick to shoot her down. Your thousand yard stare quickly turning into a smile, reassuring her that this was what you wanted, but she could see the lack of sparkle in your eyes, and she hated that you felt like you had no way out of this.Â
Once the groomsmen is shooed away Robin turns back towards Steve to tell him that she probably wonât see him till after the ceremony, but his corner is no longer occupied. Her head whips around in every direction, eyebrows drawn together in confusion and a little bit of annoyance because if she knew being a maid of honor meant putting out this many fires she would have never accepted the role.Â
(Yes she would have because she loves you, but future Robin will take this day into consideration if anyone ever asks her again. Unless of course thereâs a wedding in the future that might include her two favorite people and well then maybe sheâd officiate it instead because how could she be both the maid of honor and the best man?)Â
Her eyes finally lock on to someone with shaggy brown hair ascending the grand staircase and she just stands thereâ watching him. She makes no effort to stop him and when she sees him disappear down the hall she turns on her heel and heads to the other side of the building.Â
This tie fiasco could ruin the wedding and Robin surely doesnât want that.Â
âââ ââ ââ â âââ
Steveâs legs seemingly carry him down the hall, the same legs that have carried him through the tunnels under Hawkins and through the Upside Down multiple times, but the trek down this marbled hallway feels far more scary than his times spent in alternate dimensions.Â
He knows he shouldnât be doing this, knows itâs only going to make things worse for him, but god dammit he needed to make sure you were alright. It doesnât matter how long itâs been since Steveâs seen you, if you havenât been his for five years, or if you were about ready to get married to another guyâ he was always going to care about you.Â
And he shamelessly wanted to see you. Even if he knew it would absolutely tear his heart to shreds, he wanted to see you one last time, because after today Steve was going to have to let you go.Â
At least thatâs what he keeps telling himself, but how is he supposed to let go of the girl who was and probably always will be the center of his universe?Â
The once amplified sound of what seemed like hundreds of people talking and music playing has now settled into a muffled buzz in the distance as Steve stands in front of a double solid dark oak door. He can see his distorted face reflecting back at him in the golden door knobs and the Mrs. Carter sprawled across the center of the door on some sign that probably cost more than what he makes in a week teaching middle schoolers about puberty makes him want to reach back into his breast pocket for that security blanket once more.Â
He runs his hand through his hair, takes a very shaky deep breath, and then with a whispered fuck itâ he knocks on the door.Â
âRobs?âÂ
Steveâs heart embarrassingly skips a beat over just hearing your voice. It had been five years since heâd heard it, the first time heâs heard it since you looked at him with tears streaming down your face telling him that youâre always going to love him before ending what was the best thing that had ever happened to him.Â
The fact that he can tell youâve been cryingâ even through the door. God it makes his head spin because you never truly forget what it sounds like when the woman you love is hurting. He knows you may very well tell him to fuck off and to get out, but itâs a risk heâs willing to take if it meant seeing you.Â
His hand shakes as it hovers over the door knob and before he can seem to lose the courage he wraps his large hand around the cool metal. Â
On the other side of the door youâre oblivious that itâs anyone other than your best friend coming to help you and you donât think of the implications of what youâre saying or the fact that it could be someone elseâ you just desperately call out to her as the door creaks open.
âRobin, I need you. I donât know what to do.âÂ
Your face is hidden in your hands, still sitting at the vanity, not knowing how the hell youâre supposed to walk down the aisle in less than an hour and marry Chris. All you do know is that you need your best friend to talk you down off this ledge and maybe possibly help you figure out how to get out of this.Â
âRobin?â you question once you realize the door had opened, but she hadnât made her presence known.
As youâre lifting your head up Steve finally peaks his head in from around the corner and when you two make eye contact in the mirror you swear it feels like Pluto has flown off its orbit and collided directly into the sunâ imploding itself and the entire solar system.Â
A buzzing silence fills the room and you stare back at him in the mirror for the longest time, waiting for him to disappear, thinking that youâve had a psychotic break and you were hallucinating him being here. You slowly turn in your chair and with unsteady legs you get up to face him, your hands gripping the back of the chair for support.Â
âSteve?âÂ
It comes out so broken, but what should you expect when youâre broken yourself?Â
Steve feels his knees go weak under him and he tries to casually lean against the table to his right, like his knuckles arenât turning white from how heâs have to hold himself up. Itâs embarrassing and his cheeks flush over how his knees had nearly buckled under him at the sound of your voice.Â
Over the sound of you saying his name.Â
âHi angel.âÂ
The old pet name slips off Steveâs tongue with such ease no one would have ever guessed it had been five years since you two had been together. Steve doesnât even register that heâs said it, heâs too mesmerized by how beautiful you look. How youâre standing there in front of him looking like a real life angel in the white dress that heâd imagined you in so many times. It takes his breath away in such a heartbreaking way because all those dreams were never going to become a reality and the proof was right in front of him.Â
Your heart does a traitorous thing when you hear him call you angel and it does nothing to help ease the ache in your chest, if anything it makes it worse. Your hand still grips the back of the chair like a lifeline as you stand there staring at him, taking in the man you havenât seen in years. Heâs changed so much yet not all in that time and your stomach churns over the fact that you once knew every single thing about him, but now thereâs half a decade of Steve that you know nothing about.Â
When youâd left him he still had some of his boyish features, but now at twenty seven heâd grown into himself. His hair wasnât as long as it was back in high school, but it was still long enough in that classic Steve way. There were crinkles around those all too familiar hazel eyes and you remember Robin telling you he coaches little league and you wonder if theyâre from him being out in the sun. You could also tell that heâd gained some weight, filling out his suit in a way that had your eyes trailing all over his body. The slight pudge that made its presence known over his belt. It looked good on him and it didn't slip past you the way the fabric on the arm of his suit jacket strained when he lifted his arm to run his hand through his hair.Â
He looked good.Â
He looked too good.Â
And you shouldnât be thinking that about someone else on your wedding day.Â
Steve could tell from your tone of voice through the door that you had been crying, but if he hadnât been able to, well he could definitely tell now. Your mascara was still smudged slightly around your bloodshot eyes and your skin was red and splotchyâ a tell tale sign that you were stressed and or upset.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â you ask softly, not trusting your voice enough to not crack again.Â
A little smile tugs at his lips, like heâs trying to make things less awkward, âWell I was invitedâŚfull government name and everything.âÂ
You give him a lookâ a look that he still knows very well and knows that now is not the time for jokes.Â
Steve glances down at the floor, his bottom lip tucked securely between his teeth. The idea of admitting that he was coming to check on you, that he wanted to see you, made his stomach twist. Because he knows he doesnât really have the right to do those things, feel those things, with you anymore.Â
He hasnât for a long time, but old habits die hard.Â
He moves closer to you, just enough that itâs noticeable, but not enough that youâd feel inclined to step backâ not that you would anyways.Â
âI heard your Mom say the start of the ceremony was being pushed back and I wanted to make sure everything was alright.âÂ
His eyes wander up from the floor to you and the way youâre looking at him, eyes all round and lashes still damp from your tears, it makes Steve throw all his restraint out the window.Â
âAnd I wanted to see you,â he states, like it doesnât crack something deep in his chest. âI wanted to see you one last time.âÂ
Your fingernails dig into your palms, trying to stop yourself from breaking again, to stop your already watery eyes from leaking again. Itâs funny that you thought inviting him would somehow make things easier for you, to close off that chapter in your life once and for all. You should have known it wouldnât work like that, should have known that the moment you saw him again everything would come rushing back tenfold, that your orbit around your sun could never be severed.Â
When you donât respond Steve finds himself taking a deep breath, trying to not let your silence over him wanting to see you again bruise his already very fragile heart. He knew it was a little forward, but what did he have to lose? You were already standing in front of him wearing a wedding dress that another man was going to help you out of later.Â
The smell hits you instantly. As soon as the air leaves his pretty pink lips youâre met with the overwhelming smell of alcohol. There wasn't any alcohol available to anyone until the reception, which means Steve either snuck some in, or drank before he got here. Itâs then that you really take in how glassy his eyes are and how messy his hair really is, he was always one to constantly run his fingers through it when he was tipsy, never knowing what to do with his hands.Â
His speech wasnât slurred yet, but you could imagine if heâd found you any later heâd be on the cusp of it.Â
âWhy have you been drinking?â you ask abruptly.Â
Steve wants to sayâ because I canât get through watching you marry another man sober.Â
Because ever since I got that invitation in the mail Iâve been drinking to cope.Â
Because Iâve looked for you in every woman Iâve been with since you left. (which isnât a lot)
Because I know after today Iâm going to have to let you go, even when I havenât had you for years.
Because I donât know if I can ever move on from you even if I tell myself to let you go.Â
Because itâs been five years and my Mom has been starting to ask when Iâm going to find someone to settle down with.Â
Because Iâm hoping that maybe you still feel the same and maybe this wonât end with me at a bar tonight.Â
Because I still love you.Â
Instead, he turns the conversation back on you, not wanting to dive into his own personal issues, and asks. âWhy have you been crying?âÂ
You narrow your eyes at him, annoyed that heâs trying to avoid your question by bringing up the obvious elephant in the room. Thereâs so many things you want to tell him, so many things that would ultimately determine if you were going to be walking down the aisle shortly, and you wonder if you asked Steve to sneak you out the back if he would.Â
He would without a second thought.Â
Do you tell him the truth? Do you tell him all the reasons that have been swirling around in your brain as you stand here in your custom made wedding dress staring into the glassy eyes of the man who would light the world on fire if you asked him to.Â
You could tell him your red rimmed eyes and smeared mascara is just because of nerves.
But what you really want to say is â itâs because my special day is nothing like I ever expected it to be.
Because I feel like an imposter.Â
Because the man that will be standing across from me at the altar isnât a five foot eleven hazel eyed boy from Hawkins.Â
Because my parents want this marriage to happen more than anything in the world, even at the expense of their own daughterâs well being.Â
Because I realized that moving away and leaving you was never going to fix me and that I was never trapped in Hawkins. I was running from something much bigger than myself.Â
Because seeing you here is killing me and knowing youâve been drinking is making it even worse.Â
Because youâre always going to be my sun and my orbit around you still hasnât strayed even after all these years.Â
Because Iâve thought about you showing up like this a million times and now that youâre here I canât work up the nerve to ask you the one thing I need you to do for me.Â
Because I wonder if you still love me even after I left you like I did.Â
Because I still love you.Â
But none of that comes out of your mouthâ you lie straight to his face instead.
âIâm just nervous,â you respond. âI think every woman cries a little bit on her wedding day if weâre being honest. I mean thereâs a lot of people out there. What if I trip walking down the aisle? Or what if I forget my vows?â
Itâs all bullshit and you can tell as Steveâs eyes flicker across your face, taking in your wrecked features for the millionth time since he stepped foot into this room, that he knows it too. Heâd always been able to tell when you were lying, when something much bigger was bothering you than youâd let on, and itâs times like this when you realize he probably knew about you wanting to leave Hawkins way before you did.Â
He doesnât say anything right away and lets your response linger in the air. He isnât really sure what to say, heâd heard you crying out for Robin through the door, can clearly see the stress hives on your chest, this wasnât just a little wedding day nerves. This was you freaking out and Steve doesnât know if itâs because of your Mom or if itâs something else.Â
He selfishly hopes itâs the something else, but if it was, how would that even play out? Youâre supposed to be marrying Chris in less than an hour and what if this is all just nerves? Does he risk making a fool of himself by insinuating what he thinks is going on with you? What he hopes is going on? He doesnât really have much to lose if he does, but thereâs still something holding Steve back.Â
Itâs been five years since heâs seen you and in that time, not only has he changed, but so have you. Say he does put everything out on the table, asks you if you really want to marry Chris or just straight up tells you not to marry Chris. Who says youâd even want to be with him? Or if things would even work out. In a month you could regret ever leaving him today and Steve would be painted the fool. Hell, he doesn't even know if you still have feelings for him. The irrational side of him though, the side that still holds on to what you told him when you left years ago, tells him itâs a possibility.Â
The rational sideâ it tells him to let you go.
Youâre both not teenagers anymore, fighting demogorgons and saving your podunk town for years on end. Youâre adults with real life responsibilities, and jobs, and 401kâs that Steve still isnât really sure he understands. Things are so different from what they used to be and Steve canât help but think about how when things got realâ when all the adrenaline from years of being on edge had finally worn offâ you left. And maybe thatâs a sign that you two werenât meant to be together in the real world, facing normal people problems that now seemed much harder than defeating Vecna ever was.Â
His irrational side takes over long enough for him to break his already fragile heart.Â
âDo you love him?â Steve asks, his throat constricting as the words come tumbling out.Â
His question steals the air from your lungs and you swear you can feel the corset backing on your dress tightening again. This is what you had wanted, youâd wanted him to question things, wanted him to come save you, and you canât get yourself to say the words you need to.Â
âIââÂ
Tell me not to do it Steve.Â
âI love him,â you reply with what is the most uncertain tone coming from a woman whoâs about to marry said man. âI love him enough.âÂ
Tell me not to marry him.Â
âYou love him enough?â An ugly feeling settles deep in Steveâs chest as he wrestles with the realization that your love for him was clearly never enough for you to stay in Hawkins, but you apparently love Chris just enough to marry him.Â
The tears youâve been holding back finally break past their barrier and then they come down harder when you realize that the man whoâd wipe them away as soon as the first one fell wasnât even moving an inch towards you.Â
âIânoâSteveââ your words come out wet and broken and you have no fucking clue to what even say anymore. âThat came out wrongââ it came out exactly like you wanted it to. âIâve just got a lot going on in my head right now.âÂ
Say anything. Say anything at all and I wonât marry him.Â
Steve can feel his emotions starting to get the better of him and he knows he should just leave the conversation at this because the longer he stands here and watches you cry the worse itâs going to get for him, but heâs got to get one last thing off his chest.Â
âDo you remember what you told me when we broke up?â Steve asks, holding out hope that youâd held on to the same thing as him after all these years.Â
You sheepishly shake your head no at him, there was a lot of things youâd rambled to him that night, and maybe if youâre brain wasnât fucked up beyond belief right now youâd be able to decipher what he was alluding to.Â
Steve tries to swallow down the giant lump in his throat, he should have known you wouldnât remember, should have known every question he would throw your way would only hurt him, but fuck it heâs got a little bit of whiskey left in his flask, so he might as well continue.Â
âYouâd told me that youâd always love me,â he can see the broken realization on your face, but he continues. âAnd for the longest time I held on to that, hoping that youâd come back to me, and you never did. Which I should have expected, but I showed up to your wedding, came into this room, with the idea that maybe you still loved me even just half as much as I still love you.â
He shakes his head, eyes flickering back down to the floor in an act of selfpreservation.
âI donât know what I was expecting to happen. I donât even know why Iâm telling you all of this right now, but Iâd held on to those words for so long that there was part of me that had hoped youâd see me and everything would go back to how it used to be, but I know this isnât a fairytale. This is real life and youâre marrying another man and I have to accept that.âÂ
This is where you tell him that you still love him. This is where everything changes and you can feel like yourself againâ with the only person who ever really understood you. This is where relief should be flooding your nervous system.Â
Instead you stand there with tears streaming down your face and paralyzed vocal chords.
You can see the first few tears cascade down Steveâs cheeks and you want to reach out and wipe them away, remember how his skin feels under your touch, but you canât.Â
Steve wipes away his own tears and looks back up at you, clearing his throat before continuing to break not only his own heart, but yours too. âIâm choosing to believe that whatâs going on with you is just nerves because if it was something else you would have told me. And Iâm sorry for springing this on you but I couldnâtââ his voice cracks and he stops, shaking his head in annoyance at himself. âIâm happy for you and Chris seems like a great guy. I think maybe being nervous is a good thing, yeah? Just shows that you want your special day to be everything you imagined.âÂ
âSteve,â you finally choke out. Thereâs so much you want to say to him, so much you need to say to him, but you canât get it out. You donât have time to get it out. Because as much as you want him to run away with you, as much as youâre looking at him with pleading eyes, trying to get him to just take your hand and run out the back.Â
Itâs not going to happen.Â
Heâs too good of a man to do it and youâre too chicken shit to tell him.Â
How youâre even standing right now is beyond youâ youâve got no backbone. Never have. Probably never will. Hopefully in the plethora of gifts that your Mom was boasting about earlierâ someone has given you one.Â
Itâs clear that youâll marry Chris because heâs good to you and because it will make your parents happy. Youâll also let Steve walk out of this room and hope that maybe the universe would give you a third chance in the future, because even if youâre married, even if this is Steveâs way of letting you go.Â
How can Pluto ever stop orbiting its sun?Â
His hand reaches out and you let him intertwine his fingers with yours, relishing in the feeling of his skin on yours for the first time in years. Electricity travels up your arm and directly into your chestâ blooming something achingly familiar in your heart. You donât want to let him go, donât want to have to forget the way it feels to do something as simple as holding his hand or hear him call you angel again.Â
You squeeze his hand as you look into those doe eyes of his and for a split second you feel like youâre seventeen again in the Family Video parking lot. The frigid winter air nipped at your skin back then as you leaned against your car, but you never even felt the effects of it because you had your sun right in front of you. Which is how you feel now, even for just a minute, having him here in front of you, it dulls the ache in your heart.Â
Steve takes a shaky deep breath and you know this is the end, this is where heâs going to let you go, and you wonder if this is how he felt when you left him standing in his bedroom that Christmas. You feel his grip loosen just a tad, but you hold on tighter, not letting him leave before heâs said goodbye.Â
He reaches up with his other hand and cradles the side of your face, his thumb gently wiping away your tears. It makes your breath hitch in your throat and the tears fall even harder, but you shamelessly lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut, trying to savor this fleeting moment.Â
Even after everything, this was still your Steve standing in front of you. Still the same caring boy whoâd put himself between you and too many life threatening situations to count, who would always bring you over free ice cream that summer he worked at Scoops and you worked at the Gap, who threw you a graduation party when Hawkins going into lockdown had ruined everything about the end of your senior year. Five years had passed and heâd fallen back into old habits like nothing had happened, like both of you werenât hurting.
âI'll always love you Y/N, but Iâve got to let you go.âÂ
His words hit you square in the chest, like youâve gotten the wind knocked out of you, and to make matters worse you feel his touch evade you. Clearly drawing the line in the sand with not only his words but his actions. As you slowly blink open your eyes youâre praying that this has all been a bad dream and youâd be back in your bed in New York, but luck has never been on your side, and Steve stands before you with round wet eyes that will haunt your dreams tonight.Â
Steve wants to tell you a million other things, wants to stay holed up in this dressing room with you for eternity, but he knows he canât. Hell heâs surprised your Mom hasnât busted down the door wondering why you werenât ready to walk down the aisle by now, but either way he knows his time with you is limited.Â
Heâd seen you, told you his feelings, and now he was going to watch you marry another man.Â
âYou know,â Steve shuffles back a bit from you, starting his exit plan. âI always thought youâd make a beautiful bride and itâs nice to know I was right.âÂ
He finds himself biting the inside of his cheek, trying to not let himself cry again as he walks backwards towards the door.Â
You open your mouth to say anything to get him to stick around, but nothing comes out, and youâre internally screaming, pleading for him to not leave you.Â
It seems to play out in slow motion as you watch his hand grip the door knob, the sound of the door opening ricochets off the walls, and then in a split second your sun leaves you and takes every bit of warmth with him. Silent tears stream down your face and when Robin walks in seconds later youâre none the wiser to the fact that sheâd been eavesdropping in the hallway to hear at least the worst bits.Â
She guides you to sit down at the vanity while she grabs some things from the bathroom. Time doesnât seem to exist to you right now, and you donât even realize sheâs exited the bathroom until you feel her pressing a cold washcloth to the back of your neck and chest, trying to get you to calm down. She doesnât say anything to you, which youâre eternally grateful for, but when you make eye contact with her in the mirror as she stands behind you, you know she knows.Â
She knows youâre back in the Family Video parking lot, except youâve locked your keys inside your car, and Steve is nowhere to be found.Â
Forty-five minutes later and only a half an hour past the ceremony start time, Robin and you exit the dressing room hand in hand, leaving behind your conversation with Steve and an empty wine glass.
âââ ââ ââ â âââ
                                                                  The moment the live string quartet starts playing Canon in D and everyone stands Steve wishes the floor would swallow him whole. As soon as the giant double doors open he hears a gasp from the crowd and he wants to punch himself for sitting in an aisle seat. He wonders if itâs too late to ask Lucas to switch seats, but then he locks eyes with you as you start coming down the aisle and whatever he was thinking goes out the window. It was one thing to see you in your dressing room, but this was different, this was real, and he feels his chest crack wide open. You looked like an angel, so breathtaking, and heâd imagined this day so many times before, what youâd look like as you walked down the aisle towards him, he just never thought heâd be in the crowd and not at the altar.Â
He doesn't have Robin to lean on right now, just a very judgemental yet caring Max next to him that can definitely smell the whiskey on him, but doesnât say anything. Mainly because Max is just observant at twenty-two as she was at fifteen and she knows that Steve Harrington is still very much in love with you. She knows heâs been struggling, knows this has to be the worst day of his life and sheâs surprised he even came, but he was here and that has to count for something.Â
Max feels a slight pang in her chest as she looks up at the man that has saved her life more times than she can count. He looks broken, far from the bat-slinging teenage boy she once knew, and she finds herself reaching out for his hand hanging idle at his side. Without a second thought she wraps her hand around his and gives him a reassuring squeeze, letting him know that sheâs here and when he turns his head towards her and gives her a smile that says thank you, she gives him one back. She gently bumps his shoulder with hers like sheâs telling him you know itâs no big deal, and he squeezes her hand back.
Their hands stay intertwined the whole ceremony and when the officiant says those famous six words, Max feels Steve grip her hand to the point where it hurts, but she knows that twenty seconds of pain is nothing compared to what Steve is feeling right now.
The guests cheer and holler and clap, but all Steve can hear is a constant ringing in his head, like heâd rung his bell too hard again. He watches as Chris and you walk back down the aisle hand in hand with big smiles on your faces. It makes Steveâs chest burn with such fierceness that he canât catch his breath. The groomsmen and bridesmaids follow in tow of the newly married couple and he doesnât miss the sympathetic look Robin shoots his way, it makes him feel even worse, like heâs the pathetic ex that showed up to the wedding just to ruin the vibe.Â
The crowd eventually trickles out of the room and he hears Max and Lucas asking him something from behind him, but he doesnât answer, doesnât follow the crowd into the ball room. He just keeps going straight and lets the entrance doors slam behind him as fresh air finally fills his burning lungs.Â
whoâs gonna drive you home tonight? - steve harrington
frat! steve harrington x sorority girl! reader
part one of ???
masterlist tag list steve masterlist
summary:
youâve hated steve harrington since the day you met him. unfortunately for you, your sorority and his frat go hand in hand, and you canât escape him. he gets no greater joy in life than to piss you off. when a frat party like any other turns into something heated with the guy you hate more than anyone else, neither of you are sure how to deal with it.
warnings:
smut (18+), protected p in v, dubcon? (theyâre both high), oral sex (f receiving), thigh riding, fingering, messy, rough sex, big dick steve, mention of masturbation (m and f), drinking, drug use (weed), pervy comments, steve is actually insufferable at first
word count: 17.5k words
a/n:
there is soooo much left of this fic, i have the whole thing outlined and iâm so excited! it will def be 4+ parts but i really wanted to share the beginning with you and hopefully it will motivate me to finish it soon đ i really hope you like it!!
The first time you met Steve, you almost slapped him.
His reputation preceded him. Even your freshman year at Ohio State University, fresh out of rush week, youâd heard plenty about Sigma Chi pledge Steve Harrington. They were singing his praises from day oneâhe was handsome, a baseball genius, the life of any party. He commanded the attention of any room he stepped into. You were a little sick of him to begin with from how your Delta Gamma sisters wouldnât shut up about him for two seconds even before that first party.
And when you walked into the Sigma Chi house for the first time, you didnât even need to be told which one was the Harrington. The world gravitated around him like he was the sun itself, and he seemed to glow like it, too. He was handsome, devastatingly so. His smile was blinding. He had a stupidly good head of hair, gorgeous sun-kissed skin dotted with moles like constellations, and big hazel eyes that made him look deceptively sweet.
Youâd met eyes from across the room, and at the time, it had felt like something clicking into place. Two puzzle pieces who had finally found where they belonged. Your breath hitched as he left the group he was talking to and sauntered over, that brilliant smile now directed specifically at you and you alone. Your heart had felt like it might burst from your chest.
âOh my god,â one of your sisters, Margot, had said, grabbing onto your arm. âHeâs coming over here.â
He didnât even glance at her. He only looked at you. He wore a polo with jeans that fit him just right, a red plastic cup clutched in his large hand. When he reached you, you could smell his cologne, something intoxicating that made your head spin. He really was everything everyone had promised.
And then he opened his mouth.
âHi,â heâd said, extending a hand towards you. âIâm Steve. And you are fucking beautiful.â
Embarrassingly, youâd giggled like a total fool, given him your hand, and introduced yourself. âNice to meet you, Steve.â
Heâd actually taken your hand and kissed your knuckles, like the prince he absolutely saw himself as. And then, that suave grin turned into something more like a cocky smirk, a look youâd grow to know and loathe. âYou know, you look like a girl who deserves the very best,â heâd said. âAnd, wouldnât you know itâby sheer coincidence, youâre looking at the best this frat has to offer.â
Okay, a little eye roll worthy, but that wasnât abnormal for these frat guys. Youâd raised an eyebrow. âOh yeah? And what could you possibly offer me?â
His smirk had widened, and he moved in, grabbing you by the hip and pulling you against him. âOh, things beyond your wildest dreams, baby,â heâd murmured, even as you gasped at the sheer audacity of this guy. âWhy donât we go up to my room and I can show you?â
Youâd shoved him back by his chest, making him stumble, the beer in his cup sloshing over the sides and onto his light blue shirt. âYouâre a fucking perv.â
Steveâs expression had immediately transformed into something harder, all traces of the charming smile from moments ago completely erased. âWhat the fuck?â
âYou donât get to just walk up and touch me. I donât even know you.â Youâd scoffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest. âDoes that actually work for you?â
âYeah, actually,â heâd said, looking at you with pure distaste now. âWith girls who arenât an uptight cocktease.â
Youâd laughed, but only in an attempt to keep yourself from punching this guy square in the jaw. âOh, wow. Fuck you.â
âFuck me, huh?â heâd said, that stupid smirk back in place. âYou know, thatâs a good idea, maybe it would help if I got that stick out of your ass and gave you something elseââ
âOh-kay, letâs go get a drink!â Margot had said, dragging you away before you could land the slap you were winding up. You heard him laughing behind you, the sound loud and infuriating.
âSee you around, baby!â heâd called after you. Margot just dug her fingers into your arm, pulling you to a completely different part of the house as fast as she could.
Things with Steve did not improve after that. And, unfortunately for you, you couldnât escape him. He was everywhere you turned. Not only the golden boy on campusâhis photo was used on any and all promotions for the championship winning baseball teamâbut, soon, also the president of Sigma Chi. And your houses went hand in hand.
Every party you went to, Steve was there, holding court among his adoring subjects. The guys on campus thought he was the coolest guy who ever lived, and the girls were practically stepping over each other for a chance with him. You attempted to keep your distance, but Steve loved annoying you more than he loved the girls begging to go up to his bedroom.
Delta Gamma also partnered with Sigma Chi for just about everything. As the top houses, it was just a given. Every event, every fundraiser, every charity event and mixer and rager. As much as you adored everything about your sorority and had always felt like youâd made the wrong choice, Steve was the one thing that made you question it.
It was no secret, either. Everyone knew you and Steve hated each other. Steveâs frat brothers found it hilarious, while your sisters tried their best to keep you away from each other. You just couldnât get alongâbeing in each otherâs space for too long always ended in disaster. A loud argument, heated insults, or sometimes even a thrown drink, if Steve was feeling extra mouthy that night. You were best kept far away from one another.
Youâd grown close with another girl whoâd pledged Delta Gamma, Nancy. Nancy was sweet and smart and although you loved all your sisters, youâd clicked with her immediately. Nancy also happened to know Steve well. Theyâd grown up together, even dated briefly in high school.
âSteve is an asshole,â Nancy had told you, confirming everything you already thought. âSeriously, donât let him try to charm you. Heâs full of it.â
It kind of seemed like you and Nancy were the only ones who saw it, though. Of course there were the girls heâd already scorned, but the vast majority of the Ohio State female student population were head over heels for Steve Harrington. You couldnât help but roll your eyes every time you saw it.
That would never be you.
Your junior year had just begun, and by the end of September, homecoming season was well underway. Sigma Chi had already partnered with Delta Gamma, a surprise to no one.
What was a surprise was that you had a chance at being crowned queen this year. Homecoming court was something youâd never given much thought to. Your attention was already divided in so many directionsâbetween your classes and honor society, track, event planning and sorority obligations with being Social Chair, and being a TA for the first time this year, you were booked and busy. The crown was the least of your concern. Even now, you didnât stress about it. Everyone knew your chapter president, Lindsey, would be taking the crown anyway.
The week of homecoming itself was always busy and filled with excitementâstuffed full of events and activities, a good chunk of which you had a hand in planning. But still, courting had begun, and Tommy Hagan had been going all out to catch your attention.
It started with a bouquet of flowers so huge you had to divide them up into three different vases just to display them in a way that didnât look ridiculous. Then, it was the food. Fruit baskets, a mini cake, so much of your favorite candy and chocolate you had to beg your sisters to eat some of it. The day you walked out of the house to the entire OSU choir serenading you on the front lawn, youâd been utterly speechless.
Tommy was nice enough, you guessed. If you had to partner with someone, he wasnât the worst choice. That would be Steve Harrington, who, by expectations aloneâbecause Steve didnât put much effort into anything that wasnât baseball or getting his dick wetâwas courting Lindsey. He didnât even have to try and he knew it.
There was a new gift or grand gesture from Tommy daily, while Steve had sent a single box of milk chocolates, a half dozen and definitely the cheapest on the shelf even though everyone knew the Harringtons were absolutely loadedâand Lindsey was allergic to dairy. You could tell she was annoyed about it, but she was going to partner with Steve regardless. Every time you brought another elaborate gift into the house, the look she gave you was cold and cutting. It wasâŚawkward.
At least for now, you could push thoughts of homecoming from your brain. It was Saturday night, and you were ready to have some fun. Or at least try to, because you were about to walk right into King Steveâs kingdom.
Youâd think you would have gotten used to his presence by now, but he never got any less annoying. Itâs not like you could just skip every party. Everyone knew Sigma Chi threw the best parties of any frat on campus. Were you just not supposed to go because the president was a total pain in the ass? You could kiss your social status goodbye real fast.
Sometimes youâd get lucky and wouldnât see him at all the whole night. Maybe just a flash of his stupid hair, or the sound of his laugh from another room. A glimpse at his cocky smirk as he led some poor girl up to his room. And other nights, he seemed hell bent on annoying you as much as possible.
You really, really hoped for the former tonight. You walked into the house with Nancy and Margot, the bass already thumping, the place overrun with college students in various states of intoxication. You looked good, you knew you did. Tiny skirt that showed off your legs, a top that displayed just enough chest to have guys staring every time they walked past. Not that that was hard.
âDo you want me to get us drinks?â Nancy asked, leaning over to yell over the music right in your ear. You nodded, and she gave you a soft smile before pushing her way through to the kitchen.
There was no sign of Steve so far, which you hoped was a good omen. Your eyes scanned the room, mostly familiar faces, but a decent amount of freshmen you hadnât gotten to know well yet were there, too.
Nancy was back quickly, walking through the crowd holding the two red cups up high in an attempt to not spill them or get anything on her white blouse. She let out a sigh of relief when she finally reached you, handing you a drink.
âItâs a total madhouse in there,â she said. âLike, more than usual.â
âHow many new pledges are there this year?â you asked, taking a sip of your beer. You linked hands with Nancy and began pushing through to the living room. You eventually found a place to stand against the wall, surveying the rest of the party.
âI have no idea,â she said. Her curls were pulled back on top with a bow, and she held her drink between both delicate hands. âItâs gotta be more than last year, right?â
It certainly seemed like it. The Sigma Chi parties were always intense, but it felt like you could barely move. âWith Harrington in charge this year, who knows.â
Nancy rolled her eyes. âGod, I know. When I heard he was president, I almost thought about dropping out.â
You laughed, shaking your head and taking another sip of your beer. âAt least in two more years, Iâll never have to see him again.â
âLucky you,â Nancy grumbled. âIâm sure Iâll always be seeing him at some point when Iâm back in Hawkins for holidays. Itâs like I canât escape him.â
The sound of your name being called caught your attention. You looked around, looking for the sourceâand saw Tommy Hagan on his way over, hand held up in a wave and a bright smile on his freckled face.
âHere comes your loverboy,â Nancy mumbled into her cup, looking away like she was minding her own business.
âHey,â Tommy said as he reached you. He wasnât as bad as Steve, but they were best friends and looked like they could have shared a wardrobe. He wore a dark red polo and jeans, one hand now in his pocket and the other holding his own drink. âWow, you look beautiful.â
âThanks,â you smiled politely. âUm, thanks for the flowers this morning. Blue this time, huh?â
âYeah,â he said, his smile somewhat sheepish as he ran a hand through his short hair. âI was thinking, like, a different bouquet for every color of the rainbow, or something.â
You nodded, eyebrows raised. âOoh, yeah. I see the vision.â
A soft blush colored the pale skin on his cheeks. âDid you like them?â
He was being so sweet, you couldnât help but soften. You werenât interested in Tommy romantically, but you were happy to partner with him if thatâs what he wanted. âThey were beautiful. Seriously.â His eyes lit up, and at the fear of yet another bouquet to make your bedroom look even more like a greenhouse, you added, âBut I am starting to run out of room to put vases.â
Tommy laughed softly, looking down at the floor. âYeah. Maybe I should try to get creative.â
A shout came from the sliding glass back door, drawing all of your attention behind him. âHagan! Come out here and show the new brothers how a keg stand is done!â
Tommy turned back to you. âSorry. Duty calls, I guess,â he said, although he didnât look all that sorry. Sigma Chi took their keg stands very seriously. âIâll catch you around later though, yeah? Youâre not planning to turn in early or anything?â
âIâll be here,â you confirmed, drinking from your cup again. âGo show âem, Hagan.â
His grin only widened. âSee you later, beautiful.â
You watched him go, laughing softly as he immediately switched gears from gentleman to frat bro the second he reached the back door.
âPlease let him be done with the bouquets,â Nancy said as soon as he was gone, done acting like she hadnât been paying attention the whole time. âIâve already got half of the flowers in my room.â
The party went on, and eventually you lost Nancy to the crowd. Sheâd started seeing this guy a few weeks ago, Vance, a transfer student who had her totally smitten like youâd never seen before. While Nancy had always been your partner at these partiesâmore like your shield from Steve Harringtonâsheâd started wanting to spend more time with Vance, and who were you to stop her?
It wasnât until later in the night, when you were leaning against the wall with yet another drink, that you finally saw him. Or heard him, rather, because his obnoxious loud voice and laugh usually entered a room before he did. At least he had a warning bell, you thought.
When Steve entered the living room with his friends, telling some story that was definitely not funny enough to warrant how hard they were laughing, you thought about making a run for it. But then his eyes locked with yours from across the room, and he shot you that stupid fucking smirk that made you irritated immediately. And he knew it.
He stared at you even while he kept talking to his friends, and you stared back. He liked to do these little power plays. Even the women around him werenât drawing his attention away. And finally, much to your disappointment, he turned away long enough to excuse himself before walking straight for you.
You really regretted not making your escape while you had the chance.
Steve greeted you by your last name, something none of the other guys did, since they cared about actually impressing you. âHow sweet of you to grace my house with your presence. I almost didnât expect you to show.â
You scoffed. âJust because youâre president this year doesnât mean youâre specialââ
âActually, it does,â he smirked. âThis is my kingdom, baby.â He held his arms out, as if the opulent house crammed full of sweaty, drunk college students was supposed to impress you. âAnd youâre talking to the king.â
You couldnât have rolled your eyes harder if you tried. âDo you even hear yourself when you talk? Itâs like everything you say comes from the official douchebag handbook.â
His smirk only widened. âMaybe it does. Maybe I even wrote it.â
âSteve, Iâm not even sure you can read.â You shook your head, looking off to the side, searching for any lifeline out of this conversation with your least favorite person on earth. âWhy are you over here bothering me, anyway? Donât you have some poor girl to flatter long enough to get in her pants?â
âIâd much rather get under that skirt,â he quipped. When your head snapped back in his direction, eyes practically glowing with the fire behind them and the promise of pouring your drink all over his dark blue shirt and stupid khakis, he held his hands up in mock surrender. âOkay, okay,â he laughed. âI came over because you looked fucking miserable. Why do you always look so bored? Youâre at a party.â
âIâm not bored,â you retorted simply.
âCouldâve fooled me,â he said, leaning a hand against the wall next to you. âYou look pissed off to even be here.â
âThatâs because youâre talking to me.â
Steve laughed, which was maybe your least favorite sound in the world. âEvery time I see you here, you look bored. Like you think youâre too good to even be here.â
âWell, unfortunately, Sigma Chi has the most annoying guy possible as their president, soâŚâ you trailed off, a hand on your hip. You took a sip from your beer again, but you would need a lot more alcohol to make Steveâs presence bearable.
He hummed, as if he were considering it. âI donât know. I think you feel like youâre above all this.â He gestured around the room. âWhy would you join a sorority if you hate parties so bad?â
âI donât hate parties,â you argued. And it was trueâyou didnât. You could have plenty of fun at a party. You were Social Chair.
âWell, whatever it is, youâre bringing down the mood,â he said. He downed the rest of his own drink, sitting the empty plastic cup on the mantel, where it would surely sit until some poor pledges were tasked with cleaning the whole place tomorrow.
âI donât think anyone cares what Iâm doing,â you muttered. âOther than you, for some fucking reason.â
Steve grinned again. âI know what you need.â
âYeah?â You raised your eyebrows. âIs it for you to leave me alone and never speak to me again? Because I could agree with that.â
âYou need to get high.â
That made you pause. âWhat?â
His smile grew. âI think you need to loosen up. Like, a lot.â He pointed a thumb over his shoulder, back towards the staircase. âI could roll us a joint. I wanted to go smoke anyway.â
You just blinked at him. âYouâreââ You were genuinely stunned. âYouâre inviting me to go up to your room and smoke? This isnât, like, some weird attempt to have sex, right? Because that is never gonna happenââ
âNo, Jesus,â he laughed. âI just think you need to stop being so damn uptight for once. It would help, believe me.â
âIâve smoked before, Iâm not some prude,â you mumbled, because you knew thatâs exactly what Steve saw you as. âIf youâre offering, why canât you just, likeâŚroll me one and bring it back down here?â
âI keep the good shit hidden in my room,â he shrugged. âOtherwise, these assholes would steal it all. They donât need to know about it.â
You hesitated, because no matter how badly you wanted to accept the invitation for some free weed, it came with a worse costâspending time one on one with Steve Harrington. He looked at you expectantly while you looked around the room, biting the inside of your cheek as you fought with yourself over it.
âFine,â you said finally. âBut we smoke, and then Iâm coming right back down here and finding Nancy.â
âDeal,â he smirked. âAt least youâll be more fun. We have a reputation here, you know.â
You rolled your eyes yet again as he turned, leading the way back to the staircase. The crowd always seemed to part for Steve like he was true royalty, a deep seated respect that you personally would never understand. Your eyes darted around to every face you passed, absolutely mortified at the idea of someone seeing you following him upstairs, but no one seemed to notice.
The polished wood of the banister was smooth beneath your palm as you followed. Youâd never even been up these stairs at all, the second floor a total mystery you had never been too eager to uncover. Steveâs shoes thudded against the shining hardwood floors, passing room after room occupied with couples, some of them not even bothering to close the door all the way. You scrunched your face up in disgust at one particularly shameless makeout session with the bedroom door wide open.
Steve reached a room at the end of the hall, turning to look at you over his shoulder before turning the doorknob, as if it were some grand reveal. You had to admitâonly to yourselfâbut you were a little curious about what waited on the other side.
You trailed into the room behind him, closing the door behind you. You looked around as Steve kneeled by his bed, pulling out a shoebox. The bedroom was neat, bed made, clothes put away besides the ones piled in the laundry hamper. There was a desk with a lamp, soft light shining over a mess of papers and textbooks. His dresser was cluttered with hair products and a few bottles of expensive cologne. There were a few posters tacked to the walls, mostly sports related, a few of scantily clad women, and the yearâs OSU baseball schedule. He had a bookshelf against one wall, holding his textbooks and a staggering amount of baseball trophies. A framed team photo sat on one shelf, along with one of all the Sigs taken at the beginning of the semester.
âHaving fun?â Steve asked, making you jump slightly as you turned to look at him. He was sitting on his bed now, the shoebox open next to him. He was smiling at you as his fingers worked dexterously to roll the joint. âDidnât know you could be so nosy.â
You scoffed, but your cheeks felt a little hot. âShouldnât have stuff sitting out if you donât want people to look at it.â
He laughed. âYou can look at whatever you want.â He licked along the seam of the joint, perfectly rolled. âGo ahead and search the whole room, if you want. The porn mags are in that drawer.â He nodded towards his nightstand.
You scrunched your face up. âEw. Youâre so gross.â
Steve laughed again as he put his baggie of weed and papers back in the box, pushing it beneath his bed again. You took a seat on the plush carpet, back leaning against his dresser. He placed a muscular arm on the end of the bed frame and lowered himself to the floor to sit across from you.
âYou can do the honors if you want,â he offered, holding the joint out towards you.
There was a moment of hesitation before you reached forward, taking it from his fingers. âI donât understand why youâre being nice to me,â you said, brows furrowed even as you placed the joint between your lips, flicking the lighter and holding the flame to the end.
âIâm not being nice to you,â he said. He still had that same look he always had when he looked at you, like it was one of his lifeâs greatest joys to piss you off, to get you worked up and upset. âLike I said, youâre ruining my party. Canât have word spreading around campus that people are here looking bored. Sigs are the party kings of campus, and thatâs not changing, especially not with me in charge.â
âOh, right,â you said, exhaling that first cloud of smoke. âThe new ruler canât appear weak, and all that.â
âExactly,â he smirked. He watched you take another hit, then leaned forward, accepting the joint back from you and taking a long pull himself.
âI donât think anyone pays as much attention to me as you do, Steve,â you said. That warm feeling was starting to settle over you, and he was rightâyou were relaxing already. It was the first time youâd been in a room with him and didnât want to scream or punch him.
His gaze was heavy on you as he hit the joint, looking at you with that intensity he always seemed to hold when you were in a room together. But now it was making you fidget, the room suddenly feeling hot.
âWho says I pay attention to you?â he finally asked. His voice was lower now, and when he leaned forward to pass the joint back to you, your fingers brushed together. It sent a jolt through your body, and you jerked your hand back quickly, bringing it to your lips to give yourself time to think before you spoke again.
âItâs kind of obvious.â Smoke billowed from your lips as you responded. The room was growing thick with it, a haze surrounding you both in and outside of your head. âAlways staring at me, coming over just to annoy meâŚâ
âItâs fun,â he admitted, laughing softly. He ran a hand through his hair, starting to lose its shape and flop into his wide hazel eyes. âEvery time you get mad, you get that cute little furrow between your eyebrows, your lips get all pouty, and you roll your eyes about a million times.â
You pausedâand then giggled, leaning forward to pass the joint back. âSeriously? I told you, you pay attention to me.â
Your laughter was starting to get Steve going too. He took another pull. âI mean, I notice things that are nice to look at. Iâm only a man, after all.â
The laughter felt like something you could no longer control, bubbling up in your chest and filling Steveâs bedroom much like the smoke in the air. It was contagious, the two of you laughing together as you finished off the joint.
âYou know you always say the cheesiest stuff possible,â you giggled, your body fully relaxed into the floor at this point. Your limbs felt heavy in the best way, like every bit of tension in your muscles had faded. âItâs kind of amazing how everyone thinks youâre so cool, because youâre kind of a total dork.â
Steve laughed hard, his head tilting back. You couldnât help but notice the strong column of his throat, the way the muscles flexed in his neck and chest. âI have to get creative,â he said, fixing his eyes back on yours once again. âI aim to keep you entertained, after all.â
âI guess you do,â you smiled. âAnnoyed, yes. Bored? Never.â
He watched you for a minute, something thoughtful seeming to cross his face. Your eyes locked in that way they often did, just staring. Seeing each other. Steve always had a way of making you feel like he could see right through you, and it made you wonder if he felt the same about you, too.
The fact that you were enjoying Steveâs company seemed to strike you all at once. It was confusingâmaybe concerningâbut for now, you were too high to care. Heâd been right. This was what you needed.
Steve nudged your foot with his own. âIâve never seen you look so peaceful,â he grinned. âWho knew there was more to you than being stuck up andâŚsnobby.â
You snorted a laugh. âFuck you, Harrington.â
The grin on his face grew. âOh, would that help you relax some more?â he said, looking a little too proud of himself. âBecause Iâd be happy to help you with that, too.â
Your eyes widened, and Steve was pretty sure you were about to tell him off againâbut then you tossed your head back, laughing harder than heâd ever heard from you. âOh my god. In your dreams.â
Steve smirked, that same look youâd grown to know as cocky and insufferable, but right now, you didnât seem to mind it. It was endearing, almost. Handsome, maybe. âBaby, you let me fuck you, and youâll be dreaming about it for months.â
Itâs like everything he said, every stupid, corny line that would usually have you irritated, was suddenly the funniest thing youâd ever heard. âYou really think youâre godâs gift to women, huh?â
âI know I am.â He tilted his head to the side, body relaxed as he leaned back against his bed frame. âNever heard a single complaint.â
âThatâs because girls know how to fake it,â you mumbled. âGuys can never tell.â
âOh, I can tell.â His hands flexed where they rested on his thighs, the veins beneath his skin suddenly extremely distracting. âSome guys canât, sure. But I know the difference between some fake pornstar moans to boost some pathetic dudeâs ego, and how it really feels to make a girl fall apart.â
Your cheeks felt hot now. Your whole body did, even though your outfit didnât cover much skin. âYouâre not that good in bed.â
âHow would you know?â he asked, looking at you with genuine curiosity and something like delight.
âI can just tell,â you answered quickly, looking down at the soft beige carpet beneath your bare thighs. âGuys never care about making girls feel good. Just themselves.â Thatâs how it had been with every guy youâd ever slept with. Not a single one had been different.
âIâm not other guys,â Steve said, voice lower now. It made your breath hitch in your throat, slowly raising your head to look at him. He was still smiling at you, but there was something different behind his eyes now, something heavy and burning.
You returned his smile, laughing softly even as you felt your heart speed up in your chest. âYeah, well. I donât think any guy is different in that department.â
âYou wanna bet?â
That almost earned him another eye roll (playful this time, but still)âuntil he shifted, moving over to sit next to you. You tensed as you felt his shoulder brush against yours, feeling both electricity and heat even through the fabric of your clothes.
âSteveâŚâ
His large hand came up slowly. Now he was looking at you in a way youâd never seen from him before. The familiar cocky smirk was gone, his soft lips parted slightly as his eyes raked over every part of you like he wanted to memorize the way you looked right now. Your chest rose and fell with your heavy breaths, watching his intense gaze travel slowly, taking his time. From your eyes, to your lips, down your throat. Lower, to your chest, but not in the pervy way heâd done in the past. No, it wasnât thatâit wasâŚreverent. Like he was seeing something holy.
His hand finally moved, brushing your hair back softly. It made you draw in a sharp breath, chills spreading across the skin of your neck where heâd made contact.
âI like you like this,â he said, voice low and quiet. His eyes were locked on the side of your neck, where heâd just touched.
It took you a second to find your voice, although it came out more like a whisper. âLikeâŚwhat?â
âHappy,â he said. His gaze finally moved to your eyes. âComfortable. Real.â His eyes dropped to your lips. âYou know, youâre really pretty when you smile like that.â
You were pretty sure you had to be dreaming, because in no world were you sitting in Steveâs bedroom while he looked at you like that. Like he wanted to kiss you. Like he was actually moving in, leaning in slowly to close the distance as if giving you all the chance in the world to run awayâ
You didnât. Your eyes fell closed and then, with the force of a meteor crashing into the earth despite how soft and gentle it was, his lips met yours. His hand rested against the side of your neck while yours moved up to grip onto his bicep. He tilted his head slightly and your lips slotted together perfectly, moving together with a practiced kind of confidence and a sense of rightness you never should have felt with Steve Harrington ever.
There was no time to think with the way he was kissing you, slow and deep but utterly consuming. It was careful at first, exploratory. It felt so good, your lips moving with his like it was second nature. Steve was a good kisser. You knew he had plenty of experience, and itâs not like you didnât, but he was taking the lead and you were happy to let him.
His tongue traced along your bottom lip, and you parted your lips on instinct. His tongue met yours with a soft groan that had you digging your nails into his arm through the sleeve of his shirt, pulling him closer.
Steve laid you back on the soft carpet with way more care than youâd ever seen him show anything. He braced himself on a strong arm planted next to your head, never breaking the kiss for a single second. His body hovered over yours, one knee moving between your thighs where your skirt had fallen up around your waist, pressing against you through your panties. His free hand rested on your hip now, holding onto you. You let out a soft moan against his lips, delirious from every point of contact, rocking your hips down against his leg to feel that friction you craved so desperately.
He groaned, moving from your mouth to kiss across your jaw, down to your neck, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin, giving you chills. Your breaths were coming in hard and heavy now, holding onto his broad shoulders like a lifeline, eyes closed as you felt every sensation he provided.
âSo pretty,â he murmured against your neck, grinding his knee against you to meet every needy movement. He nipped lightly at the sensitive spot below your ear. You could feel his smirk against your skin when you gasped, hips bucking against him in response. It made no sense how he knew exactly what to do, like he somehow knew your body better than you did.
âSteveâŚâ you whimpered, the only word your brain could conjure.
âThatâs it, baby,â he said. His breath was hot against your skin, sucking at your neck, biting then soothing the sting with his tongue. âLet me hear you. Gonna make you feel so good.âÂ
The hand on your hip slowly slid up the smooth skin of your side, rucking your shirt up. You sat up long enough to help him pull it off completely, leaving you in the lacy bra you wore beneath. He wasted no time lowering his head to mouth at the top of your breasts, practically burying his face in them, kissing and sucking and biting at the exposed skin.
âAlways had the best fucking tits,â he moaned, losing himself in a way you could only describe as worshipful. He reached behind you to unhook your bra easily, pulling it away and tossing it to the side. He pulled back to look down at your body, the look in his eyes one of pure hunger. âActually insane fuckinâ pair, Jesus Christ.â
You laughed, because yeah, there was the Steve you knew. That laugh turned into a gasp, then a moan, when he leaned down and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples.
âFuck,â you gasped, hands shooting up to tangle in his hair. âOh my godââ
He swirled his tongue around the stiff peak, groaning as he sucked on it. He grabbed the other, massaging your breast in his large hand, slightly calloused from years of pitching. The friction on your sensitive, hardened nipple was maddening, back arching and pushing your tits further into his face.
He never let up with the movements against your soaked cunt, either, even as he switched back and forth between your tits. Your clit was swollen and throbbing and begging for more, and you were pretty sure your panties were utterly ruined. You could feel the pleasure building in your core with an intensity that felt like it would completely take your breath away.
Youâd never had a guy make you cum in your life, and now Steve Harrington was about to do it in five minutes, fully clothed, with his fucking thigh?
Steve could sense the tension coiling in your bodyâand he pulled away, taking away every delicious ounce of pleasure heâd been building.
Your eyes opened, still heavy lidded and hazy. âWhatâ?â
âMy bed,â he said, and you noticed he was breathing hard, too. âNot gonna fuck you for the first time on the floor.â
You didnât give yourself time to think about his words. He helped you up, then pulled you into another frantic kiss as you both shed clothes as fast as you could with your lips still attached, utterly desperate for each other.
Steveâs mattress creaked softly as you fell back onto it, now in nothing but your panties. You moved back towards his pillows, leaning up on your elbows as you watched him.
God, he looked good with his shirt off, you absolutely hated to admit. He had thick hair covering his chest, which was muscular and strong, but his stomach was still a little soft. His skin was sun-kissed, those moles dotting his body all over. The desire to kiss every single one of them surged suddenly within you, but you pushed the thought away. That wasâŚintimate.
His gaze remained heavy on you as he worked his belt open without drawing away his attention once. The way he looked at you was like a starving man preparing for a feast. Your thighs were slightly parted, and he didnât miss how damp your panties were. For him.
Finally down to his boxer briefs alone, you could see more of him than you ever had before. He was fully hard, the outline of his dick visible as it strained against the thin, snug material.
And the rumors were true.
âJesus,â you breathed. That cocky smirk returned to his face as he watched your wide-eyed stare. Truthfully, he was used to that reaction. âYouâreâŚâ
âI know, baby,â he purred, crawling onto the bed over you. He leaned down, peppering kisses along your legs as he moved higher along your body. âItâll fit. Iâll be careful. âm gonna take care of you like you deserve.â
It felt like you were melting into the soft sheets and comforter surrounding you. Steve was taking his time, placing hot, open mouthed kisses against your calf, his hand roaming up the other leg in time with his mouth. He rose higher, over your knee, up the inside of your thigh.
He laid on his stomach between your legs, kissing and nipping all along the sensitive skin of both inner thighs. Your legs trembled. The sight of him there, with his mouth all over you, was almost too overwhelming to even take in. Your head dropped against his pillows, just giving in to his every desire, your body coming alive with every touch. Trusting him.
âYouâre so wet for me,â he breathed in pure admiration. His nose nuzzled against your core through the thin material, and you drew in a sharp gasp. He looked up at you from between your legs, fingers moving to dip beneath the waistband of your panties. âHas anyone ever tasted you before?â
You froze as you realized what he was asking you, what he was planning to do. By the time you found your words, heâd already slipped the delicate material down and off your body. You shuddered as you felt his breath against your pussy, cool against the wetness there, for him.
âIââ You jolted when you felt him rub his nose against your folds, breathing in the intoxicating scent of you. Your whole body was flushed and hot. ââŚNo.â
Steve groaned. The idea of being the first to pleasure you like this had his cock throbbing between his body and the mattress. âFuckinâ idiots,â he grumbled, drinking in the sight of you for a little longer before he finally moved in, dragging his tongue against your cunt, moaning like heâd never tasted anything better. âYou have the perfect fuckinâ pussy. Tastes so sweet.â
Your hips jerked against his mouth, crying out at that first unfamiliar contact. You heard his low chuckle, but there was no humor behind it, just pure want. He dove in, devouring you properly.
The feeling of his tongue against you was more intense than youâd anticipated. Your fingers tangled in his perfect hair, making a mess of it, pulling just hard enough to earn a groan from his chest that vibrated against your clit. You were nearly seeing stars already, hips rocking up against his mouth as he flicked his tongue against the swollen nub, sucking gently before moving down to your hole. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was pulling you apart piece by piece until you could hardly stand it.
Youâd heard of this before, of course you had. Your sorority sisters had mentioned it a few times, and youâd seen it in that trashy porno you, Nancy, and Carol had spent the night giggling at after sharing a joint and some vodka crans. But you always thought of it as a myth. No man youâd ever been with had even offered, even if youâd gone down on him first. You figured it was something guys just didnât do, or at least something they didnât want to do.
Not Steve, apparently, because he was worshipping you like he could have spent hours with his face buried between your legs. His skilled tongue worked against you in all the right ways, moaning against you and grinding his hips against the bed, even harder if you tugged on his hair, which you were quickly learning he liked.
âSteveââ you gasped, body writhing and arching beneath him. âOh my god, Iâ-â
âThatâs it,â he praised, pulling away from you just long enough to speak, eyes glazed and lips and chin shining with your wetness, before diving in again. âDoing so good for me, sweetheart. Youâre so fucking hot.â
You whimpered when you felt his thick finger pressing against your entrance, moaning as he pushed inside while his mouth focused on your clit again. With how wet you were, he slid inside easily, fucking you before quickly adding a second finger. He curled them deep inside, pressing against something that nearly had you screaming his name loud enough for the whole party to hear.
âSteve!â you gasped, one hand still tangled in his hair while the other gripped onto the pillow, feeling like you would actually float away if you didnât hold on. The pleasure he was giving you was nearly overwhelming, your body beginning to tremble harder as that coil tightened again, faster and more intense this time. He slipped in a third, fucking you deep, stretching you around his thick fingers.
âGotta get you ready for me,â he panted, dragging his tongue through your folds one more time just to taste you. âFuck. Youâre so good, gonna take me so well, every fuckinâ inch, I know you will. Gonna stretch so perfectly around my cock.â
A whine crawled its way from your throat, hips rocking against his fingers as he fucked you deep with them, pressing against that bundle of nerves that had you losing your mind. âSteveâŚSteveâŚoh fuck, Iâmââ
He didnât let up with his fingers for a single second. But it was when he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking, while his fingers thrusted in hard and deep, that made it finally snap.
Your vision went white, your body tensing and mouth dropping open in a scream that was silent at first, before you let out what were probably the most pornstar-worthy sounds youâd ever made in your life. âSteve! Oh, fuck!â
Steve groaned at the sound, lapping up every bit of you, letting you grind your pussy against his tongue and working you through every shuddering aftershock until your body went limp beneath him. When he finally pulled back, you fully expected him to look up at you with that look he almost always wore, the one that made him look so proud of himself, so punchable. But instead he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before sucking his fingers clean greedily, looking down at your body with that same heated, wanting expression.
He sat up on his knees. You didnât think it was possible before but he was even harder now, a wet spot on his boxers at the tip of his cock where heâd been absolutely dripping for you. His thumbs hooked into the waistband, pushing down just enough for you to get a glimpse of the hair that disappeared below.
âYou ready for me?â he asked, voice a low rumble.
You let out a shaky breath, looking up at him with wide eyes. ââŚYeah.â
Steve smirked down at you and pushed the material down in one go. His cock sprung freeâand it was even more impressive than it looked before. He was thick and long, a slight right curve, vein prominent along the underside. His tip was flushed red like he was real desperate, and glistening from the precum heâd been leaking the whole time he was taking care of you. Another drop was beading at his slit. Youâd never had a man look like he wanted you this bad.
You knew you were staring, and Steve certainly saw it, too. âSee something you like, baby?â
You let out a breathless laugh, but truthfully, you were in no position to crack a joke or even deny it. You simply watched as he shed the last bit of clothing completely, leaving you both completely bare in his bed.
He leaned over you and reached to open the bedside drawer. There really were porn mags in there, which might have made you laugh if you couldnât feel that thick length twitching against your thigh. He grabbed a condom and shoved the drawer closed, sitting back up on his knees. He ripped the foil packet open with his teeth and rolled it onto his cock.
When he leaned over your body again, one arm braced near your shoulder and the other stroking his cock slowly, your heart began to pound fast. There was that brief moment of Iâm really doing this, right now, with him, but youâd never wanted anything more in your life.
Steve lined the head of his cock up with your entrance. You were still soaked, so he wasnât worried, but you were. Youâd heard rumors of how some girls couldnât even take him, only getting him halfway in before giving up and jerking him off instead. You hadnât believed them, because starting a rumor about the size of his dick was absolutely something you could see Steve doing. But now you were here in his bed, seeing firsthand that it was very true.
He traced his cock up and down through your folds, coating himself in that slick wetness, showing a surprising amount of care. He placed hot, gentle kisses along your jaw as he did, voice a soft, low rumble in your ear.
âIâll go slow,â he promised, lips brushing against your skin. âYou donât like it, we donât have to. But Iâve got you, baby. Youâre so good, I think you can take it.â
You could hear the need in his voice, how badly he needed you to let him fuck you. But you also knew he was true to his word.
But, god, you wanted to take all of him. To show him you could, to feel him buried deep. To make him fall apart.
Steve kissed his way back to your lips, kissing you slow and deep, tongue massaging against yours. You felt the sting of the thick head of his cock pushing inside you, and you let out a soft whimper into the kiss. He moaned against you and pushed in just a little deeper.
âThatâs it,â he whispered between kisses. He grabbed your thigh with his left hand now, spreading you wide for him. âDoinâ so good, baby, letting me in.â He rolled his hips in shallow thrusts, just that little bit inside of you, sinking in another inch with every slow, deliberate thrust, working you open.
Your nails dug into his shoulders, but he kept your attention on him, entirely on the way he was kissing you. You werenât sure why or how but it was working, his slow, languid kiss distracting you from the sharp sting where he was stretching you around the girth of him, coaxing your body to relax.
The feeling of being filled was like nothing else. Sure, youâd had plenty of sex, but Steve made you feel absolutely stuffed full before he was even completely inside. He held your thigh up, keeping you open for him, your flexibility not lost on him. He rolled his hips in a few more slow thrustsâand then you felt his hips pressed flush against you.
âChrist,â he breathed, pulling back just enough to lean his forehead against yours. âSo perfect, baby, you fuckinââtook it all, Jesusââ
Youâd never heard Steve sound so utterly wrecked. He rolled his hips against you a few times, just enjoying the feeling of being completely sheathed inside your tight heat. And fuck, you were stretched around him perfectly, tight and hot. You felt like absolute heaven around his cock.
His cock throbbed inside you, so hard you could feel it. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, palms rubbing over his hot skin, a thin sheen of sweat coating it from the sheer effort of holding back from pounding into you.
âSteve,â you whimpered. Your cunt fluttered around him, and he dropped his head to your shoulder with a broken moan.
âYeah?â he rasped. His hips rocked lightly against you, betraying his desperation.
âYou canâŚâ You gasped as the coarse hair at his base rubbed against your clit, still so sensitive but aching for him again. ââŚYou can move.â
Steve moaned again, placing a few hot kisses against your neck as if thanking you. Finally he pulled his hips back, slowly withdrawing almost fully. Only his tip remained, and you could have cried at the loss of that perfect full feeling. But then he sank back inâslow at first, filling you to the brim again. Your desperate sounds of pleasure mixed together in the hot, charged air of his bedroom, a symphony intertwined much like your bodies.
âShit,â he cursed. He set a careful rhythm, every thrust measured and slow and deep. âYouâre taking me so fucking good. Fuuuuck. That pussy is fucking unreal.â
You could barely think straight. Your entire world narrowed down to the feeling of Steve inside of you, stretching you open perfectly. The sting was still there, but it was quickly fading into pure ecstasy with every movement of his hips. Your body was adapting to him like it was made for it.
Hands tangled in his hair again, you pulled him down into another messy kiss, all tongue and desperation, sloppy and hungry and hot. He groaned loudly into it, hips rutting into you faster.
Whines and whimpers and keening moans were spilling from your lips with little control. Your hips moved in time with his thrusts, meeting him every time. His cock was deeper than you thought possible, brushing against that spot that quickly had you gasping and babbling complete nonsense.
âFeels so good Steve, oh fuck, oh god, please donât stop, donât fucking stop Iâm gonna cum again, Steve please, oh godâ!â
Every word that tumbled from your lips was like fuel to the fire of his intense need. He couldnât hold back anymore, couldnât worry about if he might hurt you, too lost in the feeling of your body wrapped around him. His hips rocked against yours in a frantic pace now, his breaths coming in ragged pants, eyes locked on the way your tits bounced with the force of his thrusts. You arched your back and he leaned down to wrap his lips around a nipple again, moaning as he laved his tongue over it, eyes closed and completely pussydrunk, all because of you.
He sucked hard on your nipple one more time before letting go with a wet pop and sitting up on his knees. He held onto your waist and used your body, pulling you down onto his cock with every rough snap of his hips. His eyes were locked on the sight, watching himself disappear into your perfect cunt, seeing you stretch around him, take him whole.
âHoly fuck,â he panted. The sight of the muscles in his arms and chest flexing as he took what he needed from you, watching you with such heat, made you feel utterly delirious. He looked powerful and strong, like an absolute god. âJesus. Look how you take me, baby, fuck. Knew youâd be good, butââ His hips stuttered, eyes rolling back for a second. ââshit, holy fuckââ
âBaby,â you gasped, grabbing onto the pillow above your head. Your cunt was tightening, throbbing around him, soaking his cock. The sound of him driving into you was loud and obsceneâthe slick, wet sounds, the sound of his skin slapping against yours. You might have felt a little self conscious if you could think about anything other than his cock coaxing that second orgasm from your trembling body. âI canâtâoh god, Steve, pleaseâŚâ
âYou can do it,â he was nearly begging now, his cock beginning to twitch within your tight walls, so close to his own end but determined to get you there first. âCome on, baby, give it to me. Let me feel it. Cum all over my cock, show me how good it feels, how much you like getting fucked by me.â
You turned your head, biting down on a pillow you held to your face in an effort to muffle the scream that ripped from your lungs. Your body arched, cunt clenching around him as wave after wave of overwhelming, perfect pleasure washed over you. Your ears were ringing, moaning and gasping and babbling his name again and again.
âShit!â Steve cursed, hips pounding into you reckless and fast. âThatâs it, god yeah, let me feel itâoh fuckâyouâre so good, so fucking good baby, letting me fuck you like this, squeezing around meâshitâoh baby, gonna make meâgonna make me fuckinâ cumââ
His body pitched forward over yours, bracing himself on an arm and burying his face in your neck. His cock buried deep in you, hips snapping in a few more frantic, shallow thrusts before he tensed, his groan muffled against your skin as he spilled into the condom, repeating your name over and over, body shaking with the intensity.
Your head was spinning. You could hear your heart beating in your ears. Steveâs body was heavy on top of you, your sweat-slicked skin pressed together, as he tried to catch his breath. It was a minute of heavy silence before he finally slid his softening cock out of you, collapsing onto his back.
The loss of that glorious full feeling was disappointing, to say the least. But as Steve removed the condom from his spent cock, tying it off and tossing it into his trash can, the moment finally, properly, broke.
And you realized you were naked in Steve Harringtonâs bed. That you had fucked him.
The effects of the weed seemed to have worn off, leaving you feeling suddenly cold and exposed and panicked. Even as you began to freak out more and more, Steve looked totally fine, laying back against the headboard with an arm behind his head. His chest still rose and fell with heavy breaths, skin still shining with sweat, but he looked satisfied. Proud of himself in that way that always pissed you off, but especially now.
âSo,â he said, and like so many times before, heâd ruined it all the moment he opened his mouth. âYou let me fuck you after all, huh?â
âJesus Christ,â you muttered, sitting up and reaching for your clothes. You felt like you couldnât stand to be exposed like this to him for another second, holding every article of clothing you grabbed to your chest until you found it all.
Steve laughed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He didnât seem to have any qualms about being totally naked in front of you, comfortable in his own skin the way he always was. âThose panties might be ruined. They were pretty soaked. You can leave them here with me, if you want.â He grinned wider. âIâll keep them safe. Wonât even wash âem.â
âYouâre a pig,â you spat back at him. He wasnât exactly wrong, though. You didnât want to put them back on, but you werenât about to walk out of this room wearing that tiny skirt with nothing underneath.
âBut was I right?â
âAbout what?â you asked as you hooked your bra, roughly pulling your shirt back on. The scowl on your face was a permanent fixture at this point, which was amusing to him.
âThat Iâm good?â he raised his eyebrows, and the grin on his face told you he knew the real answer no matter what you said in response.
âYou werenât that good,â you mumbled. You pulled your skirt back onto your hips, grabbing your shoes.
Steve laughed. âOh, come on. Thatâs not what you were saying when you were practically riding my face, or when you were cumming on my dick, begging me not to stop.â His words made your face burn, unable to even say something smart in return. âYou donât have to lie to me, baby. I was there.â
Fully dressed now, you moved to his dresser mirror, trying to fix your appearance. âDonât call me baby.â
He crossed his ankles, just watching you with that infuriating grin. He made no move to cover any part of his body, his cock laying against his thigh. It was huge even when he was soft, which you hated that you even noticed.Â
âAw, whyâre you so mad now?â The condescending tone in his voice made you shiver with the effort of not losing your absolute shit. âPersonally, I had fun. And I just gave you your first orgasm everââ
âNot my first orgasm.â
âSorry, your first orgasm that you didnât give yourself.â He tilted his head, smirking. You could feel his eyes all over your body, shameless. âTwo of them, actually. So really, you should probably be thanking me.â
You barked out a laugh as you wiped a lipstick smudge from the corner of your mouth. You turned around, noticing for the first time that some of it had transferred to his face. âIâm not thanking you for shit. This never shouldâve happened.â
Steve watched you head for the door. He had no intention of stopping you. Heâd never let a girl stay in his bed after sex, and he wasnât about to start now. He moved lazily even as he sat up and began to grab his own clothes.
âYou can pretend you didnât like it all you want, baby,â he said, not even looking at you anymore as he pulled his boxer briefs back onto his legs. âBut you and I both know what happened in here tonight, and I donât think youâll be forgetting it any time soon.â
You held back a frustrated scream as you walked out of his bedroom, slamming the door behind you. Thankfully the music was loud enough that it didnât draw any attention. You stomped down the hallway and down the stairs, back into the chaos that now felt suffocating and overwhelming in a way it never had before.
You found Nancy in the kitchen, laughing with some of the other sisters. When she spotted you her expression turned serious, saying something to the girls before walking straight to you.Â
âWhere did you go?â she asked, reaching for your arm. Her hand was a little cold and every touch to your skin right now felt like a scalding burn, but you didnât pull away. âIâve been looking for you for ages.â
âJust got wrapped up talking to some people,â you mumbled, unable to make eye contact with her. âIâm gonna head home, though.â
Nancyâs brows furrowed. âNow? Already? Itâs still pretty early.â
âI just donât feel good,â you said. All you really wanted was to get back to the safety of your own bedroom and freak out about this in private. âYou donât have to leave.â
âNo, donât be silly. Iâm going with you.â She drained the last of the contents of her cup and tossed it into the nearby trash can, intertwining her fingers with yours. âThis party kinda sucked tonight, anyway.â
You smiled at her, genuinely grateful. Nancy was your best friend for a reason, and you loved her. But you could never tell her what happened tonight.
As you walked hand in hand to the front door, you felt a creeping feeling up your spine. Just as Nancy turned the doorknob, opening the door and letting the cool September air inside, you looked back over your shoulder.
Steve leaned against the railing upstairs, watching you. When you locked eyes, he lifted a hand in a wave, smiling down at you.
You left the house, letting the door close hard behind you.
Steve was haunting you.
Not even in the way he always had, constantly in the same places, an unavoidable physical presence. No, this was worse. He was in your head now. And for the first time ever, you felt you had actually been lucky before.
The night after that first fateful mistake, youâd gotten back to the house, told Nancy you didnât feel good, and went straight to bed. You removed your clothes from the party, shoved that pair of panties straight in the trash. You didnât think you could ever look at them again.
Sleep didnât come easily. You laid in bed, thinking about Steve and what youâd done without a momentâs reprieve. It was miserable, but you figured it was normal. Something terrible had just happened after all; a horrible mistake had been made, so of course you were going to think about it. It would fade. You would feel better tomorrow.
The problem was that it never stopped.
You woke up thinking about Steve. Went to class thinking about him. Every time you saw him on campusâand he always saw you first, smirking at you and giving you that douchebag nod, or a casual wave that he knew was anything butâyou averted your eyes and headed quickly in the other direction.
If the fact that youâd done it at all didnât disgust you enough, it was nothing compared to the horrible truth. That youâd liked it. Loved it. Wanted more. He really was the best youâd ever had, and you didnât think heâd ever done a single thing that had pissed you off more than that.
Of all the guys youâd been with, guys who were plenty hot and popular and well liked, not a single one of them had ever cared about your pleasure in any way. They were only interested in getting themselves off. You were pretty sure they wouldnât have been able to find the clit if theyâd even bothered to try.
But Steve? He had absolutely rocked your world exactly like he promised. The only orgasms youâd ever experienced had been by your own hands, and you figured no one ever would or could know your body better than you did. How did he know the exact right places to touch, the right things to do? Every girl was different, right? Did he have some kind of stupid fucking superpower?
He had you completely spiraling. You felt like you were losing your mind. Even Nancy and Carol and the other girls noticed there was something up with you. Nancy was the only one who asked, but you quickly made up some excuse about being stressed over classes and homecoming. Tommy was still doing everything in his power to win you over, but there was only one Sigma Chi member on your mind at all hours, day and night.
You laid in bed at night with the memory haunting you. His mouth, his tongue, his fingers, his stupidly huge dick that he knew exactly how to use, that heâd taken so much care with so he wouldnât hurt you. How hard youâd cum when he went down on you, the way he made you cum again with nothing but his cock. The memories replayed through your mind nonstop until the ache between your thighs became unbearable and you couldnât help it anymore, your hand slipping beneath your shorts and panties and burying your moans in your fist until you came moaning his name, picturing his face the way he looked staring up at you from between your legs.
That was the worst of it, the guilt and confusion and disappointment you felt when it was over. When you were laying there in the quiet dark of your bedroom, realizing that you were really, truly fucked.
You wanted Steve. You wanted him bad. And you didnât think you could keep lying to yourself.
By the time the next party came around, you were done even trying to pretend.
You spent a little extra time getting ready in your bedroom, picking out a cute little dress after trying on nearly everything in your closet. It was form fitting, short, and a bit revealing. You knew it would catch his attention. You honestly werenât sure why you were even trying, since youâd never had to try to get him to notice you before, even when you desperately didnât want him to.
When you met Nancy and Carol in the front room, their eyes widened at the sight of you. âWoah. Thatâs the slut dress,â Carol remarked right away.
It made you laugh even as your skin flushed with embarrassment. It was true. This dress rarely ever came out, and when it did it was because you were going on a date you really wanted to end happilyâhence the nickname your friends had dubbed it with.
âIs there something you wanna tell us?â Nancy asked, her brows raised. âI mean, you look great, butâŚwhoâs it for?â
The question made you freeze for a moment, even though you shouldâve known theyâd ask. Of course they would. But you recovered quickly, making up a lie on the spot that you prayed sounded believable. âNo one in particular. JustâŚhoping to catch the attention of someone interesting, at least.â
That seemed good enough for Carol, who turned away and started digging through her purse to make sure sheâd packed her lipstick, but Nancy watched you a little longer. She was always so analytical with everything, and as your best friend, she knew you too well for you to get away with lying to her about much. And you hated lying to Nancy, you really did, but how would you explain this?
The three of you left Delta Gamma as a unit, arms linked together. The walk to the Sigma Chi house wasnât far, and it was a chilly evening, but nothing too bad. The bare skin of your thighs felt the sting of the cold the most, but before you knew it you were walking in the front door, the packed frat house instantly hot enough to make you grateful for the amount of skin you had showing.
For the first time, you were grateful to be separated from your girls so quickly. And, equally as unusual in this alternate dimension youâd somehow stepped intoâyou wanted to find Steve. Your eyes scanned each room for him, ears focused on listening for his voice. Something you couldnât explain led you to the backyard, a place you didnât often venture here.
The hot tub was on, and overcrowded. Some of the guys were in with a handful of girls, most sitting in someoneâs lap. A larger crowd just hung out on the back deck, some even into the yard beneath the lights. You heard the sound of his laughter quickly, turning your head to the left at the exact time he looked in your direction.
And god, you hated to admit it, but he looked good. His hair was once again perfectly styled, and he wore a long sleeve dark green shirt with a pair of jeans that he woreâŚreally, really well. They were tight, perfectly fitted, and you didnât know how youâd never known about his size when he wore pants like that. His ass looked great, too.
Fuck.
You locked eyes with him. He held your gaze for a minute, smirk on his face even as he kept talking to his friends. Then, for the first time everâhe turned away. Going right back to his conversation as if youâd never even been there at all.
You were stunned.
Never in the history of your time at OSU had Steve seen you and not immediately approached to piss you off. He had never dismissed you like that. If the rage hadnât already been boiling in your blood, it certainly was now.
You scoffed, turning around and walking back into the house. If he was expecting you to come to him, it wasnât gonna happen. It had never happened that way before and wasnât going to start now. Instead you pushed your way to the kitchen, heading straight to pour yourself a drink.
Just as you were reaching for one of the red plastic cups, another hand came around your shoulder and grabbed it before you could. You turned around, more confused than angry, to see Tommy Hagan standing right behind you, a warm smile on his freckled face.
âSorry,â he said sheepishly, looking like he just realized how awkward of a move it was. âI justâcan I get you a drink?â
You paused for a second. âUmâŚyeah, sure. Thanks.â
âNo problem,â he said, his expression becoming a little more comfortable at your acceptance. He moved around to the counter that held a keg and multiple bottles of liquor. It was surrounded by people, as it always was, but they moved for Tommy out of respect in the same way they did for Steve. âWhatâre you drinking?â
You scanned the selectionâthere was a bit of everything. Sigma Chi took pride in keeping the alcohol flowing at every party. âTequila?â
âYou got it.â Tommy grinned. He filled the red cup from the keg and passed it back to you, then reached for the bottle of tequila, pouring two shots. He handed one to you and held the other out in a toast.
You smiled softly as you gently tapped your cup against his, then brought it to your lips, downing the burning liquid with ease. Tommy laughed when you scrunched your face up in disgust for a second.
âYouâd think Harrington would splurge for the good shit,â Tommy said, leaning back against the counter as he looked at you. âI guess I canât complain about free alcohol, though.â
âTrue,â you smiled, even though you really didnât want to talk or think about Steve anymore, especially right now. âThanks. Again. For the drinks.â You held your beer up towards him before taking a sip.
âNo problem,â he said, a soft blush touching his pale skin. âPretty girls shouldnât have to pour their own drinks.â
Even though you didnât like Tommy as more than a friend, he really was sweet, and his attention made you feel good. Special. âWhat would I ever do without you, Tommy?â
He laughed, looking down at his shoes for a moment. âHey,â he said, meeting your eyes again. âI was just thinkingâŚif youâd maybe want to go out? MaybeâŚMonday?â
Your eyes widened. You hadnât actually expected him to ask you on a date. Your lips parted, closed, then opened again, but you couldnât figure out the right words to say.
âNothing serious,â Tommy said quickly, noticing your hesitation. âIt doesnât have to beâŚyâknow. I just thought we could maybe get some food, talk about homecomingâŚâ His soft smile returned. ââŚand, you know, Iâd really like to take you out.â
It was hard not to soften around him, especially with the way he spoke to you. Every Sig was great at turning on the charm, but there was something about Tommy that felt so genuine. And would it really be so bad to go out with him? âSure. That sounds good. My last class ends at 4?â
âGreat,â he said, the words leaving him in a breath of relief. âYeah, awesome. I can pick you up from DG? LikeâŚ6?â
âThatâs perfect,â you nodded. You drank from your beer again just as another Sig walked up to TommyâBilly Hargrove. You hadnât spoken to him much yourself, but he was nice to look at for sure. You knew a few of your sorority sisters had been out with him, and he had a bit of a reputation for being a ladies man. He had a gorgeous smile, tan skin, blue eyes, and dirty blonde hair that hung to his shoulders in soft, beautiful curls.
âHagan,â Billy said, clapping a hand on the other boyâs shoulder. He looked like he was about to say something else, but then his eyes landed on you. âWell. You didnât tell me you were busy entertaining DGâs most beautiful.â
Even though all these frat guys pulled the same cheesy lines, you still felt the heat rise to your skin. âHi, Billy.â
âHi, gorgeous.â He smiled down at you, showing off the dimple in his cheek. Something about it brought out the âsmiling shyly, twirling your hair around your fingerâ, teenage girl-type feeling buried deep within you. Tommyâs confident smile had dropped, now shifting awkwardly on his feet.
âUh, whatâs up, Hargrove?â Tommy asked, trying his best to look unbothered.
Billy glanced at him for just a second before those clear blue eyes found you again. âNo rush, Hagan. What, donât wanna share her attention?â His smile was bright and friendly, the kind that would have any girlâs heart beating fast.
âItâs notââ Tommy sighed, leaning back against the counter.
âWe were just talking,â you said, glancing between the two boys. There was an unspoken tension there, but you didnât dwell on it. âHowâs basketball?â
Billyâs smile grew. âItâs great. Weâve started conditioning. Right, Tommy?â he asked, turning around to look at his friend for only a moment, a weak attempt at acting like he had any intent to bring him into the conversation. âYou should come to some of our games this season. I think I play better when thereâs a pretty girl cheering for me.â
You laughed, the sound light and airy and genuine. âIs that right?â
Billy shrugged. âCould be just a theory, but why take the risk? Wouldnât be very good for school spirit if we didnât do everything possible to make sure we take home that championship, right?â
You rolled your eyes lightly as you laughed again, but it was more amusement than irritationânot like with certain people. âI guess thatâs true. We should all do our part.â
âExactly.â He smirked. âAnd maybe I can come watch you run some time. See that record-breaking sprinter Iâve heard so much about in action.â
You werenât sure why exactly, but it surprised you that he knew anything about your athletic achievements. It was talked about on campusâthe school loved to celebrate their top athletesâbut itâs not like most of the school cared about track and field the way they did about other sports. You were no Steve Harrington, star pitcher. âYeah, that would be cool. Iâd like that.â
âIâve heard youâre good. Like, insanely fast.â He leaned against the counter next to Tommy with an instinctual swagger, exuding the confidence that came so naturally to him. âAnd, uhâŚlong jump?â
âHigh jump,â you corrected, hiding your shy smile behind your cup as you sipped your beer again. âBut, yeah. Iâd love for you to come watch.â
âMaybe Iâll call you sometime.â Billy winked at you before finally acknowledging Tommy again. âHagan. Weâre waiting for you out back.â He looked back at you. âSorry, came over here to grab him and didnât expect to getâŚdistracted.â
âGo do your thing,â you said, waving your hand in some kind of vague gesture. You were starting to feel a slight buzz, at least. âHave fun. Donât let me hold you up.â
âIâll see you around,â Billy said with one last flash of that charming smile. When he looked back at Tommy, his expression was more serious, nodding his head towards the back in a silent command that didnât seem to have any other option.
Tommy smiled at you, but it was more forced, the comfort from before long gone. âIâll see you Monday,â he said. âIt wasâŚgood to talk to you. I hope you have fun the rest of the night.â
âBye,â you said softly, but he was already gone. You watched him trailing after Billy towards the back door, where Steve and some of the other guys waited, a cheer erupting as soon as they walked out the door. Frat boys.
Left on your own again, you tried to enjoy yourself. Bouncing around the house, talking with people you knew from around campus, from sports, from Greek life. Still, you couldnât shake the thought of Steve from your head. You knew what youâd come here to do, and even though you hated yourself for it, you hadnât changed your mind. You didnât think you could.
You saw him again a few times. Through the back door, in the living room, passing him in the hallway on the way to the bathroom, where he bumped into your shoulder and turned around long enough to smirk at you before walking on like it was nothing. Every time you saw him he saw you too, but he didnât approach you once. It had you fuming.
A few hours into the party, unfortunately, you were getting desperate.
When you walked into the kitchen for another refill, you saw him again. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest with one hand holding his cup, talking to some girl you couldnât name. You werenât jealousâyou were not jealousâbut it just made you even angrier. Especially when he glanced at you for just a moment before turning back to her.
This was humiliating. It was demeaning. You hated it. You hated him. But you swallowed your pride, took a deep breath, and walked over to them anyway.
Steve looked at you again, and grinned wide, his eyes lighting up with an infuriating delight as he realized you were coming over. The girl by his side gave you a dirty look as soon as she noticed, but Steveâs attention was now entirely on you.
He said your name, a simple acknowledgement. âHow are you enjoying the party?â He tilted his head to the side, his expression smug. He knew exactly what game heâd been playing all night, and he also knew heâd just won.
âItâs great,â you said, your deadpan voice doing nothing to hide your irritation.
âGood. I pride myself on my hospitality.â You didnât think youâd ever seen Steve not looking proud of himself, but he certainly did right now. âDid you need something?â
You glared at him, biting the inside of your cheek as you refused to back down from the eye contact he was holding. The girl next to him looked between you. âI wasâŚwondering if you had any more of thatâŚweed.â
The grin that spread across his face was nothing short of euphoric. His hazel eyes seemed to shine with it. The girl next to him might as well have no longer existed. âActually, you know, I might have a little more. Iâd have to check.â
Your jaw clenched, looking off to the side before meeting his eyes again. Your whole body buzzed like a live wire. When he didnât make a move, just kept looking at you, you raised your eyebrows at him expectantly. âWell?â
Steve laughed. âNow, huh?â He downed the rest of his beer and turned to the side, dropping the cup in the trash. You were momentarily stunned when he grabbed yours from your hand, too, doing the same. âWell, if itâs that urgent. Come on, weâll go look.â
He pushed off the wall, walking in the direction of the staircase. He didnât give the girl heâd been talking to another word or look, but she was certainly glowering at you when you glanced one last time before following after him. You felt ashamed, trailing behind exactly like he wanted you to. But worse than that was the relief.
Still, as you walked up the stairs behind Steve, you looked around to make sure no one was watching. Youâd survived the first hookup without rumors starting, but you knew you had to be careful. If there was one student on this campus everyone paid attention to, it was Steve Harrington.
Even worse than some random students seeing and whispering would be Nancy or Carol. You didnât want to have to even begin to figure out how to explain this to them. It was humiliating enough doing it, confusing even trying to justify it to yourself.
Steve led the way into his bedroom, although youâd dreamed about the same path so many times over the past week, you could have walked yourself there with your eyes closed. His room was still tidy, and the scent of the cologne he was wearing now permeated the air. All his usual hair products sat out on his dresser, and you could practically see the ghost of him there getting ready before leaving for the party downstairs, not putting it away.
He closed the door behind you, the sound of the lock clicking into place like a bomb in the silence. You turned around to face him. You hadnât really thought this far ahead.
âSoâŚâ Steve began, walking over to you slowly. You felt like a rabbit that had run right into his trapâwillingly. âDid you really want that weed? Or did you come back for something else?â
You gritted your teeth, fists clenching and unclenching at your side. Drawing in a deep breath, you tried to relax your muscles, your entire body tense. âIâŚâ
Steve was still smiling at you as he approached. He knew you werenât going to say it, but he had already won. Youâd come. His hand came up to rest on your cheek, and you found yourself relishing in the warmth of his palm rather than flinching away.
âYou donât have to say it if you donât want to,â he murmured, his voice low. No bravado, soft, meant only for you. His eyes were locked on yours. âI know what you need, baby.â His thumb stroked your cheek, then moved to rub slowly over your bottom lip. Your breath hitched, but you couldnât break the intense eye contact if you tried. âHave you been dreaming about it?â
You didnât know what to say. Your brain was short circuiting. Your hands hung loosely by your side, eyes wide, as he looked at you with pure heat. Goosebumps covered your skin, breath coming in strained.
âI already know,â he continued when you said nothing. His words were a low purr, a sound that had you hypnotized. You didnât even react when he pulled down slightly on your bottom lip and slipped his thumb inside, pressing down against your tongue. âYouâd never been fucked like that in your life. Youâve been thinking about it. Trying to recreate it with your own hand, getting off to the memory.â
Body on autopilot, you closed your lips around his thumb. Your eyes never left each othersâ as you ran your tongue over the calloused pad of his finger, sucking on it. For all he tried to act unaffected and in control, you saw the shudder that wracked through him. You didnât have to look to know he was hard already.
When he pulled his hand away, the trance was broken. But still, you both stood there, just looking at each other. The whole room felt charged with electricity, the air around you heavy enough to feel like a physical, oppressive weight.
Your lips crashed together in a kiss both hungry and frantic. It wasnât slow and romantic, not this time. Steveâs hands dug into your waist, pulling you close, the kiss all tongue and teeth and messy desperation. He groaned into your mouth, and when he pulled your hips into his, you could feel the hard proof of what youâd already known.
He pulled back to pull his shirt over his head, your eyes drinking in the exposed skin shamelessly. He was breathing hard, eyes glazed over with unfiltered want. Shoes were kicked off, Steveâs jeans hit the floor, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you with ease and laying you on his bed.
âYou wore this little thing for me?â Steve whispered in your ear as he settled over you. His lips attacked your neck, sucking at that spot he remembered was so sensitive. You wouldnât be surprised if he left marks, but you couldnât think straight long enough to care.
âNo.â The denial was weak, even you knew that. You had watched him all night, approached him yourself after sucking up your pride, and now you were beneath him on his bed. But, fuck, hadnât you given him enough satisfaction tonight?
âNo?â He chuckled darkly against the hot skin of your neck. He didnât believe you for a second. He was rolling his hips against you, the straining in his boxer briefs rock hard where it pressed against your dripping core. âThatâs a shame, baby. It looks so good on you.â
The little whimper that escaped when he bit down on the skin beneath your ear would have been embarrassing if you were able to even process it. You arched your back beneath him, pressing your tits against his chest. Your nipples were hard through the thin material of your dressâa bra didnât work with it, so youâd gone withoutâand the feeling of friction against them had a breathy noise falling from your lips.
Steve moved down your body, pushing your dress up roughly until it was up around your waist. He lowered himself between your thighs, pressing his nose against your already soaked panties, letting out a low, primal groan. âGod, youâre so fucking sweet,â he growled. Unable to wait any longer, he hooked his fingers into the waist of your panties and pulled them off.
âSteveââ you said in a voice that sounded more like a squeak than anything, spreading your legs for him, breathing hard. His big hands slid up your smooth thighs, opening them wider for him. His nose brushed lightly against your folds, making you draw in a sharp breath.
âYeah, baby?â he murmured. He was looking at your cunt like he wanted this as badly as you didâmaybe more. âWhat do you want?â
âJust do it,â you whined, your body writhing against his sheets with the overwhelming need. âPlease, justâŚâ
âWhat do you want me to do?â He was looking up at you now, smirking, even as his mouth was hovering an inch from where you needed him more than anything. âYouâve gotta tell me, sweetheart. I canât read your mind.â
You groaned, eyes opening as you looked down at him. âYou are such a fucking asshole.â
His big eyes widened with feigned innocence. âWhat?â You could feel his breath ghosting over your pussy, so wet for him, and it had you trembling. You couldnât take much more of this and he knew it.
âStop trying to make me say it,â you grumbled. You pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes.
âNot trying to make you do anything,â he hummed. He moved his head, nose brushing against your clit and making your breath catch. âI just donât know how Iâm supposed to know what you want me to do if you donât tell me, and, yâknow, Iâd never want to do anything you didnât wantââ
âOh my god, Steve,â you huffed, hands running through your hair where you laid against his mattress. âAre you gonna keep running your mouth all night or put it to good use again?â
Steve laughed genuinely, eyes sparkling with amusement. âYouâre so feisty. I always liked that about you.â
Before you could complain anymore, he buried his face against your pussy, diving in like it had been killing him to hold himself back, too. You cried out, loud, a hand moving to slap over your mouth a second too late. You could feel his lips curling in a smile against you.
He was good, so good, you didnât have to have any prior experience to know that. It was no wonder he had girls lining up to get in his bed. You couldnât keep yourself quiet, his tongue fucking inside of you, drinking in all the sweetness you dripped for him, rolling his tongue over your clit. It felt like he was everywhere at once.
âSteve, fuck!â you cried, gasping and clutching onto the pillows behind your head. âOh my god, fuck, how are youâoh fuckââ
He groaned against your cunt, the vibrations going straight through your clit and to every nerve ending in your body. He flicked his tongue over the swollen bud, wrapping his lips around it and sucking as he sunk two fingers into your fluttering hole.
âGod!â you choked. Your thighs were trembling around his head already. Your hand moved down to card through his hair before gripping onto the soft strands for dear life, pulling another moan from him when your fingers tightened in them.
Steveâs fingers fucked into you, nice and slow at first, slipping in a third finger before curling deep to hit that perfect spot. He was getting you ready for his cock again, your heart beating out of your chest at the thought alone. You could see it when you closed your eyes, just as you had for the past week, and it had you growing even wetter for him.
âSteveâŚâ you whined, your hips starting to grind against his face. He let you, moaning and working you even harder, begging for it without any words. âIâm gonnaâŚâ
âGive it to me,â he rasped, pulling away just long enough to say the words before his mouth was right back against you, delving his tongue between your folds and focusing on your clit while his fingers worked you open.
Stars exploded behind your vision. Unable to hold it back, you cried out, mindlessly babbling combinations of his name and curses and desperate pleas of donât stop donât stop oh please fuck god donât stopâ
Steve worked you through every last aftershock, playing your body like an instrument he knew wholly, intimately. Your body was still shaking when he pulled away. The sight of him looking down at you like that, with his lips and chin glistening with your release, made you whimper. God, why did he have to look like that?
âSo fucking good,â he said, eyes dark and awed. His cock strained hard against his boxers. You could see it twitching through the material, throbbing visibly.
His hands slid up your body, looking at you with a deep reverence as he slid the dress up until it was over your head, tossing it to his floor. His eyes raked over your naked body, every inch of it, the smooth skin and the way your chest rose and fell, how wide your eyes were looking up at him, your pretty lips parted.
âI thought about you, too,â he whispered, lips ghosting over your cheek, back to your ear. âThought about how you tasted. How tight you felt around me. The way you said my name. The noises you madeâŚgod, I came so fucking hard playing those noises over and over in my head.â
You gasped, the throbbing between your legs starting up again at his words. Youâd had no idea. Why would he be thinking of you when he could have any girl at this whole school? He wasnât just saying it. The unfiltered heat in his voice made that clear.
Steve lifted off of you slowly, eyes staying on you until he turned away to open his bedside drawer and grab one of those foil packets he seemed to have an endless supply of. He pushed his boxers down, flushed cock springing free, and kicked the last bit of clothing off the bed with the rest.
You watched him rip the foil open and roll it onto his (impressive, huge, perfect, achingly hard) cock, your pussy clenching around nothing, your body itself begging for him. He settled between your legs, wrapping his big hands around your thighs, opening you wide.
âDreamed about this pussy,â he mumbled, wrapping a hand around his shaft and dragging his tip through your soaked folds. He pressed the thick head against your hole, pressing forward just slightly, just feeling you. You whined, rocking your hips down, begging for him inside. He smirked as he noticed, but didnât push in yet. His expression was almost dreamy, pupils blown. âBest pussy I ever had. Fuck. Never came so fucking hard as I did inside you.â
âSteveâŚâ you breathed, the word itself a plea.
âTell me,â he breathed. It wasnât a tease anymore. The need in his voice was staggering. He was begging. âPlease, baby. Need to hear you say it.â
The sight of Steve, utterly wrecked like this, was almost too much to bear. You didnât have it in you to refuse, not anymore. âPlease,â you keened. âGod, Steve, please fuck me.â
His eyes fluttered closed and he let out a ragged groan, even before he finally rolled his hips forward, piercing you with that perfect, thick cock. You nearly sobbed in pleasure as you felt it, that overwhelming fullness as he sank into you inch by inch. It was easier this time but still a stretch, still that distant sting until his hips pressed flush against you.
âChristââ Steve choked, falling forward on his hands, planting them on either side of your shoulders. âOh, fuck.â
You rocked your hips up against him, telling him it was okay to move. Begging him to move. âOh my god,â you moaned. Your walls throbbed around him, which was undoing him way faster than heâd care to admit.
He pulled his hips back before sinking back in. Starting slow, as if he were still trying to be careful with his last shred of restraint. It didnât last long. The perfect clench of your heat around him was driving him mad, his thrusts quickly working up into a punishing rhythm.
Your name left his lips in a shuddering breath, his forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder. The sound of his skin meeting yours filled the room, your cunt so slick and wet around him you could hear it every time he drove in. He fucked you harder than he had last time, something you didnât even know youâd craved until you had it.
âSo fuckingâgodâyou feel so fucking good,â he grunted, his body slick with sweat where it was pressed against yours. You hooked a leg around his waist as he reached down with one hand to grab your thigh and press it up against your chest.
The angle was devastating, his cock hitting deeper inside of you than you thought possible. Your eyes rolled back as he punched soft, mindless little âah ah ahâs from your lungs with every thrust.
âYouâre so fucking tight,â he gritted out through clenched teeth. His eyes squeezed shut, sweat beading on his forehead with the effort of how hard he fucked you. The headboard knocked against the wall, chipping the paint from the force of it, the sound unmistakable for anyone who happened to walk by. âGonna make me cum so fucking hard again. Fuck. Oh, fuck, baby, youâre so perfect, so goddamnâoh shitââ
You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling on it the way you now knew he liked. The desperate groan he let out was muffled as you pulled him down to your lips, his tongue immediately licking into your mouth. The kiss was utterly filthy, saliva dripping down the side of your mouthâyours, his, both.
The whines he was letting out were growing higher, needier. All signs of that cocky, insufferable personality were gone, nothing but pleasure and desire coursing through him. His fingers dug bruises into your thigh as he snapped his hips forward harder, and oh fuck, he was hitting that spot againâ
âSteve!â you gasped, head tossing back against the pillows. Steveâs lips moved down the exposed column of your throat, placing hot, wet kisses everywhere he could reach. âOh, fuck, Steve, Iâm gonna fucking cumââ
âPlease,â he begged, his voice a ragged growl against your throat. âLet me feel you. Squeeze my cock, milk me fuckinâ dry, please.â
That coil snapped again, hard, the moan it forced from you more like a scream. It was loud, you knew it was loud, but you couldnât help it, completely delirious with the intensity of the pleasure. Your back arched beneath him, moaning and crying out and calling his name again and again.
Steve let out a choked noise at the feeling of you tightening around him, clenching and throbbing hard. His hips rutted into you with a desperate, frantic intensity, rhythm completely gone as he chased his own orgasm. He was right behind you, only a couple more shallow thrusts until he was stilling as deep inside you as possible. He groaned roughly, his head dropping to bury his face right between your tits as his body shuddered with release. You could feel him pulsing inside you even through the condom.
The room calmed, your heavy breathing the only sounds remaining. His weight was heavy over you, but you didnât mind. You didnât exactly want him to move, at least not yet. In the quiet aftermath, you relished in the feeling of him, his cock still throbbing inside as he slowly softened.
When he finally mustered up the energy to move he lifted off of you, pulling out and removing the condom, tossing it in the trash. You couldnât bring yourself to look and see if there was proof of him having any other girls in here since youâd been with him. You didnât know why you cared.
Steve sat on the edge of the bed, his arms resting on his knees. He was still catching his breath as you sat up, reality beginning to creep back in like unforgiving daylight after the safety of the night.
He turned his head to look at you, lips curling into a smile again. His skin still glistened with sweat. âWas it as good as the first time?â He asked, once again breaking the spell with his big mouth. âWhat you were hoping for when you showed up here tonight, dressed like that?â
You scoffed, sliding off the bed to collect your clothes again. Now that youâd gotten what youâd been craving, the desperation that had been clouding your brain was gone. That familiar shame was crawling over you again.
âWhat?â he laughed. âYou can say it, yâknow. Doesnât mean you have to like me just because you like fucking me.â
You hesitated for a moment, then moved again, pulling your panties back over your legs. âDonât.â
âCome on, baby,â he goaded, leaning back on the bed. He watched you, propped up on one arm, once again unbothered by being completely exposed to you. âWould it really be so bad to admit it?â
You didnât look at him, but you could feel his eyes staring at your ass as you pulled your panties back on. âFine,â you finally huffed, turning around. You clutched your dress in your hands, nearly throwing it at him when he didnât even try to hide the way his gaze dropped down to your tits. âYouâre good. It was amazing. Is that what you want to hear?â
He grinned. âI just wanted to hear the truth.â He shrugged playfully. âI mean, I already knew, just wanted to hear you admit it. Not for me, but for yourself.â
âArenât you altruistic,â you muttered, pulling the dress back over your head. The way his brow furrowed for a moment showed he didnât know what the word meant, but he didnât press.
Finally he sat up, beginning to replace his own clothes. âItâs okay that you canât stay away. I get it. Itâs good sex.â
âI can stay awayââ
âSure,â he interrupted, lifting his hips to get his boxers back on. âBut you donât want to, right?â
You paused. You hadnât let yourself think about that. If it was okay to let yourself want this. Just because you hated Steve so bad, because you didnât want anyone to know this was happening. But did that make it bad? Did it make you wrong? Weak, like youâd felt all week, and especially tonight?
Maybe he was right. It was good sex.
After buttoning his jeans, Steve stood to face you. He ran a hand through his hair, looking in the mirror behind you for just a second before focusing back on you. âLook,â he started, but it was hard to pay attention when he was standing there shirtless like that. âI think we could help each other.â
You forced your eyes back up to his face, the smirk sitting there evidence that heâd seen you staring. âHelp each other?â
He walked over to you, hands resting on your hips again. You didnât push him away, holding his gaze. âYeah. Help each other. I told you I liked it too, didnât I?â
You werenât sure what to say. Youâd heard him say it, when he was buried inside you, moaning your name, but you figured it was justâŚtalk. Heat of the moment. Nothing real. Nothing you said or felt when you were fucking was real.
Your lack of a response didnât deter him. His fingers flexed on your hips, but he didnât pull you closer. âWe could make this a casual thing,â he offered, finally putting the words out there. âYou like it, I like it. Why not keep having fun together?â
You turned his words over and over in your head. It felt like far more than the seconds it actually took as you thought over his proposition. What it meant, what it changed, how it felt.
But the memory of the past week played through your mind on repeat. How miserable youâd been, the way you couldnât get him out of your head. That he was right, the sex had been so good youâd craved it day and night, and the second time had been just as good, if not better.
Steve waited patiently, but he knew your answer before you finally forced it out. ââŚOkay. Yeah. I guess.â
He grinned, squeezing your hips one more time before moving back. âOkay then. Good.â
âBut we keep this between us,â you added quickly. âIâm serious. Just us. You donât tell your friends and I wonât tell mine.â
He looked amused, but he didnât argue. âWhat kind of guy do you think I am?â
You stared at him. âSteve.â
âOkay,â he laughed, pulling his shirt back on. âI wonât tell a soul. You have my word.â
You let out a sigh, both relief and anxiety at once. Turning to his mirror, you fixed your hair, cleaning up your smudged makeup. âIt means nothing, and no one knows.â
The heat of his body suddenly behind you made you jump. But he just stood next to you, fixing his own appearance.
âIt means nothing,â he repeated. âAnd no one knows.â
part two soooooon
as always, comments and reblogs are so appreciated!
Summary: Steve insists he does NOT want a cat. Steve is later discovered asleep holding the cat like a baby.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, minors DNI, no use of y/n, established relationship, fluff, cat adoption, domestic intimacy, steve harrington vs his own feelings, comfort fic (lmk if i missed anything)
W/C: 1k
Read more of my writing here: [masterlist]
The first time you suggest getting a cat, Steve reacts like you've brought a live grenade into the apartment.
"No."
You glance up from the leaflet in your hands.
"No?"
"No."
"That's your entire argument?"
"Yes."
Steve doesn't even look away from the basketball game he's pretending to watch.
"A cat is a terrible idea."
"Why?"
"They shed."
"So do you."
"I do not."
You stare pointedly at the dark hairs currently scattered across the shoulders of his t-shirt. Steve follows your gaze, immediately realises his mistake, and sighs.
"...that's different."
"It literally isn't."
"It is."
You grin.
Steve narrows his eyes immediately.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Decide you've already won."
"I haven't won."
"You have that face."
"What face?"
"That face."
You smile wider as Steve groans.
Because unfortunately for him, you've already started looking at shelters.
The second time the topic comes up, Robin is present, which is ultimately Steve's downfall because Robin immediately takes your side.
"A cat is objectively a great idea."
"Thank you."
"It is not."
"It absolutely is."
Steve looks personally betrayed.
"You've known me for seven years."
"And in those seven years you've developed approximately seventeen different paternal instincts."
"I have not."
Robin starts counting on her fingers.
"You adopted Dustin."
"I did not."
"You adopted all the children."
"They're not my children."
"You drive them places."
"That's called having a car."
"You carry snacks."
"They're growing."
"You own three first-aid kits."
Steve opens his mouth, then closes it again.
Robin points dramatically.
"My point exactly."
Steve glares. You try not to laugh. Robin doesn't bother trying.
"A cat would destroy him."
"A cat would not destroy me."
"A cat would sit on your chest once and you'd start referring to yourself as its father."
Three weeks later, you're standing in the local shelter. Robin comes with you out of excitement. Steve's only there because he insists somebody needs to be "the voice of reason." Unfortunately, the voice of reason immediately gets distracted by a ginger kitten attempting to climb his trouser leg.
"See?" Steve says, carefully lifting the tiny thing up in his arms and away from his jeans. "This is exactly what I mean."
The kitten immediately starts purring.
Steve freezes.
Or, more accurately, something about him softens so visibly that you and Robin both catch it at the exact same moment.
The kitten continues purring. Steve looks down. The kitten looks up. And just like that, you watch something happen behind Steve's eyes. Something small. Something catastrophic.
Then the kitten stretches one tiny paw towards his face.
Steve is finished. Completely.
He just doesn't know it yet.
"You can put him down," you say gently.
Steve clears his throat.
"Yeah."
He doesn't move.
The kitten continues purring happily in his hands while Steve keeps holding him like he's forgotten he was ever planning to put him down in the first place. Across the room, Robin catches your eye.
Neither of you says anything.
Neither of you needs to.
The cat comes home three days later.
Officially, he's your cat.
Steve makes this distinction repeatedly.
"This is your cat."
"Okay."
"I am simply sharing the apartment with your cat."
"Okay."
"I don't want any confusion."
You nod solemnly.
"No confusion."
Steve points.
"Good."
The cat chooses that exact moment to climb directly into Steve's lap and immediately fall asleep.
Steve looks horrified.
You nearly choke on your drink.
It starts gradually after that. Small things. Embarrassing things.
Steve starts learning the cat's favourite sleeping spots. Then his favourite treats. Then which toys he likes. Then which specific brand of food apparently tastes different despite looking exactly the same and all evidence suggesting otherwise.
"You know his routine."
"I do not."
"You just said he gets grumpy if dinner is twenty minutes late."
"Because he does."
You stare.
Steve stares back.
The cat is currently asleep across Steve's shoulders like a furry scarf.
Neither of you acknowledges it.
A month later, Robin walks into your apartment without knocking, which is how she discovers the final stage of Steve Harrington's downfall.
She freezes immediately.
You look up from the kitchen.
"What?"
Robin doesn't answer. She just points silently toward the couch.
You follow her gaze and immediately have to bite the inside of your cheek.
Hard.
Because Steve is asleep.
Flat on his back. One arm wrapped around the cat. Not beside him. Not near him. Around him.
The cat is tucked against Steve's chest like a baby, one of Steve's big hands resting protectively across his tiny little body. The cat looks impossibly pleased with the arrangement.
Robin makes a strangled noise.
You nearly drop your mug.
Neither of you gets a photo.
Mostly because you're both laughing too hard.
Steve wakes up twenty minutes later to find both of you staring.
"What?"
You point.
Steve follows your finger, looks down, sees the cat still asleep on his chest, pauses for a second, then immediately says, "This isn't what it looks like."
Robin practically falls off the armchair laughing.
"It is EXACTLY what it looks like."
"He climbed up here himself."
"You tucked a blanket around him."
Steve looks down.
There is, unfortunately, a blanket tucked around him.
"Okay, that's one time."
"The cat has his own nickname."
"Everybody has nicknames."
"You call him buddy."
"So?"
"You use the same voice you use with Dustin."
Steve looks genuinely offended.
The cat stretches lazily before climbing higher onto Steve's chest. Without even thinking about it, Steve steadies him automatically with both hands before he can slip.
The room falls silent.
Robin points dramatically.
"There."
Steve freezes.
You raise an eyebrow.
Slowly, painfully, Steve slowly realises what he's done.
His face drops into his hands.
"Oh my god."
You finally lose it.
The laughter hits hard enough to make your stomach ache. Robin's crying. The cat is purring.
And Steve Harrington, despite spending two straight months insisting otherwise, is very clearly, very unfortunately, somebody's dad.
pairing: steve harrington x fem reader
summary: after a long dry spell, you really needed to get off. after a failed date, your co-worker and crush, Steve Harrington, is at the other end of the phone to lend you a helping hand.
wc: 7k
warnings: explicit 18+ (minors dni), phone sex, mutual masturbation (f & m), dirty talk, praise, overstimulation
August, 1987
âSorry, Steve. Iâm confused, I donât think I really understand what youâre actually saying right now.â You spoke through a short laugh as you sat perched up on the counter in Family Video, your legs dangling below you as you looked over at your co-worker, Steve Harrington, who was standing opposite you with his arms crossed over his striped polo shirt and obnoxiously green vest.Â
âWhat is there to not understand about what Iâm saying?â He questioned through a laugh, his eyebrows furrowing gently at you as his body shuffled against the other side of the counter.Â
You took a sip from your straw, slurping down a few sips from your can of Coke before settling it on your knee. âYouâre saying you went out with Krista last night, she was funny, smart, cute and a good kisser â but youâre not calling her again?âÂ
Steveâs eyes looked you over once more, his arms across his chest tightening slightly causing the muscles hiding underneath his t-shirt to stretch beneath them even more before he spoke again. âSheâs nice but just â not what Iâm looking for right now.âÂ
As you went to respond, the bell from above the door pierced through the quiet of the store. You were quick to jump down from the counter, putting on your best customer service voice that Steve definitely teased you for, and snap back into character. You missed the way Steveâs eyes did one over on you when you turned around, how his eyes caught on the round of your ass when you bent forward slightly to help the customer.Â
Steve wasnât someone who you really knew in high school. You knew of him, of course, but your social circles never really mixed, which you were totally fine with. Whilst he was happy being King Steve and dating Nancy Wheeler, you were happy on the other side of the kingdom with your few friends and your nose deep in a book.Â
Robin Buckley, however, had been your best friend since before preschool. Your mothers had been best friends, so naturally the two of you were quick to follow. Steve wasnât really a character in your life until Robin started working at Scoops Ahoy with him at the mall, and while you never admitted it to her, you always kind of had a crush on him.Â
How could you not when heâd wear those awfully short, awfully unforgiving shorts in gym class? Or when youâd go to visit Robin at work and heâd be in that stupidly cute sailors uniform, and his lips would look so stupidly glossy and soft. You asked Robin once if heâd been using her chapstick to which she quickly denied, but you always wondered.Â
Naturally, after the Starcourt Mall fire you recommended Robin for the job at Family Video, where youâd already been working for almost a year, she was quick to bring Steve in tow behind her and your performance at work was quick to begin slipping.Â
You went from being Keithâs star employee to messing up orders and forgetting to wind tapes because you couldnât stop staring at stupid Steve Harrington and his stupidly perfect hair. The way the God awful green vest fit him didnât help much either, especially when heâd pull the collar of his shirt out over it and you could get a look at all his beautiful freckles that kissed his skin if you angled yourself correctly.Â
Working within a close proximity to Steve was hard at first, but eventually he actually became a friend of yours, which left you feeling incredibly guilty whenever youâd stare at his ass in those perfectly tight jeans for too long, or when youâd purposely ask for help with something in the storage room just so you could watch him stretch up and flex his gorgeously toned arms.Â
When you decided that Steve was and would always be just a friend, you needed to kick yourself into gear. So, to distract yourself you started going on dates. A lot of them.Â
You werenât really one to date around in high school, you had one boyfriend in your senior year but that only lasted about a week or two into him being at college. Now, you were seeing someone new every week, which mostly just ended in making out in his car or hugging him goodbye at the restaurant, anything to get your mind off of Steve.Â
The two of you were always very open about your conquests, heâd easily get the number of some beautiful girl who came in looking for a movie, and leave with plans for later that night. And the next morning, heâd always come in and tell you every sordid detail of the night before. You didnât mind, actually, as it gave you fuel to add to the fire when youâd get home that night and inevitably find yourself thinking about Steve before you fell asleep.Â
You also told Steve every detail of your dates. How heâd not shut up about his ex for the entire dinner, or another fell asleep on you during a movie and drooled all over your shoulder. Although, you werenât so explicit in telling Steve the dirty details, as most of the time theyâd result in you having to fake your orgasm and retreat home with your tail between your legs.Â
If you sat there and shut your eyes, and really thought about it, you couldnât remember the last time that you came, whether that was with someone else, or even by yourself. And from no lack of trying, you had been desperately trying.Â
In the shower, right before you fall asleep, right when you wake up, in the middle of the night when you canât sleep, even once in the break room after youâd slipped over a pile of DVDâs that Robin had left in the middle of the aisle and Steve was quick to catch you before you face planted. You could feel your skin burn through your clothes where his hands had grabbed you too tightly, but even then, nothing.Â
So now, you were feeling frustrated and rightfully so. You had a date tomorrow night with Ethan, a guy you met at the bar last weekend when you went out for drinks with Robin. He was tall, handsome and had big hands that you noticed when heâd handed you your glass of wine.Â
âAre you excited for your date tomorrow?â Steve asked you gently. You were pushing the cart around the store, placing rentals back in their home when Steve had appeared behind you, leaning his hands against the cart in an attempt to look casual.Â
Your eyes met his as he spoke, but you were quick to look away before you admitted how excited you were to hopefully fucking finish. âOh yeah, of course,â You cleared your throat before walking backwards down the aisle, the cart and Steve following behind you. âAre you doing anything tomorrow?â
âIâm working the early shift tomorrow, so maybe Iâll give Stacey a call when Iâm done.â You glanced over at him and he was flashing you a small smirk that you knew all too well. A small laugh fell past your lips as you threw the tape in your hands across the cart at him as you shook your head.Â
âYouâre such an ass.â You murmured softly, burying your chin in your chest to concentrate on what you were doing so you didnât have to look at him for any longer.Â
Youâd managed to stifle down your crush on Steve now that you guys were actually friends, but the more sexually frustrated you became, the harder it was to be around him. Especially when he wore that annoyingly stupid smirk and practiced pick up lines on you in preparation for the next girl walking in.Â
You felt Steve watching you for a moment as you finished the small stack in front of you, catching his eye as you began pulling the cart back to the front of the store. He was quick to follow, bringing his hand to scratch the back of his neck gently as he spoke.Â
âYou sure youâre not nervous about tomorrow?â He asked, taking charge to move to the last pile of rentals and place them on the top of the cart in front of you.Â
âWhat? YâYeah, why would I be nervous?â You scoffed gently, nodding a small thanks before taking off quickly in the opposite direction to deposit the movies back in place. You heard a small tut from behind you, and when you stopped to continue your work, you felt the warm presence behind you.Â
Steve was standing close enough that you could almost feel the curve of him against your back, the warmth of his breath against your skin and the smell of his cologne swirling through the air until it filled your nose generously. He leant around you to grab a rental, as if him standing this close to you was normal.Â
âYouâre quieter than normal, by now youâd be asking me what kind of shoes you should wear or something.â He moved from behind you to stand next to you so he could read your face, his eyes taking in each microexpression. Like the way your eyebrows scrunched slightly, the way your lip twitched as if it wanted to bite back and argue his words, but you were stopping him.Â
Instead, you let out a short breath and shook your head softly. âIâm not nervous, Steve, Iâm absolutely fine. I actually already have my outfit and my shoes picked out, so.â You flashed him a small smile, to which he returned you his own.Â
His hands lifted slightly in defeat, taking a few steps backwards down the aisle to retreat back to behind the counter. âAlright, alright. But if you change your mind, you can just call me.â He tipped his head toward you slightly before disappearing behind the display, and only when he was out of sight could you let out the breath youâd been holding since he appeared.Â
The rest of the day passed by quickly, Steve didnât bring up your supposed nerves again, which you were quietly thankful for. The two of you spoke about almost anything else, him gaging your opinion on what you think he should say when he calls Stacey tomorrow night, the two of you arguing about which movie the two of you and Robin would be watching on your next movie night. Â
Like usual, Steve dropped you home after work, over his dead body would he ever let you walk home on your own. The two of you sat in comfortable silence as the stereo hummed gently between you, until you noticed out of the corner of your eye his shifting in his seat and small glances over at you before you caved in.Â
âAre you okay?â Your voice spoke, your head leaning against the headrest behind you as the corner of your lips unable to stop the small twitch into a smile as you took in his slightly flustered expression.Â
âWhâ Me? Yeah, Iâm fine,â He looked out of his window briefly before turning his head to look over his arm, his eyes meeting yours. âAre you okay?â
Your eyes trailed over his throat, how it bobbed when he swallowed and how his freckles moved against his skin with each tense of his jaw. You took in the curve of his neck, how the button of his polo shirt had popped open throughout the day and you had a perfect view of the small stretch of hair that appeared above the fabric. Your eyes trailed along his veiny arms until they reached his large hands, his fingers wrapping around the steering wheel. You imagined dragging your tongue up them, taking a digit between your lips before wrapping your hands around his wrist and shoving them down âÂ
âHello?â He called out, your eyes quickly cutting back to his. Heat flushed your cheeks as your attention drew to the car pulling stop, thanking God that you were pulling up outside your house. You bent down to the foot of the car to grab your bag, quickly unbuckling your seatbelt as you flashed him a smile.Â
âTâThanks for the ride, Iâll see you on Sunday for movie night?â Before he had a chance to respond, you were already out of the car and slamming the door shut behind you.Â
God, you were literally gawking at him. You may as well have been a cartoon looking at a pie through a store window. Your palm hit your forehead gently as you swore at yourself under your breath, until you heard your name being called out from behind you.Â
You turned over your shoulder to see Steve leaning over the console, motioning for you to come back to the car. You cursed under your breath with every step you took closer. Youâd spent so long hiding your stupid crush, you didnât want to ruin your friendship.Â
Your hand placed on the hood of the car as you tilted your head down to peek at him through the cracked window, âYeah?â Your voice came out almost shakily, but your eyes on him were steady as he wore a warm smile across his lips.Â
âI just wanted to say good luck tomorrow night, on your date,â He said, slowly settling back into the driver's seat. He turned the key and the engine roared awake once again, his eyes meeting yours as he spoke softly. âAnd if you really want to wow him, wear that white skirt that you wore to the bar on Robâs birthday. If he sees you in that, he wonât be able to resist.âÂ
You pursed your lips slightly at his words, the heat that had risen to your skin when you thought heâd caught you staring at him now directed straight to your core. You cleared your throat gently, plastering on a smile as you nodded. âWhite skirt, got it. Thanks, Steve.â Your hand patted the roof gently as you straightened and made your way back up the path toward the front door.Â
As you reached the steps, you turned over your shoulder to see Steve still sat in his car watching you. You offered him a small wave before digging your key out of the front pocket of your bag, quickly slipping yourself into the solemnity of your house as you let out a long, long exhale.Â
You had quite the ritual for the hours leading up to your dates. Youâd wake up and enjoy a nice cup of coffee on your back porch, letting the bright summer sun wake you up before heading back inside to make some cereal. If you didnât have work that day, maybe youâd do some reading or go on a walk to take up a chunk of time. After some lunch and more reading, you hopped into the shower, scrubbing every inch of your skin with your favourite vanilla scented body wash.Â
You did have your outfit already chosen out, but you hadnât been able to stop thinking about what Steve said about your white skirt.Â
If he sees you in that, he wonât be able to resist.
Thinking back to that night, Steve had been like a parrot on your shoulder, but you just put that to the fruity cocktails you were buying for yourself but Steve would be finishing as he said they were much nicer than his beer.Â
You pulled on the white skirt, which was probably a bit too short for a first date, but you figured with your dry spell you needed all of the confidence you could get. You paired it with a pale yellow fitted blouse, the fabric cinching at the waist and the short sleeves slightly bubbled.Â
The clock was ticking under your gaze as you watched it tick minute by minute, until it finally reached eight oâclock. You grabbed your handbag that was sitting on the sofa, the heels on your shoes clicking against your floorboards as you rushed to the window at the front of your house, pushing the curtain back to watch out for Ethan's car.
Tick, tick, tick. Youâd moved from your position at the window to slump on the sofa, it was way past eight oâclock now and you were growing tired of waiting. Just as you were about to give up, you heard a car pulling up outside of your house, and a horn honking to go along with it.Â
You peered out the window again to see Ethan in the same position Steve was in yesterday, rolling the window down and leaning over the centre console to catch your attention with a wave. You glanced over at the clock, reading nine.Â
In any other circumstance, you wouldâve turned off your porch lights for the night and retreated back to your room, let him sit there and think about what heâs done. But on the other hand, you really, really needed to get off. Surely giving you an orgasm at the end of the night after a nice dinner could make up for being an hour late to your date?Â
As your heels clicked down your path towards his car, you could feel the heat within you rising. Something about the anticipation of knowing you were finally going to be fucked, or maybe it was the high heels carrying you toward the car making you feel hot and bothered. Or maybe, it was the idea that the skirt that you were wearing made you irresistible, to none other than Steve Harrington.Â
Ethan pushed open the passenger door as you got closer, flashing him a warm smile as you slipped into the seat next to him. âIâm so sorry that Iâm late, babe. Work was hell today,â He watched you closely as you settled into the seat, pulling the seatbelt over you as you looked over at him. âBut you look hot. That skirt, damn.â
You crossed your leg over the other, brushing the hem of your skirt down gently before catching his eye. Ethan was attractive, he was tall and muscular, his hair was light as it curled over his eyes, you figured heâd do for tonight. âDonât worry about it, are you sure weâre gonna make dinner, though? Itâs kinda late.â Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked over at him as he took off down your street.Â
âYeah, we definitely missed the reservation,â He laughed gently at himself before leaning his hand over the console, resting his palm against your knee as his voice deepened. âI figured, we could just go back to mine?â
âYours?â You glanced down at his cold hand warming up your knee as it rubbed against your skin gently, looking back up at him with a tight smile. âYeah, yeah. I guess thatâs fine.â
He flashed you a wide grin, his grip tightening on you as he began the drive over to his place. Your eyes fluttered shut gently, taking in a sharp breath to steady your nerves. You figured youâd go back to Ethanâs, maybe share a bottle of wine and talk for a bit before you finally could let go.Â
But the dull throb between your legs was telling you that you couldnât wait that long. You needed something, just one kiss. So you were quick to unbuckle your seatbelt as your palm wrapped around his forearm gently as you looked over at him, your fingertips trailing up his arm until it landed firmly on his shoulder. Your body adjusted slightly in your seat, pulling yourself closer so your lips could brush against Ethanâs neck.Â
âHm, eager, are we?â He mumbled as his hand inched down your thigh slowly, you let out a breathy laugh against his skin with a small nod. Your lips pressed wet kisses to his skin, your hips already trying to rut against his hand that was nowhere near you yet, desperate for some attention.Â
Ethan rounded a corner, pulling to a quick stop on a quiet street. You pulled your lips away slowly as he put the car in park, your hand coming up to rub across his chest slowly as you ducked your head back down to the skin beneath his ear. âYou okay, babe? Whyâd you stop?âÂ
His hand was quick to grab your waist as his other hand held the back of your neck, guiding you up to his lips to capture you in a sloppy kiss. It was uncoordinated and messy, your teeth clacking as he licked desperately into your mouth. Your fingers bunched the fabric at his chest before his fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling them down to his crotch.Â
You pulled your lips back slightly to look down at your hand, you could feel him hardening against your palm in his jeans. He rubbed the back of your hand gently as he spoke, dipping his head to catch his lips against yours as he mumbled against your lips. âYouâre just gonna suck me off then, yeah? I gotta be at Darrenâs in twenty minutes.â
Your body froze against his, you pulled your lips back from his as your eyes looked into his. A small, surprised last fell past your lips as you squinted your eyes at him. âIâm sorry?âÂ
Ethan let out a small groan, adjusting his hips as you pulled your hand away. âOh, donât be like that. You knew what this was, câmon.â He dragged out his last word as he motioned down to his hardening cock, your lips were parted in horror as you looked over at him.Â
âI knew what this was? You thought all Iâm good for is quickly sucking you off before you go to your friends house?â You let out a pained laugh as you shook your head, pulling yourself away from him and grabbing your handbag that had fallen to the foot of the car. âYouâre an asshole, Ethan. Youâre an hour late to our date, and think Iâm just gonna drop to my knees? Fuck you.âÂ
You let yourself out of the car, slamming the door behind you to cut off his arguing. You steamed down the sidewalk, ignoring the sound of Ethan calling your name from behind you and the sound of him speeding off into the night.Â
You could practically feel the steam pouring from your ears as you walked home. Sure, all you were expecting from Ethan was some nice conversation and a good fuck but his proposition of you sorting him out then dropping you home was where you drew the line. The more you thought about it, the more frustrated you felt yourself becoming.Â
The front door to your house slammed behind you as you kicked off your heels and kicked them across your living room, your breath huffing and puffing as you stormed through the house toward your bedroom. You sat on the edge of your bed, leaning over to grab the phone from your nightstand and quickly punching in Steveâs phone number, before you could stop yourself.Â
The phone rang twice before it clicked, a familiar voice crackling through the other end of the phone. âHello?â
âSteve? Hi, itâs me. Iâm so sorry for calling so late,â Your eyes fluttered shut as your palm pressed against your eyes, letting out a sigh of frustration at the events of the last half an hour. âMy date was fucking shock horror and IââÂ
You paused for a moment when you remembered Steve telling you at work yesterday that he was going to call Stacey tonight. A familiar knot tightened in your chest at the thought of her being on the other end of the phone, with Steve.Â
âOh God, Iâm so sorry. Iâll leave you and Stacey to â Iâll call you tomorrow. Iâm sorry.â You pulled the phone away from your ear but you heard his voice calling your name echoing into the air. Hesitantly, you pulled the phone back to your ear.Â
âHey, donât apologise. I didnât call Stacey, Iâm all alone. Whatâs up, what happened?â Your stomach settled knowing he was alone, and you let out a content sigh at the familiar comfort of his voice.Â
âHe was an hour late picking me up, just pulled up and honked his horn at me and then said we could just go back to his place which I was fine with âcause I just wanted to â Whatever. Then, he had his hand on my leg, and I started kissing him and he pulled over the car, and said to me, and I quote â Youâre just gonna suck me off then, yeah? I gotta be at Darrenâs in twenty minutes.â
You had to pause to catch your breath after your rambling, inhaling a short breath before continuing. âI thought, what a fucking prick. Like, yeah okay, I wanted to sleep with him but only because I havenât had an orgasm in like, eight months. But it was everything else, like him being an hour late and then assuming that Iâm just going toââ
âWait, wait, hold on,â Steveâs breathy voice called down the phone, causing you to pause and think about the words that youâd just let spill.Â
âShit. Okay, I didnât mean to say all that. You know what, just forget that I calledââ You murmured gently as your face screwed up into the palm of your hand, silently cursing yourself for telling Steve, your friend, that you havenât come in eight months.
âGod, Ethan is a fucking asshole. An hour late is crazy, his first mistake was not coming to the door to get you. You know, Iâll have words with him if â if you want. He canât disrespect you like that, no matter what was going to happen, he canât just assume shit.â Steve said, his words settling your nerves gently as you nodded along as he spoke.Â
âYeah, he is a fucking asshole.â You murmured gently, taking a deep breath as you pulled your hand from your face, looking down to your lap at your fingers numbly toying with the frilled hem of your skirt.Â
There was a short silence between you when Steve cleared his throat gently, and you could hear him shuffling on the other end of the phone before speaking. âSo, eight months, huh?â
A small laugh stifled past your lips as you let yourself fall back onto your mattress, a loud sigh falling past your lips as your head lulled to the side. âYeah, itâs been a while, I guess.âÂ
Steve huffed through the phone gently, racking his brain over the stories of dates youâd told him about recently. âBut what about Matt? You saw him a few times, he couldnâtââ
âNope.â You popped the p gently as your head settled against your comforter, your knee swaying against the bed slightly.
âHave you tried touching yourself?â His voice was hoarse through the phone, almost careful. A rush of heat surged from the receiver through your hand and straight between your legs, a soft sigh escaping at his question.Â
âWâWhat?â You almost laughed out, your eyes darting across your ceiling as your knees pressed together, your body suddenly feeling awfully aware of what you were talking to Steve about.Â
âI said, have you tried touching yourself?â His words were more confident now, slightly more stern as they hit your ear.Â
âWell, yeah. But it still hasnât worked.â Your voice was a mere whisper as it escaped your lips, your mouth running dry slightly as your tongue ran over your lips in an attempt to wet them. Your breath was picking up, heaving slightly under your shirt as you spoke.
âWell, what do you do? When youâre touching yourself, tell me what you do.â He spoke easily like this was just a normal conversation between you, like this was something you discussed at work regularly.
Your breath caught in your throat, holding the phone closer to your ear if even possible as you whispered through it. âSteveââ
He was quick to cut you off, his voice laced with concern. âYou donât have to, if youâre uncomfortable we can forget all about this and go back to bitching about Ethan. But, it might help you to talk it out.âÂ
You contemplated his offer for a moment, before taking in a sharp breath. The throb between your legs was now loud enough to start ringing through your ears, the hairs on your arm prickling at the prospect of Steve thinking about you touching yourself.Â
âWell, IâI usually start at my breasts, then Iâll take my hand andââ Your words got lost on the tip of your tongue, suddenly unable to even remember what you did the last time you were doing this.Â
âWhat are you wearing, baby? Did you put that pretty little skirt on?â Steveâs voice poured through the phone like honey, his deep voice calling you that pet name caused your breath to catch in your throat.Â
âYeah, the skirt and a yellow blouse.â You whispered softly, you glanced down at your hand that was now subconsciously rubbing across your stomach, your cold fingertips dipping underneath the fabric of your shirt.
âI bet you look fucking gorgeous, honey. I want you to take your hand and rub it across your chest, slowly. Take your time, baby.â He returned, and you nodded gently even though he couldnât see you.Â
Your eyes fluttered shut as you pulled your hand from underneath the hem of your shirt and slowly brought it up to your breast. Your finger cupping yourself before slipping across and touching the other, you watched as your nipples hardened through your shirt. A small, breathy moan passing your lips as your fingertips catch them.Â
âGood girl,â Steve preened through the phone, causing another pretty sound to pass your lips. You started pawing at your breasts over your shirt, your back arching against yourself as Steve spoke down the phone again. âDoes that feel good, baby?â
âYeah,â You breathed out, your fingers shakily unbuttoning the top two buttons of your shirt. You could feel all the heat pooling between your legs, your thighs clenching together in an attempt to soothe the need. âFeels real good.â
âTake off your shirt.â Steve ordered. Your hand paused on your breast for a moment before you continued unbuttoning the rest of your shirt, pulling the phone away from your ear for a moment to pull it off of your arm and discard the shirt on the other side of your bed. âAre you wearing anything underneath, honey?â
Your hand was quick to return to your chest at his words, looking down at your pink laced bra that was holding your breasts in place. Your fingers toyed at your hardened nipple, your teeth sinking into your lower lip before you spoke hoarsely. âI got a pink lacy bra on,â You swallowed thickly, a wave of bravery overtaking you before you continued. âThey match my panties.âÂ
You heard Steve groan through the phone, causing your hand to move over to your other breast that was in need of your attention. âFuck, I bet you look so beautiful right now,â He breathed down the phone, âCan you take your bra off for me, baby?â
As soon as his words hit your ear, you lifted yourself up slightly to wrap your hand around your back to unclasp the bra. You pulled it off of you, tossing it somewhere across the room before you slowly settled back on the bed. âItâs off.âÂ
âGood. Now, I want you to put two of your fingers in your pretty little mouth, and suck on them. Can you do that for me, honey?â Steveâs own breath was hitching in his throat, your fingers were happily between your lips before he could even finish his sentence.Â
The sound of you sucking on your fingers was filling up your room and Steveâs end of the phone, you let out a small moan around them as you pressed down on your tongue. You pull them out of your mouth, watching a connection of saliva follow them before putting the tips of them back between your lips.Â
âFuck. Play with your nipples now, baby. Make them all wet, pretend itâs my tongue.â With each sentence that Steve said, his voice became even more breathier. The thoughts of what he could be doing on the other end of the phone were too much for you to even think of right now.
You pulled your fingers from your lips with a small pop and ran them over your stiffened nipple. A loud moan fell past your lips, your head dipping back into the mattress as you twisted it between your fingers. You hummed as you sucked on your fingers again before moving onto the other one. âFeels so good, Steve.âÂ
âYeah? I bet it does, baby. Imagine itâs me on your chest, taking your nipple in my mouth. Kissing all over your chest, playing with them til youâre begging me to stop. I bet theyâre so hard right now, hm?â Your motions faltered slightly at the thought of Steve latched onto your chest, nodding gently as you continued to rub your fingers between them.Â
âTâThey are, Steve. Fuck.â You were palming your breasts now, your hips grinding against nothing as you were growing more desperate with each word he fed you down the phone.Â
Steve stifled out a slight groan, âCan you take that pretty skirt off for me, baby?âÂ
Your hand flew down to the hem of your skirt, lifting up your hips to pull it off of you. Your chest was heaving as you watched it fly across the room, your fingertips grazing the hem of your panties as you breathed down the phone. âItâs off.âÂ
Steve grunted softly, you took a moment to listen and you swore you could hear shuffling through the phone. The heavy breaths hitting your ear was a tell tale sign that Steve was touching himself right now, and the thought alone was enough to set you off.Â
âWâWhat are you wearing right now?â You whispered softly into the phone, your eyes shutting happily as your hand returned up to your breast as you thought about Steve with cock in his hand, getting off to the thought of you sucking on your fingers.Â
âWhat am I wearing right now?â He asked, almost thrown off by your question. He cleared his throat gently, and you heard him adjusting on the phone before answering. âJust my pyjama pants, baby.â
A small whine left your lips as you pinched your nipple between your fingers, thinking about Steve in the low light of his bedroom. Holding his phone to his ear whilst his other hand ran through the hair across his chest, travelling down his happy trail and disappearing into his pyjamas.Â
âAre you getting wet? Thinking about me with my mouth all over you? Touch yourself, and tell me.â His breath was heavy as he spoke, his hoarse tone crackling through the phone.Â
Your hand slipped from your chest down your body slowly, your fingernails dragging along your sternum and your stomach until it found the hem of your underwear. Your knees fell apart instantly, your hand dipping between your legs as your fingertips found the dampened spot on your panties.Â
A small gasp left your lips, âFuck,â You managed. Steve let out an encouraging grunt at the sounds you were making, you swallowed down another moan as your fingers explored your core over your panties. Looking down between your legs, you looked at the glisten over your fingers before mumbling down the phone. âIâm soaked, right through my panties.âÂ
âOh, fuck,â You heard Steveâs head thump back against his headboard, and the stifled sound of his hand shuffling underneath his duvet. âYouâre so fucking hot, baby. Youâre so beautiful. Take your panties off for me, please.âÂ
Your fingers wrapped around the edge of your underwear, quickly pulling them down to your ankles and kicking them to the floor. Your pussy was throbbing, desperately aching for your own touch as your hands rubbed over your thighs and your lower stomach, your voice whispering through the phone. âTell me what to do, Steve, please.âÂ
âGod, youâre killing me,â He moaned through the phone, the sounds of his hand wrapped around his cock were much clearer now as the faint sound of slapping skin filled your ear. âI want you to take your finger and touch yourself. Slowly, start at the bottom and work your way up. I want to hear you.âÂ
Your hand slipped from your stomach between your legs, a moan instantly falling from your mouth as your middle finger dipped between your lips. Dipping against your entrance before dragging it up your slit, letting out a loud whine as you reached your clit. You were quick to start rubbing small circles against it, your back arching against your mattress. âHoly shit. It feels so good, Steve.âÂ
âYeah? You sound so good, baby, I bet you taste so good.â He hummed gently, his own groans spilling against your ear as you copied his instructions a few times. Taking it slow, savouring the teasing sensation of letting yourself have just a little bit but not enough. âTaste yourself.âÂ
A whimper escaped at his request, pulling your hand up from between your legs and slipping it past your lips. You moaned around your fingers at the sensation, quick to return your wet fingers back to your pussy. Two of your fingers pressed at your entrance as your head rolled around your shoulders, âFuck, Steve.â
âGo on, baby. Fuck that pretty little pussy, let me hear you.â With his permission, you pushed your fingers into yourself with a loud whine. Your hips lifted to meet your fingers as they curled inside of you, the palm of your hand hitting your clit with each pull and push into yourself.Â
You tilted your head to the side, holding the phone steadily to your shoulder so you could slip your other hand to your chest. Your legs spread open even wider as you slipped your fingers out to rub tight circles against your clit, you could feel the pressure building tightly in your stomach. âIâI think Iâm close, Steve.âÂ
âYeah? I bet you are, baby. I bet youâre curling those fingers in that tight little pussy just imagining itâs my cock, huh? Youâd like that, wouldnât you?â He spat out, you could only whine in response as your fingers dipped back inside yourself. Copying his words, you curled your fingers inside of you as your spare hand found your clit, showing it no mercy as your stomach coiled.Â
âListen to you, honey. I can hear how wet you are down the phone, I bet youâre gushing around those fingers for me, arenât you? Do you wanna come for me? Go on, be a good girl and come for me.â Steveâs filthy words were bringing you closer and closer to the finish line, you could feel your walls tightening around your fingers as you picked up the speed of them.Â
âOh my god, Steve â Fuck, Iâm so close.â You whined down the phone, trying to fit your fingers as deep as you possibly could, your hips rolling up into yourself as your thighs tightened around your hands.
âGo on, pretty girl, come for me. Come all over your fingers, you deserve it. Such a good girl for me, hm? Imagine youâre coming all over my cock, imagine Iâm pounding into your tight little pussy right nowââ He cut off his own words with a moan, shallow curses under his breath as the obscene squelch of your pussy and the angelic sounds of your moans becoming too much for him.Â
Your moans quickly turned into a loud cry as you let yourself go, your pussy gushing around your fingers as your fingers dial in around your clit. âFuck, Steveââ Your words were cut off by your cries of pleasure, your hips writhing beneath your hand as you coax yourself down from your high. âOh my God.â
Steveâs own release was crackling through the phone as you heard the sound of skin connecting with skin fastening, the schlick sound of his hand wrapped around his cock coming to a high as he moans out your name. The sound of him falling apart and calling your name was enough to get you going again.Â
Your breath was caught in your throat as you pulled your hand from between your legs, wiping it on your comforter quickly to grab ahold of the phone that youâd been holding against your ear by your shoulder. Your legs were weak, still slightly shaking from the orgasm youâd been waiting for eight months for.Â
There was a silence over the phone as the two of you took a moment to catch your breath, before Steve murmured gently. âThat was so fucking hot. Youâre so fucking hot.â
You let out a small laugh as you attempted to steady your breathing, your hand resting on your stomach as you bit down on your lower lip gently. âThank you, Steve. I really, really needed that.âÂ
Steve cleared his throat gently, and you could hear him shuffling on the other end of the phone, going to clear himself up youâd assume. You realised you should probably do the same, but just as you pushed yourself up to sit at the end of the bed you heard the familiar jingle of Steveâs car keys down the phone.Â
âDonât move, okay?â He spoke, you could hear him moving around his bedroom, the sound of his belt buckle as he seemingly pulled them up his legs. âI need you so fucking bad, baby. I â Iâve needed you for fucking months. Fuck.âÂ
Your heart stuttered in your chest at his admission, how could one bad date lead to Steve confessing the feelings that youâve been having for him as long as you can remember? You glanced around your room quickly before leaning over to grab the clothes that youâd discarded earlier.Â
âIâm coming. Iâll be there in five, baby. Iâm not done with you yet.â And with that, the phone line clicked dead.Â
You knew that it definitely would not be another eight months until your next orgasm.
pairing: steve harrington x fem reader
summary: after a long dry spell, you really needed to get off. after a failed date, your co-worker and crush, Steve Harrington, is at the other end of the phone to lend you a helping hand.
wc: 7k
warnings: explicit 18+ (minors dni), phone sex, mutual masturbation (f & m), dirty talk, praise, overstimulation
August, 1987
âSorry, Steve. Iâm confused, I donât think I really understand what youâre actually saying right now.â You spoke through a short laugh as you sat perched up on the counter in Family Video, your legs dangling below you as you looked over at your co-worker, Steve Harrington, who was standing opposite you with his arms crossed over his striped polo shirt and obnoxiously green vest.Â
âWhat is there to not understand about what Iâm saying?â He questioned through a laugh, his eyebrows furrowing gently at you as his body shuffled against the other side of the counter.Â
You took a sip from your straw, slurping down a few sips from your can of Coke before settling it on your knee. âYouâre saying you went out with Krista last night, she was funny, smart, cute and a good kisser â but youâre not calling her again?âÂ
Steveâs eyes looked you over once more, his arms across his chest tightening slightly causing the muscles hiding underneath his t-shirt to stretch beneath them even more before he spoke again. âSheâs nice but just â not what Iâm looking for right now.âÂ
As you went to respond, the bell from above the door pierced through the quiet of the store. You were quick to jump down from the counter, putting on your best customer service voice that Steve definitely teased you for, and snap back into character. You missed the way Steveâs eyes did one over on you when you turned around, how his eyes caught on the round of your ass when you bent forward slightly to help the customer.Â
Steve wasnât someone who you really knew in high school. You knew of him, of course, but your social circles never really mixed, which you were totally fine with. Whilst he was happy being King Steve and dating Nancy Wheeler, you were happy on the other side of the kingdom with your few friends and your nose deep in a book.Â
Robin Buckley, however, had been your best friend since before preschool. Your mothers had been best friends, so naturally the two of you were quick to follow. Steve wasnât really a character in your life until Robin started working at Scoops Ahoy with him at the mall, and while you never admitted it to her, you always kind of had a crush on him.Â
How could you not when heâd wear those awfully short, awfully unforgiving shorts in gym class? Or when youâd go to visit Robin at work and heâd be in that stupidly cute sailors uniform, and his lips would look so stupidly glossy and soft. You asked Robin once if heâd been using her chapstick to which she quickly denied, but you always wondered.Â
Naturally, after the Starcourt Mall fire you recommended Robin for the job at Family Video, where youâd already been working for almost a year, she was quick to bring Steve in tow behind her and your performance at work was quick to begin slipping.Â
You went from being Keithâs star employee to messing up orders and forgetting to wind tapes because you couldnât stop staring at stupid Steve Harrington and his stupidly perfect hair. The way the God awful green vest fit him didnât help much either, especially when heâd pull the collar of his shirt out over it and you could get a look at all his beautiful freckles that kissed his skin if you angled yourself correctly.Â
Working within a close proximity to Steve was hard at first, but eventually he actually became a friend of yours, which left you feeling incredibly guilty whenever youâd stare at his ass in those perfectly tight jeans for too long, or when youâd purposely ask for help with something in the storage room just so you could watch him stretch up and flex his gorgeously toned arms.Â
When you decided that Steve was and would always be just a friend, you needed to kick yourself into gear. So, to distract yourself you started going on dates. A lot of them.Â
You werenât really one to date around in high school, you had one boyfriend in your senior year but that only lasted about a week or two into him being at college. Now, you were seeing someone new every week, which mostly just ended in making out in his car or hugging him goodbye at the restaurant, anything to get your mind off of Steve.Â
The two of you were always very open about your conquests, heâd easily get the number of some beautiful girl who came in looking for a movie, and leave with plans for later that night. And the next morning, heâd always come in and tell you every sordid detail of the night before. You didnât mind, actually, as it gave you fuel to add to the fire when youâd get home that night and inevitably find yourself thinking about Steve before you fell asleep.Â
You also told Steve every detail of your dates. How heâd not shut up about his ex for the entire dinner, or another fell asleep on you during a movie and drooled all over your shoulder. Although, you werenât so explicit in telling Steve the dirty details, as most of the time theyâd result in you having to fake your orgasm and retreat home with your tail between your legs.Â
If you sat there and shut your eyes, and really thought about it, you couldnât remember the last time that you came, whether that was with someone else, or even by yourself. And from no lack of trying, you had been desperately trying.Â
In the shower, right before you fall asleep, right when you wake up, in the middle of the night when you canât sleep, even once in the break room after youâd slipped over a pile of DVDâs that Robin had left in the middle of the aisle and Steve was quick to catch you before you face planted. You could feel your skin burn through your clothes where his hands had grabbed you too tightly, but even then, nothing.Â
So now, you were feeling frustrated and rightfully so. You had a date tomorrow night with Ethan, a guy you met at the bar last weekend when you went out for drinks with Robin. He was tall, handsome and had big hands that you noticed when heâd handed you your glass of wine.Â
âAre you excited for your date tomorrow?â Steve asked you gently. You were pushing the cart around the store, placing rentals back in their home when Steve had appeared behind you, leaning his hands against the cart in an attempt to look casual.Â
Your eyes met his as he spoke, but you were quick to look away before you admitted how excited you were to hopefully fucking finish. âOh yeah, of course,â You cleared your throat before walking backwards down the aisle, the cart and Steve following behind you. âAre you doing anything tomorrow?â
âIâm working the early shift tomorrow, so maybe Iâll give Stacey a call when Iâm done.â You glanced over at him and he was flashing you a small smirk that you knew all too well. A small laugh fell past your lips as you threw the tape in your hands across the cart at him as you shook your head.Â
âYouâre such an ass.â You murmured softly, burying your chin in your chest to concentrate on what you were doing so you didnât have to look at him for any longer.Â
Youâd managed to stifle down your crush on Steve now that you guys were actually friends, but the more sexually frustrated you became, the harder it was to be around him. Especially when he wore that annoyingly stupid smirk and practiced pick up lines on you in preparation for the next girl walking in.Â
You felt Steve watching you for a moment as you finished the small stack in front of you, catching his eye as you began pulling the cart back to the front of the store. He was quick to follow, bringing his hand to scratch the back of his neck gently as he spoke.Â
âYou sure youâre not nervous about tomorrow?â He asked, taking charge to move to the last pile of rentals and place them on the top of the cart in front of you.Â
âWhat? YâYeah, why would I be nervous?â You scoffed gently, nodding a small thanks before taking off quickly in the opposite direction to deposit the movies back in place. You heard a small tut from behind you, and when you stopped to continue your work, you felt the warm presence behind you.Â
Steve was standing close enough that you could almost feel the curve of him against your back, the warmth of his breath against your skin and the smell of his cologne swirling through the air until it filled your nose generously. He leant around you to grab a rental, as if him standing this close to you was normal.Â
âYouâre quieter than normal, by now youâd be asking me what kind of shoes you should wear or something.â He moved from behind you to stand next to you so he could read your face, his eyes taking in each microexpression. Like the way your eyebrows scrunched slightly, the way your lip twitched as if it wanted to bite back and argue his words, but you were stopping him.Â
Instead, you let out a short breath and shook your head softly. âIâm not nervous, Steve, Iâm absolutely fine. I actually already have my outfit and my shoes picked out, so.â You flashed him a small smile, to which he returned you his own.Â
His hands lifted slightly in defeat, taking a few steps backwards down the aisle to retreat back to behind the counter. âAlright, alright. But if you change your mind, you can just call me.â He tipped his head toward you slightly before disappearing behind the display, and only when he was out of sight could you let out the breath youâd been holding since he appeared.Â
The rest of the day passed by quickly, Steve didnât bring up your supposed nerves again, which you were quietly thankful for. The two of you spoke about almost anything else, him gaging your opinion on what you think he should say when he calls Stacey tomorrow night, the two of you arguing about which movie the two of you and Robin would be watching on your next movie night. Â
Like usual, Steve dropped you home after work, over his dead body would he ever let you walk home on your own. The two of you sat in comfortable silence as the stereo hummed gently between you, until you noticed out of the corner of your eye his shifting in his seat and small glances over at you before you caved in.Â
âAre you okay?â Your voice spoke, your head leaning against the headrest behind you as the corner of your lips unable to stop the small twitch into a smile as you took in his slightly flustered expression.Â
âWhâ Me? Yeah, Iâm fine,â He looked out of his window briefly before turning his head to look over his arm, his eyes meeting yours. âAre you okay?â
Your eyes trailed over his throat, how it bobbed when he swallowed and how his freckles moved against his skin with each tense of his jaw. You took in the curve of his neck, how the button of his polo shirt had popped open throughout the day and you had a perfect view of the small stretch of hair that appeared above the fabric. Your eyes trailed along his veiny arms until they reached his large hands, his fingers wrapping around the steering wheel. You imagined dragging your tongue up them, taking a digit between your lips before wrapping your hands around his wrist and shoving them down âÂ
âHello?â He called out, your eyes quickly cutting back to his. Heat flushed your cheeks as your attention drew to the car pulling stop, thanking God that you were pulling up outside your house. You bent down to the foot of the car to grab your bag, quickly unbuckling your seatbelt as you flashed him a smile.Â
âTâThanks for the ride, Iâll see you on Sunday for movie night?â Before he had a chance to respond, you were already out of the car and slamming the door shut behind you.Â
God, you were literally gawking at him. You may as well have been a cartoon looking at a pie through a store window. Your palm hit your forehead gently as you swore at yourself under your breath, until you heard your name being called out from behind you.Â
You turned over your shoulder to see Steve leaning over the console, motioning for you to come back to the car. You cursed under your breath with every step you took closer. Youâd spent so long hiding your stupid crush, you didnât want to ruin your friendship.Â
Your hand placed on the hood of the car as you tilted your head down to peek at him through the cracked window, âYeah?â Your voice came out almost shakily, but your eyes on him were steady as he wore a warm smile across his lips.Â
âI just wanted to say good luck tomorrow night, on your date,â He said, slowly settling back into the driver's seat. He turned the key and the engine roared awake once again, his eyes meeting yours as he spoke softly. âAnd if you really want to wow him, wear that white skirt that you wore to the bar on Robâs birthday. If he sees you in that, he wonât be able to resist.âÂ
You pursed your lips slightly at his words, the heat that had risen to your skin when you thought heâd caught you staring at him now directed straight to your core. You cleared your throat gently, plastering on a smile as you nodded. âWhite skirt, got it. Thanks, Steve.â Your hand patted the roof gently as you straightened and made your way back up the path toward the front door.Â
As you reached the steps, you turned over your shoulder to see Steve still sat in his car watching you. You offered him a small wave before digging your key out of the front pocket of your bag, quickly slipping yourself into the solemnity of your house as you let out a long, long exhale.Â
You had quite the ritual for the hours leading up to your dates. Youâd wake up and enjoy a nice cup of coffee on your back porch, letting the bright summer sun wake you up before heading back inside to make some cereal. If you didnât have work that day, maybe youâd do some reading or go on a walk to take up a chunk of time. After some lunch and more reading, you hopped into the shower, scrubbing every inch of your skin with your favourite vanilla scented body wash.Â
You did have your outfit already chosen out, but you hadnât been able to stop thinking about what Steve said about your white skirt.Â
If he sees you in that, he wonât be able to resist.
Thinking back to that night, Steve had been like a parrot on your shoulder, but you just put that to the fruity cocktails you were buying for yourself but Steve would be finishing as he said they were much nicer than his beer.Â
You pulled on the white skirt, which was probably a bit too short for a first date, but you figured with your dry spell you needed all of the confidence you could get. You paired it with a pale yellow fitted blouse, the fabric cinching at the waist and the short sleeves slightly bubbled.Â
The clock was ticking under your gaze as you watched it tick minute by minute, until it finally reached eight oâclock. You grabbed your handbag that was sitting on the sofa, the heels on your shoes clicking against your floorboards as you rushed to the window at the front of your house, pushing the curtain back to watch out for Ethan's car.
Tick, tick, tick. Youâd moved from your position at the window to slump on the sofa, it was way past eight oâclock now and you were growing tired of waiting. Just as you were about to give up, you heard a car pulling up outside of your house, and a horn honking to go along with it.Â
You peered out the window again to see Ethan in the same position Steve was in yesterday, rolling the window down and leaning over the centre console to catch your attention with a wave. You glanced over at the clock, reading nine.Â
In any other circumstance, you wouldâve turned off your porch lights for the night and retreated back to your room, let him sit there and think about what heâs done. But on the other hand, you really, really needed to get off. Surely giving you an orgasm at the end of the night after a nice dinner could make up for being an hour late to your date?Â
As your heels clicked down your path towards his car, you could feel the heat within you rising. Something about the anticipation of knowing you were finally going to be fucked, or maybe it was the high heels carrying you toward the car making you feel hot and bothered. Or maybe, it was the idea that the skirt that you were wearing made you irresistible, to none other than Steve Harrington.Â
Ethan pushed open the passenger door as you got closer, flashing him a warm smile as you slipped into the seat next to him. âIâm so sorry that Iâm late, babe. Work was hell today,â He watched you closely as you settled into the seat, pulling the seatbelt over you as you looked over at him. âBut you look hot. That skirt, damn.â
You crossed your leg over the other, brushing the hem of your skirt down gently before catching his eye. Ethan was attractive, he was tall and muscular, his hair was light as it curled over his eyes, you figured heâd do for tonight. âDonât worry about it, are you sure weâre gonna make dinner, though? Itâs kinda late.â Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked over at him as he took off down your street.Â
âYeah, we definitely missed the reservation,â He laughed gently at himself before leaning his hand over the console, resting his palm against your knee as his voice deepened. âI figured, we could just go back to mine?â
âYours?â You glanced down at his cold hand warming up your knee as it rubbed against your skin gently, looking back up at him with a tight smile. âYeah, yeah. I guess thatâs fine.â
He flashed you a wide grin, his grip tightening on you as he began the drive over to his place. Your eyes fluttered shut gently, taking in a sharp breath to steady your nerves. You figured youâd go back to Ethanâs, maybe share a bottle of wine and talk for a bit before you finally could let go.Â
But the dull throb between your legs was telling you that you couldnât wait that long. You needed something, just one kiss. So you were quick to unbuckle your seatbelt as your palm wrapped around his forearm gently as you looked over at him, your fingertips trailing up his arm until it landed firmly on his shoulder. Your body adjusted slightly in your seat, pulling yourself closer so your lips could brush against Ethanâs neck.Â
âHm, eager, are we?â He mumbled as his hand inched down your thigh slowly, you let out a breathy laugh against his skin with a small nod. Your lips pressed wet kisses to his skin, your hips already trying to rut against his hand that was nowhere near you yet, desperate for some attention.Â
Ethan rounded a corner, pulling to a quick stop on a quiet street. You pulled your lips away slowly as he put the car in park, your hand coming up to rub across his chest slowly as you ducked your head back down to the skin beneath his ear. âYou okay, babe? Whyâd you stop?âÂ
His hand was quick to grab your waist as his other hand held the back of your neck, guiding you up to his lips to capture you in a sloppy kiss. It was uncoordinated and messy, your teeth clacking as he licked desperately into your mouth. Your fingers bunched the fabric at his chest before his fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling them down to his crotch.Â
You pulled your lips back slightly to look down at your hand, you could feel him hardening against your palm in his jeans. He rubbed the back of your hand gently as he spoke, dipping his head to catch his lips against yours as he mumbled against your lips. âYouâre just gonna suck me off then, yeah? I gotta be at Darrenâs in twenty minutes.â
Your body froze against his, you pulled your lips back from his as your eyes looked into his. A small, surprised last fell past your lips as you squinted your eyes at him. âIâm sorry?âÂ
Ethan let out a small groan, adjusting his hips as you pulled your hand away. âOh, donât be like that. You knew what this was, câmon.â He dragged out his last word as he motioned down to his hardening cock, your lips were parted in horror as you looked over at him.Â
âI knew what this was? You thought all Iâm good for is quickly sucking you off before you go to your friends house?â You let out a pained laugh as you shook your head, pulling yourself away from him and grabbing your handbag that had fallen to the foot of the car. âYouâre an asshole, Ethan. Youâre an hour late to our date, and think Iâm just gonna drop to my knees? Fuck you.âÂ
You let yourself out of the car, slamming the door behind you to cut off his arguing. You steamed down the sidewalk, ignoring the sound of Ethan calling your name from behind you and the sound of him speeding off into the night.Â
You could practically feel the steam pouring from your ears as you walked home. Sure, all you were expecting from Ethan was some nice conversation and a good fuck but his proposition of you sorting him out then dropping you home was where you drew the line. The more you thought about it, the more frustrated you felt yourself becoming.Â
The front door to your house slammed behind you as you kicked off your heels and kicked them across your living room, your breath huffing and puffing as you stormed through the house toward your bedroom. You sat on the edge of your bed, leaning over to grab the phone from your nightstand and quickly punching in Steveâs phone number, before you could stop yourself.Â
The phone rang twice before it clicked, a familiar voice crackling through the other end of the phone. âHello?â
âSteve? Hi, itâs me. Iâm so sorry for calling so late,â Your eyes fluttered shut as your palm pressed against your eyes, letting out a sigh of frustration at the events of the last half an hour. âMy date was fucking shock horror and IââÂ
You paused for a moment when you remembered Steve telling you at work yesterday that he was going to call Stacey tonight. A familiar knot tightened in your chest at the thought of her being on the other end of the phone, with Steve.Â
âOh God, Iâm so sorry. Iâll leave you and Stacey to â Iâll call you tomorrow. Iâm sorry.â You pulled the phone away from your ear but you heard his voice calling your name echoing into the air. Hesitantly, you pulled the phone back to your ear.Â
âHey, donât apologise. I didnât call Stacey, Iâm all alone. Whatâs up, what happened?â Your stomach settled knowing he was alone, and you let out a content sigh at the familiar comfort of his voice.Â
âHe was an hour late picking me up, just pulled up and honked his horn at me and then said we could just go back to his place which I was fine with âcause I just wanted to â Whatever. Then, he had his hand on my leg, and I started kissing him and he pulled over the car, and said to me, and I quote â Youâre just gonna suck me off then, yeah? I gotta be at Darrenâs in twenty minutes.â
You had to pause to catch your breath after your rambling, inhaling a short breath before continuing. âI thought, what a fucking prick. Like, yeah okay, I wanted to sleep with him but only because I havenât had an orgasm in like, eight months. But it was everything else, like him being an hour late and then assuming that Iâm just going toââ
âWait, wait, hold on,â Steveâs breathy voice called down the phone, causing you to pause and think about the words that youâd just let spill.Â
âShit. Okay, I didnât mean to say all that. You know what, just forget that I calledââ You murmured gently as your face screwed up into the palm of your hand, silently cursing yourself for telling Steve, your friend, that you havenât come in eight months.
âGod, Ethan is a fucking asshole. An hour late is crazy, his first mistake was not coming to the door to get you. You know, Iâll have words with him if â if you want. He canât disrespect you like that, no matter what was going to happen, he canât just assume shit.â Steve said, his words settling your nerves gently as you nodded along as he spoke.Â
âYeah, he is a fucking asshole.â You murmured gently, taking a deep breath as you pulled your hand from your face, looking down to your lap at your fingers numbly toying with the frilled hem of your skirt.Â
There was a short silence between you when Steve cleared his throat gently, and you could hear him shuffling on the other end of the phone before speaking. âSo, eight months, huh?â
A small laugh stifled past your lips as you let yourself fall back onto your mattress, a loud sigh falling past your lips as your head lulled to the side. âYeah, itâs been a while, I guess.âÂ
Steve huffed through the phone gently, racking his brain over the stories of dates youâd told him about recently. âBut what about Matt? You saw him a few times, he couldnâtââ
âNope.â You popped the p gently as your head settled against your comforter, your knee swaying against the bed slightly.
âHave you tried touching yourself?â His voice was hoarse through the phone, almost careful. A rush of heat surged from the receiver through your hand and straight between your legs, a soft sigh escaping at his question.Â
âWâWhat?â You almost laughed out, your eyes darting across your ceiling as your knees pressed together, your body suddenly feeling awfully aware of what you were talking to Steve about.Â
âI said, have you tried touching yourself?â His words were more confident now, slightly more stern as they hit your ear.Â
âWell, yeah. But it still hasnât worked.â Your voice was a mere whisper as it escaped your lips, your mouth running dry slightly as your tongue ran over your lips in an attempt to wet them. Your breath was picking up, heaving slightly under your shirt as you spoke.
âWell, what do you do? When youâre touching yourself, tell me what you do.â He spoke easily like this was just a normal conversation between you, like this was something you discussed at work regularly.
Your breath caught in your throat, holding the phone closer to your ear if even possible as you whispered through it. âSteveââ
He was quick to cut you off, his voice laced with concern. âYou donât have to, if youâre uncomfortable we can forget all about this and go back to bitching about Ethan. But, it might help you to talk it out.âÂ
You contemplated his offer for a moment, before taking in a sharp breath. The throb between your legs was now loud enough to start ringing through your ears, the hairs on your arm prickling at the prospect of Steve thinking about you touching yourself.Â
âWell, IâI usually start at my breasts, then Iâll take my hand andââ Your words got lost on the tip of your tongue, suddenly unable to even remember what you did the last time you were doing this.Â
âWhat are you wearing, baby? Did you put that pretty little skirt on?â Steveâs voice poured through the phone like honey, his deep voice calling you that pet name caused your breath to catch in your throat.Â
âYeah, the skirt and a yellow blouse.â You whispered softly, you glanced down at your hand that was now subconsciously rubbing across your stomach, your cold fingertips dipping underneath the fabric of your shirt.
âI bet you look fucking gorgeous, honey. I want you to take your hand and rub it across your chest, slowly. Take your time, baby.â He returned, and you nodded gently even though he couldnât see you.Â
Your eyes fluttered shut as you pulled your hand from underneath the hem of your shirt and slowly brought it up to your breast. Your finger cupping yourself before slipping across and touching the other, you watched as your nipples hardened through your shirt. A small, breathy moan passing your lips as your fingertips catch them.Â
âGood girl,â Steve preened through the phone, causing another pretty sound to pass your lips. You started pawing at your breasts over your shirt, your back arching against yourself as Steve spoke down the phone again. âDoes that feel good, baby?â
âYeah,â You breathed out, your fingers shakily unbuttoning the top two buttons of your shirt. You could feel all the heat pooling between your legs, your thighs clenching together in an attempt to soothe the need. âFeels real good.â
âTake off your shirt.â Steve ordered. Your hand paused on your breast for a moment before you continued unbuttoning the rest of your shirt, pulling the phone away from your ear for a moment to pull it off of your arm and discard the shirt on the other side of your bed. âAre you wearing anything underneath, honey?â
Your hand was quick to return to your chest at his words, looking down at your pink laced bra that was holding your breasts in place. Your fingers toyed at your hardened nipple, your teeth sinking into your lower lip before you spoke hoarsely. âI got a pink lacy bra on,â You swallowed thickly, a wave of bravery overtaking you before you continued. âThey match my panties.âÂ
You heard Steve groan through the phone, causing your hand to move over to your other breast that was in need of your attention. âFuck, I bet you look so beautiful right now,â He breathed down the phone, âCan you take your bra off for me, baby?â
As soon as his words hit your ear, you lifted yourself up slightly to wrap your hand around your back to unclasp the bra. You pulled it off of you, tossing it somewhere across the room before you slowly settled back on the bed. âItâs off.âÂ
âGood. Now, I want you to put two of your fingers in your pretty little mouth, and suck on them. Can you do that for me, honey?â Steveâs own breath was hitching in his throat, your fingers were happily between your lips before he could even finish his sentence.Â
The sound of you sucking on your fingers was filling up your room and Steveâs end of the phone, you let out a small moan around them as you pressed down on your tongue. You pull them out of your mouth, watching a connection of saliva follow them before putting the tips of them back between your lips.Â
âFuck. Play with your nipples now, baby. Make them all wet, pretend itâs my tongue.â With each sentence that Steve said, his voice became even more breathier. The thoughts of what he could be doing on the other end of the phone were too much for you to even think of right now.
You pulled your fingers from your lips with a small pop and ran them over your stiffened nipple. A loud moan fell past your lips, your head dipping back into the mattress as you twisted it between your fingers. You hummed as you sucked on your fingers again before moving onto the other one. âFeels so good, Steve.âÂ
âYeah? I bet it does, baby. Imagine itâs me on your chest, taking your nipple in my mouth. Kissing all over your chest, playing with them til youâre begging me to stop. I bet theyâre so hard right now, hm?â Your motions faltered slightly at the thought of Steve latched onto your chest, nodding gently as you continued to rub your fingers between them.Â
âTâThey are, Steve. Fuck.â You were palming your breasts now, your hips grinding against nothing as you were growing more desperate with each word he fed you down the phone.Â
Steve stifled out a slight groan, âCan you take that pretty skirt off for me, baby?âÂ
Your hand flew down to the hem of your skirt, lifting up your hips to pull it off of you. Your chest was heaving as you watched it fly across the room, your fingertips grazing the hem of your panties as you breathed down the phone. âItâs off.âÂ
Steve grunted softly, you took a moment to listen and you swore you could hear shuffling through the phone. The heavy breaths hitting your ear was a tell tale sign that Steve was touching himself right now, and the thought alone was enough to set you off.Â
âWâWhat are you wearing right now?â You whispered softly into the phone, your eyes shutting happily as your hand returned up to your breast as you thought about Steve with cock in his hand, getting off to the thought of you sucking on your fingers.Â
âWhat am I wearing right now?â He asked, almost thrown off by your question. He cleared his throat gently, and you heard him adjusting on the phone before answering. âJust my pyjama pants, baby.â
A small whine left your lips as you pinched your nipple between your fingers, thinking about Steve in the low light of his bedroom. Holding his phone to his ear whilst his other hand ran through the hair across his chest, travelling down his happy trail and disappearing into his pyjamas.Â
âAre you getting wet? Thinking about me with my mouth all over you? Touch yourself, and tell me.â His breath was heavy as he spoke, his hoarse tone crackling through the phone.Â
Your hand slipped from your chest down your body slowly, your fingernails dragging along your sternum and your stomach until it found the hem of your underwear. Your knees fell apart instantly, your hand dipping between your legs as your fingertips found the dampened spot on your panties.Â
A small gasp left your lips, âFuck,â You managed. Steve let out an encouraging grunt at the sounds you were making, you swallowed down another moan as your fingers explored your core over your panties. Looking down between your legs, you looked at the glisten over your fingers before mumbling down the phone. âIâm soaked, right through my panties.âÂ
âOh, fuck,â You heard Steveâs head thump back against his headboard, and the stifled sound of his hand shuffling underneath his duvet. âYouâre so fucking hot, baby. Youâre so beautiful. Take your panties off for me, please.âÂ
Your fingers wrapped around the edge of your underwear, quickly pulling them down to your ankles and kicking them to the floor. Your pussy was throbbing, desperately aching for your own touch as your hands rubbed over your thighs and your lower stomach, your voice whispering through the phone. âTell me what to do, Steve, please.âÂ
âGod, youâre killing me,â He moaned through the phone, the sounds of his hand wrapped around his cock were much clearer now as the faint sound of slapping skin filled your ear. âI want you to take your finger and touch yourself. Slowly, start at the bottom and work your way up. I want to hear you.âÂ
Your hand slipped from your stomach between your legs, a moan instantly falling from your mouth as your middle finger dipped between your lips. Dipping against your entrance before dragging it up your slit, letting out a loud whine as you reached your clit. You were quick to start rubbing small circles against it, your back arching against your mattress. âHoly shit. It feels so good, Steve.âÂ
âYeah? You sound so good, baby, I bet you taste so good.â He hummed gently, his own groans spilling against your ear as you copied his instructions a few times. Taking it slow, savouring the teasing sensation of letting yourself have just a little bit but not enough. âTaste yourself.âÂ
A whimper escaped at his request, pulling your hand up from between your legs and slipping it past your lips. You moaned around your fingers at the sensation, quick to return your wet fingers back to your pussy. Two of your fingers pressed at your entrance as your head rolled around your shoulders, âFuck, Steve.â
âGo on, baby. Fuck that pretty little pussy, let me hear you.â With his permission, you pushed your fingers into yourself with a loud whine. Your hips lifted to meet your fingers as they curled inside of you, the palm of your hand hitting your clit with each pull and push into yourself.Â
You tilted your head to the side, holding the phone steadily to your shoulder so you could slip your other hand to your chest. Your legs spread open even wider as you slipped your fingers out to rub tight circles against your clit, you could feel the pressure building tightly in your stomach. âIâI think Iâm close, Steve.âÂ
âYeah? I bet you are, baby. I bet youâre curling those fingers in that tight little pussy just imagining itâs my cock, huh? Youâd like that, wouldnât you?â He spat out, you could only whine in response as your fingers dipped back inside yourself. Copying his words, you curled your fingers inside of you as your spare hand found your clit, showing it no mercy as your stomach coiled.Â
âListen to you, honey. I can hear how wet you are down the phone, I bet youâre gushing around those fingers for me, arenât you? Do you wanna come for me? Go on, be a good girl and come for me.â Steveâs filthy words were bringing you closer and closer to the finish line, you could feel your walls tightening around your fingers as you picked up the speed of them.Â
âOh my god, Steve â Fuck, Iâm so close.â You whined down the phone, trying to fit your fingers as deep as you possibly could, your hips rolling up into yourself as your thighs tightened around your hands.
âGo on, pretty girl, come for me. Come all over your fingers, you deserve it. Such a good girl for me, hm? Imagine youâre coming all over my cock, imagine Iâm pounding into your tight little pussy right nowââ He cut off his own words with a moan, shallow curses under his breath as the obscene squelch of your pussy and the angelic sounds of your moans becoming too much for him.Â
Your moans quickly turned into a loud cry as you let yourself go, your pussy gushing around your fingers as your fingers dial in around your clit. âFuck, Steveââ Your words were cut off by your cries of pleasure, your hips writhing beneath your hand as you coax yourself down from your high. âOh my God.â
Steveâs own release was crackling through the phone as you heard the sound of skin connecting with skin fastening, the schlick sound of his hand wrapped around his cock coming to a high as he moans out your name. The sound of him falling apart and calling your name was enough to get you going again.Â
Your breath was caught in your throat as you pulled your hand from between your legs, wiping it on your comforter quickly to grab ahold of the phone that youâd been holding against your ear by your shoulder. Your legs were weak, still slightly shaking from the orgasm youâd been waiting for eight months for.Â
There was a silence over the phone as the two of you took a moment to catch your breath, before Steve murmured gently. âThat was so fucking hot. Youâre so fucking hot.â
You let out a small laugh as you attempted to steady your breathing, your hand resting on your stomach as you bit down on your lower lip gently. âThank you, Steve. I really, really needed that.âÂ
Steve cleared his throat gently, and you could hear him shuffling on the other end of the phone, going to clear himself up youâd assume. You realised you should probably do the same, but just as you pushed yourself up to sit at the end of the bed you heard the familiar jingle of Steveâs car keys down the phone.Â
âDonât move, okay?â He spoke, you could hear him moving around his bedroom, the sound of his belt buckle as he seemingly pulled them up his legs. âI need you so fucking bad, baby. I â Iâve needed you for fucking months. Fuck.âÂ
Your heart stuttered in your chest at his admission, how could one bad date lead to Steve confessing the feelings that youâve been having for him as long as you can remember? You glanced around your room quickly before leaning over to grab the clothes that youâd discarded earlier.Â
âIâm coming. Iâll be there in five, baby. Iâm not done with you yet.â And with that, the phone line clicked dead.Â
You knew that it definitely would not be another eight months until your next orgasm.
SO HIGH SCHOOL MASTERLIST
steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: youâre jonathan byersâs best friend. you live in hawkins, indiana, and you know everyone in the small town. you work two jobs to help your mom with bills while also managing to be the top of your classes. everything is normal until the day will byers goes missing, and the world as you know it is flipped upside down. and because of that, you form an unlikely friendship with the âkingâ of your high school, steve harrington.
tags/warnings: steve harrington x fem!reader, use of y/n, mostly canon-compliant reader insert (maybe a few minor changes here or there), swearing, fluff, angst, eventual smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to ??? to lovers, seasons 1-5, mentions of child abandonment/neglect, mentions of dead parents, minor eddie munson x fem!reader, reader lowkey has attachment/abandonment issues, minor miscommunication, i hate murray bauman, writing might be shit idk.
masterlist !
wattpad link , ao3 link
â
PART ONE â tell me âbout the first time you saw me
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
PART TWO â you know how to ball, i know aristotle
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
PART THREE â are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?
chapter nine
chapter ten
chapter eleven
chapter twelve
chapter thirteen
PART FOUR â i want to find you in a crowd just to hide from you
chapter fourteen
chapter fifteen
chapter sixteen
chapter seventeen
chapter eighteen
chapter nineteen
chapter twenty
PART FIVE â no oneâs ever had me, not like you
chapter twenty-one
chapter twenty-two
chapter twenty-three
chapter twenty-four
chapter twenty-five
chapter twenty-six
chapter twenty-seven
EPILOGUE â you knew what you wanted and, boy, you got her
the epilogue
â
a/n: this series was originally posted on wattpad on christmas 2025, and iâm writing the last few chapters right now so i thought this was the best time to start posting it on here + ao3! idk i hope you guys like it. and don't worry, this series is basically completely written so i will still be focusing on writing other fics while posting this! more spidey steve is coming i promise you all.
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