pairing: steve harrington x fem reader
summary: it was a clear rule at family video that you never, ever borrow the tapes. and as their star employee, you never did. but after breaking up with your boyfriend, an x-rated tape was what you needed to prepare yourself for your next date. or would it be Steve Harrington?
wc: 10.8k
warnings: explicit 18+ (minors dni), inexperienced reader, oral sex (f & m receiving), finger sucking, nipple play, dirty talk, praise
Most of the time, Steve’s thirty minute break was the only minutes of peace he’d have to himself the entire day. He’d start his morning quietly, waking up alone in his house and making his way to work. But the minute he’d push his way through those doors, chaos would ensue.
Especially during the summer. Kids, teenagers and adults alike all bustling around Family Video in search for something specific. He’d deal with it all. The sweet elderly women that stood talking to him for too long because he was just too lovely, the group of kids who’d linger for way too long and completely ignore his shooing them away.
And after work would almost always entail driving straight from work to wherever he was needed. Sometimes it would just be picking up Dustin and Lucas, dropping them home safely from Will’s house. Or Robin’s house for movie night, bringing along whatever tape he’d swiped that afternoon.
It was something that was very frowned upon, but all the employees did. Sneak the odd tape or two in their bag, watch it that night and return it on their next shift like it had never been missing in the first place.
Well, all the employees except for you. You wouldn’t say that you were Family Video’s star employee, but if somebody else said that – you wouldn’t deny it.
You were always early to every shift, your uniform always perfectly tidy and straightened. You never took too long on your break, you’d even sometimes head back onto the shop floor a few minutes earlier if you could hear the herds of people from the breakroom. You’d always pick up any extra shifts, or cover anybody if they needed to.
And you never, ever swiped any tapes. And everybody knew that.
On this surprisingly quiet Thursday evening, Steve was finally clocking out to take his break. He’d packed himself a peanut butter sandwich this morning, along with a bag of chips that had gotten slightly crushed from his trip from his car this morning.
“I’m gonna take my thirty now, will you be alright out here on your own?” You heard Steve ask from behind you. You stood at the front counter, restocking the rows of candy that was kept at the front of the store.
Your hands paused on a bar of Snickers, you turned to glance over your shoulder to see Steve leaning against the counter behind you with his arms crossed, twirling his little brown paper bag between his fingers.
A small laugh escaping your lips as you looked across the shop floor, eyes focusing on two young girls browsing in one of the aisles. “I think I can handle it. Go put your feet up, enjoy your break.”
Steve huffed a laugh, nodding at you before tightening his grip on his sacked lunch. He turned on his feet and made his way to the back of the store, pushing the door open with his elbow as he sauntered through.
The break room was on the smaller side. A table in the middle of the room with a few mismatched chairs, a countertop lining the side of the room where the employees would keep their bags despite the hooks hanging just above it.
There was a small pile of magazines that laid on the counter, different genres that people would bring to work and then discard for others to read after. As Steve passed them, he grabbed the one on the top to keep his mind occupied whilst he ate.
Spin. Hm, not his first choice, but it’ll do. One hand held his flattened sandwich to his mouth whilst the other flicked through the pages, his eyes reading over an article about Prince.
His eyes flickered to the clock that sat above the door, reading seven thirty. He huffed out a sigh, flicking the magazine that he’d read back to front closed and pushed himself from his chair. He shoved his empty packet of chips into the brown paper bag, and tossed it into the trashcan underneath the counter.
As Steve was mentally preparing himself to return to work for the next two and a half hours, he dropped the magazine onto the stack with the others as he passed it, but something caught his eye.
Right next to the pile, was a brown leather handbag that was slightly scuffed with wear, a red ribbon tied around one of the handles. He knew that it was yours, he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. But something that he hadn’t seen before was the tape that was poking out of it.
He took a step closer, his eyes squinting as he leant down, not wanting to touch your bag but couldn’t ignore his interest. His fingers wrapped around the corner of the tape, slowly pulling it out to reveal Pretty Peaches 2, an orange cover with a woman clad in black lingerie.
“What the–” He mumbled to himself, his eyebrows knitting together as he turned the tape over to read the back. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, clearing it as he carefully slipped the tape back into place where he’d found it.
Steve wiped the corner of the tape as if to wash away his fingerprints, and quickly scurried out of the breakroom. He adjusted his vest as he looked over the rest of the store, the two girls who’d been in earlier had now left, just leaving you at the front of the store still organising the candy.
He felt his mouth go dry once his eyes landed on you, his tongue slipping past his lips to swipe across his lower lip as he attempted to steady himself. He didn’t know what was more puzzling, the fact that you were keeping porn in your bag or the fact that you’d actually swiped a tape.
You glanced up as you felt Steve making his way over to you, flashing him a wide smile as you placed a packet of Reece’s Pieces on the stand. “Nice break?”
The softness of your voice hit his ears like honey, he flashed you a tight smile as he leant against the counter in front of you. His arms slipped across his chest, as if a shield of armour to protect himself from this secret he was now hiding. “Yeah, was great.”
You’d known Steve for a while now, from working together here. You’d been a friend of Robin’s in high school, of course you knew of Steve but he was never somebody whose circle you ran in. Robin had got you a job here shortly after the two of them started working here, and you slotted perfectly right into their little group.
When you weren’t at work, you were hanging out with your boyfriend, Trevor. But after your break up two months ago, you were now spending your time with Robin and Steve. You’d gotten to know Steve quite well, he was a charismatic and caring friend who carried himself with a lot of confidence. He was really funny, always making you laugh even when you were feeling down about your breakup. You’d also, obviously, noticed that he was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous.
He watched as your eyes glanced over him, taking in his quietened demeanor. He’d usually jump at the opportunity of a quiet store to spiel about a stupid story that you’d heard a million times but always made you laugh anyway, just to hear it.
“You alright?” You pressed gently, grabbing the empty box that was holding all of the new candy and rounded to the other side of the counter to push it beneath it, making a mental note to take it out the back with you when you leave.
“Me? Yeah, I’m fine.” He practically laughed out with disbelief, one of his hands coming up to scratch at the nape of his neck before lowering it back to cross his chest.
Your eyebrows furrowed gently, but ultimately decided not to press it any further. You just got on with your closing tasks for the day, the clock ticking and ticking on until it finally hit ten o’clock.
“Do you want a ride home?” Steve asked, leaping forward to grab the empty box from you as you made your way to the break room to grab your stuff.
“Oh, that’d be great. Thanks, Steve,” You flashed him a smile as you let him take the box from you, tilting your head toward the breakroom before stepping toward it. “Let me grab my stuff, I’ll be just a minute.”
He nodded gently as he watched you disappear through the door, exhaling the breath that he didn’t even know he was holding in. It seemed like forever that he was hearing you shuffling about in there, he even thought he heard you talking to yourself until you finally swung the door open and stepped out.
“Ready to go?” He spoke as he adjusted the box under his arm, twisting his car keys around his finger before closing them in his palm.
“Ready.” You gave him a small nod, crossing the store to flick off the lightswitch before walking the two of you to the back door. Steve thanked you as you held it open for him, jogging over to the large recycling bin to chuck the box into.
You locked up the back door, making your way over to Steve’s car. He was quick to catch up to you, making sure to open the passenger door for you like always. You thanked him as you slipped inside, pulling your seatbelt on as he rounded the car.
Steve’s door shut behind him as he settled into his seat, twisting the key in the car as he glanced over at you. Your bag sat close to you on your lap, your fingers holding it as if someone was going to pry the door open and swipe it from your hands.
“So, you got any plans for tonight?” Steve asked softly, turning over his shoulder to check his mirrors as he pulled out of the empty car park, his attention turning to you as his hand put the car into gear.
“Uh,” You took your lower lip between your teeth as you thought, trying to think of an excuse. You obviously weren’t going to tell Steve about the tape in your bag, and what you were actually going to do tonight. “Probably just watch a movie or something.”
Steve nodded at your words, his eyes focused on the dark night ahead of him. “Any movie in particular?” He glanced over at you, without thinking his eyes dropped to your bag beneath your tight grip.
When his eyes met yours again, your lips parted slightly and your expression turned into something like a deer caught in headlights. Steve cleared his throat, turning his attention back in front of him as you shuffled in your seat.
“You saw it?” Your voice left as a whisper, you could feel the heat rising to your skin. Your chest tightening as you kept your eyes on Steve, your grip loosening on your bag as you let out a small sigh.
“I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t looking through your stuff or anything, God– I’m not a creep,” He laughed awkwardly, clearing his throat before continuing. “I was just putting one of the magazines back and your bag was open, I swear I–” When he finally looked over at you, your hand was covering your face.
“Fuck. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I just– I was surprised, didn’t peg you for the porn type.” His voice mumbled the last few words, catching your glare as your hands dropped to the bag on your lap.
“It’s fine, Steve,” You finally said with a shrug of your shoulder, your fingers pulling the zipper open and wrapping around the tape. “I’m not the porn type, to be honest.”
“No? Well, I’d say the tape that you smuggled from work would beg to differ.” He snickered, a small smirk fighting his features as he glanced over at you now he knew you weren’t angry at him for finding it.
You scoffed, your hand reaching over to swat against his arm before looking down at the tape. “I didn’t take it to like, get off to or anything.” Your voice spoke softly, your eyes avoiding his as you looked down at the woman on the cover.
Steve swallowed thickly, battling down any thoughts of you alone in your room watching that tape that were now at the forefront of his mind. He cricked his neck slightly, hands tightening on the wheel as he spoke. “No? Why’d you take it then? Appreciate the camera work?”
A laugh huffed past your lips at his words, shaking your head gently as you stuffed the tape back into your bag and zipped it back up. “It’s kinda.. Embarrassing.” You whispered softly, twirling your finger around the ribbon that laid across your lap.
“Embarrassing?” Steve questioned, turning the car down onto your street. You felt him glance over at you, and when you met his gaze he was looking at you with a look you hadn’t seen from him before. Maybe, concern? “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”
You took in a long breath, exhaling it as your gaze turned to watch your house inch closer and closer. “It’s just– Me and Trevor obviously broke up like, two months ago. And I haven’t been with anyone since.”
Steve pulled up his car outside of your house, flicking off the engine and turning his body to you to give you his full attention, his voice soft as he spoke. “That’s not embarrassing.”
“Yeah, no, I know. I’m not embarrassed about that,” You said quickly, debating on whether you should continue or just duck and roll out of the car and into the dark of your bedroom. “I was with Trevor for a long time, like five years, we were each other's first everything. But, he was never really into sex. I could probably count on one hand how many times we fucked in the last like, year of our relationship.”
Steve’s lips pursed shut slightly, his eyes wandering your features that were highlighted from the streetlamps that sat outside his car. “That’s also not embarrassing.”
You scoffed a small laugh, your head leaning back into the headrest before turning it to look at him. “I have a date on Saturday night, and I don’t know how it’s gonna go or if anything will even happen. But, I wanna be prepared. Hence, my homework.” You lifted up your bag with that, the tape rustling in your bag.
“Oh– Oh, right,” Steve caught on to your idea, shifting slightly in his seat as he cleared his throat. “So, you’re gonna watch porn and study?”
A laugh fell past your lips, nodding your head as your hand ducked to unclip your seatbelt. “Pretty much. My parents are away for the weekend, so I’m gonna make some popcorn and write some notes.”
Steve laughed with you, nodding his head as he watched you hook your bag over your shoulder and open the car door. “Well, have a good time, I guess.” His eyebrow twitched at his words, unsure how to wish somebody luck with studying porn.
“Thanks, Harrington. And thanks for the ride.” You smiled over at him as you shut the door, offering him a wave before fishing in your bag for your key as you walked up the pathway to your front door.
Steve’s mind was whirling at a million miles a minute. Thinking of you sitting there all alone watching porn, thinking of what you’d look like with your hand inevitably slipping between your legs under your skirt.
If Steve was completely, utterly, totally honest with himself, he did always have some resemblance of undiscovered feelings for you. He couldn’t name exactly when it started, he’d thought you were pretty cute when Robin introduced the two of you. But you had a boyfriend and Steve was a gentleman.
But when you’d broken up with Trevor, things for Steve changed.
His breath hitched in his throat, and before he could stop himself he was unclicking his own seatbelt and slamming his door shut behind him.
“Hey!” He called out your name, jogging slightly to catch up with you as you’d stepped into your house. Your eyebrows furrowed as he walked up to your door, his hands slipping into his pocket as he toed up to your porch. “Uh, you– you can totally say no. But, if you’re just gonna sit there and study, I have nothing to do tonight. I can hold the popcorn bowl, answer any questions that you might have.”
Your eyebrows furrowed gently at his proposition, your tongue jutting over your lower lip as you glanced over your shoulder into your empty house. You’d always found Steve attractive, it was never a surprise to you that he did well with girls, but he was your friend. Watching porn with him would be stupid, right? You couldn’t do that. Not when the sounds of moans or slapping skin is filling up the room, or when you could just reach over–
“Sure,” You choked, completely ignoring every voice in your brain screaming no. You stepped further into your entry, holding the door open for him. “Come on in.”
The house somehow felt even quieter and emptier once Steve had shut the door behind him. Your finger flicked the big light on, your eyes squinting slightly as the warm bulb lit up the room you and Steve were both now standing in.
“The TV in here isn’t working,” You said with your back turned to Steve as you pushed your shoes off, toeing them to line up by the back door before peering over to him. “Is it weird if we watch it in my room?”
Steve laughed gently as he shrugged a shoulder, copying your actions by pushing off his own shoes. “Not necessarily, nothin’ weird about two friends researching porn together.” His hands slipped into his pockets, straightening his posture as he smiled down at you.
You nodded gently, taking your bag off your shoulder and swinging it by your side as you glanced around you slightly. “I guess you’re right. Follow me, then.” You began walking backwards, beckoning him with your hand as you made your way up the staircase toward your bedroom.
It soon dawned on you that Steve had never been inside your house before, let alone your bedroom. God, did you even make your bed this morning? What about that pile of laundry you took upstairs last night?
When you pushed your door open, you exhaled a short breath at the sight of your made bed and tidy room. You held it open for Steve, waiting until he’d passed you to click it shut.
“Nice room.” Steve observed as he perched himself on the edge of your bed, his fingers reaching out to grab a photo of you and Robin that you kept on your nightstand. You watched him smile gently at it, before catching your gaze and placing it back where it lived.
“Thank you very much,” You smiled, sitting your bag next to him as you shrugged off your uniformed vest. You crossed your room, hanging it over the back of your chair, clearing your throat as you looked over at Steve. “You can make yourself comfortable, you know.”
“Oh– Yeah, right.” He mumbled, fingers battling his own vest off as you grabbed an old sweatshirt from your wardrobe, along with a pair of your sleep shorts. You pulled the sweater over your head, manoeuvring your arms out of your t-shirt beneath it and pulled it out of the neck of your sweater.
You rounded to the other side of your bed so you were behind Steve, quickly glancing to make sure he was facing away from you as you stepped into your shorts. You were swift to pull them up before shimmying out of your skirt, taking your discarded clothes in your hands and dropping them into your laundry basket.
“You sure you wanna do this?” You joked as you made your way back to Steve’s side of the bed, glancing down at him as your fingers hovered over the zip of your bag.
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed gently as he nodded up at you, his expression reading that he’d do anything to help out a friend, that’s just the kind of guy he was. “Of course, if you’re sure then I’m happy to help.”
Your own eyebrows raised slightly as you squinted down at him, ultimately deciding if this was going to be a good idea. No, it wasn’t. But you’d already grabbed the tape and made your way over to your DVR to slip the tape in.
“Alright then,” You announced as you spun around and climbed onto your bed, crawling up it to sit against your headboard. Steve turned over his shoulder to you at your words, a small smile creeping on his lips as you patted the mattress next to yourself. “Let’s watch some porn, I guess.”
A small sound you couldn’t name escaped Steve’s throat, nodding as he swung his own legs onto your bed to crawl up to sit beside you. He sat a fair bit away from you, bringing his knees up and resting his elbows up on them. “Let’s watch some porn.”
You snorted a laugh gently as you looked up at him, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you lifted your remote to point it at the TV. Your room suddenly filling with the sound of the cheesiest attempt of sexy instrumental music, a woman in black lingerie taking over the screen that sat at the end of your bed.
The woman was gorgeous, slender and blonde with a body that you’d see on the cover of a magazine. Your eyes dialed in as you watched her straddle the man that had just come onto the screen, the close ups of their mouths and tongues moving in unison was a lot more erotic than you’d ever seen, ever even experienced.
The screen showed the man’s hands trailing up and down her body, over her breasts and settling on her back. You glanced over at Steve, who was also completely clocked in on the screen before him. He must’ve felt you staring, because his eyes met yours out of the corner of his, his attention turning to you.
“You alright over there?” He swallowed slightly, his hand rubbing over his wrist before turning back to the TV. Your eyes followed suit, watching the man’s lips wrapped around the woman’s nipple, the sound of her moans causing you to push your thighs together without realising.
“Y–Yeah, totally alright,” You huffed an awkward laugh, your arms crossing over your chest as your legs shifted beneath you. “Are you?”
He nodded over at you, his eyes wandering over your features as you intently watched the scene play out ahead of you. He lowered his knees, leaning further into the headboard as he crossed one of his legs over the other.
Your eyebrows furrowed gently, watching the man ravish the woman’s breast. Her back arching in pleasure as he messily, sloppily made out with her chest. “I didn’t know guys liked doing that.” Your voice mumbled.
“Liked what?” Steve hummed gently, his attention fixed on the sounds the woman was emitting before his head tilted down at you just as you looked up to catch his eye.
Your lips parted slightly, realising you’d said that out loud. You cleared your throat gently, your head turning back to the TV as you shrugged gently. “Y’know, he just seems to really enjoy.. Doing what he’s doing.”
“Well, he’s probably enjoying it so much ‘cause she’s loving it,” Steve explained gently, his own head tilting as he watched the man press kisses down the woman’s sternum. “Well, for some people, their nipples are super sensitive, some people really enjoy having them– Y’know, played with.”
“Hm.” You observed, thinking back to the few sexual experiences you’d had with Trevor and how he’d never paid any attention to your chest. Your arms adjusted over your chest, breath slightly hitching in your throat as you realised your own nipples were hard, a slight shiver breezing down your spine at the feeling of them brushing against your sweater.
You and Steve sat in silence as you watched the man’s head dip between the woman’s thighs. The loud, wet sounds of his tongue lapping at her core mixing with her cries and moans were beginning to feel far too much for you. All you could think about whilst watching the woman grind against her partner's face, was how badly you needed that right now.
“Did– Uh,” Steve started, his hand coming up to his face to rub across his chin as he glanced over at you, watching you transfixed on the screen. “Did Trevor ever do that to you?”
You could only scoff a laugh, shaking your head gently. “No, Trevor was very much an in and out, one and done kind of guy,” Your teeth sank into your lower lip gently, your hand lifting to push your hair behind your ear as you continued. “Maybe once, he did. But it didn't last very long, said it wasn’t his thing.”
Steve laughed down at you in disbelief, causing your neck to twist quickly to look up at him with your eyebrows gently furrowed together. “Sorry, sorry. Just find that hard to believe.” He admitted with a small shrug as he looked back at the TV, you watched his throat bob at the close up of the man’s tongue swirling around her clit.
“Do you like it?” You whispered gently, not realising the hitch in your breath that had started at the thought of Steve eating pussy. Wondering how his luscious locks of hair would feel against your thighs, his thick hands holding onto you as his tongue ravished you.
“Do I?” He broke his eyes from the screen, taking a moment to look over your expression before giving a small nod. His palm splayed against his thigh, rubbing it gently as he spoke. “Yeah, I mean, I like making whoever I’m with feel good, that gets me off. But, it is pretty hot.”
You flashed him a small smile, watching as he turned his attention back to the screen. Your hands dropped to your sides, pushing yourself to sit further up as you turned your own attention back to the screen. Watching closely as she rode out her orgasm on his fingers and his tongue, glancing back over to Steve out of the corner of your eye.
“What’s it like?” You whispered hoarsely, turning your full attention to him as he glanced over at you. “Like, being with someone like that. I mean, me and Trevor never had this kind of passion. I don’t think I’ve ever– Orgasmed from someone’s fingers before.”
Steve’s lips parted gently, his eyes darting between your own and the screen before slightly turning his body to you. “Well, it’s all about knowing what your partner wants. What gets them going, what they like, what they don’t like. When you’re with someone who knows what you want and you can really let go with, it’s sorta the best thing.”
Your lips pursed together slightly, nodding as you ran the palm of your hand across your collarbone, trying to attempt to cool down the sudden burn of your skin as your eyes wandered his face. “How d’you know what you like?”
You watched Steve’s tongue dart past his lips to trail across his lower lip, wetting it before taking in a short breath. His eyes glanced over your face, slowly trailing down your body before finding your eyes again. “Do you want to find out?” His voice was low and hearty as he spoke, causing shivers to roll down your spine.
“H–How will I find out?” You pressed quietly, lowering your hand from your shoulder to rest on your lap. Your body shifted slightly under his gaze, turning your body to his further.
Steve inhaled a short breath, his hand lowering from his thigh to press into the mattress to angle himself closer to you. You felt all of your inhibitions get sucked from your mind as he lifted his other hand to brush a fallen strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes ducking to your lips before looking back into yours. “Let me help you out, we can find out what you like together.”
It felt as if Steve had sucked the air from your lungs, your eyes fell to his lips as you nodded softly. “Yeah, okay.” You whispered gently as you inched yourself closer to him.
His hand that pushed the hair into place found your jaw, cupping it gently as he dragged his thumb against your lower lip softly. “Can I kiss you?” He asked tenderly, a complete stark difference to the lewd sound of skin slapping pouring out of the TV.
You were quick to nod, your eyes transfixed on the plush of his lips. And before you knew it, they were on yours. Tenderly taking your upper lip between his as your lashes fluttered shut, your hand finding his thigh to ground yourself as his slipped from your jaw to curl through your hair, holding you steady against him.
Just as you parted your lips to further the kiss, he’d pulled his own away. They were quick to press to the corner of your mouth, your cheek, every inch of your skin until they found the curve of your jaw. His fingers slipping to hold the back of your neck as he sucked gently on the soft skin of your neck, grazing his teeth gently against it before soothing the touch with his tongue.
Your head lulled back into his hand, giving him easier access to any part of you that he wanted to touch. Your hand squeezed his thigh, edging him on as the other slipped up from the mattress to hold onto his shoulder.
“Is this okay?” His voice murmured against your skin, earning a quick nod from you along with a soft sigh of pleasure. He hummed gently in approval, dragging his wet lips to your collarbone.
Steve’s spare hand found your lower back, pulling you closer to him as his lips practically devoured any inch of your skin that was peeking out from the neck of your sweater. You let out another pleasured sigh, your eyes opening to meet his as you felt him lift his head.
His thumb traced back and forth at the nape of your neck, watching you closely as your eyes trailed from his back down to his lips. Your hand that was glued to his thigh raised to his shoulder, and before you could second guess your actions, you were pushing yourself up onto your knees and lifting your leg over his lap.
You hesitantly settled yourself down on him, feeling very aware that you were now straddling him whilst the tape continued to play behind you. Both of his hands found refuge at your waist, you could feel the weight of his hands through the thin fabric.
“Is this okay?” You whispered softly, lifting a hand from his shoulder to push through the few strands of his hair that had fallen over his forehead. He nodded softly, huffing a small laugh through his nose which earned a small smile from you.
“Of course it’s okay,” His own voice whispered back, his hand slipping up your back slowly. Landing between your shoulder blades, leaning you closer until your chest pressed against his. Your eyes dropped to his lips, sitting only a few inches from yours. “You can do anything you want to me.”
The corner of your mouth curved into a smirk, a disbelieving laugh passing your lips gently as the gravity of the situation weighed on your shoulders. Your hand slipped up to hold his jaw, nodding gently before you lifted your chin to press your lips against his.
He let you take the lead, a content sigh falling from his against your lips. You could feel yourself melting against him, his grip tightening on your waist as your tongue parted his lips. You moaned gently into his mouth as your tongue fought against his, his hand slipping down your back to slip them both under the hem of your sweater to hold your waist.
His warm hands felt electric against your bare skin, the fabric pooling at his wrists as your hips shifted on his lap. Your breath hitched into his mouth as your core rocked against the bulge suddenly apparent to you through Steve’s denim.
Your hips began rocking back and forth slowly, a tight moan croaking in your throat with each grind, the seam of the fabric hitting your clit at the perfect angle. Steve’s hands slipped down to your hips, guiding your movements as he pulled his lips back from yours.
“Does that feel good, honey?” His lips whispered against yours hoarsely, his forehead leaning against yours as you nodded up at him. Your lips parted, your mind scrambling to find the words to say as you felt yourself clenching around nothing.
One of Steve’s hands tightened on your waist, the other slowly pushing up your side again and pulling up your sweater with it. His hand paused beneath your breast, his thumb gently rubbing against the skin as he let out a tight breath.
“You can take it off, Steve.” You whispered back softly, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as your hips came to a pause. It wasn’t lost on you that you were currently making out with your friend, about to bare yourself to him completely, but nothing about it felt weird. Somehow, it felt like this was always going to happen.
He nodded gently, pressing his lips to yours softly as his hands continued their journey of pulling your sweater up and over your head. You pulled your lips back from his reluctantly to rid the garment, lifting your arms up from his shoulders as he pulled it away from you.
But when you came out the other side, Steve’s gaze was straight back to your eyes. Offering you a warm smile as his hands placed one at your lower back, the other between your shoulder blades as he pulled you back down to him.
His lips brushed against yours softly, not kissing you yet but more just exploring the feeling of your lips against his. You sighed against his mouth at the feeling of the pique cotton of Steve’s shirt rubbing against your nipples as he held you against him.
Slowly, his grip on you tightened as his legs shifted beneath him. He sucked your upper lip between his as your arms snaked around his neck, one of his hands slipping down your body to hold your thigh as he lifted you slightly to lower you onto your back against your mattress.
Once he’d placed you down and he’d settled between your thighs, he pulled his lips from yours slowly to finally glance down at your chest. One of his hands braced beside you to hold himself up, whilst the other splayed against your waist gently rubbing his thumb against your skin. His lips pressed to the corner of your mouth, trailing along your jaw and your neck before fluttering down toward your chest.
“You’re so beautiful,” He mumbled against your skin, your fingers slipping through his hair as you looked down at him. His eyes flickered up to yours as he lifted his head up slightly, the corner of his lips turning upward. “Seriously. I think you’re beautiful.”
Just as you went to reply, he lowered his lips to your skin again. His tongue passed his lips to circle around your hardened nipple, a low sigh of pleasure rumbling from your chest. His mouth wrapped around it, latching onto the hardened peak as his hand slipped from your waist to cup your breast he was neglecting.
His thumb rubbed the soft skin on the underside of your breast, trailing up to rub back and forth against the peak as he began twisting it with his forefinger. His mouth left your breast with a pop, quick to soothe the other as your grip tightened on the strands of his hair.
“God, Steve,” You huffed as you watched him, your hips rocking up desperate to find him again. His eyes fluttered up to yours as he sucked on your nipple, releasing it with a pop before moving back to the other. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah?” He mumbled against you, earning you to quickly nod down at him. He pulled his lips from you with a small smirk, pressing into the mattress as he lifted himself to find your lips again. “We’re only getting started.”
You huffed a sigh against his lips at his words, your hands tangling in his hair as he sucked your lower lip between his, his teeth gently sinking into it before pulling back. He pressed a trail of sloppy kisses along your jaw, dipping to your collarbone, down across your chest and between your breasts.
His hands followed his movements, slipping down your body as his lips continued down your sternum until they reached your navel. His eyes flickered up to yours as he shifted backward, his hands trailing down your thighs until they reached your knees.
“Just relax, okay?” Steve spoke gently as he sat before you, your knees sat pressed together but his gentle touch was igniting a fire within you that you knew needed to be put out. “If at any time it gets too much, or you don’t like it. We can stop, yeah?”
Your teeth sank into your lower lip as your breath hitched in your throat, gently nodding as your knees fell apart for him. “I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” You smirked softly through a small laugh, watching as his fingers wrapped around your sleep shorts. You lifted your hips up, angling your legs for him so he could discard them.
“Shit,” He mumbled under his breath as he took in the sight of you before him. Laid in a pair of light coloured panties, his hands slowly inched down your thighs, rubbing the soft skin as his eyes glued to your core. “You’re so wet, already.”
He proved his observations as his palm pressed against your mound, his thumb softly circling the wet patch of your underwear that stuck to you as his eyes flickered up to yours. He watched as your head lulled back into the mattress, quick to lift to find his gaze again.
“So, I guess you can write this down for your homework,” He started as he lowered himself between your legs, pressing his lips to your knee as his thumb continued to manoeuvre against your slit.
“You like your breasts played with, you like me suckin’ on them, touching them,” You watched intently as his lips gradually pressed closer and closer to where you needed him the most. His fingers slipped to wrap around the band of your underwear, his lips brushing your inner thigh. “You like your neck being kissed, grinding yourself on me. That really got you going, hm?”
A loud, pleasured sigh left your lips as you nodded, lifting yourself up on your elbows to watch as he slowly peeled your underwear off of you. Your hips lifted again, legs following to assist him removing them from you.
“Holy shit.” Steve mumbled as he tossed your underwear somewhere beside him, his hands splaying at your inner thighs as he spread you further open for him. He pressed his lips to your mound, a gentle kiss against the hair that laid there.
He pulled back slightly, watching as he slipped his index finger slowly along your slit. Your breath hitched at the touch, his middle finger joining to spread you open for him as he hummed gently to himself. “Such a pretty pussy, too. You’re so wet, baby.”
His head leant against your thigh gently, his eyes transfixed on the way your pussy fluttered for him as he used his fingers to explore you. His eyes darting up to gauge your reaction as his middle finger found your clit.
“Fuck, Steve.” You whined in pleasure, your hips involuntarily rutting upward to find his touch. His spare hand was wrapped around the back of your thigh, a small hum passing his lips as he slipped it to rub gently against your hipbone.
“You like it when I touch your clit, add that to your list.” He spoke almost to himself, dragging his fingers to circle your entrance as his eyes left the soaked sight before him to look back up into yours.
You couldn’t bring yourself to break eye contact with him, especially when his head lifted from your thigh and settled between your legs. His tongue reaching out to circle around your throbbing clit as his middle finger shallowly pressed at your entrance.
You watched with intent, your jaw slack as he wrapped his lips around your clit, lewdly sucking on the swollen nerve as his middle finger slowly pressed inside of you.
“Oh my god.” You whined with pleasure, your elbows shaking slightly beneath you as you held yourself up to watch Steve. You felt him hum against you, letting yourself fall back against the mattress as his fingers finally started fucking you.
Steve pulled his lips off you, letting out a groan as he pulled his finger out to push his ring finger back inside you with the other. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” He murmured as his fingers resumed their actions, eyes flickering up to watch you writhe in pleasure as his fingers curled against the spongy spot inside you. “And you taste so good, holy shit.”
His mouth was back on you before you could blink, his tongue delving through your folds and licking up every drop of your arousal that was spilling out of you. He was quick to find your clit again, taking it between his lips with fever.
Both of your hands flew to his hair, tugging gently on his soft strands as your hips rocked slightly against him. Desperate to feel more of him against you, inside of you.
Steve’s hand that was holding your hip grabbed ahold of you, dragging his grip along your arm until his hand found yours tangled in his hair. He pulled your fingers out of it, his own fingers slipping through yours the second they became free. Your entwined hands fell against your stomach as his fingers picked up their pace, your moans leaving your lips now louder than the forgotten tape still playing on your TV.
“Fuck, Steve,” Your shaky voice cried out, Steve’s hand squeezing yours in encouragement as his fingers picked up their pace, continuously hitting the perfect spot inside of you. “I’m so close, fuck.”
“Come for me, baby,” He spoke against your clit, his fingers fucking into your cunt speeding up as you feel the heat building in your stomach. His eyes watch as your head rolls back into the mattress with pleasure, your hips rocking against his face. “Such a good girl for me. Let go for me, honey, come on.”
His encouragement was quick to push you over the edge, your thighs trembling around him as your grip on his hair tightened. With each curl of his fingers hitting perfectly inside of you, you were quick to finally release around him.
Steve groaned in satisfaction against you as his fingers worked you through your high, his tongue toying against your clit until your hand pulled from his hair. Your hand dropped against your stomach, your hips still rocking with his movements slightly as he slowly coaxed his fingers out of you.
“Taste so fucking good.” He pulled his lips from your clit, quick to dip his fingers between his lips to suck your arousal from his digits. He pulled them out with a small pop, steadying it at your thigh as his head dipped back between your thighs to trail his tongue through your folds, seemingly eager to collect every last drop he’d coaxed from you.
“Steve, shit.” You whined gently, lifting your head to watch him. His fingers splayed across the meat of your thigh, his tongue dipping into your entrance caused his nose to brush against your clit earning a loud cry to fall past your lips.
“Mm,” He mumbled against you, eyes opening to look up at you as he finally pulled his mouth off of you. A small smirk grew against your lips at the sight of the lower of his face glistening with your come, watching his tongue dart across his lips as his hand left your thigh to press against the mattress to lift himself back up to you. “Hi.”
You squeezed his hand that was still holding yours, your hand that was resting on your stomach coming up to hold his cheek as you let out a breathy, disbelieving laugh. “Hi.”
He matched your gentle laugh, his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand as he lowered his forehead down to your shoulder before turning his head to press his lips to your neck. “Safe to say, you enjoy getting your pussy eaten.”
“W– Steve!” You huffed at his crude words, causing his head to lift from your neck to look down at you. His eyebrows furrowed gently, but you could tell it was in a teasing manner.
“What? You did,” His lip curved into a smirk, he inched closer to you as his nose brushed against yours gently. “You loved it, hm? Getting your pretty little pussy fucked by my fingers, coming all over my face. Think you can add it to your list.”
Your teeth sank into your lower lip as your fingertips pushed through the curls on the side of his head, your eyes studying his face until they settled on his glistening lips. “Well, maybe you’re right.”
His hot breath hit your parted lips as he huffed a small laugh, his lips brushing your upper gently as he whispered against you. “You’re perfect, you know. It’s like you were made for me, so tight, just fit so perfectly inside of you,” You sighed against his mouth at his words, “And you taste so good, wish I could taste you all day.”
“Steve–” You sighed against his lips, your eyes fluttering shut at his words but you were quick to open them as you couldn’t bear not to be looking at him for a second longer.
“Do you want to taste yourself?” His hoarse voice and filthy words were probably enough to make you come all over again, your lips parted to let out a low sigh as you nodded gently.
His hand slowly pulled away from yours, the other pressing further against your mattress to settle himself on his side next to you. His arm stretched out behind your head whilst the other rested against your stomach, lowering his lips slowly down to yours.
You sighed against his lips as they finally sank into your own, his lips taking your upper hostage before releasing them, his tongue entering your mouth to coax your tongue with his. His hand slipped down your body slowly, his fingertips gently grazing your mound as your thigh fell open for him again.
He sighed into your mouth, his upper body settling closer into you as your fingers wrapped around the collar of his polo shirt. Your breath hitched against him as you felt his fingers dipping between your folds again, pushing through every curve to collect as much of your spend on his fingers before pulling his hand back up your body.
A small huff left your lips as he pulled his lips back from you, your thighs clamping together again as your tongue darted across your lower lip, tasting the remnants of you from his mouth.
“Open up, pretty girl.” He whispered softly, his eyes bearing into yours as two of his wet fingertips tapped at your lower lip gently. Your lips parted for him, tongue following as his eyes dropped to your mouth.
He dragged his fingers across your upper lip before slipping them into your mouth, a choked sound passing his throat as he watched your mouth close around his fingers. Your hand dragged from his collar to wrap around his wrist, slowly dragging your lips up and down his fingers as you sucked your arousal from them.
“Holy fuck, such a good girl,” He praised as you pulled your lips off his fingers with a pop, his hand was quick to find your waist as he pulled you closer against him. His lips brushing against yours as he spoke, “Another thing to add to your list, hm?”
“Steve,” You whispered against his lips before he could kiss you again, he pulled himself back to look down at you properly, his hand that was resting above your head lowered to brush some of your hair off your forehead.
“Yeah, baby?” He whispered back, his eyes trailing across your features before landing on your own.
You swallowed your words down gently, watching your hand as it splayed at his shoulder. “When I was with Trevor, he’d never want me to go down on him,” You watched his breath hitch in his throat, you couldn’t help sinking your lower lip into your teeth before continuing. “So, I guess I don’t really know how. I mean, I know how, but– Can you teach me? Properly?”
His lips were parted in disbelief, his hand paused on your waist at your words. You watched his mouth moving slightly but no words coming out, his eyes flickering between yours and your lips – as if he needed you to say it again.
“Can I suck your cock, please?” You whispered, leaning forward to brush your lips against his as you rolled your body into his. “Wanna make you feel as good as you made me feel.”
“Fuck, yes,” Steve managed, nodding quickly as his hand slipped up to hold the back of your head steady as he pressed his lips against yours. You felt his hips shuffling beside you, a small smirk growing against your lips. “I can teach you, baby. I said, you can do anything you want to me.”
A content sigh escaped you as your lips captured his, nodding against him as your fingers moved to wrap around the collar of his shirt to tug on it gently. He pulled his lips from yours and sat himself up slightly, pulling his shirt over his head.
He went to lean down to kiss you again, but your hand against his chest stopped him in his tracks. “God, Steve,” You mumbled gently as your eyes took in the sight before you.
Everything that you’d see of Steve everyday was beautiful. His face, his hair, his arms and his hands were all perfect. Covered in moles that kissed his skin beautifully, the curve of his jaw perfectly angled and the shape of his nose you so eagerly wanted to bite.
But seeing the rest of Steve that you didn’t see everyday, was even more beautiful. His moles and freckles danced across every inch of his chest, shoulders, arms and his stomach. His stomach that curved over the belt of his jeans ever so slightly, covered with a trail of hair that led right down to exactly where you wanted to be.
Your hand reached out to his broad shoulder, tenderly dragging your nails down to his bicep that you’d only ever seen stretched out beneath one of his t-shirts. You trailed your fingers across his chest, through the thatch of hair that covered him so perfectly.
“You’re so beautiful, Steve.” Your voice left a whisper as your eyes attempted to look at every new part of him at once, when you finally looked up to meet his eyes again he was looking at you with a look you’d never seen before.
“What?” You asked gently, pulling your hand back hesitantly from his chest but he was quick to shake his head.
He reached his hand up to find yours, pushing his fingers through your own and bringing the back of your hand to his mouth as he pressed a small kiss to the soft skin. “No, nothing. Just don’t think anyone’s ever called me beautiful before.”
“Well, then everyone else is simply blind.” Your words earned a huffed laugh from him, but you only smiled up at him as you lifted yourself up to his face. Your spare hand holding the side of his neck as your lips tenderly brushed against his, whispering softly against them. “D’you wanna maybe, sit up at the headboard? Might be easier.”
He nodded softly, pulling his hand from yours to hold the back of your head as he pressed a kiss against you. Then another, and another. “Yeah, baby. Whatever you want.”
You pulled away from him, shuffling backward to let him manoeuvre himself to pull some of the pillows you’d both been leaning on earlier to make room for himself. He settled against the headboard, his legs spread slightly as his hand reached out for you. “C’mere.”
As soon as your hand found his, he was quick to pull you into him, his hand settling at your waist. Your body pressed against his side as his lips pressed beneath your ear, sucking gently at the sensitive skin as your other hand pressed to his chest, eyes trailing down his body to the bulge in his jeans.
“You sure you wanna do this, honey?” He spoke against your skin, but instead of using your words you reached down slightly to press your palm against the strain of his jeans. His breath hitched against your skin, pulling his lips away to watch.
Your hand cupped his confined cock, slowly rubbing your hand backward and forward as you watched his stomach tensing. “Is this okay?” You whispered gently, your eyes watching your hand before looking down at him.
He nodded gently, his breath hitching in his throat as his spare hand came up to start unbuckling his belt. You watched his attempt, his shaky fingers struggling to release himself with one hand.
“Let me.” You whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling away from his side. You shuffled down his body, straightening yourself to sit between his thighs. You sat up on your knees as your hands met to unbuckle his belt, unbutton the denim and pull the zipper down.
You lowered your head, nose nuzzling against the hair against his navel as your lips pressed wet kisses against his skin. Your eyes fluttered up to his as his breath hitched, your fingers wrapping around the waist of his jeans and slowly shimmying them down.
He lifted his hips up for you, intently watching as your eyes stayed glued to his hardened cock that laid in his boxers. You pulled the denim down, crawling backwards to assist him in pulling them off completely.
Once they were dropped to the floor, your hand found the meat of his thighs. Softly rubbing your thumb back and forth against his skin, your other hand returned to palm against him. Your eyes flickered up to watch his reaction as your hand rubbed back and forth slowly through the fabric, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as your fingers wrapped around the waist of his underwear and pulled it down his thighs.
Steve’s cock was thick, it looked heavy as it sprung out of its confinement. It laid flat on his stomach, and you watched with your interest piqued as his tip glistened. Your hand reached out to wrap around his base, fingers tightening as you guided it toward you to inspect him more.
“You’re so big, baby.” Your voice whispered gently, your eyes still revelling in the feeling of how his throbbing cock felt in your hand. Your hand slowly dragged up his length, your thumb reaching out to smear the pre-cum that he’d leaked over him as your eyes met his.
“F–Fuck,” His voice croaked, his hand quick to push through your hair as his teeth left bite marks in his swollen lower lip. “You’re doing well, honey. Just take what you can, okay? Shit.” He cursed under his breath, silently thinking to himself how he won’t last long at all with this sight before him.
You nodded gently, your hand slipping down his length and shallowly pumping at his base. You lowered your head, running your tongue slowly up his cock until it circled at his tip, collecting his spend on your tongue, quick to swallow it down.
His fingers collected some strands of your hair that had fallen over your face as your lips wrapped around his tip, your hand still pumping his cock slowly. Your brows furrowed gently as your jaw stretched, your mouth not used to taking anything near the size of Steve.
“That’s it, such a good girl,” He hummed, his fingertips tracing back and forth on your scalp as he watched you. “Y–You can spit on it, if you want. Make it easier.”
You pulled yourself off of him, a small sigh passing your lips as you did. Your wrist twisted as you pumped his length, lowering your head to his tip as you pooled saliva in your mouth and let it fall from between your lips to his tip. You take him back in your mouth, humming a small moan against him as your tongue explores the feeling of him between your lips.
His head snapped back against the headboard as you sank further onto his cock, your hand squeezing his thigh as you picked up your pace. His moans hit your ear like honey as you felt him taking up more space in your mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as you huffed your breath through your nose.
“Look at you, honey. Taking my cock so well, fuck.” His words only spurred you on, your hand squeezing his length as it pumped the inches of him that you couldn’t fit in your mouth.
He watched in disbelief, the sight of your spit and his pre-come pooling at the corners of your mouth. His hips rocked up slightly, earning your grip on his thigh to tighten as your lips inched down his length.
“Fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last long– You look so fucking– Shit.” Steve whined slightly as his grip on your head tightened, guiding your movements as you found your groove and picked up the pace.
You pulled yourself off him, opening your eyes to look up at him as your fist bobbed up and down his cock. Another trail of your saliva passed your lips, landing on his tip as your thumb swiped it across his tip. Your hand pulled his cock to the side as your lips lowered to his balls, your wet lips sucking on them slightly before they found the base of his cock, dragging up his length as your tongue twirled around his sensitive tip.
Steve’s lips parted in astonishment, his stomach tightening as his moans broke past his lips in a small plea. “Fuck, you’re doing so good– I’m so close, baby.”
“I want you to come for me, Steve,” You spoke gently against his tip, your lips sucking the tender skin as your hand picked up his pace. “Come in my mouth, I don't care. I wanna taste you.”
With that, you sank yourself back down on him, taking as much of his length as you could manage. Breathing through your nose, you inched down further, your head bobbing at a steady pace.
Your nose hit your hand that was circled around the base of his cock, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. You felt your eyes watering as they looked up at him, slowly pulling your hand down to hold his thigh as his hips jerked upward slightly, fucking into your mouth.
“Fuck– I’m gonna come, holy fuck–” Steve’s head hit the headboard again, but was quick to pull his gaze back to you. “Such a good girl for me, baby.” His thumb rubbed against your temple as you pulled your lips back his cock slightly, your head bobbing to match the thrust of his hips.
You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, and the spurt of his warm, thick come depositing into your mouth. You moaned against him at the feeling, your spare hand holding onto his hip as the other kept its pace, letting him fuck your hand and your mouth as you swallowed down everything he was offering you.
“Fuck,” He spoke through heavy breaths, his hand guiding your head off of him slowly. You pulled your lips off of him with a small pop of your mouth, watching as your hand followed suit. You brought it up to your mouth, wiping the corner of it on the back of your hand.
“Was that okay?” You asked gently as you sat between his thighs, your eyes flickering between his flagging cock and the fucked out look on his face.
He could only manage a small laugh, his arm reaching out for you which you were quick to accept. You crawled up his body, nestling yourself under his shoulder and resting your leg over his as his arm engulfed you.
“Okay? That was incredible, didn’t even need my help.” His words were gentle as his palm rubbed at your waist, his other hand coming to brush strands of your hair away that had stuck to your forehead.
Your hand settled at his chest, pushing yourself up and inching closer to his face. You paused, not knowing whether to kiss him now that your deal was over, Steve was your friend. Sure, he’d just given you the best orgasm of your life but you’d have to see him at work tomorrow.
But you were broken from your thoughts as his hand slipped to your jaw, holding you steady as his lips brushed yours tenderly. His tongue passing between your lips despite the fact he’d just come in your mouth. His grip on you tightened, squeezing you gently before pulling back slightly.
“Do you have a pen? And paper?” He whispered against your lips gently, causing you to let out a small laugh. You nodded gently, pressing your hand to his chest to lift yourself up and lean over to your bedside table, opening the drawer for your notebook and pen.
The two of you sat up as you settled back next to him, his arm wrapping comfortably around your waist as he pulled you into him. His lips pressed gentle kisses against your shoulder as he sat behind you, watching as you flicked the notebook onto a new page.
“Alright, what am I writing then?” You spoke gently, leaning into his touch as you tilted your head aside to let his lips touch wherever he wanted to.
He huffed a small laugh from behind you, fingers splaying at your waist as he mumbled against your skin. “Thought you could start writing your notes whilst they’re fresh in your brain. Now, what did you like?”
You shook your head gently, chin tucking into your chest as you giggled gently at his words. He laughed along with you, lips brushing your skin as he spoke against you. “You like it when I kiss your neck, you like it when you fuck yourself on my face,” You feel your skin burning at his words, unable to help the smirk that’s growing against your lips even though he can’t see it. “I think you liked sucking my cock, too. You were a natural.”
You played along with his words, writing down everything he was listing and the things he’d mentioned before. Once you reached the end of the list you leant forward slightly, turning to look at him as you spoke gently. “Anything else?”
“Oh, we’ll cover that next time, baby. Don’t worry about that.” He grinned at you, an eyebrow quirking as his hand tangled in your hair to pull your lips against his. You huffed a laugh against him, before mumbling against his lips.
“Next time?” You pulled back gently, not before pressing a kiss to his lips. You watched him nod down at you as his hand slipped from your hair to settle back down at your waist.
“Well, yeah, we have a lot to get through. Thank God you stole that tape.”
THE MOMENT STEVE TALKED ABOUT….WHEN HE REALIZED HE HAD A CRUSH ON READER
blaize ilysm
senior year steve for your viewing pleasure
He never told anyone, but school had gotten a lot harder since November of ‘83. And it wasn’t just the headaches, or migraines, or whatever— it was little things. Like all of the times he’d have to say huh? to the teacher and the rest of the class would laugh. He wasn’t trying to be funny, he just couldn’t hear.
He’s get detention for being disrespectful, and he’d go like he actually deserved it. Tommy and Carol were in there a lot, writing sentences the same way he was. I will listen in class. I will listen in class. I will listen in class. Three pages, front and back.
It was letters and numbers swimming in textbooks, and the way words got fuzzy across the room on the chalkboard. When he tried to read Of Mice and Men for a book report, his brain ached as he read the same paragraph four times over before giving up and calling Nancy.
Hey, Nance, you’ve read this book, right? I just can’t get through it.
And in Anatomy, there you were. Well, you, Carol, and Tina. They’d usually talk to him, but when you were around it was like he didn’t exist, because apparently acknowledging his existence was a grave offense. “Sorry, you know how she is,” Carol would say. “When she gets stuck on something, she stays stuck.”
It was getting towards the end of the year, and things just felt wrong. He hadn’t even bothered to run for Prom King, even though it had felt like the most important thing in the world just a little over a year prior. His mailbox was filled with rejections— colleges, scholarships, jobs. What kind of schmuck couldn’t even get a job at Bradley’s?
Tommy and Carol were staying, but they had their own thing going. Carol was going to cosmetology school, Tommy would work at his dad’s dealership. They’d probably get married soon, and they’d forget all about their sad, loser friend.
He wanted to know where it all went wrong. He picked at his cuticles while Stacey Cooper presented about the nervous system with one of her cheer friends. Tearing at raw skin in a way that he hadn’t done since he was a kid.
Yesterday he’d fumbled his way through a presentation on the cardiovascular system. He’d actually worked really hard on it, but you couldn’t tell from his clunky poster board or the way he had to squint at his own handwriting. When he mispronounced words or read things wrong from his notebook paper and an asshole from the wrestling team laughed, you slapped the guy’s arm and told him to shut the fuck up.
He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.
Maybe he’d been an asshole. Well, there wasn’t a maybe about it. He had been an asshole, he knew that. He’d been jealous, and possessive and a total narcissistic dickhead. He knew you were into him, and he just couldn’t be content with it. He let you follow him like a sad little puppy begging for scraps, and went through girls like that meant nothing. He tossed you aside like you meant nothing.
You deserved to hate him, he knew that. And still you’d defended him so he wouldn’t get laughed at in front of the entire class.
When Stacey Cooper sat down to scattered, bored applause, you stood up and carried a pink poster board to the front of the class.
“So, I’m going to be presenting about the endocrine system, which basically sends hormones to different organs in our bodies,” you began, with a little tap of your finger on the bubble letters you’d drawn on the board. “And I’m going to be saying testes and ovaries and there are anatomical diagrams on the poster board, so grow up.”
He laughed under his breath and you looked at him for the briefest second. It felt like things just locked into place when your eyes fell on his. You swallowed, pushed your hair back behind your ear, and went onto talking about the obituary gland, or something. It all just turned to cotton candy.
It had been over a year, of course he missed you. But it had never hit him all at once before. He missed your laugh, he missed your music taste, he missed the nights where you’d sneak in through his basement and crawl into bed beside him. He missed clumsily crawling the trellis to your bedroom to do the same.
It was always so comforting, to just lay next to someone without any expectations for more. There was your silent yearning, but you were both more than happy to just share his bed and whisper random thoughts into the night.
You were so frustratingly smart, and stubborn, and beautiful. He’d always loved you, or else he wouldn’t have been so jealous. So why hadn’t he just done something about it? Why had he pushed and pushed until you had no choice but to give up on him?
He wanted things to be different. He wanted to go back in time to Junior year, grab himself by the shoulders, and shake. He wanted to fix things, to undo the years of hurt he’d made you endure. To unspool every sour thought in your brain and replace it with something kinder, something true.
Truth: Steve Harrington was a scared boy. Steve Harrington is a scared boy. Steve Harrington is scared of things that are worth being scared of. The government. Monsters. The bright flash of colors behind his eyes when the plate hit his skull, the days where he feels like his brain might implode.
Truth: You’re standing in the front of the class and you’re smiling as you talk about adrenaline. You’re wearing a yellow shirt and white keds that you drew flowers on. Your hair keeps falling into your face and he wants to reach into the bottom of his backpack and grab the ponytail holder that’s been crushed beneath his textbooks since Sophomore year, just for you. You’re the most beautiful girl he thinks he’s ever seen, ever will see.
Truth: Steve Harrington is an idiot for not loving you back before. Steve Harrington is an idiot for loving you back now.
hi! I read through your rules and I hope I’m getting this request right by you!
I was wondering if you could maybe write experienced Steve Harrington with less than experienced reader who’s never really been with someone who isn’t self centered and looking out for their own pleasure? in which reader just sort of expects all sex to be unfulfilling and Steve’s like ??? absolutely not
only if you’re up to it of course! if this request doesn’t interest you that’s totally okay, love ur work!
pairing: steve harrington x reader
summary: steve wows you without realizing it
contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. unedited sorry i wrote in a rush before work </3
You're going through the motions: first a movie spent tucked into Steve's side on the sofa, his hand running over your hip and dipping dangerously low. Then slow, languid smiles at each other as the credits roll, then a nudge of his nose against yours and a kiss. Then another, and another, and another until his large hands grab your hips, dragging you into his lap and winding around your back to settle against your rear, thumbs breaching the hem of your shirt to trace against your skin. You're loving the kissing- most of the men you've been with don't drag it out this far, and they're already balls-deep by now. But Steve's licking into your mouth so lazily and sensually that you're feeling something fluttering beneath your stomach, his spit-slicked lips pushing and pulling and sucking at your own as his breathing comes ragged against your mouth.
It makes you feel loved. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine at the feeling, and your fingers curl into his shirt, gripping the thin fabric tightly as your knuckles press against his warm torso. Your hips jerk involuntarily, dragging your aching core against his jeans and he grunts against your mouth, one hand smoothing up your back to cradle the nape of your neck.
"Are you-" He can't get the words out before kissing you again, melting into another messy interlocking of lips before he starts again, "Do you want to-"
"Yeah," You nod clumsily, pressing your neck into his palm so that he can push it forwards, mashing your face against his for another kiss, "Please- Steve, I want you to- I want to- mmh."
Unnecessary words are drowned out by the lewd smacking of lips against lips, his tongue dragging against yours in a way that makes the very fabric of your soul go molten, dripping down to your center and making it sting. You need him, suddenly all of this touching and kissing is making you need Steve instead of being just okay with him using your body to get off. You think you might even be able to get off this time, if he'll just let you grind against his thigh some more-
The second you think it, he shifts. He lifts you first, then puts his weight above yours and lowers you onto the couch cushions. It's understandable- he needs to plant his knees against the seat to be able to plant himself between your legs with enough leverage to go at his desired pace, but you mourn the lack of his thigh, muscular thigh between your own legs as your center settles for empty space.
He kisses you again, even though you're laying down. You feel a hand palm at your hip, and you shift it into his grip so that he can slide your shorts and panties down your leg easier. He must like kissing- he won't stop slotting his mouth over yours and licking into it like he's tasting ambrosia. He's panting, heavy, ragged breaths that fall against your mouth and as much as you'd like to be disgusted by the feeling it makes everything hotter. He sounds desperate, and you wonder why he's beating around the bush so much instead of just sticking it in already.
You feel the bare skin of your backside hit the sofa, and prepare for the stretch. Maybe he'll be nice and finger you first, but you're not sure it'll help against the bulge you've seen clear-as-day through his jeans. He's undeniably hung and you're a little nervous about bleeding despite having done this before.
You realize that despite his hands roving all over your body, they haven't retreated to his own. You reach down to paw at his jeans, your hand brushing against his stiff cock begging to be released from its restraints. He groans- it's more of a moan, really, as his hips jump into your hand, and you suddenly struggle to get his jeans off as he presses his weight heavily, uncontrollably against your palm.
"Jesus," He grunts, "Leave it- wait, or I'll- hnngh, I'll finish too fast."
"It's okay," You hum, suddenly intent on palming him to completion without ever having to stretch your poor pussy out around his sizeable dick, "You can, I don't mind."
"I do," He pants, brushing your hand away though his hips fall to your thigh, "Just- just let me- wait."
He shifts his weight and starts at the buttons on your shirt.
Your stomach clenches as he pries them apart, but you had worn a pretty, lacy bra and you suppose it's not a crime for him to want to look at the way it hugs your breasts perfectly. It's when he reaches for the clasp at the back that you squirm, "No- no, wait, they're- leave it on."
He whines.
He whines, it's a plaintive sound against your lips as he presses kisses to your mouth through your protests, "Hm? Why?"
You don't know how to sexily describe the way your boobs will sag once you take the bra off. It's a push-up and it's holding them together for dear life, if Steve unclasps it they're going to go in opposite directions.
"Um, it's- they look nicer. With it on." You murmur, mortification stinging at your cheeks.
"They feel better with it off, though," Steve bargains, his pretty brown eyes blinking at you as he hovers inches away from your mouth, "But- if you don't want to, we don't-"
"It's okay." You realize with an awkward stutter in your arousal that he's going to fuck them. The lace of your bra would grate awfully against his cock if he's planning on pushing them together and fucking the space between them, and you don't want the fabric ruined so you reach around to unclasp it yourself, praying he's not too grossed-out by the way they fall from the confines of their padding.
As soon as your bra hits the floor, he's wrenching his mouth off of yours and latching it firmly against one of your nipples. The shock makes you jolt, an unbecoming squeak escaping your lips as Steve begins spreading warm, wet kisses across your breast, sucking your nipple into his mouth every time he strays too far.
It's a rush of pleasure all at once, and at the way you writhe beneath him he pulls himself off of your tit.
"Are you okay?" He asks, worry tinging his voice. The air is cold against your spit-soaked nipple, and you're torn between wondering why he'd bothered to kiss it at all and wishing he'd just shut up and do it again.
"I'm- what? it's fine," You blabber, chest heaving, "Um- what are you doing?"
"I'm-" He pauses, considering whether or not he wants to say the words aloud, "Do you not like it?"
"I like it," You admit, suddenly shy beneath his intense gaze as he hovers above you, "Do... do you like it?"
"Yeah, I like it." He almost laughs, a soft huff of air, "I like it. I like the way it makes you-" He runs a feather-light finger across your arched back, right up your spine until you writhe, "-shiver like that. And it's-" His ears slowly blaze red, "I like it."
"Oh." You hum, warm-cheeked and dizzy, "Okay."
"Is it.. okay? Can I-?" Steve asks, nodding down at your chest.
"Yeah," You nod vigorously, "If you want-"
The second the words fall from your lips, he cranes his neck down to plant sticky kisses between your breasts. They're addicting, and you arch your entire body into them until you feel yourself leaking slick against the couch. It was going to get messy anyways- you hope the Harringtons have a good dry cleaner.
This time when you pry at the zipper of his jeans it's not for him, it's for you. You're actually aching now, your core throbbing at the thought of having him inside of you even though it's still intimidating. You don't normally have a lot of fun with a man between your legs but this time you're ready, this time you're excited and if he keeps sucking on your nipple like he's doing now it's going to start getting physically painful to be empty. So you shove his pants down around his thighs, suddenly endeared by the way he shimmies to help you, and you take his cock in your hand.
He nearly folds the second you put your palm against it. He bites- bites your tit, and you squeeze him out of reflex, his hips jerking persistently into your hand while you line him up against your slit. You expect there to be a sting, a pull, a tear but he slides in with only a little bit of a stretch, a testament to how wet he's gotten you with his mouth alone.
He feels incredible inside of you. You're fairly certain that half of your pleasure is from his mouth on your tits alone but there's no denying that he knows how to use his cock. His fingers, too, you realize with a wanton moan, as they smooth down your stomach and begin rubbing at your clit.
Steve knows what he's doing.
You hadn't realized how lackluster the other men you'd been with were until right this minute, but Steve knows what he's doing. He's touching you in all the right places, and it doesn't seem to be detracting from his own pleasure at all, if his ragged pants against your chest are anything to go by. He licks a fat stripe up your neck, like he can't bear to take his mouth off of you for even a second, and his lips press to your own again, his voice higher-pitched and nearly whiny into the kiss.
"Fuck, you feel so fucking good," He whimpers, forcing his hips to move slower than he wants them to so that he doesn't hurt you, "Fuck, you're- ohmyfuckinggod you're so warm and fucking wet. And your-" His speech peters off to a groan as he ducks back down to take your tit into his mouth again, then trails kisses up your neck until he lands in the hollow of your throat, "You're so warm, like- everywhere."
"Steve," You gasp, his fingers toying with your clit and nearly pushing you over the edge already- really pleasuring you, and not just lazily squeezing your ass while he thrusts into your cunt, "Steve, please, don't- don't stop please, please-"
He groans headily against your throat, his tongue flat against your neck as he pants, "I won't- how could I? How could I fucking stop- shit," He catches something, goes after it like a dog on the hunt, his hips pounding against yours faster now, his fingers more insistent as they put pressure against your stinging clit. It works, it works so well that your stomach clenches and you chase after your own release with the desperation of someone who's been denied it their entire life. You cum, you cum around his cock and on his fingers- Steve Harrington makes you cum.
You're screaming. It's a little embarrassing, really, but no one's ever touched you like this before, and he muffles the sound with his mouth. His lips meet yours again and he drinks in your ecstasy, fucking your release out of you with vigor as his own crests with yours.
You fuck each other dry, you fuck each other's orgasms until you're nothing but shaky, panting, sweaty messes, and Steve never stops kissing you. They get less frenetic, sure, but his lips rest against yours, eyes fluttered shut, nose against your own, lips flush to yours like he can't let them separate.
"Sorry," He breathes, speaking against your mouth, "That was kind of fast."
You kiss him for it, for apologizing for giving you the best night of your life, for touching your clit and sucking at your bare breasts and kissing you the whole way through. He groans, letting you lead the kiss as he melts into the couch cushions beside you.
"Thank you," You pant, "You- I got off."
"I know," His brows furrow, "I felt it. Do you- does that not normally happen?"
"No," You snort, "No one's... touched me like that before. That was really good."
He jerks his head back, perplexed, "You've been with people who haven't touched you?"
"Not like that," You huff, "That was amazing."
"That was nothing," He shrugs, "I could do more. We could do more, next time- or- or tonight, or whenever you want."
"Tonight?" You ask, and despite the utter exhaustion clinging to your bones a spark of intrigue flickers in your gut, "We can- if you want, we can do that. Tonight."
"Tonight," He nods, a soft smile on his face as he presses a spit-soaked kiss to your top lip, a quiet suctioning sound passed between you as he pulls away, "But rest for now- we can wait until you stop shaking."
do not ask me why I think this but epilogue steve, who finally buys his forest hills house and works full time at hawkins middle school and is dating around and not so patiently waiting to find His Person, most definitely has the cutest dalmatian. she’s perfectly trained, always by his side, protects him to the ends of the earth, and perks up the second she hears steve’s key in the lock when he comes home from work.
and steve loves coming home to her — the first thing he does is drop his work bag at the door and get down to her level so he can give her belly rubs and ear scratches. “oh, there’s my girl, huh? how was your day, sweetheart? you miss me? bet I missed you more. would hang out with you all day if I could.”
this may be too much to be thinking about at 4pm on a weekday butttttt mean!steve fucking you into dumbness again 😵💫
and ofc he’s teasing and being so evil about it when you’re mumbling and just slurring incoherent gibberish into his chest/the mattress
“why don’t you use your words, honey?”
“what? speak up, baby. i can’t understand you.”
and kissing away your whines and pressing the softest little kisses to your cheeks and temple as if he’s not railing you stupid
“oh, you’re gone, huh?”
thank you for coming to my tedtalk
“oh, you’re gone, huh?” just killed me dead. he’s so proud of himself when he can get your big beautiful brain to turn off. you always act like such a challenge until he has you on your back with your legs rucked up over his shoulders <3 he loves how silly you get!! how you start slurring your words and your eyes get all unfocused and how you drool a little because you can’t keep your gorgeous mouth shut <3 he fucks you so mean, but he’s still so sweet with you <3 kisses you sweetly, tells you that you’re so beautiful, especially when you’re all fucked out under him. let him do all the work! you and your sweet, dirty mind can take a break for now 🫶🏻
Tags: MDNI, SMUT, oral (m receiving), cum eating, spitting, little dry humping, slightly sub!steve
Notes: discovered a new kink and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem!!!!! I will say I feel like I’m so bad at writing blow jobs but I just could not get this out my head. ALSO love the idea of Steve being timidly freaky and asking you to do things all shy like aaah
Masterlist
You and Steve were tangled together over his bedsheets, hands grabbing at each other's flesh through your clothes, tongues licking into your mouths in the most embarrassingly messy way. But you didn’t care. Not when it felt this good to have your bodies pressed together.
One of Steve’s jean covered thighs slotted in between your legs, you breathed deep into his mouth as you ground your needy cunt onto him, only the cotton of your panties between you and his denim. Steve was also rubbing his hardening cock over the bare skin of your thigh, eating every noise you made like he was hungry for it.
“Mmm baby,” he hummed against your lips. “I want you to do something for me.”
“Anything for you, Stevie,” you replied, your words coated in a whine as you circled your hips against him harder.
“Want you to suck me off.” Steve matched the rhythm of his hips with yours.
You chuckled, “is that it?”
Did he really need to ask? As if you hadn’t done it a hundred times over.
“No,” he laughed but there was something in it that sounded a little shy, “there’s more.”
You used your grip on his hair to pull his face back from yours. You wanted to look him in the eye.
“Tell me what you want.”
Steve let out a shaky breath as your eyes bore into his. He had that puppy dog look in his eyes. Not like he was trying to get whatever he wanted, more like he was a little sheepish about whatever it was.
“I was thinking,” he started speaking cautiously, “after I… finish, you could–“ he paused to swallow the build up of saliva in his mouth, “–feed it to me.”
You looked at him slightly confused, the feeling of him agaisnt you making your brain a little slow at processing. “What do you mean?”
Steve was really hoping you’d get the jist of it, he felt a little embarrassed having to explain it in detail.
He took in a long breath, organising the words in his head before he spoke. “After I cum in your mouth,” he said slowly, “don’t swallow it all, and then…” Steve tried to mime a feeding motion into his mouth rather than saying the words.
“You want me to spit your cum in your mouth,” you said matter of factly.
“Well when you say it like that it sounds weird.” He scrunched up his face like he was disgusted, even though what you said made his cock twitch in his jeans.
“Hey, no it doesn’t, it’s not weird,” you reassured him. “I think it’s actually kinda hot.”
“Y–you do?”
“Yeah.” You realised that through your conversation, both of you had halted your movements – you started grinding against Steve again. “But I wanna know why.”
“Why what?” Steve questioned, his hands on your hips, encouraging them.
“Why you want me to do it.”
“Does there have to be reason?”
“Well, isn’t there? There must be something that gave you the idea.”
“Hm…” He thought about it for a moment. “I guess I’m just… curious.”
You nodded your head at him in acknowledgment but also to get him to keep going.
“I can taste it a little when you kiss me after and you know how much I love the taste of you.” He stroked over your bottom lip with his thumb. “So, I wanna try me.”
“You’ve never tried to do it yourself?”
“Oh honey, I cannot bend like that.”
You gave him a playful hit on the chest. “No,” you laughed. “Not like that! I mean when you jerk off and it gets on your hand… you’ve never…” Your voice tailed off as it got lower, the image in your head of what you were describing made your hips chase some extra friction.
Steve frowned, tilting his head to the side as if you had just suggested something he had never before even considered. “No… Ha–have you?”
You nodded, biting your lip to hold back the deep whimpers building up from your core.
“Well, remind me to get you to show me that another time,” Steve smirked.
You rolled your eyes at him but there was a glint in them that told him you would do it.
“Anyways,” Steve continued. “I also think it would be super hot for you to spit in my mouth, you know, cum or no cum,” he said, his tone much more casual than before – he was relaxing into it.
You chuckled lightly at Steve. You loved when he opened up to you about his desires. When you first met Steve he was pretty vanilla, and boy did he make that your favourite flavour. But you two gradually discovered new and interesting ways to get each other off, to make love to each other, to fuck each other. It was excitingly intimate revealing those parts of you to one another.
No more than ten minutes later, you had Steve flat on his back on the bed. You had stripped him from the waist down. His shirt bunched up all the way to his arm pits from where you had explored the peaks and troughs of his chest with your delicate yet needy hands.
Your mouth moved hungrily up and down his cock. One hand griped his hip, holding it down. The other reached up his gorgeously hairy chest, massaging at his pecks. Steve’s hand held yours firm agaisnt his chest, his other hand tangled in a mess in your hair as he helped to fuck his desperate length into your warm mouth.
“Aah–oh shit–hmm, baby…”
You could already taste him, you did from the moment you first licked at his tip, precum beading at the top. The thought of giving the taste to Steve, showing him that deep part of himself, made you so wet. You could feel your needy clit throbbing between your legs as you sucked his cock into your mouth. You moaned around him as you took each inch of him, vibrating down his shaft.
“Your mouth’s so good baby, you’re doing so good, so fucking good f’me.”
Steve twitched in your mouth as he forced your head back and forth a little harder.
“Can’t last much longer, gonna cum in your pretty mouth, yeah, you gotta keep it all in there for me.”
You hummed around him in agreement.
“Hmm, just a little more–ugh…uugh–fuck–oh shit, I’m cumming.”
Even with his warning, the shock of him spurting out into your throat made you swallow a bit of him as a reflex.
Steve moved your head back so the tip of his cock was just past your lips.
“Keep it for me, please, need to taste it.”
You took as much as you could before it filled your cheeks to the brim. You pulled your head back out of Steve’s grasp.
You slowly climbed up his body. His eyes locked on yours and he looked almost scared. You gave him a raised brow as a subtle ask if this was still okay. He nodded, a small whimper escaping him as he did.
You closed the final distance, kneeling with your legs either side of his hips, closing him in. You leant over him and held his chin. He looked up at you as if you were the only thing he’d ever seen. He slowly parted his lips until his jaw hung open, waiting, wanting. His eyes flicked between your wide pupils and where you held his release inside you, a drip spilling out from the corner of your mouth like you couldn’t contain him.
Steve squirmed beneath you, you were teasing him and he knew it, denying him the thing he felt so embarrassed asking for. As if to try and break you, he extended his tongue out. Another whimper left him as he did, his eyes holding yours a little longer, pleading with you to just do it. He felt his cock twitch with anticipation.
You softly stroked his jaw as you held his gaze and opened your mouth to let the liquid drip out of you and into Steve’s mouth.
At the first touch on his tongue, Steve’s eye went wide, and then rolled back as he groaned. After everything had transferred to him, you spat any residual fluids forcefully into his mouth.
You watched has he closed his mouth. His Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed that delicious liquid. It was no doubt diluted by your own saliva, the beautiful mix of the two of you dancing on his tongue.
You lowered your hips down. Your still clothed core pressed against his still very hard cock and you rocked back and forth over it, finally getting some friction of your own. You continued watching Steve as you moved. He parted his lips again and ran his tounge over them like he was savouring every last drop.
“Did you like it?” You said, your voice low, coated in arousal – and him.
“Hmm,” Steve replied with a hum, nodding his head slowly.
The pathetic look on his face faded as a smirk grew on his glistening lips.
Suddenly Steve flipped you so you were now under him, his hips pressing hard into you as he helped you chase the feeling of him.
“Now I gotta see who tastes better.”
You scoffed at him, but it turned into a whine as he rolled his hips and his head nudged at your clit through your underwear.
“You really think you taste better than me?”
“I’ll need to get a good taste so I can compare.”
“You mean you don’t remember how I taste?” you said with exaggerated shock.
“It never hurts to be reminded…”
AN: Thank you for over 200 followers!!! Love you guys <3 I wanna write more of Steve asking you to do freaky stuff but like in a sweet way!!! Any ideas???
“leonnn, I c-can’t-,”you sobbed, tears streaking your face.
your head rolled back into the pillows as leon thrusted deeper. he had you on your back, his arms holding your legs apart. his cock was buried to the hilt inside your puffy pussy.
he hasn’t stopped thrusting. not after your pussy clenched around him like a vice the first, or third time. not after your nails clawed into his back, guaranteed to leave marks. not even after you started crying.
“no no no no, baby, please,” he whimpered, burying his face in your neck. “I wanna cum- baby, please, I’m so so so close!”
poor thing. your pussy was spasming violently around him, desperate to milk his cock. it wasn’t until a gush of squirt splattered against his lower abdomen that he slowed down.
leon whined, high and needy, watching as you made a mess on his cock. he leaned up, his eyes hooded as he looked down to where your pussy was stretched around his cock. your clit was twitching. “you made a mess,” his voice cracked.
as if his cock wasn’t enough, his thumb reached down to rub your clit. small circles pressed against the swollen pearl. “messy girl…” he murmured. “I’m doing good, huh?”
his hips moved slower, but god, he was going deeper. his cheeks were flushed a soft pink as he fucked into you. “you like it, baby? you gonna cum again?” he moaned.
“nghh…! yes, I like it!” you cried out. his large hand rested against your lower stomach, right over the bulge of his cock.
“fuck, you can see it right here,” he said, his thumb tracing the imprint of his cock in your womb. “look, baby, you can see me inside you.”
your cunt betrayed you, clenching and gushing all over again. a creamy ring of cum formed at the base of his cock. leon winced, your pussy feeling tighter this time. he bit his lip, his thrusts faltering.
“f-fuck…!” he whined. one final thrust before he held you against him. hot, white ropes of cum filled you up. heavy breathing filled your ear.
leon pulled away, pulling his cock out to watch his cum drip out of you. you whimpered, feeling it glide down your inner thighs.
Being ‘just friends’ with Steve is easy until it’s not.
wc: 5k
warnings: 18+ | season five steve, flirting, tension, semi sneaking around, semi public unprotected p in v smut in The Squawk, praise kink, big dick steve talking you through it, cream pie, a little rovicki angst with the beginnings of ronance. steve slandering Beetlejuice because i know he would hate that movie.
author’s note: i don’t know what to tell you, this is pure smut. my ovulation has turned me into a rabid animal.
It was hard not to notice Steve Harrington. Everyone did.
Especially when he’s sitting across from you in the studio on a worn down rolling chair, with legs spread wide in tight fitting denim. His big hands work the rubix cube with the utmost concentration, forearms flexing underneath the pushed up sleeves of his worn-in WSQK sweater. Every flick of his wrist stretches the fabric over his broad shoulders with each movement, as long deft fingers move rapidly to solve the puzzle in small clicks of plastic. Concentrated eyebrows furrow under that one swoop of hair that won’t just stay back, as he very badly pretends to listen to Robin’s regaling of another fight with Vickie about Nancy for the third time tonight.
The air around him has always rivaled the kind of humidity that suffocates your skin on the hottest Indiana summer day. A palpable energy that's buzzed around the two of you since Robin introduced you at one of Rick’s parties a few months ago. It’s the kind of chemistry that’s recently become very hard to ignore as introductions turned into third wheeling late night shifts at the squawk, and regular invitations to movie nights at their shared apartment. The biggest culprit of them all though? Steve’s incessant need to always drive you home. It doesn’t matter to him how late it is, or out of his way it is, even if it’s a blizzard or a torrential downpour — walking or catching the bus is never an option. Not if he has anything to do with it.
The quiet conversations that happen inside his BMW are always easy, even a little bit flirty when Robin isn’t around. On those nights, he makes it a point to rest his hand on the stick shift so close to your thighs they search for each other, squirming in his leather seat. Those are the ones that always end with him parked in front of your place for hours. Both of you losing track of time talking about anything and everything while learning those little things about each other that turn into something bigger over time. Unfortunately for you, that time feels a lot like now, and the silent promise to never act on whatever this is starting to feel nearly impossible to keep.
Steve’s eyes flit towards you for no particular reason, catching you staring, sparking something inside of them that warms deep in your belly. Something unmistakably dangerous.
Forcing yourself to look away, embarrassment blooms on your cheeks as you clear your throat with a shake of your head. But it doesn’t take long for your eyes to find their way back to him because it’s all they seem to want to do these days. With one side of his mouth tugged up, his full attention is on you now while his fingers don’t stop their mission to finish the puzzle he’s solved a million times before. Something about that has you biting the fat of your bottom lip, shifting in your seat perched on the side of his desk.
The whites of his teeth shine in a playful flirty grin as he rocks back in his chair, spreading his legs wider, earning that roll of your eyes he was looking for. Fast clicks of the rubix cube catch louder in your ears as all of the colors line up perfectly in his hands, and that grin on his stupidly handsome face turns into a proud beam like its the first time he’s accomplished this feat.
”Still got it!” He winks, tossing the toy up casually before catching it.
”Were you even listening to me, Dingus?” Robin hisses, smacking the cube out of his hand and you try not to giggle at the dejected look on his face that quickly turns into its factory setting of annoyance.
”Yeah, I was listening to the story you’ve told me three times today.” He snaps, leaning over to grab the toy off the ground, almost falling when the chair threatens to go off kilter. “Maybe, just maybe there’s a reason Vickie keeps getting mad.”
You’ve watched them have this conversation at least once a week for the past month where Steve tiptoes around getting Robin to admit her inconvenient crush on Nancy Wheeler.
“Hey! Who’s side are you on here?” She snaps, with a glare that wrinkles the top of her forehead.
Steve opens his mouth to reply but she quickly cuts him off before he even has a chance.
“You know what, no. No! I can’t be here, I need to go.” Robin deflects like she always does, grabbing her messenger bag she storms out of the soundproof room, and right out of the station’s double doors. Leaving you and Steve alone.
He scoffs, staring out the glass after her, a silent argument with himself on whether he should follow or not evident on his face. He runs a hand through his hair with a bouncing knee, taking a deep breath through his nose before bringing his gaze back to you, that rogue strand flopping back across his forehead.
“I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.” He groans defeated with eyes that plead for some kind of reassurance. “Should I go find her?”
“I think she just needs a minute.” You reply softly, legs dangling. “If she does have feelings for someone else, that’s gotta be overwhelming. She’s new at this, ya know?”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, jaw ticking taking one last look outside before you see him visibly let it go with a sag of his shoulders.
”Always am.” You tease with a smile, doing your best to lighten the mood.
His eyes shift back to you, that dangerous thing from before returning ten fold twinkling in the gold specs inside of them. Suddenly the realization that the two of you are alone consumes the entire room, air turning thick with something that feels inevitable, that small little joke of yours working too well.
“Now don’t get crazy.” He scoffs, using his long legs to roll his chair towards you.
Something swoops in your belly, fingers curling around the wooden edge of the desk while you try to keep your composure, watching his Nike’s close the space.
“Name one time I’ve been wrong.”
Your challenge comes with a tilt of your chin, and an arch of your brow. The smirk you get in return has your teeth digging into your bottom lip, thighs closing the small gap between them. It still isn’t enough to stop the warmth between them from spreading, especially when he stops right in front of you. His face aligns with your knees from his seat, sending your body humming with his proximity to the place that’s wanted more of him for months now.
”How about when you said Beetlejuice was a good movie?” He snorts, meeting your gaze from under his lashes, something baiting inside of it.
”Are you kidding me? It’s an incredible movie! Tim Bur—“
”It was weird.” He cuts off with an irritated face, like just the memory of it is enough to annoy him.
”You’re weird.” You retort immediately, glaring with a scrunch of your nose.
Steve raises his eyebrows at you, before his narrowed gaze trails slowly down the length of your body. It lingers on your exposed thighs that he’s started to see a little more frequently thanks to warm spring days, and he’s never been more thankful to Mother Nature or your sun dresses. You swallow hard seeing him lick his lips, heart skipping a beat at the glazed over look in his eyes that makes your chest ache.
You have to leave.
”I — uh, I should go.” You stammer, starting to wiggle off the desk but Steve doesn’t let you get very far.
”Wait! Don’t — “ Standing up, the rest of that sentence fades as his hands find your knees, electric currents running through his finger tips that spread them apart so he can fit his hips between your thighs. His eyes hold you inside of them, hooded and begging before finishing it in a whisper. “Don’t leave.”
The two of you sit there unmoving, mouths so close it feels like you’re breathing each other in. His hands inch up your bare thighs, goosebumps pebbling along hot skin as his fingertips brush the bottom hem of your dress.
”Steve.” You manage to murmur, somehow finding your voice. “It’s a bad idea and you know it.”
The protest sounds weak leaving your mouth, especially when the backs of your heels hook and pull him closer. Your hands grip harder at the edge of the desk, needing something to anchor you while the tip of his nose runs up the bridge of yours. The spice of his cologne wraps around you, and the hint of cinnamon mixed with the amber is new.
“What’s so bad about it? Give me one reason.” He mocks your previous challenge with a flash of his teeth, grabbing at the soft fat under his palms.
”Robin.”
“Well she doesn’t have to know.” He snorts like it’s obvious, wandering hands sliding up higher.
”Okay, then what happens if this blows up in our face and we end up hating each other?” Your argument would feel more valid if you weren’t straightening your spine, getting so close to him that your chests touch.
”You really think you can hate me?” He fake pouts with a furrow of his brows, that infamous swoop of hair tickling your forehead.
”Steve! I’m being serious.” You whine a little defeated because you know you’re about to give in, and because all you want is for him to just kiss you already.
You think he knows that too.
He exhales a breath through his nose, one hand finally becoming bold enough to slip under your dress to wrap around your hip, while the other cups the apple your cheek. The pad of his thumb tilts your chin up to keep your gaze on him, lips so close that they almost touch.
”And what if it doesn’t blow up in our face?” He challenges, letting his top lip graze your bottom. “What happens if we end up really liking each other? What then?”
Your lashes flutter, feeling his warm breath kiss your skin, butterflies rioting inside the crevices of your ribcage. Your fingers let go of their death grip on the edge of the desk, and spread over his stomach. He inhales sharply at the contact, his grip on your hip tightening as your palms work their way up his chest before sliding along his neck and into the thickness of his hair at the nape of it. Steve tugs you closer as your legs wrap around his waist, the tip of your nose nudging his warmed cheek.
”Because I don’t know if you can’t tell or something but I already really like you.” He confesses hot against your mouth with the softest brush of his lips. “I have for a while. And you know what I think?”
”Hmm?” You manage with lust clouding your vision and fingers curling into his roots.
”I think you like me too.”
You don’t bother giving the answer he already knows, instead you close what little distance is left. It takes Steve a moment to realize what you’re doing, that this is actually happening but when he does, he takes control of the kiss immediately. His lips feel hungry moving against yours, devouring you like it’s been a craving, claiming your mouth like it’s already his.
A deep groan rumbles from his chest at the feel of your tongue swiping along his bottom lip. The blunt ends of his nails dig into the soft skin of your hip when he opens up for you and they finally meet. They massage each other moving languid and slow, relishing in the feeling. Back bending, your fingers curl deeper in his roots, somehow needing more.
As if he can read your mind, the pad of his thumb tugs at the corner of your mouth, opening you up more. He explores every inch of you like he’s trying to memorize it, swallowing all the sounds that are somehow better than his imagination. Your hips rock against him, the thin cotton of your panties leaving hardly any barrier. A breathy gasp escapes the back of your throat feeling just how big he really is.
Steve takes this moment to catch his breath, pulling away with a heaving chest. He presses his forehead against yours, eyes taking in your flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips.
“You know how many times I’ve thought about this?” He sighs, the pad of his thumb stroking your cheek. That permanent teasing edge to his voice is absent for the first time tonight.
His confession erupts across your body that bends for him, silently asking for more all on its own. Holding his gaze in the depths of yours, the pointed roll of your hips is slow enough to feel the entire length of him pressed against his zipper. It twitches underneath the metal, the pressure against your clit only covered by a thin pair of cotton earning him a quiet whimper.
”I think about you all the time, Steve.” You say in a low voice, looking at him from under the thick hood of your lashes, rolling your hips again.
“Honey.” He hisses through his teeth, his grip on you tightening hard enough to hold you still. A shiver ripples through him as he desperately tries to find his self control. “We should stop —“
Your hands untangle from his hair, sliding down his jaw that you hold in your palms. The pad of your thumb traces the curve of his full bottom lip that you want nothing more than to feel between your teeth. He inhales another sharp breath watching the way your eyes darken, his thick lashes fluttering kissing the tops of his cheeks like he can read your mind.
”What if I don’t want to stop?”
All you’ve ever done with Steve is hold yourself back. And now that you’ve had him, you don’t want to do it anymore. You can’t do it anymore.
”I’m tired of not getting what I want.” You reaffirm, tilting your head to meet his eyes, brushing your lips against his kiss bitten ones before whispering, “aren’t you?”
He holds your gaze down the slope of his nose, the hand on your hip moving to wrap around the small of your back pulling you close, while the other trails down to cup the side of your neck. The pad of his thumb rests at the hinge of your jaw, a flurry of emotions swirling inside his stare as he takes everything in, making sure he’s not misreading any signs. It’s not until he feels the quiet way you say his name against his lips that he comes back to his body, snapping out of his nervous lapse in judgement of what’s happening.
”You have no fucking idea.” Steve growls, finally capturing your mouth without anything holding him back anymore.
This kiss is different from the last one, his lips move against yours with something possessive behind them — greedy. Your tongues don’t wait for permission, tangling together with an intensity that has your teeth scraping together. Completely lost in months of late nights and lingering stares, his hand slides down your neck, and across your shoulders bringing your dress strap with it. He finishes his path joining his other hand under your dress, both of them meeting and curling around the apple of your ass. Squeezing harshly, he pulls you closer with a hard slam on the wood of the desk.
Moaning into his mouth, you tug at the collar of his sweater, silently urging him to take it off. He catches on quickly, but struggles to break himself free, obsessed with the taste of you — the feel of you in his hands. It’s the whine that peels itself from the back of your throat and the way you push yourself closer searching for friction that he finally pulls himself away with a suck of your bottom lip. Letting it go with a loud pop, the pout on your face turns his lovesick grin cocky as he plucks the collar of his sweater from the back and tosses it to the side of the studio in one fell swoop.
Your lids grow heavy, eyes glazing over at the thick smattering of hair on his chest. Throat drying up at the sight of his permanently sun kissed skin dotted with mini constellations of freckles and moles that your fingers itch to trace. He runs a hand through his hair, drinking in the sight of you too. The wild look on your face with your dress rucked up around your hips, legs spread revealing the wet patch in the middle of your panties that he’s the culprit of. Both straps dangle loosely off your shoulders, leaving just the red ones of your bra, the swell of your breasts teasing him.
“Jesus, I knew you were gonna ruin me.” He mutters to himself in disbelief, slowly walking back to his place between your legs.
His hands trail up your thighs, squeezing at the soft dough under your dress appreciatively with lick of his lips, before curling his fingers around the elastic. It’s the only thing left keeping him from a part of you he’s thought about more times than he’d ever admit.
“Tell me what you want.” He breathes against your lips, brows furrowed with need.
Your fingers find their way to his belt, expertly undoing the gold buckle before popping open the button and tugging down the zipper of his jeans. He hisses at the release as you lift your head, capturing his mouth in something so sure there’s no room left to argue, pulling away just enough to whisper.
”You.”
That’s all Steve needs, yanking your panties down in one swift motion, capturing your lips as he does the same with the straps of your dress. It pools around your lap, just like his jeans do at his feet. Kicking them off along with his shoes, he grabs one of your legs hitching it over his waist, pointedly running his hard covered length along your wet seam. You both moan into each other's mouths at the contact, your fingers tangling in his hair, anchoring yourself to him as he licks into you, rolling his hips again.The way your slick instantly wets the fabric of his briefs makes it feel like he’s teasing himself too.
”I don’t — I don’t have a condom.” He murmurs, using all of his strength to pull away with panic set in his eyes like maybe he’s ruined this whole thing.
Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you let one of your hands slide down his chest, greedily scratching your nails along the dark hair there, before following it down his happy trail. The muscles in his stomach twitch, along with his cock that only grows bigger when you cup it, and the feeling of just how thick he is has you squirming at the thought of making it fit.
“I’m on birth control.” You admit quietly, your fingers dipping into the waist band of his underwear, the tips of them running along his pelvic bone.
”Jesus Christ.” Steve’s eyes pinch closed, the grip on your leg tightening to something almost bruising.
”Is that okay? Do you want to —“
“Yes, yes, god yes, that's okay.” He interrupts with an enthusiastic nod of his head.
Bend bending down, he claims your lips again as your greedy hands push his boxers past his hips. Your touch is tentative wrapping around the weight of him, but the moan you get in return is loud enough to echo off the glass encasing you, encouraging you forward. The first pump has him shuddering underneath your palm, a big hand grabbing your chin, using it to tilt your head to the side. He takes your slow torture out on the base of your throat in the form of open mouthed kisses, dragging his teeth along your pulse point that jumps for him.
“Steve you’re so - you’re so -“
He flattens his tongue, licking a path that has your eyes roll back, killing off the rest of that sentence by latching onto that sensitive spot behind your ear and sucking hard. It’s replaced by a breathy whine that comes out at the same time the pad of your thumb swipes against his leaking tip. He grunts into your neck, hips bucking into your touch.
“I know baby, I know.” He murmurs into your ear, nipping at the lobe before enveloping it into the heat of his mouth, letting it go with a loud pop. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”
The endearment has your legs spread wider in a silent plea to keep his word. He smiles wide against your skin, sneaking his hand between you to replace yours that go back to their new home in the hair at the nape of his neck. You decide it’s your favorite place. He pulls away enough for your noses to bump, blown out wild looking eyes meeting yours before they drop down to a view he’s only ever imagined. His mind didn’t even come close to doing it justice.
”Fuuuuck.” He groans to himself, face twisting into something tortured, swiping himself through your glistening folds with another shudder ripping through his spine. “You’re so wet, honey.”
Steve says the last part almost like he can’t believe it, like there’s no world where you’d want him just as bad as he wants you. But when he does it again and you mewl in a way that sounds just as desperate, he knows it's true.
“You’re not the only one who’s wanted this for a long time.” You confess a little shy despite your current position, softening his features with the kind of smile that feels a lot like he’s already smitten.
The pad of his thumb on the hand still wrapped around your hitched leg traces circles on the goose pebbled skin underneath it.
“Yeah?” He sighs, eyes turning heavy bringing himself close enough to fit at your entrance. “Let’s make up for lost time then.”
Your fingers weave tighter in his hair, forehead pressing to his with a slack jaw at the first stretch of your walls. It feels like he’s everywhere, filling you so much as if he has nowhere else to go even though he’s only half way in.
”Oh my god, Steve, you feel — holy shit.” You pant, pulling at his roots so hard you know it hurts as he pushes himself to the hilt with one final stroke.
”You’re doing so good though, look at you.” His praise comes out against your lips, the tip of his nose nudging against your cheek. He feels the way his words tighten around him, a new wave of arousal coating every ridge and dip.
Steve gives you a minute to adjust to the size, only starting to move when you lean forward to steal a messy kiss. Desperation evident in the encouraging swipe of your tongue. He starts off slow, rolling his hips in languid strokes that match the way he licks into your mouth basking in the little noises escaping from the back of your throat. It’s not until you nip at his bottom lip that he lets go the way he really wants too.
Breaking away from your lips, he brings his attention to your face, needing to see the way it twists up when he pulls nearly all the way out before slamming himself back in. Your eyes go wide at the feeling, the silk of your walls fluttering, begging him for more that he gives without any hesitation. His palm finds it way back to your cheek that has to be searing against his skin, collecting your mouth again with a hunger that’s easy to lose yourself in.
He keeps a steady pace, hiking your leg further up his hip, somehow going even deeper. The tip of him hits the spot that no one else has ever been able to find, earning a loud moan of his name that he thinks sounds best when it comes from you. Using the opportunity that presents itself to him, he starts a path of open mouth kisses down your jaw, along your neck, gently pushing you back to lay against the desk, peppering them across your collar bone.
The new angle has you trying to cover the scream that's begging to fill the empty studio, and Steve keeps going. Tugging down your bra, sucks your pert nipple into the heat of his mouth. Your back arches, nails dinging into his shoulders when he brings his attention to the other one with a flick of his tongue.
“Perfect, you’re perfect.” Groaning his praise against your skin, he licks a stripe up your sternum before nipping at the curve of your breast.
Steve stands up straight, bringing his hands to your hips stretching you out even more. His eyes take in your heaving chest, dark eyes, and skin shining wet from the work of his mouth and he thinks he might cum right now.
”You ready for more, pretty girl?” He coos with the softest grind of hips, lips twitching at the way your eyes hit the back of your head because of it.
”Please.” You beg, finding the strength to look at him from underneath your lashes.
Your stare breaks any self control he might have left, the first snap of his hips pushing you further up the desk, sending some of the eight tracks clattering to the ground.
“Oh my god.” You cry out, grabbing onto his forearms. The blunt ends of your nails digging into his freckles when he does it again.
”You feel so fucking good.” He grits out between his teeth, the grip on your curves turning bruising as his head rolls back lost in the silk of your walls that keep sucking him in every time he tries to leave.
His praise makes your hips meet the next roll of his, sending another flurry of cuss words spilling out of his mouth, that turn into your name the more you keep up with his pace. Tugging you back to the edge of the desk, he folds over you, palms finding purchase on either side of your head.
That swoop of hair tickles damp against your forehead, his face contouring into something dazed watching the way you try to catch your breath. The quick grind of his hips punches the air out of your lungs with every thrust, the thick thatch of hair at the base of your demise rubbing against your clit with just the right of pressure.
You know you're not going to last much longer as the heels of your feet dig into his ass pushing him deeper. He grunts into your mouth, collecting a sloppy kiss rolling his hips in a circle, the tip of him pushing right against the spot you need him most.
“Come on, honey, let go. I know you want to. Let me finally make you feel good.” He murmurs encouragingly, grabbing both your wrists and pinning them above your head, sending a notebook and some pens flying to the ground.
The new position tightens the coil deep inside your gut tight enough to snap, your walls constricting around him as you tumble over the edge with nothing but his name spilling from your lips. Seeing something he’s only ever daydreamed about in the dead of night sends him flying right after you. He lets go of your hands catching himself on the desk, body shaking with a loud groan rumbling from his chest painting your insides with months of wanting you so much that it aches in his chest.
He keeps up the slow grind of his hips until you both come back down, with goofy love sick smiles twisting up your lips. You giggle when he nudges his nose with yours, getting a blinding flash of his white teeth in return.
“What?” Amusement dances in his eyes, brushing the apple of your cheek with the back of his hand.
”This just isn’t where I imagined it would finally happen is all.” You grin, leaning into his touch. “So out in the open.”
”It’s not like anyone’s here —“
”Steve, look, I’m sorry.” The sound of Robin’s voice echoes out through the empty station.
”Oh fuck me.” He yells in a whisper, wide panicked eyes meeting yours before dropping to the ground out of sight. You try your best to adjust your bra and dress into place.
“You know I hate when we figh— oh.” Robin stops in her tracks in the common room, confusion painting her features taking in your disheveled look and the lack of Steve in the room.
“H-hey!” You squeak out, voice cracking and she narrows her gaze at it.
”Where’s Steve?” She asks, the question coming out slowly in that suspicious kind of way.
”Uh - he uh - he went to the bathroom.” You offer, scratching the back of your neck while the man in question scrambles to get his clothes back on at your feet.
Tilting her head to the side, she squints at you clearly not believing a word coming out of your mouth. Realization dawns on her features, annoyance replacing any confusion that was left.
”You have got to be kidding me!” She throws up her hands, “Steve I know you’re there. You guys suck at lying.”
”Shit.” Steve mutters, pulling on his shirt before slowly standing up, buckling his belt with a sheepish smile.
”Hey.” He waves, running a hand through his damp hair.
idk man just got a lil inspired and then a lot carried away thinking about boy next door!steve
ty @morninglesss @cpnsteverogers @tinfoileddd for enabling me
•••
ຣ boy next door!steve who is a year older than you so you played together as kids but then he got a little more popular than you, esp when he moved up to middle school and you were still in elementary. he’d still tousle your hair when he walked past you to get on the big kid bus at the bus stop, though.
ຣ bnd!steve, who’s always at your family’s stupid barbecues bc you’re neighbors and your parents are friends, but he starts bringing random girls from his grade who act like talking to you is a chore even tho you’re only 1 year younger. he walks them home and comes back to sit with you and your parents at the fire pit even after everyone else has gone home.
ຣ bnd!steve who still invites you to his birthday parties even though his friends think you’re weird (you kind of are, because you are a horse girl).
there’s probably a year where he does this to explicitly be a little mean bc he is a teenage boy.
he’s turning 14, you’re 13, and he the invitation he sends you says that the party starts at 6PM. when you arrive, you’re very obviously late, and he and his other friends snicker a little while steve says, loudly in front of everyone, that the party started at 3, and you live right next door, how could you get it so messed up?
ຣ bnd!steve, who invites you to his family parties from there on out, because he’s known you so long that it just makes more sense for you to celebrate with his cousins than his friends, who don’t understand you or his friendship with you anyway. he pulls you aside and apologizes for the previous year, and even though it’s a whole year late, you just shrug it off. you get him back at your birthday party anyway by making him comply with the theme (still horses, because your mom kind of can’t take a hint that you’ve outgrown that kind of thing).
ຣ goddamn fucking bnd!steve inviting his girlfriend(s) over to his house to go swimming when it’s hot enough (and even when it’s not, because nothing is more conducive to misbehavior than teenagers off from school and home alone while their parents are at work). watching him from the too-hot, still air of your bedroom, your fan barely making a dent in the heat while they splash around in the water. her pushing steve off the diving board, steve splashing her in retribution. her untying her bikini top and tossing it out of the pool, and steve crowding her against the wall of the deep end, his face pressed to her neck while you try and try to just read your honors english assignment you were given to do over break.
ຣ bnd!steve whose bedroom is directly across from yours, and it was never a problem until he was 18 and you were 17 and the day comes when you accidentally see into steve’s room when he brings a girl in there, post-pool antics. after that you always keep your curtains drawn. because you didn’t see anyone’s parts but well, you sure were about to.
ຣ bnd!steve who agrees to go to your prom with you when your mom asks, but you freak OUT about it bc you did NOT want to ask him. you definitely don’t even like him! not like that!
your mom going behind your back to ask steve to your prom for you on your behalf is mortifying. you refuse to let him take you so you do go alone with your friends, but when you leave and need a ride home bc you’re the Only one who went stag, you discover steve was there the whole time in the parking lot waiting, just in case.
ຣ bnd!steve not coming over the day in late summer when you’re leaving for college but just stepping out onto the porch to casually give you a wave as your dad’s car starts driving off with you and all your crap in the backseat. he doesn’t go back inside until your dad turns at the end of the block, and you keep looking out the side window at him until you can’t anymore.
ຣ bnd!steve who, in the only way he can get your attention through the closed window with your curtains drawn, starts shining a flashlight at the side of your house. it’s late, christmas eve, but he knows you’re in your room because he saw the light turn on and then off a few minutes later.
tentatively, you peel the drapes back and see him there, window open, half hanging out of it with the flashlight waving in your face.
you push up the glass pane and lean your hands on the sill.
“what?” you ask, half annoyed and half endeared. you guys haven’t talked much since you started keeping your window all buttoned up.
“just wanted to say merry christmas,” steve calls back, and you soften.
you pause just a beat. “merry christmas,” you say back, and he smiles at you, then nods and waves and you both retreat into your bedrooms.
ຣ bnd!steve who comes thisclose to asking your mom for your school address so he can write you a letter when you head back to college in the spring.
ຣ bnd!steve who never realized or considered he may have had a crush on you until he sees you with some other guy, your boyfriend who comes to visit you over summer break after your freshman year.
it just leads to steve coming to terms with the fact that he may have always considered you a sure thing or “his” because you were always there, always at his beck and call, always around for him. he decides to just take the L because you seem happy with your college bf.
ຣ bnd!steve who overhears you on the phone with your best friend talking about how you wanted to try sex when your boyfriend was there that summer, but it was seriously underwhelming. your bedrooms still face each other after all, it’s not his fault your window is open and the drapes you have handing over your VERY OPEN window don’t do much to smother the sound of your voice, which maybe he’s been attuned to for longer than he realizes.
and steve goes from “i shouldn’t be listening to this” to “what an asshole” to “i can do BETTER” to “wait i shouldn’t be thinking that”
because you’re telling your girlfriend about how he made you feel really comfortable and excited and then once he got on top of you, he just turned into this selfish lump of a guy who only got himself off, asked “you finished too, right?” and then when you told him no, just barely fingered you and you had just told him you came because it was so pathetically bad that you didn’t even want to anymore.
ຣ bnd!steve seeing you out by the fire pit alone toasting a marshmallow on the hazy early august evening, that’s basically burnt to a crisp bc you’re zoned out bc your bf just dumped you. over the phone. because you didn’t want to sleep with him anymore. (he’d been visiting for a week! how did he expect to have sex in your parents’ house without getting caught? yes, he overheard that conversation too.)
ຣ bnd!steve meandering over into your backyard like it isn’t past midnight and sitting next to you without saying a word. just staying silent as you murmur a shaky “hey” and just finally toss the stupid marshmallow and stick into the fire and ask what he’s doing there, it’s late.
“looked like you could use an old friend, maybe” is the answer he gives you, and when you just huff he starts to tell you a story about a time you forgot: when he was 8 and you were 7 and he caught a frog in his yard. how it wriggled out of his hold and escaped into your yard. how you captured it again and handed it to him through the hole in the fence and ever since then he’s owed you, and so he’s finally paying you back.
like he didn’t embarrass himself at your horse-themed birthday party.
like he didn’t show up to your prom even though you didn’t want him to.
like he didn’t stop bringing girls over to his room once he realized that was probably why you’d started to keep your curtains firmly closed.
and this frog story. it’s really stupid and doesn’t help but it does remind you of all the history you have with him and when you get up from your lawn chair after a few minutes of contemplative silence and move it closer to his, he just lets you hold his hand and watch the fire until it burns down to embers.
you’re half asleep on his shoulder, his face buried in your hair until you sit up and look at him in the moonlight. he squeezes your hand but doesn’t move, because as much as he wants it he doesn’t expect anything.
nor should he. you’ve been his girl forever, but never really his girl.
ຣ bnd!steve’s breath catching in his throat when you tip your chin up and kiss him. soft, featherlight.
ຣ bnd!steve kissing you easy and slow by the smoldering fire, the stick you were using to try and roast your marshmallow little more than ash now. the bag of the rest of them is still off to the side somewhere, forgotten—tomorrow, your mother will ask how you forgot an entire bag of marshmallows outside, all stuck together, partially melted from the dew and then the sun beaming down on them in the heat of late summer, and you’ll have to lie and tell her you were just tired.
because you are. you stay outside with steve until the sun starts coming up over the horizon, the deep blue sky turning pink and then white right before the blue lightens.
he tugs you closer by your hoodie pouch, hands curling into it as he guides you from your lawn chair to his, settling you onto his lap. it isn’t too much. it isn’t an attempt to seduce you or entice you or anything. he just tucks his hands into your pocket and when yours join them in there, you lace your fingers with his as you straddle him, and he doesn’t let you move close, instead keeping the distance between you even as you let him kiss you over and over, everywhere he can reach.
“it’s—weird?” he asked you.
“no,” you say. “is it?”
“maybe,” he answers, and you laugh together, silencing him with a kiss because your parents’ bedroom window is open and they have no idea you’re outside, much less outside with a boy.
“we stayed up all night,” you tell him, unnecessarily.
“duty called,” steve says.
“i’m your duty now?” you ask.
but he only smiles, to himself, you think. “something like that.”
ຣ bnd!steve waiting on his back deck until he sees your curtains flick to the side, your face peeking out of the darkness down at him. you wave, he waves, and then he disappears through the sliding glass door. what he doesn’t expect, what you didn’t make a conscious decision to even do, is when he looks out his window at yours, you’re still standing there, peeking around the the jamb with your curtains pulled open for the first time in months. and even though he’s startled at your presence, you share a secret little smile before you both turn in for the night. well, morning.
because he’s been your boy forever, but never really your boy.
jessss this was like watching the most beautiful cinematic coming-of-age montage!!
the yearning in this is so palpable. it really reads like one of those coming-of-age montages where you don’t realize it’s a love story until you look back at it all at once and go: oh, he’s loved you this entire time, even when he didn’t have the language for it yet.
like this early detail:
he’d still tousle your hair when he walked past you to get on the big kid bus at the bus stop, though.
that’s such a small thing but it’s also so consistent with steve as someone who expresses attachment physically and casually.
even that moment on his birthday, it's a very "I want attention but don’t know how to ask for it correctly" kind of cruelty.
and then the prom night reveal?? him waiting for you the whole time in the parking lot??? sobbing i just can't get over it
you discover steve was there the whole time in the parking lot waiting, just in case.
but then you hit me again with this:
he doesn’t go back inside until your dad turns at the end of the block, and you keep looking out the side window at him until you can’t anymore.
such a bittersweet thing, letting someone go with so many words left unsaid—never quite brave enough to ask for something as simple as your mailing address, only ever reaching out in these small, almost accidental ways, like a flashlight flickering against your window just to say merry christmas and nothing else...
and I was so glad the fire pit scene finally slowed everything down so they could have their moment:
“looked like you could use an old friend, maybe”
ugh. i just loved this line so much.
it's such a steve line and captures their dynamic perfectly, loaded with all the things he can’t say out loud.
and the frog story is exactly that too—trivial on paper but emotionally it’s like: we’ve always been here. we’ve always looped back to each other.
and the whole thing resolves into that one idea:
you’ve been his girl forever, but never really his girl.
and the ending with the curtains opening again?? what a beautiful full circle moment 🙌
Chapter Warnings: SMUT (brief fingering/handjob, car sex, p in v sex), slow burn friends to lovers, miscommunication, one-sided (?) pining, language, period-typical slut shaming, minor character death
Chapter Summary: from childhood, you and steve were best friends, until your stupid infatuation with him ruined it. then you were something else, until he ruined that too.
Fic Summary: You and Steve can't stand to be around one another... but you have to learn to coexist and raise your goddaughter together in the face of the apocalypse.
Steve didn't know how you'd managed it. But there you were, sitting in front of your turntable with a copy of the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack. You held onto it like it was the holy grail, eyes wide with pure awe. There was still a scrap of candy striped wrapping paper taped to the back.
Just a few weeks prior, the two of you had gotten caught sneaking into the showing of the movie after buying tickets to Pete's Dragon. The manager at The Hawk called your parents, and both of you were dragged home by your ears.
"How the hell did you get this?" He asked, brows knit. At eleven, he'd only just started trying out swearing, and it didn't entirely feel right on his tongue yet.
You smiled and took it from the sleeve, the black vinyl glistening in the warm light of your room. "I asked my grandma," you explained as you placed it on the turntable to start playing it. Immediately, the familiar disco music began to play over the speakers. "She doesn't know about us getting in trouble at the movies. She just thinks John Travolta is cute"
Steve's face wrinkled. "John Travolta isn't cute, he's cool," he argued, but you weren't listening.
The door to the bedroom was closed, which neither of you thought about. The sounds of the Christmas party downstairs were muffled— boisterous laughter, the swing of an old Bing Crosby record, a bottle of champagne being popped. It was fine, you were to be seen and not heard, and Steve was right there with you.
You had met Steve at a party just like this a few years back, right after your family moved to Hawkins. Another party where you and any other children were ushered into a room to entertain yourselves while the adults did their own thing. You bonded over a mutual love for The Muppets, and shared a plate of cookies away from all of the other snotty, bratty kids.
Steve, very quickly, became your favorite person in the whole world.
Without knowing it, you only had a few good months before your parents would step in and lecture you about what's proper and how ladies don't close the door when there's a boy in the room.
By thirteen, you'd have to stop letting him in your room altogether. He'd be relegated to the living room under your parent's watchful eyes. No sharing blankets, one cushion between you on the couch, stiff side-hugs only. He would go from walking through the woods to your window, to going up the path to your door. All formality.
But, for the time being, Steve was in your room, and Steve was your best friend. And you had the top item on your wish list.
You exchanged the small gifts you'd managed to buy each other from the dollar store. You got Steve a Muppet Show lunchbox, and he got you a stuffed bear. Steve snuck you slices of fruitcake, which you both hated, and cups of eggnog, which were disgustingly spiked. Everything was warm and nice and it felt like the best night of your life.
Next year, you'd start middle school. Steve would meet Tommy Hagan, who would steal away most of his attention. And the year after, you'd meet Carol Perkins, who would steal away most of yours.
"So, who do you like?" She'd ask, laying on your bed while her fingernail polish dried. Her parents had dropped her off with ten bucks for the two of you to spend at Melvald's, which you'd splurged on candy and makeup.
"I dunno," you replied with a shrug. Really, no one at school caught your eye. You'd rather spend time with friends than worry about dating. Even at fourteen, your mother was already belaboring the fact that you were a dreaded late bloomer.
Carol's expression lit up. "We can play MASH and figure it out," she suggested. She grabbed your precious Snoopy stationery and a ballpoint pen, and quickly scribbled out your future.
"Magic number?" She asked. You closed your eyes and tried to will the universe, or god, or fate, or whatever to speak through you.
"Ummm… Nine."
A few minutes later, Carol sat up with a smug grin. "Okay, the oracle has spoken," she said with all of the grandeur she could muster. "You're going to be a doctor, have a pet turtle, have two kids, and live in a house with… Steve."
The searing, gut wrenching heat of embarrassment flooded your system. Married? And to Steve? "That's so stupid," you replied, but Carol kept digging.
"Aw… you're totally blushing!" She teased, as your face grew hotter and hotter. If you could have, you would have crawled under your bed to die. "No, it's sweet! No wonder you don't have crushes on anyone. You're totally crazy for Steve."
You didn't think that was true. Steve was a gross boy. He spat on the sidewalk and puked up Slurpees on your shoes over the summer and when the weather turned he got really snotty and disgusting.
Sure, you hadn't really had any crushes yet, but that was because you were such good friends with Steve, and it was hard to find someone who you'd rather spend time with. What was a crush if not a really good friend? A friend who you'd want to kiss?
Had you ever wanted to kiss Steve? Had you wanted to kiss anyone yet?
"I don't want to have two kids with Steve either," you argued, but Carol just grinned.
"Do you even know how it works?" She questioned. At your silence, she laughed. It didn't feel mean, just that she was grateful to finally know something you didn't already. "Aren't your parents doctors, or something? They're totally sheltering you. It's fine, I can tell you. My sister told me all about it. She says it's the best thing in the world."
Freshman year, you discovered that you did want to kiss people. Steve. You wanted to kiss Steve.
Steve had gotten taller over the summer, and his voice was deeper, and just being around him had started making you dizzy. You stole your mother's Avon perfume and begged her to order you more after Steve commented on how nice it smelled. Carol snuck you makeup, which you had to put on in a tiny mirror hidden inside of your locker, and take off before your parents got home.
Because of the constant surveillance, you spent more time at his house. His parents didn't care if he brought over girls, and they figured since he'd known you since you were both in grade school, nothing would ever happen. You tried not to feel insulted.
So you sat in Steve's room and listened to your favorite records. And after all of this time, you still loved the Bee Gees. Steve still preferred Queen.
"What are you wearing to Carol's birthday party?" He asked from behind a copy of Sports Illustrated. "And what are you gonna get her? Girls are so hard to buy for."
You looked up from your spot by the window, where you had lost yourself staring out into the woods. "Uh… I bought her some eyeshadow and nail polish," you said absently. "It's kind of hard, she's so different than me."
Steve grinned. "That's 'cause you're still a baby," he said, and you hated the way your stomach twisted at the words. You knew he didn't mean anything hurtful by them, but it still made you feel a little pathetic. "Speaking of… Tommy said Brian's coming. And he told me that Brian thinks you're really pretty."
You fought back an expression of disgust. Brian was in your biology lab and got detention for tying the poor dissection frog's limbs to pencils and playing with it like a marionette. Brian was a stupid meathead, and he wasn't even very cute.
"Brian is disgusting," you said weakly. "And everyone Tommy tries to set me up with is a total dud. I wish he'd just stop trying.
Steve put the magazine down and sighed. "Tommy's just trying to help," he insisted. "He doesn't want you to feel left out."
There was a lump in your throat that you couldn't swallow down. "I'm not left out," you said, but it felt so defensive and pathetic. "The only people dating right now are Carol and Tommy. You're single too."
Steve made a face then, but you tried to ignore it. Baby, baby, baby. Your inexperience was beginning to feel like a scarlet letter, not that Steve would have understood the reference if you tried to explain.
You loved Steve, and Carol, and Tommy, but a lot of the time you felt like you were just dead weight around them. The baby of the group. The responsible one. The stick in the mud.
Carol's birthday was supposed to change that. Her parents were out of town, and her older sister, Debbie, bought her wine coolers since Carol had promised not to snitch the next time she snuck out to go be with a boy.
The wine coolers gave you a little liquid courage, Carol let you know that you'd all be playing seven minutes in heaven later, and she'd rigged it so you and Steve would go into the closet together. Foolproof, in her eyes. Terrifying in yours.
Steve went into the closet first, blindfolded because Carol thought it would be more fun that way. His cheeks were pink, and everyone jeered as Carol tied the bandana over his eyes.
She held up the next name silently, winking in your direction. There were giggles and snickers, but you stood, wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans, and stepped into the closet. This was it, you thought. You'd kiss Steve, he'd immediately realize it's you, and you'd be boyfriend and girlfriend.
The door shut, you took a shaky breath. You felt like you were going to pass out, or something. Your mouth tasted sickly sweet like the wine coolers, and you could hear a crowd gathering around the door. Footsteps and giggles.
"Aren't you going to say something?" Steve's voice cut through the dark of the room. You swallowed hard and leaned forward.
It was a simple, if not a little boring kiss. But you really didn't know any better. A chaste, prolonged peck. Mouths closed, hands at your side.
You pulled back, heart racing eyes wide in the dark of the room. You could barely make out the shape of him.
"Y/N?" He pulled off the bandana, brows knit. "You didn't have to do that. We can just talk."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Even in the dark, he was so handsome. You wanted to tell him that you wanted to kiss him, that you wanted to try again, if that was okay.
But Steve beat you to the punch. "Man, I wish I got paired with Lisa," he mumbled. "No, offense. I just mean, you're my friend, and we don't like each other that way."
Then softer, "Was that your first kiss?"
It was a miracle that the closet was dark enough that he couldn't see the sparkle of tears in your eyes. Humiliated, mortified tears.
There were five minutes left that you used to collect yourself, but everyone outside knew how it had gone. When Lisa giggled at your forlorn expression, Carol pulled her aside to bitch her out and send her home.
That was Carol— she'd never let someone hurt you. Not on purpose, at least.
By Monday at school, Carol told Tommy everything, which meant his expression held an amount of pity in it that made you sick. Steve was sitting with Lisa at lunch, which made it all worse.
"It's just a tough break," he said, with that typical boyish attitude. He believed everything he'd been told growing up— Walk it off, Hagan. Be a man. "You know how Steve is. The sooner you get over him, the sooner things'll be back to normal."
The implication behind his words was clear enough— Steve's not interested, so move on, or suffer through. What choice did you have but to move on? To shed your cocoon and fit in with your friends?
But you knew well enough that each time you told Steve about a new date or a guy you were interested in, it was all with the hopes of making him burn with jealousy. Steve didn't burn for you, he just wanted you to be happy.
Steve was your friend. That's all he'd ever be, all he wanted to be. You could learn to live with that. You tried to live with that and shove every bitter, nasty feeling down deep.
Sophomore year, you came into your own. A few months at summer camp with Carol meant a world of development. Your first perm, and all of the trials and tribulations of learning to style the big, bouncy curls. A cabin of girls who loved nothing more than teaching you the right ways to apply makeup. Your figure finally took shape, and Carol's sister was happy to pass along hand-me-downs to accentuate it.
Danny Miller was your first real boyfriend. He was co-captain of the swim team with Steve, and, sure, he wouldn't have been your first pick, but he was a cute guy. Despite attending all of Steve's swim meets, you had never paid attention to him before. You doubted he noticed you until then either.
"Danny is a total tool," Steve told you over a plate of cheese fries from Benny's. You made a face, and stole a bite from his plate, but he doubled down. "Hey, I'm serious! He's dumb as rocks, you're way too smart to be with him. What do you even talk about?"
You scoffed. "I dunno," you said with a shrug. "Same things we talk about, I guess. Everything? I don't know."
Steve scowled, rolling his eyes. "He's a total loser, I'm serious. You're so out of his league it isn't even funny. You shouldn't waste your time with a guy like him. Don't even let him touch you, alright? I mean it."
Your face wrinkled in annoyance. His protectiveness felt stifling and infantalizing. You weren't a baby, you could make choices about your love life without Steve butting in.
Besides, Danny was a total sweetheart. He brought you flowers, and walked you to class. Sure, he wasn't the brightest bulb in the bunch, but he was good to you, and that's all you could really ask for.
And, really, It felt nice to be into someone after spending so long pining after Steve.
By your junior year, you'd gotten pretty serious. Steve still hated to hear you talk about Danny, just like you never liked any of the girls he brought around. The only difference was that Danny had staying power, which just pissed him off even more.
"You used to tell me stuff," he said one weekend, when you sneaked away from a neighborhood party to avoid your parents in the woods. Smoke curled from his lips on the exhale as he smoked a cigarette. A new nasty habit that had developed over the summer, which only drew attention to how full and kissable his lips were.
He was only getting more handsome, which you needed to stop thinking about for Danny's sake. "Why didn't you tell me that Daniel Miller popped your cherry?" He grinned, and you could smell the beer on his breath from your spot beside him.
Your eyes widened and you nearly choked on your wine cooler. "Oh my god, Steve," you gasped. "Jesus, don't say it like that."
"Aw… don't be embarrassed," he teased, nudging you clumsily.
It wasn't like you were actually embarrassed about it. What was there to be embarrassed about? You slept with your boyfriend of nearly a year, which was longer than anyone else you knew had waited. You felt sure, and you really did care about Danny.
"It's just… personal," you said. You crossed your arms, wrapping them around yourself, and looked anywhere but at Steve.
"You used to talk to me," He said, and the hurt was evident in every syllable. "Why didn't you tell me? I mean, I had to find out from Tommy. How the hell does Tommy know more about my best friend than I do?"
"Well, I didn't tell Tommy," you insisted. "I told Carol and Tina. And, I mean, I guess I should have known Carol would tell Tommy, and that Tommy would tell you. But… I dunno, I thought it would be weird to talk about with you. You can't stand him anyway."
And there was that word he'd said. Best friend. For a while, you had wondered if that was even a fair title to put on each other. If you were honest with yourself, Carol had been your best friend since you were both thirteen. And Steve was more like a safety blanket from childhood— comfortable, familiar, safe. You had grown apart since you were kids.
"Yeah, maybe," he replied, and took another swig of beer. You leaned against a tree and drank your stolen wine cooler. It tasted sickly sweet and made your head feel a little fuzzy. Steve definitely had the better tolerance of the two of you, but even he was pretty buzzed by now.
"It was kind of lame, honestly," you admitted. "Nothing to write home about. Carol says it'll get way better."
Steve wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, on second thought, I really don't want to talk about it." Fair enough. You stole his cigarette and took a drag. It sucked, but it gave you something to do.
When you looked back, you'd find it hard to remember what started the fight. It had been a few weeks since the block party, and things had just felt off.
And Steve, being Steve, was flaking on your plans. The Hawk had finally gotten Eddie and the Cruisers, and he had promised he would go with you. And, sure, it wasn't a huge deal. They'd have showings for the next month at least, but something about it just really pissed you off.
"I can't believe you're bailing on me for some girl, Steve," you pressed. "This is so typical, you know that? All you do lately is think with your dick."
"Oh my god," he groaned, throwing himself back on his bed with exasperation. "I'm going on a date with a girl I really like, not screwing some hooker. Not that you seem to care."
You bristled, brows drawing together. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
Steve threw a hand over his eyes, rubbing at his temples like it was giving him a headache to even entertain the argument. "You get weird every time I have a girlfriend, like you want me to just ignore them for you or something. And it's been like this for a while, and I never say anything because Carol always tells me to drop it."
A scoff of disbelief escaped you as you shook your head. What? You'd been totally supportive of all of his stupid, pointless, dead end relationships. And he was talking shit to Carol? "You are such a goddamn liar, Steve," you argued. "I'm always so welcoming and nice to all of the girls you bring around. Like Becky, Laurie, Amy, Stacey—"
"Oh, right! Stacey. The same Stacey that you, Carol, and Tina told everyone had chlamydia? That Stacey?"
Your face felt hot. "Well, one, that was actually true and she only got treatment after we called her out, so she should be really grateful. And two, it wasn't my fault she was a total skank."
Steve had a problem. He picked women like an act of self-sabotage. Becky was beautiful, but was really using him to make her ex boyfriend jealous. Laurie seemed sweet at first, but was a total social climber. Amy seemed really perfect when they first started going together, but her laugh was ridiculous and she totally harshed the vibe at every party. And, well, Stacey maybe, allegedly, potentially had chlamydia.
Maybe he should have just picked better.
Or maybe you were the problem. The bitchy, judgemental friend who never saw any of them as good enough for Steve, because none of them were you. You knew the answer, even if you would never admit it to him.
Steve rolled his eyes, and you watched the flutter of muscle in his jaw as he bit back whatever it was he wanted to say. It fucking infuriated you.
"What?" You demanded. And you doubled down, because the alternative would be to admit you had been sabotaging his love life any way you could. Starting rumors, whispering in his ear until he convinced himself that something was wrong. "You're just mad because you know I'm right and you totally abandon our friendship whenever you start fucking around with whoever is next on your roster."
"Abandon you? Jesus Christ," he muttered. "Like you didn't totally toss me to the curb when you started dating Mr. Perfect last year."
Your face twisted in annoyance— a little furrow between your brows, a frustrated scowl. Steve always said you looked adorable when you were pissed off, but he didn't look too fond of you now. "What the fuck is your problem with him, huh?" You demanded. "You act like he's this horrible guy, but you can never tell me why you think he's so terrible."
Steve rolled his eyes and finally sat up to meet your gaze. "Okay, fine. He's annoying. His laugh makes me want to blow my goddamn brains out. He always smells like chlorine because he doesn't shower after practice, and sometimes it makes you smell like chlorine. And when he doesn't smell like chlorine, it smells like he bathed in cologne. Also, he thinks that he's so much better than me, when he barely beat my record in freestyle."
Steve paused, like he was debating whether or not to really round it out and say what he was thinking. Finally, he laughed and met your gaze. "Or maybe it's just that you don't really love him and it's really obvious to everyone but him," he said. "Or maybe, you should just accept that the person you really want doesn't want you back."
A sick feeling rose in your gut. There was something in his expression, in the mean cut of his stare, the sharp way he held his mouth. Like he knew. Carol would never say something, but Tommy…
"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, but even you didn't believe that. You liked Danny, but you didn't love him the way Carol and Tommy loved each other, even as tumultuous and messy as that could be. And the most frustrating part of all was that you wanted to love Danny, but your frustrating infatuation with Steve had burrowed into you and festered into a romance-killing parasite.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Steve insisted. Your heart thrummed, and you felt dizzy with embarrassment and hurt.
Had he known the entire time? Didn't he owe it to you to shut you down sooner? Of course not. Of course Steve would milk your doting affection for him until it got inconvenient for him.
"You know what? I don't have to put up with this shit. I don't have to put up with you."
You grabbed your bag and headed for his door, but you wanted him to stop you. But he just ran a hand over his face and sighed. "Yeah, go ahead. I have to get ready for my date anyway. You know the way out."
Carol thought it was stupid. She told you as much over the phone, as you cried into the receiver about how permanent the argument felt. Sure, you'd fought with Steve over the years, but it never felt so personal.
All you'd learned from the argument was that you were always going to put Steve first like a total chump. And you'd known for too long that he wouldn't do the same. Well, and that he was totally uninterested in your girlish fawning anymore.
"You're probably mad because he's right," Carol said. "Not about everything, but about you not being super into Danny. You know you don't have to just stick with him because he's nice and he's into you, right?"
You sighed, lip wobbling. Your other choices seemed to be waiting for lightning to strike Steve and change his mind, or being alone forever. "I guess," you mumbled.
"I'm serious, you're a total catch, and you don't need to stick with the first good guy to give you attention." You could hear the smack of bubblegum on the other side of the line. "Just don't do it right away or it'll make Steve think he's right."
You laughed, a weak, watery sound. "When do you think he realized?"
Carol sighed. "Look…" He said, trailing off. The quiet on the line felt tangible and thick until her voice cut through again. "He's mentioned it to Tommy a few times since Sophomore year, but Tommy would have never said anything. But maybe he has a point about moving on."
You swallowed hard around the lump in your throat… or tried to. "Yeah," you murmured. "Maybe. Maybe I just need a break from Steve to clear my head. Like, a week or two, or something."
"Aw, hon…" Carol trailed off. "Hey, I'll go see the movie with you! I was supposed to go over to Tommy's for dinner, but this is way more important."
A few days later, some kid went missing in the woods. Then Benny died and your favorite burger place in the world shut down. Steve had a party that he didn't extend an invite to, and his new girlfriend's friend went missing too.
Then there was the fight with Tommy and Carol, lashing out after he got cheated on, or when he thought he got cheated on. It was hard to know when everything was secondhand from Carol.
"He had a real attitude, I'll say that much," Carol muttered. You both curled up in her bed, staring up at the sticky stars on her ceiling. "He's probably freaked because the cops told his dad about the drinking, and Barbara went missing after his party, so… I mean, you know how his dad is. Me and Tommy tried to cheer him up, but he got mad at us for that too. I dunno, I think we all just need to cool off."
You didn't need to cool off. You threw yourself into Danny, hoping you could prove Steve wrong and make yourself fall for your boyfriend with distance.
Even without seeing Steve, his words echoed in your brain. Skipping lunch to make out in Danny's car, you nearly gagged on the smell of chlorine as it flooded your senses. And god… his laugh really was ear-splitting. Like a cackle.
By the start of senior year, Carol and Tommy had pretty much made up with Steve, but Steve was dating Nancy, who didn't want anything to do with the pair. You were newly single, but still giving him the cold shoulder.
It was nice, to see him in the halls and feel nothing. Not the tug of attraction or the spark of interest. You looked at him from your locker and just saw plain old Steve Harrington. Steve who was just as flawed as anybody else.
You took comfort in that.
Senior year passed like any other. Carol didn't care to apply for colleges, and Tommy had a job lined up at his dad's dealership. You got accepted into a state school on scholarship, and you told your parents that you were going to study nursing, just like they had, but you had no clue if that's what you really wanted.
Carol and Tommy decided to get married in June of 1985. They'd been dating since 1979, so even though it was sudden, you figured it was about time.
"Shotgun wedding," Carol explained. Well… that made more sense. "The doctor says it was conceived on Valentine's Day. What a gift, right?" She rolled her eyes.
Your bridesmaid dress was pink, with big princess sleeves and a full skirt. Carol loved it… you tolerated it. That's what a maid of honor was for.
Carol was a beautiful bride, though, and you just wanted her to be happy. Which is why you didn't say anything about Steve being the best man. You could tolerate him for Carol and Tommy's sake. It was a small town, anyway, and you had learned that he was totally unavoidable.
"You look nice," Steve said at the reception. He'd cornered you at the dessert table. You knew that was objectively untrue— you looked ridiculous in your bridesmaid's dress and your perm was just on the wrong side of too crispy.
Steve, on the other hand, looked great. It was annoying how much more attractive he'd gotten. Broader, and just older. He'd grown into every feature, and he looked so handsome you couldn't stand it. "You got highlights," you said, because it was easier than complimenting him back.
"Uh… no, it's just… I've been in the sun," he said. Liar. He tried to recover, bless his heart. "Tommy told me you're going to study to be a nurse," he tried again. "That's… y'know… kinda cool. You can practice on me, if you want. I'm always managing to get myself hurt."
You closed your eyes and sighed. Carol's dad was a recovering alcoholic, and she was knocked up, so it was a dry wedding. You wished there was at least some champagne. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
He swallowed. "Are you mad at me?"
You scoffed. It would have been embarrassing to say yes so far removed, but the answer wasn't entirely no either. You weren't sure how you felt about Steve in that moment. Maybe you were still the same jealous, bitter girl you had been at sixteen. "I'm not mad."
"Yeah you are, you have your mad crinkle," he accused. He poked you between your brows with a familiar smile on his face, which made you feel hot all over. Anger? Excitement? Who's to say. "You are mad. What are you mad about?"
With a huff and a roll of your eyes, you grabbed a slice of wedding cake. Steve did the same, and followed you back to the table for the wedding party. You took a bite and enjoyed it as best you could while still maintaining the annoyed furrow in your brow.
"I'm not mad," you repeated. "We just don't have anything to talk about."
His brow knit and his expression twisted in confusion. He took a bite of his cake, and you could see the way his expression softened at the taste. God, it was really good cake. "We haven't talked in almost two years, so I think there's a lot we can talk about."
"Fine, I don't want to talk to you, is that better?" You asked. It was a miracle that you didn't have to school your expression or your volume. The lights were low and the band onstage was doing their best not to butcher Duran Duran… very loudly. "You were a total dick to me."
That seemed to strike a nerve. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about," he pressed. "I was a great friend to you. I don't think one stupid argument changes that."
"One stupid argument is so rich," you pressed. "You knew I was, like, in love with you and you just let me dote on you like a lovesick puppy until it got inconvenient. You could have shut me down when we were fourteen."
"I thought I was," he argued back. "But, yeah, maybe I thought it was cute how into me you were. I was an asshole who liked the attention, alright?"
He ran a hand through his hair, and you could feel the irritation rolling off of him in waves. The band was now butchering Cyndi Lauper, which only seemed to irritate him further. He turned away from you, scowling, but didn't leave.
Why wouldn't he just leave you alone?
"And, okay, fine. I was a dick about Danny, but you were actively sabotaging every single one of my relationships," he said. "So I think we're even."
You were, notably, not even. As you sat, angrily stabbing the delicious wedding cake that you wouldn't be finishing, Tina approached with a wary expression. She looked ridiculous in her bridesmaid's dress, so you were sure you looked equally clownish. Her eyes flicked between you and Steve, briefly, before she pulled two flasks from her clutch.
Your eyes brightened at the sight. Like an oasis in a goddamn desert.
"Paul and I snuck in flasks for the rest of the bridal party. Can I trust you two?" You nodded and immediately reached out, but she pulled back. "I don't want you guys to do anything to ruin this for Carol and Tommy. Promise?"
You glanced at Steve, who was already looking at you. "Yeah, Tina, we promise," you insisted.
When you looked back on that night, the first sip of whatever liquor Tina and Paul had poured into the flasks was the beginning of the end.
It was an hour later, with a bitter taste on your tongue and heat burning through your veins, that you found Steve on the dance floor. The wedding was already dying down, giving the last few feeble twitches of energy like a dying animal. Carol's little cousins were dancing to Paula Abdul, or requesting Weird Al songs to no avail. A few of Tommy's cousins were getting a little hot and heavy on the dance floor which was odd for a dry wedding.
Carol had one final request before she got to head off to the honeymoon suite at the Holiday Inn off the interstate. The only pictures I have of you and Steve are the awkward wedding party photos you two took this morning. Can you just dance with him or something so the photographer can get some candids?
After a deep breath to steel yourself, you tapped Steve on his shoulder. "Can I cut in?"
He turned, brows furrowed. "You're only supposed to say that if I'm dancing with someone," he replied, but without saying anything, he eased his arms around your waist.
Carol whispered something to Debbie's newest boyfriend, who was manning the sound system in the absence of the live entertainment. You watched curiously as she fumbled through 45s, until a new song crackled over the speakers.
Crazy for You had been the final slow dance at prom. Carol had sworn that you and Steve were the only people to resist the pull of the dance floor, but she had a penchant for exaggeration. And a sick sense of humor.
You looped your arms around Steve's neck and swayed to the music. He was hot at his neck, hair curling and damp beneath your fingers. You braved a look up at him and felt a rush of ice through your veins and into your rapidly beating heart.
"What was in your flask?"You asked, trying to think of the least offensive topic of conversation that you could. "I got bourbon, or whiskey, I think. I smell like Mr. Holloway from the country club."
"I think I got gin," he said, and your nose wrinkled in distaste. Your first taste of gin had been at ten years old after you stole his mother's martini at a country club party. Neither of you had much interest in stealing drinks after that— not for a while, at least. "It's disgusting, but being sober at a wedding should be illegal."
You would drink to that if you could stomach it. You both moved in a soft cadence— step, hold, step, hold. There was something about the comforting pressure of his skin against your body. The way his hands slid from your waist down to your lower back, just above the bustle of bows at your hips, the pressure of your chest against his body. It made everything else sort of melt away.
You weren't sixteen anymore. You didn't have to keep holding onto your childish grudges. So, Steve Harrington wasn't madly in love with you? What was it your mother used to say? Life's not fair, and then you die. You were both dumb kids, but things could change. Life wasn't fair, and you didn't know if you wanted to keep existing without Steve somewhere in your life.
"Your hair looks nice, actually," you said, after swallowing your pride. "It's really long, actually. I can't believe your dad isn't on your case about it."
He laughed and shook his head. "Well, I'm giving him plenty of other things to totally hate me for." He paused and met your gaze, hesitating. You watched the slow twitch of a smile on his lips, then a tiny eye roll as he got over his own ego. "And it's not highlights. It's sun-in. What about you, huh?"
"Me? Oh, this is all Darlene at Hair Flair. My usual stylist was out, and Darlene is really new to perms. She promised it would be fine, but…" You blew a very crisp curl from your forehead. "I think I'm done with perms forever."
He shook his head. "It's not so bad," he insisted. "You should see my new uniform for work. That's pretty bad. If you're sticking around for the summer, you might even get to see it."
You rolled your eyes, but couldn't fight the amused smile on your lips. This was the Steve that you missed— charming, goofy Steve. But it was also the Steve that gave you butterflies and made you feel like a girl with a stupid crush. It was absolutely devastating how quickly a brief conversation could dig up all of those buried feelings.
"Yeah, well, if it's that bad I have to," you said, biting down on your bottom lip to fight a giddy, girlish smile.
It was hard to look in Steve's eyes for long. You could easily get lost in the softness of them, the earnestness. You had before, until he snapped about how you weren't even listening and you had to clumsily string together what he had said with the odd words that crept through your trance. His lips twitched into the tiniest smile, and you couldn't help but mirror it. You had really missed him.
A camera clicked— once, twice, three times. Some kid Tommy got cheap for the job since he worked for the school paper and was building his portfolio. Steve spun you until you laughed, then pulled you back in. The photographer walked away, satisfied. Your heart thrummed, pulsing, pulsing.
Steve. Wedding. Bourbon. Madonna.
"Hey, do you want to sneak out for a smoke?"
You sat on the trunk of his beamer, satin heels kicking mindlessly. You took a slow drag and relished in the subtle head rush before you exhaled. Steve's hand brushed yours as he took the cigarette from you.
"I don't really do this anymore," he said, holding the cigarette between his teeth. But he took a drag of his own, and blew the smoke out of the side of his mouth. "Nancy thought it was gross, and this kid who hangs around me all the time is on my ass about cancer and secondhand smoke, so… y'know."
"I don't really smoke either," you said with a tiny grin. "Just wanted to get out of there."
He nodded, stepping forward until his leg brushed the bumper. "Yeah? That's fair." He took another drag before handing it back. You watched him as you placed the filter between your lips, where it was already stained pink with your makeup.
Earlier, he had mentioned that there were two years worth of conversations you could be having, but in that moment, your head was woefully empty.
Steve was standing so close, and the cigarette could only last so long. "You look really beautiful tonight," he said. "I mean it, seriously. I'm glad you're not mad at me anymore so I can actually tell you."
You raised a brow, blowing out a thin plume of smoke. "I could still be mad," you insisted, cigarette dangling between your hot-pink nails.
"Your crinkle is gone." He stepped closer, so his knee was between yours, and smoothed his thumb between your brows. "Not mad."
His hand moved into your hair, until he was cupping your jaw. You wondered if he could feel the way your pulse was racing against his fingers. A tiny bit of pressure at your jaw, and he had your face tilted up to meet his.
The moment his lips pressed against yours, you could have sworn you were fourteen and back in Carol's basement, with all the same fluttery, yearning feelings.
And then his tongue slipped past the barrier of your lips and those butterflies turned molten in the pit of your stomach. Heat licked down every nerve, until your entire body felt alive with excitement and need.
He moaned into your mouth, one arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you to the edge of the trunk so your bodies were flush against one another.
It felt like you were on fire— burning up from the outside in. Each lap of his tongue against yours, each moan buzzing against your lips, it just made you feel alive. Sure, you'd been kissed before, but it had never felt quite like this.
The dull thrum of pop music inside of the venue, the June heat persisting even in the dark of the night. His lips tasted like berries and his tongue like gin, and if were possible to get drunk off of that, you would have. You could have stayed there forever, just kissing and kissing until you ran out of air.
"Ah, Fuck," you gasped, pulling back. You dropped the cigarette butt, which had burned down to your fingers, and brought the mildly singed skin to your lips.
You laughed shyly as he stepped back, his lips and cheeks pink as he scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, I don't know if I should have done that."
"No, no," you said, nodding as you tried to find the words to insist it's totally fine, if your stupid, clumsy tongue would cooperate.
His brows knit together, and he gave a sheepish laugh. "You're nodding, but you're also saying no, so it's kind of confusing me."
You pulled him in by his stupid, pink bow tie, until his nose bumped yours and your lips were barely brushing. "Don't think too hard."
He closed the distance.
You kissed Steve until your lips felt a little numb against his, until his hands were under your skirt, squeezing your soft thighs, pushing them apart so his hand can slip higher and higher.
"Steve," you breathed, his name like a prayer.
He pulled back, pupils blown. "Yeah?" His voice was breathless and a little raspy. You'd never heard him like that before.
"Should we get in your car?"
"Yeah," he says, helping you hop down from the trunk. You had lost one of your satin heels somewhere beneath his car, and stood awkwardly as Steve fumbled with his keys. When he finally got his car unlocked, he opened the door to the backseat with a small flourish that he seemed to immediately regret. "After you."
With the doors closed, the backseat was cramped. The bridesmaid dress was bulky with the tulle underskirt, which made getting comfortable a bit of an issue.
"Maybe if you sit up, I can just…" You pushed his shoulders against the backseat and swung one leg over his lap. "Like this?"
He nods eagerly, and immediately runs his hands up your thighs. He leans in, kissing along your throat with hungry, wet smacks. "You know," he began, sucking just beneath your jaw. "I didn't think this was how my night would end."
"No?" You panted, sitting up to help him work your panties down your thighs. He gave up halfway and just tore them where he could, which sent a thrill through you.
He grinned like a dopey idiot and shook his head. His fingers found your slick, needy core and you both moaned at that first touch— exploratory and revealing. "Jesus, not at all."
Your brows knit as you bucked against his fingers, eyes fluttering as his thumb teased over your clit. You weren't totally oblivious—plenty of Steve's girlfriends had come to you and Carol to spill about their exploits. Steve Harrington knew exactly what he needed to do to make his partner melt into a puddle.
"You're so sensitive," he murmured against your skin. "Wish I could just touch you everywhere."
"We don't have time," you panted, breath stuttering as he slid a finger inside of your cunt. You whined at the intrusion, walls fluttering and clenching. "Have to get back for the send off or people will notice if we're missing."
Already, you wondered if Carol and Tommy had noted your absence. Maybe the excitement of the wedding had distracted them, which would give you a little more time. The thought of being caught fucking around outside of their wedding was a little mortifying.
But Steve wasn't in a hurry. His hand moved between your thighs, working you open on his thick fingers. It was hard to complain about timing when it felt so good.
"We can skip foreplay," You panted, head lolling back. "It's fine."
He shook his head, pulling back to meet your eyes. "Are you always this bossy?" He asked, and curled his fingers to rub against a spot that made your eyes roll back. You watched his lips curl into a smirk.
The smug asshole. "Don't be a dick," you murmured. You unsnapped his stupid cummerbund and tried your best to unfasten his pants, but your stupidly big skirt was in the way.
You huffed, trying to push the tulle layers to the side, while Steve watched with thinly veiled amusement. "Looks pretty annoying," he said. He finally pulled his fingers from inside of you and licked them clean. "You could always take it off."
A laugh escaped you, and you shook your head. "No way. This stupid, ugly bridesmaid dress is staying on in case we get caught."
You finally worked the button and zip of his pants open, and immediately pulled his cock from the confines of his briefs. Your stomach did a goddamn somersault at the sight.
Junior year, Amy Davis had talked to you and Carol at a party after she and Steve went all the way. When you asked how it went, she grinned and said, well, he's really big. You had sorely underestimated what that meant.
"Oh, fuck," you murmured, circling your fingers around the base of him. "My hand barely fits around you. How the hell are you going to fit inside of me?"
It wasn't hard to notice the flicker of pure pride in his expression, the sheer ego boost you'd given him. "Well, that's why I wanted to get you stretched on my fingers first. I was being a gentleman."
You gave a slow glide of your fist, heart pounding in your ears. God, you'd fantasized about this so much, and now it was actually happening. He moaned beneath you, hips bucking into your grasp, twitching and leaking precum with each pump.
"Okay, Jesus," he groaned. His eyes were half lidded as he watched you jerking him off. "Fuck, that's good. Like that, just like that."
Your core ached with need, just listening to him moaning beneath you. You bit your lip as you tried your best to hold up your skirts and position yourself to sink down on his cock. "Fuck, can you hold my dress?"
He obeyed quickly, gathering up your dress and holding it so you could see what you were doing. Your thighs were already shaking, so were your hands. God, you were trembling all over with nerves, anticipation, want.
You sank onto his cock slowly, letting yourself adjust to his size. The stretch was uncomfortable at first, but you were so wet and desperate for it that any ache just melted into background noise. The hand that wasn't holding your skirts wrapped around your waist to support your descent.
"God, look at you," he groaned, forehead pressing against yours. "Taking it like a champ, yeah? You feel so goddamn good." You whined softly, taking the last few inches until his cock was fully sheathed within you. He dropped your skirt and just held your jaw so he could plant soft kisses on your lips.
"Steve," you panted as you began to move against him. It wasn't slow or sweet— it was desperate and hungry and carnal. The beamer rocked on its axles in time with your movements, each glide of your hips sent it careening forward.
Your hands dug into the backseat on either side of him to balance yourself as you moved. He kissed you again, slow and sweet, in total juxtaposition to the needy way you fucked yourself onto him.
"Fuck—" His hands slid down to your hips, guiding your movements and giving himself leverage to fuck into you. "You feel so good. So goddamn good."
The windows had gone foggy, so the street lights outside became a dim, golden glow through the windows. You silenced his rambling mouth with another kiss and relish in the feeling of his tongue lapping against yours.
He pulled back, a dopey smile on his lips before he popped a thumb in his mouth to wet it. "Hold on," he panted as he moved his hand beneath your skirt and rubbed your clit. You cried out softly, tightening around him. You could feel your rhythm going jerky and clumsy with just that simple touch. "That's better, isn't it?"
"God, yeah," you moaned, fingers dimpling the leather of the seats. Your thighs shook with the effort to maintain your rhythm as your body wanted to cave to pure pleasure. He grinned, kissing along your jaw and throat as he played with you. "Fuck, Steve. Feels so good."
He moaned against your throat, nipping gently as you rode him desperately. You were so close, and, god, you'd never felt like this in your life. Danny had been fine— good, even! But Steve was so attentive and affectionate, so skilled. Or, god, maybe skill had nothing to do with it. Maybe the wanting was the important part.
As you got closer, your moans got whinier. Sweat dripped down your spine, disappearing into the low back of your bridesmaid dress. The car felt hot and clammy, and you could see trails where moisture dripped down the foggy windows.
"C'mon," he goaded, nipping at your jaw. "I feel you squeezing around me, I know you're right there."
Your stomach flipped, and you whined as you buried your head in his shoulder. Close. So fucking close. You turned your head to kiss him again, and then you were gone.
Your body trembled with the intensity of your climax, as you moaned and gasped into the kiss. He worked you through it, guiding your hips the way you needed, until he came right along with you with a rough groan against your lips.
"I've missed you," you panted against his mouth, breathing hard as you came down. "I've missed you so much."
He closed his eyes, cheeks pink, chest heaving. He kissed your cheek, soft and sweet, and rubbed your thigh beneath your skirts.
"Yeah," he murmured. "I missed you too."
You stayed there for a moment longer, with Steve still buried inside of you. You kissed his throat affectionately, until you finally climbed off of him.
Both of you were wrecked. The pink sateen of your dress was irreparably wrinkled, and the humidity in the car had deflated both of your hairdos. And that wasn't to mention Steve's cum dripping out of you.
"So," you said, sparing a shy glance. "Tommy said you're sticking around Hawkins this fall."
Steve nodded, still a little breathless. "Oh, um, yeah. It's totally lame, but—"
"No," you insisted. "No, I mean, it sounds really nice to me. Definitely better than going to nursing school. I don't even want to go."
He swallowed, and a flicker of something passed across his features. He sat in the silence for a long moment before he cleared his throat. "We should probably head back in before Carol and Tommy send a search party, yeah?"
You bit your lip and nodded. "Yeah, of course." You couldn't hide the giddy affect to your voice, the hope in it.
Maybe this was just how things were always supposed to be. Maybe you had found each other again at just the right time.
But then a week passed, then another. You waited for him to call, or to stop by your window, or even just give you a sign that something had happened. That what you did meant something to him, the way it meant something to you.
Radio goddamn silence.
Tommy and Carol weren't any help. They hadn't heard anything, apparently, but Steve was busy with work, and there's this crazy stuff with his Dad, and it's probably just not top of mind.
It didn't make you feel any better. You couldn't go to Starcourt without feeling like you were navigating a mine field. You'd see Steve, mopping sticky floors or scooping ice cream, but the second he'd notice you, he would tuck tail and flee into the back room.
What an asshole.
When you finally found the will to visit Scoops Ahoy, you could see Steve hiding in the back through closed, frosted glass window. Very clearly watching you as you waited in line to get to the counter.
"Hi, I'm sorry, but could you tell Steve to come out, please?" You asked the girl, Robin, when you reached the front. You thought you'd had French with her one year, but you couldn't remember exactly.
She sighed and pinched her nose. "Why not?" She said with a shake of her head, then smacked the window so he'd come out. "Can you at least buy something?"
You sighed and handed over two dollars. "Uh, flavor of the month. And you can keep the change."
She sighed and handed you the cone. When Steve didn't emerge, she gave a vague gesture towards the door. "Just go on back, I guess."
The back of Scoops Ahoy smelled saccharine and sweet, like waffle cones and sprinkles. It was plain, with a little table and white boards and boxes of supplies stacked around. You knew you shouldn't have been back there— it was invasive and totally crazy of you to just show up at his workplace.
But then there was Steve, leaning against the window pane separating the back room from the storefront, and your heart did a stupid fluttery thing at the sight of him, even in the dumb uniform.
Steve didn't want to look at you— that much was clear. He stared at the sticky tiled floor and scuffed his feet on the floor. You licked your cone of the flavor of the month and wrinkled your nose. Salted coconut? Disgusting.
"Going radio silent after the wedding was a total dick move," you said finally. "Like, that meant something to me, Steve."
"Look, I screwed up, I—" he sighed, running a hand through his hair. When he finally met your gaze, your heart sank. There wasn't a glimpse of the guy you were with at the wedding there. It was like you were back in his bedroom in Junior year arguing again. "I shouldn't have let it go that far."
Shouldn't have let it get that far? Like he wasn't the one to kiss you first and slide his hand under your skirt.
"Let it?" You challenged. "You initiated everything, Steve. I mean, I thought you had a good time. I thought we both did."
Humiliatingly, your lip began to wobble. There was the awful, sick feeling in your gut of mortification and shame. God, you'd been so easy. You hated him hours before, and you still made it so easy for him to get between your legs.
He sighed and shook his head. "I'm not trying to hurt you," he said. Bullshit. "But it shouldn't have happened. It was a mistake, and we both know that."
"If you thought it was such a terrible mistake, you should have called me and told me," you said, your voice thick with the threat of tears. "And you know what? You were exactly right. It shouldn't have happened. I'm a total idiot."
He didn't make a move to stop you as you left. It was sheer luck that you managed to make it to your car before the tears fell in earnest.
A week later, Starcourt Mall burned in a fire. That night, with smoke pouring into the sky, you watched the light to Steve's window click on through the trees. A faint yellow glow in the distance. You hadn't even realized you were worried about him until you felt like you could finally breathe again. How fucked up is that?
You left for college in August. Tommy and Carol were there to see you off. You promised to call every day so you could swap gossip with Carol, and she made you swear that you wouldn't find some new college girl that you thought was way cooler than her.
It wasn't until finals that you got the call. Carol had gone into labor in the morning. The labor was long, but the baby totally healthy. Samantha Renee Hagan, who, according to Debbie, was kind of wrinkly and red and weird looking, but would hopefully get cuter.
When you met her over winter break, you totally disagreed. Samantha was already beautiful— pink cheeks, big brown eyes, soft fair hair. Sure, all babies kind of had that scrunchy, awkward look for a few months, but she was way cuter by a mile.
You sat in their living room, bouncing her in your arms, marveling at how tiny she was. "You sure you don't want to pick a better godfather for her?" You cooed, smiling as she wrapped her hand around your finger.
Carol just laughed. "I swear, you two are absolutely ridiculous," she said. "Both of you, just…" She shook her head and laughed.
"What is that look?" You asked, shifting Samantha in your arms. She cooed sleepily, and you felt a little bit of pride at the fact that she wasn't screaming and wailing like your little cousins did.
She sighed. "It's not a look, it's just my face."
You rolled your eyes, lips turning into a frown. "No, Carol, it's a look. You want to say something, so say it."
There was a tiny glance between her and Tommy, but she just shook her head. "No, it's… it's just, this back and forth thing you both do is really adorable. You're both just so… serious about it."
God, of course you were serious. Steve was a serious asshole and he seriously hurt you. Again. And sharing a godchild meant an entire lifetime of seeing each other at birthdays and holidays and you didn't know if you could stomach it.
In March, you came home for spring break. A quick trip to visit Tommy and Carol and the baby, and to just get away from the pressure of school for a little while.
And, really, you should have known better. Things were never normal in Hawkins, and they hadn’t been for a long time. There were murders, and then the drug dealer guy you had homeroom with in '84 was the suspect.
Things were fucking weird.
And through it all, you were babysitting. Stuck in Tommy and Carol's little starter home with a three month old who didn't do much other than sleeping and crying for formula. At least she was still young enough that you could get away with watching whatever tapes you wanted.
She dozed in your arms as you watched a VHS tape of St. Elmo's Fire. Rob Lowe was pretty dreamy, but Carol thought Jud Nelson was way hotter. You weren't sure that you could trust her taste if she married a guy who impressed her by burping the alphabet.
After the movie ended, you eased a sleeping Samantha into her crib and turned on the monitor. You laid down on their couch and grabbed a coke from the fridge and watched a late-night game show with a yawn.
Just as you began to doze, the house rattled a bit. You sat up, heart thrumming as the rattle began a full on quake. The baby wailed in the other room, and you tried to keep your footing as you hurried down the hall to grab her.
What were you even supposed to do in an Earthquake? Get in a bathtub? Hide under a table? How the hell were you supposed to know?
So you sat, huddled among all of the bath toys and soap bottles that had come crashing down and held her tightly until the shaking finally stopped.
You ran to the phone once you were sure that it was safe to get out, but the lines were down. A fallen phone line, probably, but it was awfully inconvenient. You wrapped Samantha in a blanket and walked out onto the lawn. Car alarms wailed into the night, but no one knew what was happening.
By morning, you still didn't know, and there was still no sign of Tommy and Carol. All they'd been doing was parking at Lover's Lake to fool around, which, Carol had confessed, was an all-too-rare occurrence with a baby in the house. You just figured they would have rushed home to check on the baby if it were possible.
Maybe there were fallen trees or debris, or something. Maybe they just physically couldn't get home.
One of the neighbors said he tried to drive into town and saw a weird, red chasm in the ground that cut through Olive Street. He said he threw in a brick from his work-truck and it just fell and fell and fell. He didn't even hear it stop.
Another said he saw military trucks coming in, that something bad must've happened, like an attack or something. Who knows? Just another day in Hawkins.
Two days, and you hadn't heard from Carol or Tommy. Their car was missing, and there was a gash through the lake that led into the town.
You put up missing posters with their parents at the Red Cross checkpoint in Hawkins High School. The gym was packed of displaced people, and you kept hoping you'd see a flash of red hair or freckles or just hear Tommy's obnoxious laugh.
Steve saw you first. You felt his eyes before you saw them. He dropped the box of clothes he'd been donating and rushed over, one hand on your arm, one hand on Samantha's back.
"Hey, what're you doing here?" He asked, eyes scanning over your face. "You okay? Why do you have Sammie? Is she hurt? Are you?"
You swallowed, shaking your head. "No, we're fine," you insisted. "We're safe, just… I was babysitting while Tommy and Carol went out, and then the earthquake happened…" Your throat felt tight as you let yourself think the worst for the first time. "No one's seen or heard from them since Thursday. I put up posters, but if they aren't here…"
You both knew what that would mean. You bounced a squirming Samantha. It was noisy and hot in the gym. People were crying, and injured, and everything about it just felt wrong. Like this wasn't really Hawkins anymore. Like you'd woken up in a terrible dream.
"Hey, they brought in the national guard, and FEMA, and shit," he said, giving a weak smile. "I'm sure they're just… a little lost."
He didn't sound very convinced. You didn't feel very convinced either. Samantha cried in your arms, but Steve carefully eased her into his own. "Hey, why don't I take Sammie for a bit? You can go get some rest somewhere. Who's taking her tonight?"
You shrugged and shook your head noncommittally. "Uh, Carol's mom doesn't think it's a good idea for them," you said softly, with a scant glance towards here parents. "Her dad's barely sober… and now with Carol missing…" You cleared your throat, sniffling. "And I know Tommy wouldn't want his baby girl in that house with his asshole dad, you know? So I guess that leaves it to me."
Steve shook his head. "No, that's bullshit," he argued. "Call Debbie and tell her you have to go back to school, and she needs to get her ass back into town."
"No way, Debbie is a total mess," you pushed back. "No. I can handle Samantha. I'm her godmother for a reason. Carol and Tommy trust me to take care of her."
"And me," he insisted. "They trusted both of us. So don't be a goddamn martyr. You go back to school, and I'll take care of Sammie."
You scoffed. "A martyr? Steve, her parents are missing. I'm just trying to do my best to keep her safe and loved and happy. I can re-enroll in the fall after everything in Hawkins is back to normal."
Steve made a face. There was a flash of knowing, of fear there that made your pulse quicken. "I'll stay with you." Before you could argue, he held up a hand. "Don't say anything. I can tell you haven't gotten any real sleep in days. Have you even eaten?"
"No, not really. She's been really freaked out since the earthquakes, she's hardly slept either."
Steve nodded. "Alright. Why don't I handle her, and you can go grab a sandwich from my friend Robin over there?" He pointed across the gym. "Go eat, grab a cot and take a nap. We'll figure everything out when you wake up. Maybe Tommy and Carol will be here by the time you're conscious again."
He gave a weak smile that you couldn't return.
You had the sandwich and sat on a cot, and outside of the window, you watched the sky turn ashen. As you watched the thick gray snow fall from the sky, wondered if you should have taken Steve up on his offer to get out of Hawkins after all.
Thank you for reading!!! This is basically all set up for the rest of the fic, which revolves around them raising Sammie during the events of season 5... and maybe after?
Please let me know if you're interested in seeing more of these two!
hiding your face in best friend’s steve’s chest after a long day and when you finally look at him he says “there she is…” in the sweetest flirtiest voice
jbbartram-illu
2087
origamiaround
dededos
germansingergirl
turnnoffyourmind
