#Billy Hargrove cheating

[buckysgrace]

6. Kiss Me Deadly

Now That We Don’t Talk

Billy Hargrove x Fem!Mayfield OC/Tommy Hagan x Fem!OC

CW: Stepcest, cheating

Kim

Glitter and ribbon streamers were strung through her hair, decorated delicately by Nora after she had eaten her cake. Tommy’s mother had fussed about how it would ruin her hairstyle, but she didn’t mind. It probably looked better than it had before. 

She took a breather in the pantry, feigning the need for more supplies as she gave herself one second of peace. She was terrified that everyone knew, that everyone could see the crime that she had just committed with Billy. She was overthinking it.

But she didn’t regret what she had done and maybe that was the worst part. She missed Billy’s touch, missed all of them. All of those old feelings were front and present now, making it incredibly difficult for her to even sit across from him in the same room. She wanted to sit by him, to be able to touch him. She could still feel him, even now. 

“What are you doing?” She jolted, holding her palm over her chest as Billy entered the room with her. She chewed on her bottom lip, watching the way he shut the door behind him as she gestured towards the untouched items next to her. 

“Oh,” She paused for a moment, “Getting more paper plates. Why?” She asked him curiously, tongue feeling heavy in her mouth. It had been risky enough when they were on their own, they definitely couldn’t do it now with everyone nearby. 

She inhaled deeply as she got a better look at him, realizing that he wasn’t here for any sexual needs. He looked angry, furious. Her heart beat slowly but roughly inside of her chest as she held her fingers together, trying to swallow the lump in the back of her throat. 

“She looks like me,” He said, looking rather disheveled as he leaned against the wall, “She fucking looks like me.” He accused her roughly, eyes flashing in disbelief as he waited for her to answer.

There was no shying away, no turning her head and hiding from his accusation. She’d thought about that same statement for many years. And the older Nora grew, the more she had slowly begun to realize that it may be true. That it probably was. Nora just didn’t resemble Tommy. But still. There was a chance. 

“Billy-,” She started slowly, trying to keep her composure calm, “I don’t-,”

“You don’t what?” He said with a laugh, “Is it true? Is she mine?” He demanded, pointing to himself roughly. She felt a rush of emotions smacking her around, nearly making it difficult to breathe. But she wouldn’t break down, not yet. 

“I don’t know,” She told him honestly, “I never tested anything. I couldn’t-, I couldn’t tell Tommy that. Maybe.” She felt numb as the words rolled off of her tongue. It was pathetic and not much of an answer, but it was all she had. She had spent much time deciding that she would be the only one to know this truth. Well, up until Billy decided to show up once again. Now things were messy. 

“Jesus, Kim.” He looked at her exasperated, like she had done something wrong. She bit down on her tongue for a second, frustrated by the way he was rubbing his palms across his face. She’d spent the past few years alone, understanding that if anyone was to ever become suspicious that it would all be over with. He had left her alone, with no way of getting a hold of him. It wasn’t her fault. 

“Don’t,” She said sternly, “You left me. I had no way of contacting you. I didn’t even know you were alive until Tommy said you were coming here.” She reminded him roughly, her throat burning from the large lump that had grown in the back of it. She knew she was probably a terrible person, but she wasn’t going to make Nora suffer because of it. And despite all things, Tommy was good to Nora and she loved him. 

“So that makes things right?” Billy scoffed as he looked at her, eyes slightly glistened over. She looked at him in frustration, unsure of how he could just think she wanted to do something so terribly to him. To Tommy. To her daughter. Many people would be hurt if the truth came out. 

“What did you want me to do?” She asked him seriously, “How was I supposed to get a hold of you? You ran off. You erased me from your life.” She felt angry now. Furious that she had been so easy for him to toss aside. She would’ve left with him to California if he had asked. She would’ve done anything for him. But he didn’t want her. She’d always just been something cheap and easy for him to get his hands on. 

“You made a whole big fantasy for yourself though, didn’t you?” He cocked his eyebrows as he looked at her accusingly, nose curled up like he was disgusted with her. It hurt. It made her feel really shitty. She’d been disgusted with herself for a long time now and didn’t need him to confirm it. 

“I don’t owe you anything,” She said as she fought the growing lump in the back of her throat, “I did what I thought I had to do. I couldn’t go back home to our parents. I don’t know what you want from me.” She wiped at her cheek, blinking roughly to try and keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. She didn’t want to cry.

“Honesty would’ve been nice.” His voice was raw as he spoke, like he was genuinely upset. She shook her head as she turned from him, blinking roughly before she took another deep breath. Today was supposed to be a happy day. 

“How?” She asked him seriously, “How was I supposed to tell you? She might not be yours. We don’t know. I don’t know.” She reminded him, feeling awful all over again. She used to debate about going off on her own with Nora, but she had no support. It was scary. She didn’t know what to do, especially if Tommy was her father. She didn’t know what was right or wrong. 

“She doesn’t look like Tommy, that’s for sure.” He replied dryly as he crossed his arms over his chest. She felt as if she’d been backed into a small corner. 

“You can’t just come in here and act like I owe you something,” She said at last, “It’s not fair.” She sniffled as the tears fell free this time, her cheeks growing raw as she rubbed her fists across her cheeks. This was too messy for her to work through. 

“What’s not fair is you marrying him,” He said at last, “What were you thinking?” He swung it back at her again, making her stare at him in disbelief. What had she been thinking? 

“I dated him to keep your dad from getting suspicious because you said it would be a good idea,” She reminded him, “You never told me you loved me. Or that you wanted to be with me. Tommy at least gives me stability.” She spit out all at once, angry tears continuing to fall from her eyes. 

“And how is that treating you?” He asked her seriously, “Because you look pretty fucking bored.” He shot back at her, making the tension in the room grow thicker. They were both angry, that was very clear. 

“You don’t know anything.” Her voice wobbled this time, her throat burning as she gripped the paper plates tightly in her hands. She needed to get out of here, to get away from him. She couldn’t deal with him right now. 

“He doesn’t even help you,” He spit out, “He looks like he could care less if you stay together or not.” He expressed the truth once again, but she shook her head quickly. She had already decided that Tommy was allowed to do whatever he wanted. It was only fair. 

“I’m not fighting with you about this.”  She dismissed at last, no longer wanting to talk to him. She felt sick, ridden with guilt and shame. She was disgusted with herself, angry that she had let herself pretend like everything would be fine. 

He stared at her, eyes still holding a fiery gaze for a split second before he relaxed. His shoulders sagged as he exhaled roughly, wiping his palm across his forehead. She rubbed her fingers across her cheeks once again. 

She distracted herself as she heard the door opening, gripping a handful of plates and silverware and whatever else she could grab within her arms. She listened fearfully, heart hammering roughly inside of her chest. 

“Is everything okay?” Tommy’s voice entered the room, confusion laced in his tone as he stepped inside. She held the stuff close to her chest, trying to keep the panic from boiling over. 

“Kim.” Billy’s tone was warmer, softer this time around. She closed her eyes for a brief second, knowing that this wasn’t the time to discuss who Nora’s father was. Not today. 

“Everything is fine,” She said harshly, blinking quickly to keep her fresh tears from falling, “Here’s the plates.” She turned, forcing a bright smile onto her lips as she held everything tightly to her chest. Tommy wrinkled his eyebrows together.

“Alright,” He nodded his head, “Let’s get back to it then.” He smiled as he held his hand out, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. She nodded her head, grateful for the escape as she quickly fled. She couldn’t be in here for one more second.

Billy’s words stayed with her the rest of the day, truly making it difficult for her to focus like she had before. She was stupid. So, so stupid. She couldn’t believe how easily she had fallen, how she had made her situation so much more complicated.

“Did you have fun?” She asked as she got Nora tucked into bed that night. Her strawberry blonde hair was filled with pink and yellow streamers. She had decided against taking them out, she had been so excited about them after all. 

“Yeah,” Nora grinned happily, her bed filled with the new baby dolls she had gained, “I liked the cake the best.” She giggled softly, her eyes fluttering with exhaustion as she yawned deeply. 

“Did you?” She laughed as she dropped the picture book against her chest, “I did too. I’m glad you had fun.” She hummed as Nora scooted closer to her, rubbing her cheek against Kim’s shoulder. 

“Are you sleepy?” Nora asked softly, eyes fluttering shut as Kim gave her a little kiss on her forehead. It felt safe here, at least for now. Nora could be upset with her in the future, but for now it was fine. She understood right now at the moment. 

“Very.” Kim nodded her head softly, drifting her fingers across Nora’s forehead and nose. Then across her cheeks. She was out a few seconds later, drifting into deep sleep as Kim continued to watch her. She didn’t want to get up, but she needed to.

She ensured the little night light was on, just in case Nora got out through the night. Then she made sure that her stuffed rabbit was nearby to grab as it was her favorite. But she hoped that she’d sleep well tonight after all of their fun activities. 

She gently shut the door before she headed down the hallway, confirming that Tommy was already passed out in their room too. He had to work tomorrow so it was no big surprise to her. He needed to rest. And she wanted to hide away in her shame. 

“You’re not going to tell him then?” Billy’s voice made her sigh as she placed a hand over her head, knowing that she shouldn’t be surprised that he brought it up again so soon. He’d been watching her closely the rest of the afternoon. She knew he was upset and rightfully so, but she was exhausted. 

“What do you want me to say?” She asked him softly, turning to face him. She felt her heart flutter in her chest at their close proximity. 

“I want you to be honest.” He told her sternly but not in a condescending manner. Her pulse quickened underneath her skin, making her press her palm down against her chest lightly. She didn’t need to panic over this. She’d be fine. 

“I don’t know,” She huffed in frustration, close to breaking down again, “I just can’t do this right now.” She told him roughly, wishing he would just leave her alone. She used to pray for his return, that he would walk through the door and beg for her back. But that had been a silly dream. They couldn’t work out. Things were too complicated now. 

He stared at her for a long time, his hardened expression slowly fading as he drifted his eyes towards hers. She wondered if he could tell how much this was hurting her. She didn’t have any explanations for him right now. 

“I love you.” His words were soft, gentle like the first breeze in autumn. Her jaw went slack, eyes widened as she stared at him. She had to be dreaming. She had surely heard him wrong. How could he say such a thing? Now especially. 

“Stop.” She demanded as she felt her heart open up, singing for joy as everything else crashed around her. She grew angry with him, wondering why he took so long to say such a thing. They could be in a very different place now had he not waited. Why did he wait? Did he like seeing her suffer? 

“I love you,” He clarified as he took another step forward, closing the gap between the two of them, “I was so fucking stupid for leaving, but I couldn’t stand to see you marry him. I was so selfish. Look at you. He doesn’t treat you like you deserve.” He whispered softly, making her heart ache as he began to rub his thumbs across her skin. 

“Billy.” She whispered underneath her breath, shaking her head as they shared the same sorrow. His eyes were glazed over in the same manner, a look of regret etched on his features. 

“I’m a lot of things,” He laughed between his tears, looking a little angry at himself, “But I know I would treat you well. I would. I love you. Everything about you.” He spoke freely as he held onto her, forcing her to keep her eyes locked in on his. Everything hurt. She had wanted to hear this for so long and now she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t believe it. 

“You don’t love me.” She spit out between her tears, chest rising and falling harshly. She didn’t know how everything could go so wrong in a matter of days. This was bad. Very bad. She knew what her answer would be, so she needed him to be lying to her. 

“Then I’ve never felt like this with anyone else,” He said harshly, “I won’t take that back.” He dropped his head against hers, making her sniffle harshly as she gripped his wrists softly. 

“You’re making this harder.” She told him truthfully, shaking her head in dismay as a soft chuckle left his lips. She was so deeply in love with him, but that didn’t erase everyone else. There were more things at play than just their feelings. 

“Come away with me.” He begged as his lips fell to her forehead, kissing her skin gently as she nuzzled herself against him. She wished she could pull away. 

“How?” She asked him softly, “I have no job. You don’t either. Nora is four, her whole life is here. I can’t just leave.” She reminded him, unsure of where they would even go. She supposed she could ask Sam, but that would be a whole other conversation. She didn’t want to go there. Not just yet. 

“Then we work it out here,” He promised as he brought his lips against the corner of her mouth, “I should’ve never let you go.” He sighed softly, tickling her skin as she closed her eyes gently. She savored the feeling of him, the way everything burned inside of her.

“Do you mean it?” She asked him seriously as she pulled away, searching his eyes for any lie. She couldn’t have him just leave again, escape through her fingertips. She needed to know that he was serious. 

“I love you, Kimberly Rose.” His smile grew slowly, but seriously. She felt a sense of relief spread through her body, her joy bursting into bright flames as her heart beat to the rhythm of his words. He loved her. “I love you too.” She breathed out quickly, nodding her head rapidly as the tears fell even harder this time. It was almost poetic as he began to brush her tears away from her eyes. She began to do the same, admiring the feeling of his slick skin against her thumbs. 

“Yeah?” He chuckled softly, looking lighter than he had the whole time he’d been there. She nodded her head in agreement, inhaling deeply. This was so messy. 

“I have for a long time.” She laughed as she wiped the rest of his tears away, smiling gently as she pulled his hand away gently. She kissed his fingertips, wishing they could just be together. This would’ve been much easier if they had just admitted their feelings years ago. 

“What do we do now?” He asked her softly, moving his hands so he could tuck her hair behind her ears. She didn’t know. She had no clue. She didn’t want to hurt Nora, or Tommy. Even if she wasn't in love with him, she still cared for him greatly. 

“I don’t think you could convince Tommy to leave me,” She teased softly, “That would make things easier.” She thought out loud, wishing there was some simple solution. There really wasn’t. 

“Hm.” He thought in agreement, making her shake her head in disagreement. They couldn’t place the blame on Tommy. They needed to be the one to do this.

“I was joking.” She said quickly, shaking her head as he lazily rested against the counter. She frowned, watching the plans form behind his eyes. 

“It’s not a bad idea.” He said as he chewed on his bottom lip, tapping his fingers against the counter as he continued to think about it. 

“Billy,” She breathed in deeply, “If you mean what you say, then this is serious. You can’t change your mind. I have a daughter.” She told him instead, wanting him to know that she wouldn’t just leave Nora. 

“We have a daughter.” He clarified, making her heart soar in her chest. She felt a smile form on her lips, knowing it was more complicated than that. 

“She takes a lot of work.” She didn’t know how Nora would react to the news, or if they should tell her at all. Tommy was the only father she had ever known. 

“She’s like her mom,” He teased as he traced her lips with his thumb, “I can handle that.”

Tags: @cassandracorvo @jessicar401 @mrprettywhenhecries @sassidykassidy

[silassinclair]

You Lost Me Forever

(Cheating Billy.H x Fem!Reader)

Summary: In which Y/n L/n’s boyfriend Billy Hargrove cheats on her. Billy tries to win her back only to realize she was never meant for him. She was meant for her best friend…

CW: Cheating, Angst, Mentions of throwing up

“Billy?” Y/n said when she knocked on his bedroom door. His Father and stepmom were out of town and Max let her in, though Max looked a little conflicted about it. Y/n shrugged off the young girl’s behavior and continued on into the house anyways. As usual his music was turned up loud as can be behind his closed door. It all started when Billy said he was sick and couldn’t make it to school today. So without telling him she decided to bring some medicine and food as a surprise to cheer him up.

Behind the door she heard him curse out loud and the music got louder. This confused Y/n because shouldn’t he be bed ridden? Why was he moving around so much when he said over the phone that he was so sick that he couldn’t move a single muscle?

“Hey you okay in there? You shouldn’t be moving so much of you’re sick!” The teen girl said and knocked more. She reached for the door knob and wiggled it only for it to be locked. “Billy let me in I brought some stuff for you to help you feel better!”

Over the sound of the music his voice could be heard when Y/n put her ear against the door.

But so could another.

“Billy stop pushing me around so much! I’m moving so calm the fuck down!”

“Shut the fuck up you bitch she’ll hear you. Grab your shit and leave through the window.”

Y/n flinched away from the door upon hearing another voice inside, being a female’s. Her heart dropped and so did the plastic bag in her hand containing the things she purchased. She thought that he wouldn’t be like this anymore. Y/n thought Billy loved her and was true to all the things he said.

Y/n realized that all the repeated times he’d say “I adore you” or “You’re it for me” were all lies. This whole time he had been spewing lies and going behind her back.

He never changed. And she fell for it.

“Billy” Y/n said in a monotone. The music was a little quieter now.

More rustling and the sound of the squeaky window opening. “Yeah babe?!” was said on the other side of the wooden door.

“I’m leaving.” Y/n said scarily calm. She put her clammy hands in her pockets and walked down the hall. She passed by Max who gave her a sad look. Y/n nodded slowly with glassy eyes and walked out the door without another word. She wasn’t going to let this get under her skin. Yes Y/n loved Billy and could sympathize with him, but she could never truly have him reciprocate her loyalty that she had for him. He will always be the same old man whore jumping from girl to girl leaving a trail of broken hearts.

Outside Y/n saw a girl in a dress jogging away from Billy’s back yard with a bag clutched in her arms. Yup, that was her. Though she couldn’t tell who specifically because it was 9 o’clock at night. Step by step Y/n could feel her chest growing more heavy, begging for sweet release. A scream, cry, maybe throwing up? But no, she kept it all down and locked her sorrow away. Instead she would replace said sorrow with anger and disappointment. Anger at herself for believing his bullshit and disappointment in Billy for thinking with his head, just not the one up there but the one down there.

“Y/n?! Hey where you goin?” Y/n turned around and saw Billy who called her. He ran to her in the night, his skin glowing from the after-sex. He looked as healthy as a horse, clearly not sick. “I got your bag of stuff. I left the food in the fridge, but turns out I wasn’t as bad as I thought. I just threw up and I started feeling better.” He said with a grin and wrapped his arms around Y/n’s waist. The light of the moon shone on him, his smile looking ever so beautiful. The smile of a liar rather than a lover. The smile of a cheating con.

“Bullshit.” Y/n muttered with her gaze downcast. She didn’t want to look at him. Billy tilted his head down to see her eyes, but whenever he moved she’d move her head away. The blonde let go of her and crossed his arms over himself. Worry pooled in his gaze.

“What,? I didn’t hear you, you okay?” He asked with concern. The night couldn’t tell if he were genuine or not.

Y/n looked up at him with a firm gaze. Tears pooled in her e/c eyes but she refused to blink and let them fall. “We’re over Billy.” She said. Billy’s mouth hung open for a moment but then pressed into a firm line.

“What do you mean ‘over’?” He said with furrowed brows.

“We’re done Billy. I’m breaking up with you. I can’t do it anymore. We just weren’t made for each other.” Y/n said and turned 180. She took a step but felt her body be pulled back from her arm. Billy’s hand clutched her bicep, his grip never wavering.

“Y/n what the fuck are you talking about? Give me a damn good fucking reason because I fucking love you!” He yelled. The moonlit darkness grew an eerie silence. Anticipation hung in the dry hair, waiting for the girl’s response.

“You’re a pussydrunk liar and you know it. I heard her in you room Billy and I saw her run from your house with her tail between her legs. Please don’t try to bullshit lie your way out of this Hargrove, because I won’t believe you. I never will again.”

Y/n looked at him over her shoulder and sent him a glare that could cut through steel. But he still wouldn’t let her go. Not after such a foolish mistake.

“You weren’t supposed to be there.” Was all he could say. He couldn’t think of any other excuse. Y/n had him down and read by the nail. She was right, nothing but lust clouded his mind. And it even got in the way of the best thing that has ever happened to him.

Scoffing, she ripped her arm from his grip. “Don’t touch me with your fucking hands. Did you even wash them after having them knuckle deep in that whore’s rental pussy? Give me a fucking break.”

Billy snarled and felt his fist clench. “Now you’re just going to far-”

“FAR UP MY FUCKING ASS! WE’RE DONE! I LOVED YOU BUT YOU SEEM TO LOVE YOUR DESIRE FOR OTHER WOMEN MORE! SO SORRY FOR BEING MAD THAT MY BOYFRIEND WAS GOING BEHIND MY BACK FOR WHO KNOWS HOW DAMN LONG! I’M NOT EVEN SAD BECAUSE DEEP DOWN I KNEW IT WAS FUCKING COMING BECAUSE OF HOW MUCH OF YOUR WHORE REPUTATION PROCEEDS YOU!”

Never has she blown up on someone and never has it felt better. She feel like she could breathe again. Billy only stood in shock at her outburst.

“I-I’m sorry.” He started, “I’ll never do it again. It’s just an old bad habit and I can’t control it and you know how I am! My Father and all-”

Y/n looked at him with a disgusted expression. “Guilt tripping? Please, try with any other air headed bitch but not me. But old habits seem to die hard don’t they? Maybe you’ll learn your fucking lesson.”

“I will learn my lesson!” Now he was down on his knees. His arms wrapping around her hips while his head was to her stomach. “I’ll learn, please just take me back baby I can’t live without you.”

He looked up only to be met with her sad smile that didn’t reach her dull eyes. “I told you my ex cheated on me. I was with him for four years and loved him dearly. You knew how I felt about cheating yet here you are fucking around in a way you know will hurt me the worst. So no. I won’t forgive you. I hope you fucking rot in guilt.”

She pushed him off with a final shove and his tailbone hit the pavement, but he couldn’t feel the pain. He looked so pathetic on the ground. Looking up from his spot only to be met with the icy stare of the girl he lost forever.

“Never talk to me again.”

And she walked away.

[chickensoupleg]

2 random aus since I got in a mood.

Eddie living near a lake that had rumours of mermaids living in there. The lake being huge and deep, so deep that Eddie would joke it's just a mini ocean in his own backyard. He and his uncle Wayne would go fishing there all the time, and so it was a very comforting place. Especially with the mermaid rumours. Eddie even would put the 'mermaid lake' into some of his campaigns, just for fun. Sometimes it was an important feature, where he would encourage his players to visit it, or maybe even have the big bad appear there. Then suddenly the rumours come true, when he's just writing and playing songs by the lake and hears singing coming from it. He would look out to the lake and see eyes staring back at him before disappearing into the deep. Of course, nobody believes him, because sure. The rumours are popular, but it doesn't mean people actually believe anyone would actually see them. Eddie is persistent though and keeps visiting. Even if he doesn't see whatever he saw that day, he gets to be by the lake, which is just added perk. Then he sees the mermaid for real, and turns out mermaids know English. He also learns that mermaids can be dudes, even if it's far more popular for them to be female. His mermaid friend finds it hilarious, because if mermaids were only girls than how would they procreate? Like bacteria? Which, when he puts it like that, does sound kind of stupid. Anyways, he learns the mermaid is named Billy, and that he's not actually from here at all. Which, obviously, sounds insane to Eddie, because where else would he have come from? It's a lake, and as far as Eddie is aware, not connected to the ocean in the slightest. It is a sole standing body of water as far as he's aware. Billy, the prick, laughs at him. Apparently it is connected to other bodies of water, it's just not feasible by human standards. There's a hidden underground tunnel apparently, and Billy just sort of... migrated there. Accidentally. The tunnel is somehow a powerful current, and only works one way. So he's been stuck there for years. There are a handful of other mermaids in the lake, but they don't come up since they can breathe underwater just fine despite appearing human. Ergo, they never interact with humans much either. The only reason Billy even showed up was because he liked the music Eddie was playing. Which launches Eddie into a whole plethora of questions, because this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Billy only answers some of them freely, and makes Eddie work to get other answers. They grow close, and since then Eddie makes it his mission to continually visit his new friend. Billy isn't much of a nerd as Eddie is, but they connect with their shared appreciation for the metal genre, even if Eddie has to be the one to supply it. In return, Billy gives him cool shells and rocks he finds. And a crab once. Which was weird, because Eddie didn't know the lake had crabs. They get close, and maybe even a little affectionate. Who knows.

Basically just centaur Harringroveson AU. Steve is a cervitaur, Eddie is a centaur, and Billy is a bariaur. They're just vibing honestly. Maybe Eddie gets the fun time of watching Steve and Billy fight by antler/horns. And then help them because they got stuck to each other. Which happens a lot, because something in their hindbrains wants to just slam their antlers/horns against each other. Dominance, or whatever it is supposed to be. Eddie certainly isn't up for the task. Fun times when Steve casually shed his antlers. Or shed his velvet, where Eddie has to go hide because it is a gory sight. He finds it metal, but also his stomach can only take so much. Billy finds it equally as gross, but his stomach is much stronger for this. Eddie is probably like... a black thoroughbred horse. Or a mustang. Just... a runner of a guy. Steve is either a common white-tailed deer or a red deer. Just for the idea of the red deer being huge and the whole King Steve kind of idea. Billy is a rambouillet ram or a rocky mountain bighorn. Just... stocky but also has a sort of glamour to him. Of course just to make it fair everyone gets the fun perk of being centaur hybrid things. Maybe El can be a unicorn centaur, as a psychic treat. (Oh my gosh unicorn Vecna.... Dark crispy unicorn Vecna.... Flesh monster...) Also I don't think cars exist in this universe, because it would be very awkward trying to fit in one, unless they were very specifically built and long to accommodate the rest of them. Oh they'd be so long. So either it is long cars, or everyone walks everywhere. Alternatively, wagons for passengers. Just for extra fun (mostly just for me) Robin is also a cervitaur, and she jokes that she stole Steve's antlers when hers come in when Steve's falls off. She'd be a reindeer, which is why it works. It also means they can put trinkets on their antlers year round. When Steve's falls off they go right on Robin's. Fun fact, sheeps can swim. Billy is not banned from his water. However, sheep can also sink because wool is a thing. Billy has to shave. Extra treat: Demotaurs. Why not.

[milf-harrington]

im in a "steve has a good mum" mood so here are some random but positive-ish headcanons i have about her

ive got one where she's australian literally just because

she comes from a big family who didnt approve of her choice in husband so she hasnt spoken to them in years (a regret on her part, but she's stubborn and proud)

she had steve out of wedlock so her parents dont speak to her but she visits her sister a lot

she's an only child who married into the harrington family for the name

she's an extravagant socialite, maybe a model or a small-time actress

she's respected in town bc she's super involved in the community

she loves steve but resents what his father turned him into so she avoids him through his teen years (a regret)

she loves steve but doesnt know how to be a mother, she genuinely thinks she does enough by giving him freedom and money

she loves steve, he was her best friend when he was a kid bc her husband was always working and even if she lost him for a bit during the king steve years shes proud of who he grows into

she follows her husband around to stop him from cheating bc she doesnt want him to tear their family apart

she kind of a mix of joyce byers and karen wheeler

she's a mean girl at heart which is where steve gets it from and they gossip in the kitchen

she acts dumb on purpose so that people let their guard down around her (she does this to her husband as well)

she's the actual brains in the family

if she found out steve was bi she'd be scared for him and would run interference so his dad wouldnt find out if he had a boy over

she comes back to hawkins as soon as she hears about starcourt

she heads back when she hears about the murders in hawkins bc steve isnt answering the fucking phone and she gets there right after the earthquakes

she's french

she's italian

she has a nickname for steve that has nothing to do with his name and he either finds it sweet or deeply embarrassing

[cbrosa-archived]

no one:

billy, drunk at the karaoke singing @ steve:

[andvys]

Eyes don't lie ⭐︎ S.H

⭐︎ Summary: Nancy got everything she wanted but at what cost? Her eyes won't leave you, her hands crave to touch you, she finds herself in daydreams with you, wondering what it would be like to kiss you, to feel your lips on hers instead of his -- the girl Steve left for her.

And Steve, he is still haunted by what he threw away for a girl he could never love the way he loved... loves you. And while they are longing for something, chasing for someone that they both broke, you are only out for one thing, revenge.

⭐︎ Pairing: Nancy Wheeler x fem!reader | Steve Harrington x fem!reader | mentions of Eddie Munson x fem!reader and Billy Hargrove x fem!reader

⭐︎ Warnings: cheating, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of breakups, previous steve x reader, stancy, angst, this is some unhinged au of I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss (iykyk). they're all in college (in Hawkins), mentions of affairs, no happy ending... yet? no smut yet, but it's coming I promise

⭐︎ Author's note: This was supposed to be a oneshot but after talking to @hellfire--cult (as always, my hero) we came up with more filth and this will definitely be getting a part two so buckle up hehe. Also thank you for choosing the title bby!!!

Also this took me way too long to post but I lost inspiration AND now I got it back and I can't wait to get started on part two!

Nancy could not focus on anything Professor Harris was saying, she couldn't care less about the numbers he was writing on the board, her mind was elsewhere and her eyes too, no longer focused on the green board or the young Professor that all the girls were lusting over as they sat there in their short skirts, twirling their hair and blinking at him cutely. 

While everyone was focused on him, her attention was fully on someone it should not be on, but no matter how many times she tried to look away, her eyes would always find their way back to you, tracing every inch of you, from your hair to your face, from your nose down to your lips, from your neck to your chest and then down to your exposed legs, skirt riding up on your thighs, skin glowing softly. 

Your eyelashes kiss the skin beneath your eyes every time you blink, your tongue traces your bottom lip before you bite down on it in concentration, your hair falls over your shoulder, locket nestled perfectly in your cleavage. 

She can smell your perfume from here, every time you pass by her, she gets a whiff of it and it causes goosebumps to rise up on her skin. 

Something in her belly stirs every time she sees you and it's nothing new, it happened the very first time she laid her eyes on you but back then you were always in the presence of the guy she now calls her boyfriend and back then, things were different, so very different. She thought that it was jealousy that she was feeling every time she saw you two together, she could not stop watching you both, but she placed her focus on the wrong person, she wanted the wrong person, she went after the wrong person.

Nancy was horrible for what she did,  and she knew it from the moment she started chasing Steve Harrington when he was still yours and it got even worse when she stole him from you. 

She killed the light in your eyes, she caused the sadness that found home in you, she took away your happiness and for what? Her eyes still follow you, her stomach still tingles and burns when she sees you talking to someone who stares at you a little too intensely, who looks at you the way he once did every time he pulled away from your lips and she can’t understand why, she refuses to let herself see why. 

Regret resides in her, it’s gnawing at her, making her sick on the inside for what she did to you and the feeling only intensifies when he kisses her – she blames the guilt that settled into her body, for making her obsessed with you, for making her unable to look away from you or search for you in the crowd. 

She isn’t the only one, she can see the way he still looks at you, she can see the longing gazes between you both, the way he stops listening to her every time his hazel eyes find you, the way his lips curl into a smile before it becomes a sad one when he stares for too long. She knows that he thinks about you, she knows that he imagines you when he is inside of her, she knows it when he buries his face in the crook of her neck, refusing to look at her, holding her tighter and moaning louder, though biting his lip just so he won’t say your name when he comes undone. 

Steve Harrington may be her boyfriend now but he doesn’t belong to her and she knows it, he is still yours, he always will be. 

And a part of her, doesn’t give a damn fuck – she just can’t see it yet, she refuses to. 

It’s been weeks, months, since he had left you for her and not a single day goes by when she doesn’t wonder why he did it. 

She compares herself to you and her mind can’t comprehend why someone would leave you, why someone like Steve would leave you for her. 

Sometimes when she can’t sleep at night, she thinks about you, about you with Steve, about what you looked like underneath him, how your face contorted into pleasure when he unraveled you with his tongue, how his large palm would press down on your lower stomach to keep you from squirming away from him, how you tugged at his hair, desperate and needy, grinding your sopping pussy against his face before he pounded you into the mattress, kissing and biting your skin, covering you in love bites, making you moan and whimper in need as your boobs bounced while he pleasured you, balls deep inside of you, cock filling you up so perfectly that it made you cry and drool all over the pillow beneath you – by the end of each fantasy that haunted her, her stomach was burning and her thighs were clenched together. It was because of him, it was because of Steve, she told herself but it was a lie, he was there, but he wasn’t who her mind focused on, it never was. 

“Cunningham might chew your head off if you keep staring at her girl,” Barb whispers into her best friend’s ear, making Nancy frown at her words. She turns around, catching the blonde cheerleader glaring at her but she isn’t the reason for her frown. “Her girl?” Nancy asks as she looks away from Chrissy with an eye roll.

Barb chuckles, shaking her head as she starts to gather her books, “come on, everybody knows that Chrissy has a crush on her, she follows her around like some lovesick puppy.”

The feeling in Nancy’s chest tightens, the pit in her belly growing as a snarl makes its way on her face. 

“Right.”

Nancy never really paid attention to Chrissy or the way she looks at you but now that Barb mentions it, she sees it too, especially when the cheerleader grabs your hand and drags you out of the classroom once the lesson is over, a possessive look in her eyes that is directed at no one but Nancy. 

“You never saw it?” Barb chuckles, rising up from her seat, she grabs her coffee that she’s been sipping on all afternoon, holding the paper cup against her chest. 

Nancy shrugs, pretending not to care even though that thought is starting to take up every space in her mind. 

“Well, pay attention tonight, wait – you’re still going to Tina’s party, right?” 

“Yeah, it’s all Steve has been talking about,” Nancy grumbles, clearly not impressed by it or him. 

There is only one reason she will go to the party and it isn’t him. 

To… get drunk, yeah, just to get drunk, nothing more or less, only that. 

Not to observe and obsess over a certain someone. 

-

But it’s not what she ends up doing, not even in the slightest, she downs one drink and that’s all, she can’t even feel the alcohol in her system but she gets drunk on the way he looks at you as sick as it sounds, something within her burns deeply whenever she catches him, the fire only grows bigger when she sees the way you look at him, burning bright red whenever your eyes lock and Steve tenses up beside her – she knows all too well why he tenses up the way he does, why his knuckles are white as he holds his cup of beer tightly, why his brows are furrowed so strongly, why there is a scowl on his face. 

You are on the dancefloor, hands in your hair, a lazy smile on your lips, cheeks burning from the heat of the room and from your dancing, a skimpy little dress being the only thing keeping certain parts of you hidden, the glittery material keeps riding up on your thighs, dangerously high but not enough to expose your ass. You are moving your hips so smoothly, so effortlessly, your skin looks so soft and kissable beneath the string of lights above the room, you know how to move your body, how to put on a show, how to steal the spotlight in the room, how to make everything and everyone around you disappear – everyone except for Billy Hargrove who is snug behind you, hands on your waist, chest pressed against your back as his lips are dangerously close to your neck, ready to kiss and bite, ready to mark you up.

Nancy swallows harshly as she watches you, cheeks burning, chest rising up and down heavily, she licks her bottom lip as her eyes catch Billy’s hands moving to your front, palm pressed against your lower stomach to press you tighter against himself. She squints her eyes, nose scrunching in displeasure when you press your own hand over the larger one on your body. 

Steve scoffs under his breath, mumbling words that Nancy can’t make out in the loud room, she narrows her eyes at him, the red solo cup in his hand has dents in it, his eyes are dark, nearly black, his lips curled downwards as his focus is on nothing other than you and Billy. 

He is pissed and he is jealous, it’s written all over his face. 

Jealous over a girl he left, a girl he dumped – the girl he could never stop loving, the one he still craves and aches for. She knows it all, she always did. 

And now she can’t help but wonder why she doesn’t care, why there isn’t a single part inside of her that is filled with rage over seeing her boyfriend pine after his ex-girlfriend. Shouldn’t she be angry? Shouldn’t she feel hurt and jealous? Shouldn’t she feel possessive or even sad? 

She can’t feel any of those things when she looks at him – she doesn’t feel anything at all when she looks at him. Steve is a handsome guy, there is no doubt about that, he is one of the most good looking she has ever seen, from head to toe, he is gorgeous. His perfect hair, his soft hazel eyes, his lips – he is pretty, yeah, but his lips are rough and his hands are too, his skin not as soft as… the one of a girl. 

And when he talks of his future, she finds herself cringing, looking away to avoid the dreamy look in his honey eyes. Waves of nausea crash over her when he mentions marriage and kids, when he talks of a white picket fence and the RV he wants to explore the country with before going back to his small town life, with wife and kids. She hates it, it makes her sick. 

She looks up at him, arms crossed over her chest, bangs hanging in front of her eyes, her heart sinking into her stomach but not because of the way he is watching you, no, but because of the realization that dawned on her only now. 

Steve Harrington is her own personal nightmare. 

Steve Harrington is everything she never wanted. 

And he is only with her because of the summer they shared, the drunken nights, the giggles after smoking a joint together, the comfort he found in her while you were gone ‘doing god knows what with god knows who’ as he had said back then as though you would have ever done anything to hurt him, you worshiped the ground he walked in, the way he should have done for you too. 

You were in love with him and anyone could see it. 

She heard the rumors, the ones that drove him crazy, the ones that led him away from you and pushed him into her arms – well, not exactly, nothing happened between them until he officially broke up with you. But those rumors were only… rumors and yet, Steve believed in them, he believed Carol Perkins when she told him that you were seeing someone else while you were visiting your cousins in Chicago, that you were spending your nights in a dingy bars, admiring skilled fingers working on a red electric guitar, that your lips touched different ones, that your hands were too busy taking off his leather jacket instead of picking up the phone and calling him. 

He believed it with no evidence, he didn’t need it, his insecurities were enough to push him away from you – the sight before him only confirms the rumors of your sinful summer, though Billy isn’t the guy he was worried about during that time, he was always a problem, as well. 

He poured his heart out to the only who listened and that was Nancy, she comforted him with words, with alcohol and weed, nothing more, there was never a moment that could have led to anything more but her mind back then was wired differently than it is now – now she can’t understand how she misread between the lines so badly, how she mistaked platonic feelings for deeper ones, why she was so angry when you came back to college and to him, why the sight of you kissing your boyfriend filled her with so much rage. 

She was jealous. 

She was so jealous. 

But not because his lips touched yours but because yours touched his. 

It wasn’t a sight she had to endure for long because before she knew it, Steve slipped through your fingers after a big fight caused by the rumors he confronted you about, he didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself, didn’t allow you to tell him what had really happened that summer, he just dumped you, like it didn’t tear his own heart out, like he didn’t regret it the same moment he did it. He dumped you and then he left. He showed up at Nancy’s apartment, not caring about her weird roommate who gave him an odd look when he opened the door and stared at him for a good while, just watching the tears streaming down his cheeks before he called for Nancy, who held him through the night and kissed him in the morning, hoping for a taste of something she would only continue to dream about. 

Now they are here and they are together and they are more miserable than ever with each other.  

They are better off as friends and they both know it… deep down, at least. 

Your giggles break her out of her thoughts, she tears her eyes away from Steve and finds you walking into the room, completely ignoring her and his presence as you make your way over to the table filled with drinks and snacks, Billy close behind you, eyes heavy on your ass, bottom lip caught between his lips. 

Nancy rolls her eyes at him and Steve scoffs at the jock, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the blond.

“Harrington,” Billy smirks, nodding at him mockingly, “how’s it going?” He looks between him and Nancy, lifting his eyebrows at her but she only squints her eyes in response, glaring at him. 

“Peachy,” Steve replies with an unimpressed look on his face. 

You ignore the presence of the couple in the room, not paying attention to them or their interaction with Billy who won’t stop chasing you, especially after your dance with him – it was a mistake and you won’t make any bigger ones, not tonight. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Billy smirks, puffing his chest out as he takes a step closer to Steve, “you don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself,” he chuckles, looking Nancy up and down before his eyes flicker back to Steve’s, “either of you.”

“Why don’t you mind your own business, Hargrove?” Steve grumbles, eyes falling behind the figure in the back, taking in the sight of you so close to him now, the way your dress hugs your body, the way the strap of it falls down your arm and you don’t even bother to fix it, too fixated on the drink in your hand.

“Why don’t you lighten up a bit, hmm? Shouldn’t you be the life of the party, now that you’re with your ‘dream girl’?” 

Nancy nearly gags at the words of the blond. He always knows how to get under his skin and hers and she sees the way you tense up at Billy’s words, as much as you try to ignore the conversation in this room, you can’t unhear it. 

Steve tears his eyes away from you, looking into the blue ones before him, he takes a deep breath and unclenches his jaw, he opens his mouth to speak. 

“Hey guys, we’re playing truth or dare, wanna join?” Tina’s voice cuts him off, the brunette peeks her head inside the kitchen, looking between all of you with a curious spark in her eyes, a bit of mischief lingering in her eyes as well when she senses the tension. 

Steve rolls his eyes, scoffing in annoyance, “what are we fifteen–”

“I’m in.” 

All the attention is on you now, every pair of eyes in the room, staring straight at you as you stand there confidently, with a smirk on your lips, one that surely doesn’t match the look in your eyes as you are looking straight at your ex-boyfriend. 

“I feel like finding out some dirty truths.” You tilt your head to the side, sparing Nancy only a short look but one that leaves her swallowing harshly and blushing furiously. 

You hate her, she can see it in your eyes, you never fail to make it known either, not with words, but with all the glances and glares you direct at her whenever you catch her staring. 

Steve holds your gaze, intensely so. An unamused chuckle falls from his lips, “yeah, why don’t we uncover some dirty truths, Dolly?” He mocks you with the nickname from your childhood. “Let’s go, I’ve been dying to find out more about your summer.” 

If looks could kill then Steve Harrington would drop dead, right now. 

He never gave you a chance to explain yourself, he never even tried to talk to you about the rumors he had heard. When you came back, he pretended like everything was fine, he kissed you and held you, spent time with you, he was distant but he was still there… and then, he wasn’t. 

Nancy purses her lips, watching the way you slowly make your way towards Steve, ignoring Billy’s presence and hers as you halt before him, tilting your head to the side, you lick your lips as your eyes flicker between his eyes and his mouth. 

You are close, close enough to make her feel like she is floating, getting lost in the scent of your perfume, in the color of your eyes. Nancy isn’t sure if she had ever been this close to you before but something in her chest stirs when her eyes follow the way your lips curl downwards, the way your chest rises up and down, necklace stuck between your boobs, the softness of your skin. She digs her nails into her palms, fighting the thoughts in her mind. 

“Oh, now you want to talk?” You scoff and cross your arms over your chest, “we could’ve talked months ago but you were the one who just walked out on me after believing the shit Carol made up about me. I didn’t believe Tommy when he told me about your dirty little secret,” you mumble with nothing but hatred in your voice when you glance at Nancy. “But clearly I had every reason to believe him, unlike you, Harrington.” 

“Yeah, right.” Steve looks down, avoiding your eyes as he finds himself drowning in regret but also in denial. 

He had every reason to believe her, didn’t he? 

He remembers him, he remembers the metalhead that you befriended before he left his hometown to pursue his rockstar career, the same metalhead that Steve used to buy from, it was his fault that you had crossed paths with him anyway, he invited him into his home, you were there when he showed up to drop off the weed, Steve had asked for. The smirk that crossed Eddie’s face when he saw you skipping down the stairs in nothing but Steve’s shirt, should have worried him then already but it didn’t, not even when you invited Eddie in and he started showing up more frequently, not even when Steve was out of town, visiting his grandparents in Colorado, leaving you to spend spring break with your new friend. 

Only when he came back, did the sudden insecurity hit him, when he saw how close you and Eddie had gotten while he was away, when he saw the playful touches and heard the soft giggles, when he saw the sadness in your eyes when the metalhead left for Chicago after graduating high school. He got suspicious, he got insecure and it only worsened when you chose Chicago out of all places to spend your summer at — he knew you had family there but you never visited them before that, so why this summer? 

You never gave him a reason not to trust you but he was deeply insecure and scared that his fears would come true, that had pushed him into Nancy’s arms, the overthinking and the rumors that Carol had started about you and Eddie, the ones that already got around while the metalhead still lived here – Steve ignored them then but he couldn’t ignore them any longer when you left.

Steve felt sick to his stomach at the mere thought of what or who you could be doing, the thought that you had fallen out of love because of someone else made him feel blue, though your voice through the phone had sweetened his day and made him forget about what had previously made him cry but even that didn’t save him or your relationship that started to crumble without your knowledge. 

“What?” You scoff again, eyes glaring into his so intensely that it almost makes him shrink, “don’t act like you’re fucking innocent, we both know you aren’t.”

Nancy shifts on her feet, uncomfortably so, she glances at Tina who is still watching the interaction, amused and intrigued by it all, just like Billy. She rolls her eyes and looks back at you, a part of her wants to speak up, to defend Steve, tell you that nothing happened between them then but her words are caught in her throat. 

“Oh and you are?” Steve replies, taking a step closer to you, he looks down at you in anger, like his heart isn’t aching and yearning for you, like it’s easy for him to look down at you like you don’t mean a thing to him, like you aren’t still the girl that he would do anything for. “Don’t act like you weren’t messing around with the freak–”

“Don’t call him that,” you spit back, frowning at him. 

A dark chuckle falls from Steve’s lips, his eyes flicker with rage and jealousy. 

“Freak? That’s the first thing you’re going to address, not the fact that I just said that you were messing around–”

“I never did that.” 

At this moment, Nancy can’t tell whether you’re telling the truth or not, she was convinced that you weren’t messing around with Eddie Munson – she saw the way he looked at you, the way his eyes followed your every move, filled with softness and adoration, filled with lust. But she also saw the way you looked at Steve, you were devoted to him, only to him. 

Though Steve’s insecurities made her question you as well, especially now. 

“Yeah sure, you didn’t, Dolly,” Steve clenches his jaw. “You were just friends, hmm right.”

“Yeah, like you and Nancy,” you fight back, looking at him smugly, angrily. “You were just friends, right? When I came back to Hawkins, that’s all you were right? Just friends, huh? Funny how you dumped me shortly after you had befriended her.”

Her name fell from your lips and that’s all she could focus on, on the anger in your eyes that sparked something within her, that made her lick her lips. 

“I didn’t cheat if that’s what you’re saying,” Steve frowns, eyes lingering with disgust. 

“Of course you didn’t,” you chuckle in disbelief, “that’s why you had no problem getting into a new relationship only a day after breaking up with me, right?... I don’t know about you but I can’t imagine dating a friend, you do realize what it made you look like, right? A cheater, Steve, a goddamn cheater.” 

Steve swallows harshly, shoulders relaxing from the tension that resided in his body for the past minutes when he sees how glossy your eyes get, how pain is the only thing left in them, no ounce of anger showing anymore, only sadness and heartbreak that you had refused to show in these past months since he left. Seeing this, seeing through you, feels like a blow to his chest, something he refused to look at to avoid the regret is now right in front of him, on full display. 

You huff again, shaking your head as you take a step back and look between them, eyes meeting Nancy’s for a moment before you lower your head, glancing down at your drink, you bring it up to your lips and down the rest of it, you slam the empty cup on the counter and step back towards Steve, looking into the hazel eyes that you used to love so much, you pat his chest, “I wasn’t the one who left with no explanation, I wasn’t the one with the dirty secrets and I wasn’t the one who cheated and then accused you of doing it, asshole, so spare me your bullshit.” With one last glare, you step away from him and direct your gaze at the girl who can’t seem to tear her eyes away from you, you step towards her, unknowingly making her heart flutter, “I hope you can taste me when he’s kissing you.” 

You think that anger is what she feels from hearing your words but it’s not that at all, not even in the slightest. 

Her eyes follow you when you walk out of the room, brushing past Tina who looks like she is ready and excited to spread around what she just witnessed. The moment you are out in the hallway and making your way upstairs, she giggles loudly and runs off, making Steve roll his eyes. 

Nancy feels like something is pushing her, pushing her to walk the way you just did, to follow you upstairs, to talk to you… alone, to explain what had really happened this summer or these past few months. 

Billy’s laughter echoes through the room, a satisfied grin appearing on his face, one that Steve easily ignores, he slams his drink down next to your empty cup, not caring about spilling it. 

“I’m gonna get some fresh air,” he announces, sparing a poor glance at Nancy before he walks out of the room and out of the house, slamming the front door shut so loudly that it’s even heard over the music. 

“Sure,” Nancy mumbles when he is outside already, uninterested. Her mind is in a haze, body angling towards the stairs. Billy’s eyes are on her, intensely so, but she doesn’t bother to turn her head to look at him, her feet carry her out of the room before she can rethink the decision her mind had already made. She pushes past the people in the hallway, ignores the curious glances from Carol and Tommy. 

Her heart is pounding in her chest as she walks up the stairs, fingernails digging into her palms, she bites down on her lip nervously, letting her body move on its own accord. She doesn’t know where to look first, where to go but it's like something is leading her to her wanted destination. 

She finds you in one of the bedrooms, sitting at the end of bed with tears running down your cheeks, sniffles sounding through the quiet room, the lights from the hallway illuminating the dark room, you jump in surprise when you notice her in the doorway. 

“What the hell do you want?” 

Nancy sucks in a sharp breath, the guilt in her continuing to eat at her when she sees the pain in your glassy eyes before your expression hardens at the sight of her. You wipe your tears angrily and push yourself up, smoothing down your dress, you blink, trying to get rid of the tears. 

“I’m sorry I-I just wanted to–”

“What did you want?” You snap back, frowning in rage as you stalk towards her like she is your prey. “Did you want this room to yourself? Am I in your way? Oh, I’m sorry, let me just make space for you.” Your voice is sarcastic, your face angry but it does nothing to scare her or push her away from here. 

“No,” Nancy shakes her head, knowing all too well what you mean by those words. She sighs, “no, I just wanted to check up on you.” 

Her words are clearly something you weren’t expecting, because for a good moment, you’re dead silent, staring at her with confused eyes and parted lips — ones that Nancy can’t look away from. 

It would’ve been dead silent too if it wasn’t for the voices downstairs, for the loud music or the sound of laughter outside. 

“Check up on me!?” 

The anger on your face and in your voice should be enough of a reason for her to leave the room and avoid you, her brain is telling her that but her body… her body is telling her something entirely else. Somehow, you look even better with the fire behind your eyes, the burning gaze you look at her with, sets her lower stomach on fire, your skin looks even softer beneath this lightning, your lips look so… so kissable.

She can’t deny it any longer, not after months and months of observing and pining, even before she met Steve properly. It was never him that she looked at, it was never him that she wanted. 

“What? So you can laugh in my face and mock me? How you stole my boyfriend!?” 

Nancy shakes her head, “n-no, I’d never do that… I am… I’m sorry.”

You chuckle darkly but a hint of sadness is there too, she can’t even miss it. You roll your eyes at her and finally decide to step away, to leave this conversation that you never even wanted. But Nancy doesn’t even let you pass, in fact, she places herself in front of the door after slamming it shut, standing in your way with a stubborn look on her face. 

“What the— get out of my way, Wheeler.” 

“No.” Nancy shakes her head again, blue eyes burning into yours, cheeks glowing red. “I’m sorry, I really am, I-I know you hate me, I would too, what I did was… was messed up but I’m really, really sorry!” 

You can only stare in disbelief, blinking, you can feel your heart pounding and your chest hurting from it. 

You don’t need that, you don’t want that. 

You don’t want no apology, not from her and not from him. 

He betrayed you and he broke your heart, stomped on it like it was nothing, and then, he just moved on, right away, like you never meant anything to him, like he never loved you, like it was the easiest thing to just forget about you and date someone new. 

And Nancy, she never owed you anything, no loyalty or sympathy, but what she did still hurt, a lot. And her apology angers you in ways you can’t even describe with words. 

“Fuck you.” The way those words leave your lips followed by the venomous look in your eyes should make her feel intimidated, it should make her draw back and let you leave but instead, she feels any of what she should feel. Your anger makes her feel something she had never felt before, some sort of anticipation, a curiosity she never felt with any guy, not the cute guy from summer camp last year whose name she forgot, not Jerry Carlson who was the first ever to ask her out on a date, not Steve Harrington, no guy had ever made her feel the things that burn in her now, only you. 

Fuck. 

Only you. 

She can’t tear her eyes away from your lips any longer, she can’t fight the desire in her that calls your name, she can’t fight the urge to move closer to you and the way your eyes flicker to her lips, even if only for a second, gives her the push to take a step closer. 

You have to feel the tension too, right? 

The fire between you – maybe it’s only anger on your part but maybe, hopefully, it isn’t only that. 

Nancy’s heart starts pounding, she suddenly feels drunk, hazy. Her feet move on their own accord, her feelings act on their own, she no longer feels control over her own body. 

“You and Steve are unbelievable, you know that right?” You snap at her, flipping your hair over your shoulder, arrogantly. “He fucked me over and you helped. You both got what you wanted, you got each other, so why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone!?”

She doesn’t answer you. 

She doesn’t say anything. 

She just looks at you. 

Her eyes are almost unrecognizable, dark and barely blue, a wild look lingers in them as she stares at you like you’re her prey, like she’s about to eat you alive, maybe it should terrify you but it doesn’t, you are too angry to feel anything else. 

Nancy watches the way you roll your eyes like some goddamn brat and she is beginning to lose her patience with your attitude – she deserves it, she knows she does but her feelings overwhelm her and your bitchiness doesn’t help much. 

Enough of her silence, you move forward, about to push her aside so you can make your escape, you reach for the doorknob but freeze in your place when her hand wraps around your wrist and she gives you a stern look and it only angers you more, even when there is a small part of you that feels intrigued by the way she looks at you. 

“I swear to god, Nancy,” you sigh. 

There is guilt in her eyes, beneath the flames that linger and it irritates you so deeply. 

If she is burdened by guilt at this moment, then she must’ve been back then too and it only makes you wonder. 

“Why did you take him?” You ask, trying to hide the pain in your voice, trying to hide what you have been feeling for the past months. 

“I never wanted him.” 

Her own eyes widen after those words leave her lips, not out of shock but out of relief – the truth that’s been there all along, finally uncovered and revealed, not only to you but also to herself because a part of her didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to admit it, that it was you, that it was a girl whom she wanted. 

A gasp tears from your mouth and your eyes widen, hand falling from the doorknob you were holding onto so tightly, your heart lurches to your throat and something stirs within you. It takes you a long moment to realize what is happening, to realize what she is doing, to realize what she just confessed. 

You feel warmth, in your body, on your body, on your lips. You feel her hands cupping your cheeks, you taste her raspberry chapstick, the rum she must’ve had earlier, you feel the intensity radiating off her. 

She is kissing you. 

Nancy Wheeler is kissing you after confessing that it wasn’t him who she wanted. 

Your ex-boyfriend’s girl is kissing you like her life depends on it – lost in the kiss, she looks completely in bliss, with her eyes closed and her lips moving against yours passionately, softly in a way only a girl's lips can feel. 

She kisses you in a way no one else ever has before, with a kind of desperation and need that can only come from someone who has been longing for this moment for a long, long time and to your surprise it makes your stomach flutter but your confusion guides you, you raise your hands and press them against her shoulders, pushing her away from you with furrowed eyebrows and puffy lips. 

Your heart is racing, your thoughts are too. 

What the hell just happened?

Nancy slowly opens her eyes, cheeks flushed and eyes needy as they flicker back and forth between your eyes and your lips, like she’s hungry for you, like she yearns for you, like she needs and wants more. 

You open your mouth to speak but not a single word falls from your lips because what is there to say? You are confused, more than that you are irritated by the fact that the kiss made your stomach burn and your legs shaky, that it left you craving for another taste of the girl that stole your happiness but she looks at you like you’re… something special and it makes your heart flutter and it makes you angry because she is still Nancy Wheeler. She is still the girl who is the reason for all your hurt, she is the girl your Steve left you for. 

She blinks, lashes fluttering as her eyes soften, vulnerability crossing her face. 

“I wanted you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, your face flusters at her confession. You don’t know what to think of it, of her. But that little voice in your head, that angry one that has been trying to take control over you these past few months is telling you to use this given opportunity to get back at him. 

She wants you. 

Steve’s girlfriend wants you. 

She looks at you like she is ready to drop everything and everyone for you. 

She is. 

Your eyes flicker to her lips, you can’t deny the fact that it felt good to feel them on yours and you can’t help but wonder what they would feel like in different places on your body. 

But you don’t know whether it’s the thrill, the curiosity or this opportunity that fell right into your hands. 

She wants you so very badly, you can see it in her blue eyes, the way she is practically begging for you to let her in, to let her have a taste, to let her have you, she is needy, not for Steve, no, not for him, for you, only for you. 

And who are you to pass up on an opportunity to have a good time and get your sweet revenge all at once? 

So after a lot of heavy breathing and contemplating, you break out of your trance and move forward, catching her by surprise this time, you grab her face and slam your lips against hers, earning a whimper from her the second you kiss her. 

Satisfaction rushes through you, numbing the anger and filling you with pleasure to know that this will ruin her. 

And him. 

Both of them. 

♡

tagging ppl who might be interested!!!

@thesickestqrmydcll @prettyboyeddiemunson @fanfic-fanatic-2024

[ashwhowrites]

Can I request an Billy x reader x Eddie fic where either the three of them fight and then make up or Billy made Reader cry and Eddie got mad at him, and he then fixes it? I would love to see more of Mungrove x reader!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it!! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻Mungrove is getting very fun

2 boyfriends but 1 girlfriend

If there was anything that was a promise when dating Billy Hargrove, it was jealousy. Billy was popular with everyone. The boys idolized him, and the girls crawled at his feet. Billy was a loyal partner, Eddie and Y/N knew that. But Billy never was shy from the attention on him. He loved it. He loved being chased and all the girls swooning at his feet.

It didn't really bother Eddie. Eddie was never bothered by much, he shrugged everything off and moved on. He and Billy barely ever fought about it. But Y/N? She couldn't just shrug it off. It bothered her all the way into her skin and bones. Billy never saw the issue as it wasn't like he cheated. But to Y/N, being involved in flirting felt like cheating.

Saturday night meant date night. It turned out that having to compare three schedules was difficult. Billy always had basketball practice after school, Eddie had his campaign and band practice, and then Fridays were basketball games and singing gigs. But they all vowed that Saturdays would be their day.

It was late May and the weather was getting hot. Billy wanted to take a road trip off to the beach, so they did. The drive didn't feel that long once they pulled into the parking lot.

"We'll go grab a spot, and you unpack the car," Eddie said as he grabbed Y/N's hand. They ran through the hot sand and threw down their towels.

Y/N was basking in the sun as Eddie took dives in the water. She laughed behind her sunglasses as Eddie tried to do tricks for a rating. Usually, Billy would be with Eddie, both boys trying to one-up each other.

"I'M GONNA CHECK ON BILLY, DON'T DROWN," Y/N yelled as she stood up. Eddie gave her a thumbs-up before diving into the water once again. That boy loved to be in the water.

Y/N put on her sandals and began to walk towards the parking lot. She wasn't sure what took Billy so long, but she had a good feeling of why once she caught Billy with his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose and his pearly whites on display.

Y/N walked up slowly, hearing Karen Wheeler flirting with her boyfriend. Billy was leaning close to her, making her laugh.

"Um, babe? You need any help with the stuff?" Y/N asked, she didn't want to sound rude or bitchy. She was more nervous and uncomfortable with the tight feeling in her stomach.

"Got it all handled, sweetie," Billy said, popping his gum. He didn't bother to look behind him at her, his eyes on Karen only.

"Eddie is starting his tricks and waiting for his competition." Y/N hinted she hoped he'd care enough to look at her this time.

"I'll be there in a minute," Billy said, his tone a little angry. Y/N gulped, she did not want to make him mad but she wanted time with her boyfriend.

"Will you be done soon? We've been here for thirty minutes and you know Saturday is o-" But Billy cut her off. He whipped around and his icy blue eyes glared at her.

"I said in a minute. I'm in the middle of a conversation, we have the whole godamn day for you to be on my ass." He snapped, and Y/N nodded. She bit her lip as she felt it tremble. Billy turned back to Karen and Y/N began to walk away. She sniffled as she tried to keep her tears back.

"Clingy one I see," Karen mocked, Billy let out a big laugh.

"You've got no idea."

~

Eddie was back on his towel when Y/N made it back, without Billy.

"Hey sweets, where's Billy? Does he need my help?" Eddie asked, pushing his sunglasses into his hair. He squinted as he looked over at Y/N.

"No, he's fine," Y/N said, her voice shaky as she sat on her towel.

Eddie frowned hearing her voice, he was quick to move his towel right next to her. His wet body against hers as he threw his arm over her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Eddie asked, he saw his reflection in her sunglasses as she turned to look at him.

"He's too busy to join us because of Karen Wheeler." Y/N sighed, but Eddie knew there was more.

"I'm sorry he's being a dick," Eddie said, his lips pressed against her shoulder.

"Do you think I'm...clingy?" Y/N asked, she pushed her sunglasses into her hair as she looked into Eddie's eyes. His frown deepened as he saw her watery eyes.

"Not at all! Why do you ask?"

"Karen made a comment about it, and Billy laughed and agreed. It hurts when he flirts with every girl that breathes. It makes me insecure. Why am I not pretty enough to keep him from looking at other girls? He never looks at other guys." Y/N ranted, salty tears ran down her cheek.

"Oh, darling. I can't make an excuse for his dumb actions. But I promise you, you are enough. You are pretty enough, smart enough, funny enough, and everything more." Eddie said softly, he wiped away her tears.

"I'm going to swim for a bit." Y/N said, she gave Eddie a soft kiss then left to head into the water.

Eddie flicked down his sunglasses and went right after Billy.

Just like Y/N said, Billy was talking to Karen without a care in the world. Eddie walked up to the car and grabbed a water bottle out of the cooler.

He cut in between Karen and Billy. His back to Billy as he glared at Karen through his sunglasses. He handed her the water with a smirk. "Since you are so thirsty, here's water. Now beat it."

Billy chuckled from behind Eddie as Karen walked away.

"My oh my, someone is hot when they are jealous." Billy teased. Eddie turned around and flicked Billy in the forehead.

"I'm not jealous. I'm pissed off at your attitude towards Y/N." Eddie argued.

"I didn't have an attitude. I asked her to give me a minute." Billy defended. He finally grabbed the stuff from the car and began walking towards the beach.

"I don't give a shit if you asked. You ditched us on our date so you could talk with gross Mrs. Wheeler. You know I don't care about flirting because I know who's dick you'll be sucking on. But it's different with Y/N. She gets insecure and you make her upset." Eddie explained, helping his boyfriend carry everything down into the sand.

"Why is her being insecure my fault? We all knew I was popular with the ladies." Billy scoffed.

Eddie waited until Billy dropped everything on the sand before he punched his arm.

"What the hell!" Billy growled as he rubbed the sore spot.

"It's your fault because she doesn't think she's pretty enough to keep your eyes on just her. News flash Hargrove, if you want to soak in all the attention from the "ladies" then don't be in a relationship." Eddie said, another punch at Billy's other arm.

"DAMMIT!" Billy yelled as he felt another bruise forming.

"That's for making her cry. If you don't see what I see in her, then maybe she isn't meant to be yours, just mine." Eddie glared.

"What? You are gonna take her from me?" Billy questioned. He had to admit, the thought made his stomach hurt.

"No, but I'm going to stop trying to make you a good guy."

~

Billy sighed as he walked into the water. His eyes take in the gorgeous girlfriend of his. Her warm skin and the bright color of her bikini. Water dropped down her hair and created droplets that ran down her back.

She didn't turn around and he kept walking closer. Once he reached her he wrapped his arms around her waist.

His mouth was against her ear, as his chin rested on her shoulder. Her skin was warm from the sun.

"I talked to Eddie. And I'm really sorry I upset you." Billy said softly, he squeezed her body as the waves brushed against his legs.

"It's whatever, Billy. I'll get over it like I always do." Y/N sighed. She groaned when Billy turned her around, now face to face as she held back her tears.

"No, I mean it this time. I'm done with the games and the flirting. Eddie and I don't see it as a big deal, but it means something to you. It hurts you and makes you question yourself. Which I never want you to do. I've been a dick and not appreciating you the way I should be. I'm incredibly lucky to have you as a girlfriend. " Billy kissed her neck, and she tried not to melt.

"My sexy and gorgeous girlfriend," more kisses, "who puts up with me when she shouldn't have to," more kisses, "loves me when I don't deserve it," more kisses, "and truly the only woman I'll ever love." The final kiss landed on her lips and she happily kissed back. Her arms were thrown over his shoulders as his tongue moved inside her mouth.

"Can you forgive me?" Billy whispered against her lips. His blue eyes were nervous and guilty.

"Yes but I swear you flirt with one more girl and I'm going to have Eddie truly kick your ass."

"He wishes, baby." Billy chuckled before kissing her again. His hands landed on her ass as his tongue entered her mouth once again.

~

"Great. Now I got a hard on." Eddie groaned as he used Billy's towel to cover his swim shorts.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

[fairyysoup]

i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.

aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it

words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift

a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…

Hawkins High, September 1984

He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.

That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.

You stare a lot.

It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.

You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself. 

That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!

It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.

You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something. 

You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.

God, you wish you could kiss him.

Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.

“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you. 

You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.

Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again. 

“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.

You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder. 

And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway. 

Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you. 

He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it. 

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does. 

I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.

You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”

You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.

Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.

‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will. 

Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.

It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.

You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.

Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.

You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.

Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.

Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.

You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive. 

A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.

Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again. 

They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.

What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying. 

Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.

You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will. 

You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).

You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.

Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him. 

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.

He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.

Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you. 

It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.

You know too well what that feels like, right now.

Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.

But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”

Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”

He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.” 

“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience. 

You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”  

“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”

“Billy Hargrove?” 

Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”

You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”

Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.

You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”

You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair. 

Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.

Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’

Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing. 

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Prom Night, May 1985

The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.

Except, well.

Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.

The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth. 

You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile. 

You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.

You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.

As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.

You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?” 

“I’m not sulking.”

You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?” 

“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”

“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”

He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night. 

But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.

“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”

You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”

“Who?”

You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”

“Kelly Palmer.” 

You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.

You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.

“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”

You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”

“Yeah, I hope not.” 

“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”

“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.” 

You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens. 

“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.

“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”

“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face. 

Steve Harrington is touching your face.  

His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.

Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.

You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.

“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him. 

“STEVE??!”

You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.

She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.

You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile. 

“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”

Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer. 

Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.

You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 

He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.

Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana. 

Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.

You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.

Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”

It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it. 

You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation. 

But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you. 

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.

You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”

“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”

“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”

“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.” 

“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”

You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”

“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.” 

Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.

The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.

“Are you ready?”

“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.

What did you say? What did he say?

“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.

“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”

Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”

“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.

You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.” 

“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?” 

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.” 

“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.

He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”

You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.

You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.” 

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”

You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror. 

He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”

“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself. 

You like it a lot. 

You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”

“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”

Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”

You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.

When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.

You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.

You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.

Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”

“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?” 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.

“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”

Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”

Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours. 

The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”

“I made it up.” 

Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.” 

Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?” 

“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.

“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”

“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?” 

“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…

Family Video, March 1986

The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.

Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night. 

This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.

The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own. 

You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”

You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.

You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”

“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”

“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”

“So, right after I last saw you?”

Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?” 

“I wish.” 

You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return. 

You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.

You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.

You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted. 

You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”

Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”

“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”

Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?” 

Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?” 

“I’ll be here.”

“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away. 

“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly. 

Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!” 

Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”

“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”

“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”

Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?” 

“No.”

“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.” 

“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?” 

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him. 

“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.

Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”

Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.” 

“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.

Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.

Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy. 

If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count. 

He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.

Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.

Oh.  

“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.” 

“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”

“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section. 

You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.

You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”

“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.” 

Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”

“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.

“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”

A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals. 

“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly. 

“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking. 

“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”

He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.

He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.

“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers. 

Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst. 

You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.

“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”

“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”

“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.” 

Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.

You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?

“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack. 

Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop. 

Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.

“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”

Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.

And again.

And again.

And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices. 

You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant. 

As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.” 

Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.

Logan Sawyer.  

“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.

As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.” 

“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.

Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”

“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.

“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”

You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.” 

Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York. 

You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt. 

“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.

Oh my fucking god.

It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm. 

Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?

“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.

“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.

You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.

He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?

Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.

“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.” 

You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”

“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?” 

Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”

“Great. I’ll have that, please.” 

Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps. 

“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”

Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date. 

You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away. 

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”

“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me. 

Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel. 

That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying. 

Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.

His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.

As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…

Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite. 

You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones. 

Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time. 

You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. 

Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things. 

“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”  

You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”

Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”

“You just said-”

“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”

Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”

“It was fine.”

“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…

“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve. 

You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”

Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box. 

“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”

You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him. 

When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box. 

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check. 

Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”

“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day. 

Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes. 

There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind. 

The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms. 

The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”  

You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you. 

He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now. 

Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours. 

You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.

But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco. 

It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building. 

You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him. 

Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.

“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”

“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”  

He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?” 

“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open. 

Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.

“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you. 

He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”

“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.” 

Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”

You don’t have to ask him twice.

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.

“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”

You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”

“The price.”

“The price.”  

It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.

“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice. 

“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”

“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”

He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.” 

“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.

“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.

Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.

Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.” 

“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?” 

“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”

“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you. 

He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.

You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”

“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.” 

Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.

You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”

“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out. 

Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.  

He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.

Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?” 

Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.

Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”

“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”

“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”

You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor. 

Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open. 

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”

He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”

Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you. 

“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”

His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”  

Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”  

“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit. 

You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”

He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”

You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom. 

He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders. 

You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.

“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”

Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”

“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”

He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.

You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?” 

Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”

Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”

He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”

Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.

Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.

He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours. 

“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.  

“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”

Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”

“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do. 

Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started. 

Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.  

You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”

Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”

You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”

“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”

He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.  

Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning. 

You want him to do it all over your body.

Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips. 

Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind. 

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.

“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline. 

“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”

Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him. 

But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?” 

His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.

“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”

“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”

You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”  

“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?” 

How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?

“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?” 

“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”

“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.

What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…

You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows. 

You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.

You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.

There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.

You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.

“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose. 

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”

He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?” 

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”

He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.  

But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.

Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.

“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”

“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”

“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.

“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork. 

That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”

“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”

You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.

Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself. 

“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.

Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.

“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

(I see you, I see you, baby.)

[ladykailitha]

A Love Connection Part 1

In a very special engagement (as in a don't normally post 5 days a week), I introduce "A Love Connection"!

If the premise looks familiar the original idea is from here, where a couple of people in the notes or tags said they'd love to try it. And after a year, I figured I'd try my own hand at the idea.

This will update on Tuesdays at 10am and 10pm EST. With hopefully eight chapters.

Summary: Steve has tried everything under the sun to find someone to truly connect with, so he gives up after a particularly horrible date. Then Chrissy introduces him to her favorite game show "Love Connection". When Chrissy and Robin apply for him, they don't think they'll except him, but he does. His suitors are Billy Hargrove, Tommy Hagan, and Eddie Munson. Will Steve crash and burn again or will his connection be there waiting for him?

~

Look, to say Steve’s love life was a disaster would be unfair. That would be underselling it. It was a fucking catastrophe. He had gone to bars, joined hobby groups, used all the apps, even Grindr; though that was mostly for hookups, which sucked. But that was the nature of the beast if he was honest.

And the beast had completely devoured him. All his dates were either only interested the casual, cheated on him, or wanted one-night stands. Which Steve absolutely did not want. He wanted connection. Intimacy.

“I absolutely give up,” he whined to Robin, after the last date tried to slip out in the middle of the night, knocked over their lamp into their goldfish bowl, killing the goldfish, then he tried to hide the evidence by dumping it down the garbage disposal and turning it on! Lied about it, then stole their last beer as “compensation for his trauma’ and told Steve to never call him again.

“Look, Ryan wasn’t the best guy,” Robin replied with a grimace. “He liked Oasis and Tool unironically. Always a red flag.”

Steve snorted. Robin was a music snob most days, but she wasn’t wrong about that. Ryan and he had been dancing around and with each other for weeks before they finally got so hot and heavy that they went back to Steve’s for sex.

“It’s not fair,” he huffed. “You went to that bar and you a hottie girlfriend and I went to that bar and fucked a fish killer! I loved Garfield! He lived for five years before that bastard mercilessly murdered him. That’s long than my last ten relationships combined!”

Robin winced. “Ooh... I’m going to have to call Chrissy and let her know we can’t go back to that gay bar again.”

“Oh he’s so dead now!” Steve ranted. “Not only is he fish killer, he has driven us from our favorite bar!”

“Let me order us some take out,” Robin said standing up, “then I’ll call Chrissy over and we’ll all cry over Ciarán Hinds and Amanda Root falling in love.”

Steve sniffed away a couple of tears and nodded. “Then can we have a funeral for Garfield?”

Robin tilted her head and smiled sadly. “Of course we can. It’s a Sunday so none of us have work. We can watch as many weepy romance movies as you want, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve croaked. She gave him a big hug and kissed his cheek. He watched her wander into the kitchen to see what leftovers they had in the fridge so they could order from somewhere else. He loved her so much.

~

Sometime in the afternoon when they were more than a little tipsy, Chrissy commandeered the remote and turned on her favorite game show.

“Love Connection”

“Noooo...” Steve whined, burying his head into a throw pillow. It was Garfield shaped. It was what inspired the naming of the valiant fish. “This is the last thing I want to see. It’s so fake. No one gets together on these things. It’s so cheesy.”

“Exactly!” Chrissy crowed. “That’s why it’s perfect, we get to make fun of them!”

Steve thought that the only good part of the show was the second half. The first half was split into three different rounds. The first round was each suitor answer the one question, for a total of fifteen and then the catch would rank them, best got three points, second two, and third only one.

Then in the second round there were a set of rapid fire either or questions that the catch would yell out and the suitors would write down their answers. If their answer matched the catch’s they would get a tally. Whoever had the most tallies would win five points. Then three points to second place and one to the last place.

Then in the final round, each suitor would be asked separate questions and the catch would rate their answer one through three and that’s how many points they would get. Then at the end of the round all the points would be tallied up and the two highest would move on to the next round.

To the part that Steve actually liked. The first question always asked was “what would you do for a first date?” And the suitors got to take the catch out for the date and then afterward for drinks, the two dates would ask the catch some of the questions he asked them. Then the catch would pick the one they connected to the best.

It was all the stupid questions that bothered Steve. That was the fun part of dating, having these conversations and learning about them as you go. But then maybe that’s what Steve’s problem was, is that the people he dated didn’t care about these types of conversations.

“Why would you say you hate sports,” Steve huffed, waving his hand at the screen, “when the guy is a major soccer fan? Like did she think that she was going to put a stop to him enjoying it after starting dating?”

“Ooh yeah,” Chrissy agreed. “Just pick a different catch.”

Robin turned to her and tilted her head. “Do they get to chose their catch? I thought it was all random.”

Chrissy paused the show and pulled out her phone and the Wikipedia article. “Okay, it says here that people can apply to be suitors,” she waved at the row of women in the three booths. “Or catches.” She indicated the guy with her hand. “If they’re chosen to be a suitor then they are given a list of catches, headshot included. Then they rank vote them, so if four people pick Henry, then one will be on their second rank vote. And that part is randomized. According to them, anyway.”

Steve snorted. He highly doubted anything was randomized or voted on. They went for the biggest drama and everyone knew it.

“How long has this show been going on?” he huffed. “Like please tell it’s new and shiny and that’s why people like it.”

Robin snorted and shook her head. “Sorry, babe. But this is season twelve.”

“Oohh...” Chrissy said. “We need to show him the season six finale. That was hella juicy!”

So despite Steve’s protests, Chrissy pulled it up on her streaming services even though they hadn’t even finished the episode they were on.

When the credits rolled, Steve stared at the screen in utter shock. “What the honest fuck was that?”

Two of the three guys got into an all out brawl when the one guy had scored the lowest and felt that the second place suitor cheated. Not first place, second. Both guys were arrested and hauled off the set.

“It came out later Sven was right,” Robin said. “Elliot cheated. His cousin was an ex of the catch so he went in knowing a lot about Stella. The things he got wrong were things that had changed since she was dating his cousin.”

Chrissy nodded. “That’s why the have partitions up between the suitors now and why they have vigorous screening now. The show was almost canceled.”

“So why wasn’t it?” Steve asked honestly. “That was a shit show, if I was Stella I would have sued them into oblivion.”

Robin squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “She did, but they settled out of court.”

“Basically,” Chrissy said, pouring them more wine and handing the first glass to Steve, “she wanted them to completely overhaul the system. She didn’t want it off the air, she wanted it safer for future participants.”

“The more the fool them,” Steve huffed. He took a long sip of his wine. “All right, fine. Let’s start at the beginning.”

Robin and Chrissy cheered and they all huddled up together on the sofa to watch this absolute train wreck of a show.

They were about half way through the third season and twice as drunk when Steve slurred, “Why are there no gay peemles in this? It’s a trav–trad–tramajesty.”

“Travesty!” Robin slurred back, her language skills always being the last to go when she’s three sheets to the wind. “And you are absolutely right! This is homophobic!”

Chrissy nodded solemnly and pulled out her phone. “I’mma show them...” she muttered with her tongue sticking out. “At loveconnectionUSA Need more gays, hashtag loveconnection hashtag need more gays.”

It wasn’t long after that that the three of them passed out on the sofa, empty bottles all around them and a message on the screen asking if they’re still watching.

~

There was a loud beeping noise and it absolutely was hurting his head. He reached over to where his phone was usually plugged in on his nightstand, but his hand went straight through it. He waved his arm all over the place but still his nightstand eluded him.

He peaked open one eye but his vision was obscured by a mass of blonde hair. He tried to push it out of the way but it kept falling back into his face. Finally he pushed Robin off him and onto the floor with a thud.

“Hey!” she yelped.

Steve peered over the edge of the sofa with a look of confusion. “Why are you on the floor?” he muttered over the still beeping of his alarm.

“Stop!” he mumbled and somehow, blissfully it did.

“I’m on the floor because you pushed me there,” Robin huffed, getting to her feet. She did a sniff test and grimaced when she completely failed. “God... how much did we drink yesterday?”

Chrissy struggled to sit up and blinked at her girlfriend groggily. “Not enough if I feel like this.”

Steve rolled over and looked at them both in confusion, then the events of Saturday and all day Sunday came flooding back in.

“Oh fuck...” he muttered, sitting up himself and rubbing his face. One eye was blurry from where his contact had shifted in the night. He wasn’t even sure why he had them on. Probably from sheer force of habit.

He got up and stumbled toward the bathroom where he emptied his stomach of all its boozy contents. He really didn’t remember them eating after breakfast, only a steady stream of harder and harder liquor.

While his was puking his guts out, Chrissy and Robin stole the shower. Thankfully only taking the time they needed to get the gross feeling of being hungover off their skin.

Then Steve closed his eyes as they exited the shower and snuck into Robin’s room to get ready for work. They all worked at Hawkins Middle School, where Steve was a history teacher who coached swimming and basketball. Chrissy was a health teacher and advisor for cheerleading. And Robin was the language teacher. The principal snatched her up because she could teach French, Spanish, and Italian, with her only needing to hire a German teacher.

Steve got his shower and then opted for glasses instead of his contacts, not trusting his shaky hands not poke out his eye or some shit.

They all were mostly human once they got coffee, painkillers, and cereal in them, the three of them, no doubt looking like escaped extras from a zombie flick. They moved as one, gathering up their stuff and shuffling out to Steve’s car. Chrissy sat in the back, Robin riding shotgun.

Chrissy opened her phone to check to see if she had any messages. “Holy shit!”

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Look I'd be sorry about the cliffhanger, but you're only waiting 12 hours for it, soooo...

Have fun!

Tag List: TEN SLOTS OPEN

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[buckysgrace]

Friendly Competition

Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Billy has almost beat Steve Harrington at everything he was once the best at. There is just one more thing left to obtain.

His girl.

CW: Smut, Breeding kink if you squint (wrap before you tap lmao) some manipulation, spitting, crying, some slapping idk, Billy is kinda a dick, cheating.

You weren't quite sure how you ended up befriending Billy Hargrove, but you did. You supposed it was the genuine interest that he showed in you. You weren't attracted to him like other girls were, you were just happy that someone seemed to care about the little things you had to say.

Steve had warned you. He had been completely furious when he found out you were speaking to him in the first place. You couldn't particularly blame him. You knew that Steve was jealous of the other boy. Billy had come in a like a tornado and scooped up all of Steve's hard work to take over the school.

It started small, so small that you barely noticed Billy's presence around you at first. He was just suddenly there with his pearly white smile and charismatic attitude. You could see why girls flocked to him so easily, but you were loyal to Steve.

"Is this yours?" You looked over your shoulder as Billy leaned in close to you, the smell of mint and cigarettes lingering on his breath. You looked at the wooden pencil he was holding in his hand.

"Maybe?" You set your book down, looking across your desk to see that you had knocked your pencil off without meaning to. You reached over to grab it, your fingers knocking against his as he handed you the pencil, "Thank you. You're a lifesaver." You teased softly as you sat it back on your desk. His smile only grew at your words.

"I'm Billy," He held his hand out and you hesitantly took a hold of his rough palm. You watched as he clasped his free hand on top of your palm, sandwiching your hand between his, "I don't know if we've met before?"

You almost told him that you knew who he was. It was only his first week at school and everyone had already been talking about him. That included your boyfriend. You thought it was a bit silly, worrying about his status and everything else when he'd be graduating in a few months. He had changed for the better, but you were worried he was on a slippery slope back to his previous self with how threatened he acted.

"Probably not," You smiled kindly as he released your hand, "We'll see each other at basketball games. I'm a cheerleader." You responded as you made small talk. You weren't really sure what Steve had been so worried about. He seemed pleasant as his smile grew.

"Good, I hope to see you around." There wasn't much to the conversation in your opinion, but you had given Billy everything he needed to know about you, like you were an open book.

////////////

"Do you understand this?" You were taken aback as Billy shuffled his desk towards yours, his knees brushing against your bare skin as you looked over to the paper he was holding. You squinted your eyes for a moment, having a hard time reading his handwriting.

"Oh, yeah. You just haven’t been carrying your numbers. So do it like this instead,” He scooted closer to watch you write out the problem for him. You paid no attention to how his eyes watched you, already used to the way he held contact, “Like this.” You pushed the paper back towards him. He looked over it for a moment, biting on his pencil.

“That makes a bit more sense,” He admitted slowly. He looked up to face you, his blue eyes flickering in the sunlight as he smiled gently. You felt your heart hammering in your chest, “Thank you. Steve didn’t mention you were smart.” You bit your lip, smiling at the mention of your boyfriend.

“What did he mention about me?” You smiles, thinking Billy was going to offer you another compliment that Steve had gushed about you. Billy chuckled, flicking his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Not much, he said you’re good with your mouth,” You stared in horror, feeling your body warm. Steve had mentioned that to you before, but you didn’t like that he was telling other people. You gulped hard, “Just locker room talk.” Billy admitted as his knee brushed against yours again. You nodded, trying not to act bothered as you turned away from him. You missed the smirk on his face and the way he looked at you as if you were a snack.

////////////

"I don't like you being around him," Steve was irritated after he crawled off of you. You sat up a bit, pulling the blanket over your chest as you stared at him confused, "Hargrove. I don't like you hanging out with Hargrove." You frowned, staring at his back muscles as he moved.

"I wouldn't really classify it as hanging out. He gave me his jacket because I was cold." You retorted as you furrowed your eyebrows together. Steve still looked pissed as he sat to the side of the bed. You weren't used to fighting with him and didn't understand why you were fighting so much recently. You had known Steve since grade school and remained semi friends through your schooling experience. It wasn't until his recent split with Nancy that he had shown interest you. You still weren't convinced that he hadn't used you as a rebound, but you had been together so long since then that it didn't seem to bother you anymore.

"It's because he wants you," Steve snapped as he pushed a hand through his thick hair, "He's flirting with you to get to me." You sat up further, moving the blankets so you could try and look at him. You had seen the girls Billy went after and you certainly didn't lump yourself into that group.

"Steve, this is getting out of hand. I think you're getting too paranoid. Does anyone really care about status that much?" You weren't super popular, but being on Steve's arm did leave you lumped into that crowd. You really didn't care about any of that, however, and didn't know why Steve let it get to him so much. He huffed.

"Yes, literally everyone cares about that but you." He sounded bitter, and you felt your eyes soften as you watched the hardened lines grow on his face as he was in deep thought. You sighed.

"I really don't talk to him. I promise and I'm sorry for wearing his jacket. I didn't think it was a big deal at the time," You decided apologizing was better than keeping on about some dumb fight. You knew that this was just knew to him. He was used to being the center of attention and having lots of friends. Now, his friend group had basically become just you while the rest huddled towards Billy. Steve was used to being a leader and not a follower.

"Maybe you should go," Steve sighed and you watched as he stood to hand you your clothes. You stared at the pile in your lap as you looked up at him surprised, "I have a lot to think about." You opened your mouth and shut it right away. You had planned this weekend specifically because his parents were out of town and now, he was kicking you out?

"Seriously?" You huffed as you began to dress yourself, completely irritated in the childish way he was acting, "You need to get over yourself. No one is out to get you." You shimmied your pants up over your hips, watching how he looked like he wanted to argue back. You didn't let him get the chance to start again before you were stomping down the clean hallway and down the stairs and out into the cool night sky.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you began to trek your way back to your house. You cursed Steve for his extremely fancy house that was positioned out in the middle of nowhere as you began to lose yourself in your thoughts.

Anymore it felt like your relationship was too full, like Billy was driving a wedge between the two of you. All Steve could do was complain about something he had done that made him feel even more less than before.

You didn't think you were being disrespectful in your relationship. You still didn't classify Billy as a friend, but anymore he was a lot easier to talk to than Steve. He didn't complain about social status or how hard his life was at the moment. He asked about your interests and genuinely seemed to care about what you had to say. Then again, maybe you should give Steve the benefit of the doubt. Then you remembered how he was making you walk all the way home in the chill, dark and you felt yourself growing irritated all over again.

You felt yourself tense as a car slowed near you, driving with your pace. You tried to ignore it, hugging yourself tighter. If you ended up dying you would be haunting Steve for the rest of his miserable life,“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” You were shocked to hear Billy’s voice. He appeared like the devil himself, looking rather pleased as he realized who had been walking on their own, “Need a ride?” You forgot all about your conversation with Steve, nodding as you climbed your way into the car. You were too freaked out about being abducted now to care about your boyfriends complaints.

“Thanks,” You buckled up quickly, watching as he put his smoke out, “I can pay you back.” Billy shook his head, reaching forward to turn his music down.

“It’s no problem. Where do you live?” He questioned you softly. You felt like he wasn’t this nice with anyone else but figured that was Steve’s voice crawling inside you. You told him the address, sitting back as you relaxed a bit.

“You have a nice car,” You told him politely, trying to make conversation as he took his time driving you home, “It must’ve been expensive.”

“Not really,” Billy chuckled, “I fixed most of it up myself. What about you? Do you drive?” He kept turning the conversation towards you. You were pleasantly surprised. It felt like it had been a long time since anyone had been interested in you. What you liked, what you did. You happily rambled on, not paying attention to how Billy was taking the long way to get to your house.

////////

Then, the moments started to grow. He started to be there for you more often than Steve was. You began to rely on him more, misjudging his actions to be friendly.

"Can you pick me up tonight?" You asked Steve as you leaned against the locker in your cheerleading uniform. People were rushing by to get out of school, and you didn't blame them. You'd rather be heading home than staying to practice as well. Steve sighed, slamming his locker shut as he shoved his books into his backpack. Your smiled hardened, understanding he was going through a lot at the moment.

"I'll try. I have," He paused for a moment, "I have something going on tonight." You felt your eyebrows furrowing as you listened to him. He had never been so vague before.

"Something? Like what? You're going to miss basketball practice?" You rushed all of your questions out at once, trying to understand your boyfriend. He sighed, irritated.

"Does it matter? Something is going on and I can't make practice or pick you up. My life doesn't revolve around you, you know." He spit out angrily. You were floored. He never spoke to you in such a manner before. Whatever he was going through, he was blaming you for it. You found yourself frowning.

"Sorry I'm such a bother. I'll find my own way home." You muttered, pulling your backpack over your shoulder as you turned away before he could say anything else. You didn't need this, you didn't deserve this. You hadn't done anything wrong to him.

You were still mad through practice, missing most of your usual moves and beats. Chrissy had tried to talk to you, to ask you what was going on but you brushed her off too. Steve had left you in a rotten mood. It had been building for weeks and now it felt like it was becoming too much for you to handle.

"Don't tell me you're walking," The familiar blue Camaro appeared next to you, driving slowly as you made your way down the dirt path out of the school. You sighed, wanting to simmer in your anger on the long trek home, "Hey, what's wrong?" You stopped in your spot, feeling all of the emotions bubbling up inside of you as you turned to face him.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm walking home. I'm fine," You forced out, parading the best smile as you could manage. Billy looked at you unamused thorough his shades, "Seriously, I can walk home."

"Get in," He said simply as he stopped his car. He blew smoke out towards you as he waited for you to make up your mind. You sighed, thinking that it would serve Steve right to see you get in Billy's car, "I'll drive nice and slow, just for you." Billy teased. You scoffed, getting in the passenger seat and buckling up.

"You're such a gentleman," You teased with a roll of your eyes, "Take a left on this street." You told him, beginning to give him directions to your house. He flicked his eyes over towards you as you remembered he had already taken you to your house before.

"Something on your mind?" He questioned, lighting a cigarette as he glanced at you. You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, shrugging as you glanced towards him.

"There's just a lot going on, I guess." You admitted, finding an odd comfort as you sat in his blaring car. You glanced at him, watching the way his curls moved in the wind. It was nice, being somewhere and not having to listen to someone complain about him. You weren't sure if that was the best thing to admit.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, looking at you uncertainly as he inhaled his cigarette. You watched the way the smoke tumbled from his pink lips. It felt nice having someone interested in what you were thinking about. Steve had been too wrapped up in his own problems recently to listen to you.

"Steve is just acting weird," You weren't sure why you blurted it out, maybe it felt like you had no one else to say it to. You could feel anger forming in the base of your stomach again, thinking about how quick Steve was to leave you to the side, "I don' t know, he's just frustrating sometimes." You leaned back in your seat, feeling bad for talking about your boyfriend in this manner. Billy glanced at you in keen interest as he pulled into your driveway.

"He wasn't at practice today," Billy told you what you already knew, "That's pretty weird." He took the last drag from his cigarette, watching you with keen interest. You swallowed a lump in your chest, wondering if he was thinking the same thing you were.

"Thanks for the ride," You replied with a soft smile, unbuckling your seatbelt, "I really appreciate it." You knew you would just spiral if you continued to think about what your boyfriend was too busy with that, he couldn't give you a drive home.

"What are you doing with him?" Your head snapped up, looking at your porch where Steve was resting on one of the top steps. You felt a bit sheepish, thinking about how you had just been talking about him.

"He gave me a ride, so I didn't have to walk in the dark." You replied dryly, putting on your backpack before taking slow steps towards Steve. He completely ignored your words.

"I thought I said I didn't want you hanging out around him," Steve looked at you betrayed, glaring towards the blue car that was still sitting in your driveway, "He's an asshole." You felt your shoulders stiffening in defense.

"I can make my own judgement. He gave me a ride, that's it," You were getting irritated, feeling a bit embarrassed that you were arguing while Billy was still watching, "Seriously. You're making a big deal out of nothing."

"He's not bothering you, is he?" You turned, watching Billy stand outside of his car. He was smoking again, watching you with concern. Steve scoffed, looking at you incredulously.

"Can you believe him? Asking if I'm bothering you," Steve pushed his hands through his hair, obviously ruffled as he took a step towards Billy. You followed him, not really wanting the two boys to get in a fight in front of your house. You'd have a hard time explaining that to your parents, "You can leave now." He hissed, glaring at Billy. You were too concerned with trying to keep your boyfriend calm that you missed the smirk on Billy's face.

"Just go," You were mad, giving Steve a serious look, "You're acting ridiculous. Just go home, Steve." You were exasperated but you still felt bad when he looked at you like you had smacked him.

"What about him?" He motioned towards Billy, his tone suddenly not sounding as angry as he looked at you desperately.

"He was trying to leave before you came out here acting all crazy," You protested, feeling the need to defend yourself. Steve's brown eyes softened, like he had just realized how brash he had been, "Seriously, just go home and rest. Or do something. I have homework to do." You felt a bit guilty, but you meant your words. You were too exhausted to listen to him complain about Billy tonight. You knew he would be mad at you, but you didn't care.

"Have a good night." Billy's voice carried through the thick tension, a hint of amusement in his tone as you walked up the stairs to your home. You thought about turning to wave to him but decided against it, not wanting Steve to have any more fuel to accuse you of anything.

////////////

"We can study up here," You walked up the staircasing, showing Billy up to your room. You had been partnered together for a presentation and you were hoping that you would get it done with quickly. You didn't need Steve showing up to your house, pouting because you were around Billy again, "It's a bit messy." You quickly kicked some things out of the way, trying to clear up the entrance way to your cluttered bedroom before reaching for your other homework you'd been working on.

After speaking with your boyfriends again you had agreed to stay away from Billy. You knew there had been nothing malicious about your behavior but decided that it was better to agree to his terms than continue to fight. It had worked for a while, until you realized he was talking to Nancy again. It fueled your anger, realizing that you would never been quite enough for him.

"Steve isn't here?" Billy questioned, his eyes lingering at different areas in your room. He seemed to be thinking the same thing that you were. You quickly removed your books from your bed, clearing up an area as you turned to look at him.

"No," You spoke, trying to hide your annoyance as you placed your schoolbooks on your dresser, "He had something to do with Nancy." You were sure irritation was evident as Billy turned to you curiously.

"I thought him, and Wheeler broke up?" Your hands lingered against the nightstand near your bed, staring down at the picture of you and Steve wrapped up in each other's arms. It hurt, thinking about what he was probably doing right now.

"I thought so too." You admitted, trying to ignore the pain in your heart and the lump that was forming in the back of your throat. It would be silly to cry in front of someone like Billy. You were sure he'd have no idea what to do.

"He doesn't deserve such a pretty thing like you," He stepped forward, staring down at you with intense blue eyes. Your heart sudden beat a different rhythm as your breath hitched in your chest. His hands gripped at your soft waist, rubbing patterns into your smooth skin with his rough hands.

"What are you doing?" Your breath came up rough as you looked up at the blonde boy, noticing the way his eyes were observing you. He looked like he wanted to eat you.

"When was the last time Steve touched you like this?" Billy asked as he seemed to tower over you. Your heart was pattering in your chest as you looked up at him unsure, his large hands squeezing your hips softly.

"A while," You admitted softly. Billy's fingers slowly pushed the hem of your shirt up. You felt as if your waist burst into flames from the sensation of him against you. You were melting against him, slowly moving with him as he backed you towards your bed, "He's been distracted." You tried to defend the brown eyed boy, remembering that he was your boyfriend.

"Such a shame, if I had you there would be no one else I'd think of," Billy's blue eyes held onto your gaze intensely. You were thankful he was holding onto you, fearing that if he let go, you'd fall onto your carpeted floor and melt away, "You're fucking stunning." He spoke close to your face. You hesitated in his hands, not moving your face forward as you watched him.

"I can't." You mumbled, unsure of your own words as your body seemed to be urging to press up against him. You hadn't felt this much tension or want in such a long time. It was hard to feel guilty with other sensations taking over your body. Billy cocked a grin, raising his eyebrow as his nose brushed against yours.

"You can't have fun, c'mon," He licked his white teeth, glancing away for a moment before looking at you again, "I just want you to feel good. It doesn't have to mean anything. He won't have to know." The words were balancing in your mind as you considered him.

"I don't want Steve to know. I don't want to hurt him" You were feeling your resolve break down as Billy's touch sent flames at your skin. You exhaled softly, moving your arms over your head as he pulled your shirt up. You stared into his blue eyes, watching as his eyes raked over your cleavage.

"He'd never know. You said it yourself; he's been distracted. You deserve to be treated like a Queen. Let me show you," He sounded convincing as he moved his hands behind your waist. He traveled his warm hands up your back softly, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Your heart was beating even faster as he slowly fiddled with your bra, pulling the straps apart before letting it slide down your shoulders. You quickly covered your boobs as he pulled the material off, a nervous smile pressing against your face, "Don't be nervous. You're fucking beautiful." Maybe it was because it had been so long since Steve had said those words to you, maybe you were just that deprived to search for comfort in anyone else. You listened to Billy, letting your hands fall to your sides as he drank you in, his blue eyes darkening.

He kept eye contact with you as he slowly lowered himself onto his knees of your bedroom floor. Your whole body was warming as you watched his movements slowly. There was something so odd in seeing someone like Billy on his knees for you. He unbuttoned your jeans slowly, gripping a hold of your panties along with your jeans as he pulled them down your thighs. You resisted the urge to cover your face in embarrassment as his features lit up. He smirked up at you, gently pressing his palm against your hip to knock you down onto your mattress. A squeal left your mouth, your chest filling with giddiness as you sat up on your elbows to look at him. He dragged you forward by your thighs, gleaming up at you.

"I bet your cunt tastes so sweet," He whispered as he rested your legs over his shoulders. He looked like sin as he dipped between your legs, flicking his tongue out against your wet folds. A moan left your mouth as you watched his eyes close for a moment as he savored the taste of you on his tongue, "Fuck, Harrington gave up this? Such a shame." Billy tsked, his fingers squeezing around your thighs as his mouth devoured your wet cunt. His tongue flicked and swirled between your folds before he played with your clit.

Your elbows slid out from under you as you rested against your mattress, your mouth parting in awe as you focused on the sensation of his mouth against you. You mewled out, reaching down to tangle his blonde locks in your nimble fingers. The guilt was fading away as the pleasure took over.

"Oh god," You whined out, feeling your back arching at the feeling of his thick fingers pressing into your wet hole. You whimpered softly, already feeling stretched around him as he curled his fingers into your heat. He was lapping his tongue lazily against your throbbing clit as your hands tightened in his hair. You whimpered softly, "Feels so good." You whined out, moving your hips against his hot tongue.

He chuckled softly, pulling his mouth away from your wet heat as he curled his fingers up against your walls and searched for the bundle of nerves inside of you. You were grinding down against his hand rapidly, ultimately showing him just how needy you actually were.

"Pretty Boy wasn't fucking you nearly good enough," Billy spit out, his lips trailing against your thighs as he moved his thrusted his fingers inside of you faster. You could feel the cool metal of his rings hitting against your entrance each time he pushed into you deeper, "I'll change that, baby. Gonna fuck you so nice, gonna fill that tight cunt with my cock." He promised, his teeth grazing against your thighs as he spoke. You whimpered, far into pleasure to care about how wrong his words are. You felt your toes curling as his thick digits hit that sweet spot inside of you.

"Billy!" You cried out, rolling your hips relentlessly as you chased that feeling again. You where whining, writhing on the bed as he dipped between your legs again and wrapped his pink lips around your clit. It was like he was rising you into the sky, bringing you closer and closer towards heaven.

He hummed again, sucking your clit hard as his fingers brought you to your high. You moaned, your fingers clinging to his hair as you shook around him. You were breathing hard as he slowly lowered you back to the Earth.

You were shaking still as he pulled away from you. You were in a daze as you stared up at the ceiling. It had been so long since you had had a proper orgasm. You felt your toes curl softly as he slid you back up towards your bed. You squealed softly, still trying to catch your breath.

Billy stood at the edge of the bed, unbuttoning the few buttons of his shirt before he pulled it off. You stared at his tanned skin, the toned muscles. Maybe it was your guilt, but you couldn't help but compare how he looked to Steve. You tried to shake the feelings away as he unlooped his belt and slowly pulled his jeans down his thick thighs.

Your felt your jaw dropped when he revealed his hard cock. It bobbed against his stomach, standing straight as he crawled onto your mattress to face you. You didn't look at his face, too preoccupied with staring at the thick, angry dick between his legs.

"You ready?" He didn't reach for a condom, instead he swirled the head of his cock along your sensitive clit. You jumped, hissing softly as you felt your legs shaking still from your previous orgasm. You nodded stiffly, wanting nothing more than to feel him stretching you out. He pushed his tip into you slowly, gauging your reaction.

It was like you were being split in half. Steve was long, but Billy seemed to be twice as thick. He was groaning softly, spreading your legs wider and up towards your chest as he bottomed out inside of you. You hissed softly, your walls burning as your cunt swallowed his fat cock. He looked down between your legs, spitting again as he coated your pussy with his saliva.

"Holy fuck," Billy cursed as he furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. His mouth opened in bliss as he stared down at you, "You've been holding out on me." He grunted, rocking his hips forward slowly. You blubbered at the feeling of pain and pleasure swirling inside of you.

"So big," You breathed out, unsure of how else to tell him you weren't used to his size yet. He smirked proudly, cupping your chin softly as his thumb played with your bottom lip, "S'lot." You admitted, fluttering your eyelashes as you looked up at the blonde boy again.

"Poor little baby isn't used to my big cock?" Billy teased playfully, moving his hips slowly as you adjusted around him. You whined, feeling his spit slip towards your throbbing clit. You shook your head pathetically, inhaling as you felt him slide deeper inside of him, "Don't worry, baby. When I'm done with you, you won't forget my cock." He promised, drawing his hips back softly before pushing into you harder. You squealed softly, reaching towards your pillows as the pleasure overtook the pain. You'd never been stretched in such a way before.

"Feels," You breathed out harshly as he bent lower to face you, his blue eyes watching you intensely as he built up a slow rhythm. Your pussy was growing more wet, your slick coating his hard length, "Feels so good." You whined softly, feeling your eyes close in awe. They snapped open hard when his hand connected against your cheek, smacking you softly to draw your attention back towards him.

"Hey, hey," He gripped your chin softly before he squeezed your cheeks together hard, pouting your lips out towards him, "I want you to watch me fucking this little pussy, okay? You're only to think of me right now." He demanded, looking at you seriously as you nodded your head. You were too full of his cock, in too much bliss to wonder about who else you'd be thinking of at this moment.

"Okay," You whined as he pushed his cock into you harder, leaning on your legs more as they began to burn from pleasure, "Mhm, god. Fuck me so good, Billy." You pleaded. He dipped his head low, pressing his rough lips against yours in a fleeting kiss. You felt momentarily frozen, thinking about how he tasted so much different than Steve. Steve was always sweet, Billy tasted of mint and cigarettes.

He didn't let you draw on your thoughts about Steve too long before he was slamming into you hard, his cock rubbing against your bundle of nerves as you cried out. You desperately wished to grind up against him, to push him in deeper but there was no moving under his tight grip.

"Such a greedy little whore," He spit out, watching the way you were desperately trying to move your hips, "Already made you cum on my fingers and tongue and you're grinding up against me like a bitch in heat. Was that not enough?" You shook your head, your moans cascading off of the walls.

"More," You begged, wanting to feel as much as him as possible, "Need more." You felt like crying when he stopped moving his hips. You could feel his hard length pulsing inside of you, but you still feared that you had said the wrong thing.

"Okay, I'll give you more of my cock, baby," He let go of your legs slowly as he pulled out of your tight hole. You whined, watching him move as he pulled his hard cock from your wet heat. You felt a look of betrayal forming on your face, "S'okay. I'm gonna give you my cock, baby. Just relax." You felt tense as he rolled you onto your hands and knees. He positioned you a bit, so you were facing the doorway. It felt odd, but you ignored it at the feeling of cool leather pressing against your neck. Your gasp was cut off by him wrapping his belt tightly around your neck. You struggled to breath for a moment. You felt like this was far out of your comfort zone.

"I don't know," You started to speak as you felt your pulse quickening against your wrists. Billy chuckled, sliding his hard cock between your wet folds before he tapped it against your hole playfully. You were arching back suddenly, forgetting your discomfort, "Fuck me." You changed your subject entirely, looking back over your shoulder to watch him. He grinned down at you, gripping onto the belt around your neck like it was a collar.

"You're so damn needy for my cock. Pretty Boy was just neglecting this pretty little cunt," Billy tsked as he slowly slid his tip inside of you. You moaned, trying to push back to urge him in. He gripped your backside, holding you still as he watched you, "Patience, baby. You'll get my cock soon enough. I promise." He slid in slowly, teasing you as every time he hit a deeper spot inside of you, he'd pull out again. You gripped your hands in fists around the sheets, desperately trying to hold yourself together. You wanted his cock so badly. You'd never wanted something so badly before.

"Please," You whined out, sounding breathless as he caressed your backside. You were willing to get on the ground and beg for him to fuck you. Your body was trembling with want. He bit his lip, trying to control his smirk as he slowly filled you. You mewled, feeling his balls pressing up against you from how deeply he filled you, "Yes, just like that." You sighed out in relief. Billy yanked on the belt, earning an odd sound from you as his other hand roughly smacked your backside a few times. You yelped; your moan cut off from his grip on the belt.

"S'okay baby, s'alright," Billy pulled out until only the head of his cock remained, then swiftly slammed into you. You rocked forward, your eyes hitting the back of your head as the pleasure gripped you. You felt drool forming in the corner of your mouth and you quickly tried to lick it away, "Gonna fuck you dumb, make you my own little cock slut." Billy promised, grinding his hips into you deeply before he built a rough pace. Every thrust left you slamming forward, nearing the edge of the bed as he held onto you tightly. You were a moaning mess, unable to focus on how wrong all of this was with his dick hitting your bundle of nerves with each wild thrust.

You wanted to cry out again, to tell him how good he felt inside of you, but your tongue was unable to form any words. The sounds of your skin meeting filled the room in a filthy way. Billy was grunting on top of you, smacking your backside as he dragged you along his cock. He gripped the belt, pulling you off of your elbows and against his sweaty chest as he beat his cock into your sensitive pussy. You glanced at him, whimpering as you tried to hold yourself up.

"Do you like my cock?" He asked roughly, his free hand snaking around your waist as he pressed down on the bulge forming on your abdomen from his thrusts. You whined at the odd sensation as you nodded your head quickly. He moved his hand away, smacking you lightly across your cheek, "Use your big girl words." He commanded. Your cheek lightly burned but you liked it. It was odd that the pain he was causing you made you feel so good.

"Yes," You spit out, feeling tears of pleasure beginning to form on your cheeks, "Love it so much." You nodded your head, looking at him sincerely. He smirked, licking at your swollen lips messily before he was shoving you back down with the belt. You gagged when he pulled too hard, trying to regain your breathing as he shoved your face into the mattress.

"Such a good cock whore," Billy praised as he snapped his hips forward harder. He was clawing at your waist, forcing you against him harder and you were more than happy to oblige. You didn't think it would ever feel so good to be called such terrible names, "Gonna make you my own little slut. Gonna fuck you whenever I want. You want that don't you?" He degraded as he smacked your sensitive skin again. You nodded, before quickly remembering to speak when you answered him.

"Yes," You wailed when he hit your bottom again. Your skin was beginning to feel raw and sore, "Wanna be your little slut." You promised him, nodding your head urgently to let him know that you meant it. He grunted, his fingers digging into his waist as he rolled his hips inside of you. The sensation caused your toes to curl and a loud moan to leave your lips. You could feel your stomach muscles beginning to curl, signaling that you were near.

"You wanna cum on my cock?" Billy leaned over your body, whispering huskily in your ear as his movements became more rapid. You were crying around his cock, begging him for more as your cunt gripped around his hard dick like a second skin. You were whimpering incoherently as you tried to form words.

"Yes," You finally breathed out as a line of spit let your parted lips, "So bad, please." You were begging, looking towards the blue-eyed boy. He licked his bottom lip, drawing his attention towards the doorway with a snort. You didn't care what had gathered his attention. You just never wanted him to stop moving.

"Show him how good you are baby, show him how good my cock feels," Billy snapped his hips forward, the head of his cock hitting against your bundle of nerves as he held on tightly to the belt around your neck. Your mind was fuzzy, too focused on the feeling of his cock inside you to fully understand his words. He used his other hand to smack your cheek, gripping your chin to face you towards the doorway, "Show him what he's been missing."

Your eyes met brown ones, but you were unable to do much about the boy in the doorway as you clenched around Billy's fat cock and came around him. You were shrill as you moaned, your eyes clenching shut tightly as your body trembled around Billy's tight grip. He grunted hard above you, drawing you back with the belt so you were forced to look at his flushed expression.

"Gonna cum inside your little cunt, fill you with my cum. You want that? You want me to breed you? Fill you with my seed?" He hissed out, his hips snapping against you harshly as he dragged you along his cock. You nodded in shame and pleasure, a bittersweet mixture as you were all too aware with your boyfriends' eyes watching your every movement.

You cried out another time, your toes curling again as you felt his warm cum fill the deepest parts of you. Your feet kicked off the mattress softly as he held onto the belt tighter, cutting off your airflow momentarily. He was grunting like a beast, using his other hand to claw at your sides as he came down from his high. you whimpered when he let go harshly, your head rocking forward towards your bed.

You were a mess. Hair tangled from being pulled, lips red and swollen with drool pooling down to your chest. Your skin was darker where Billy had smacked you, your pussy full of the mixture of the two of you. You were ashamed, staring up at the brown eyed boy as his eyes looked at you with horror. You tried to look away, to avert your eyes so you wouldn't have to feel your guilt.

Billy yanked the belt around your neck like it was a collar and you were a dog on a leash. He forced you to look at Steve's horrified expression as Billy's cheek pressed against yours. You felt his mouth curl into a smirk as he looked at Steve.

"Sorry man, she's a bit busy. I can't believe you weren't fucking this," Billy growled, turning your head to kiss you harshly. You whimpered in protest, feeling a pang in your chest, "She's so fucking good, man. I hope you don't mind. I just couldn't help myself." You slowly raised your eyes to look at Steve again, feeling guilty and ashamed. It was like he was stuck in his spot, no words coming forward as all he could do was stare at the two of you.

You were quiet, staring down at Steve's sneakers as Billy moved behind you. You were too aware of how you were still clamped down around his length, your pussy begging for him not to leave as he unstrapped the belt around your neck. You touched your raw skin softly, looking over your shoulder at the golden boy's proud face. He pulled out slowly, hissing from how hard you were clenched around him. You felt shame fueling every part of your body at the sound of your wet heat squelching around him, his laughter filled the tense room.

"Did you hear that?" Billy bit his lip, looking between your legs one last time before he smacked your ass hard. The sound echoed and you stiffeled a moan, feeling your legs give out from under you as you fell forward on your stomach. The sticky sensation of your mixture between your legs coated your thighs. Billy dressed himself quickly, looking towards Steve like he was waiting for him to say something or to make a move. Steve never moved from his spot in the doorway, too busy staring at you with disbelief. You were doing everything you could not to meet his eye contact. The nerves filling your body as the lust left with Billy, "I hope there's no hard feelings. I let her nice and wet for you, King Steve." Billy smacked Steve's shoulder, barely drawing a reaction from him. You watched Billy's smirk grow on his face as he pushed passed the brunette boy.

You slowly lifted your eyes to meet his gaze again, still fighting to regain your breath. Steve just stared, looking like he didn't quite recognize you at the moment. He stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he watched you.

"I was right," Steve breathed out slowly as he finally broke the tension, "I told you he was using you to get to me."

[sp0o0kylights]

Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine. 

Anyway I wrote a lil thing as a warmup 

PART TWO

"Why don't you come sit with Hellfire?" Gareth asked, angrily leaned against the bathroom wall while Steve fixed his hair.

He'd tried not to cling since he entered high school. Tried to keep things on the downlow, least any gossipy mouths started running. 

It was so stupidly, needlessly, hard. 

 His cousin was only two years ahead of him but they'd spent the last year in different schools because of it. 

 That year, and the lack of Steve's presence in it, had grated. Now that he finally had Steve back, Gareth was loathe to play by the rules. 

"Sit with you and Eddie, "the freak" Munson? I'll pass." Steve said, but there was no bite in it. 

That, Gareth knew, was because Steve was  using Eddie as an excuse. 

"You'd like Eddie if you spent five minutes with him, King Steve." Gareth fired back on automatic. His fingers dug into his arms, as he resisted the urge to pace around the bathroom floor. 

Unspoken was all the shit that had taken place.

Steve and Nancy's breakup. The rumor mill in overdrive, first about how Jonathan Byers had taken creep shot photos of them, then about how he'd taken his shot with Nancy herself. 

The supposed cheating, the public fights, the crazy background of Jonathan's little brother being missing. 

Billy Hargrove beating Steve to a pulp. 

Now friendless, Steve had thoroughly fallen from his place at the tippy top of the social hierarchy and between his utter lack of friends and his shit tier parents, Gareth was concerned. 

"You do not want me to sit with you, Gary. I'd tell all your little friends that you're apart of the royal family." Steve turned, making an exaggerated face. "How's Munson feel about cozying up to a Prince?" 

"I'd technically be an Earl, Steve, not a prince." Gareth grumbled. 

He got an eye roll in response. "Somehow I don't think he'll care." 

"I do though." Gareth blurted out, absolutely thoughtless. 

Steve blinked at him. 

"What?" He said. 

In for a penny right?

 "I care." Gareth said, looking down and scuffing a shoe, making it squeak against the grimy tiles. "About you. You dick." 

"Wow Gary you almost sounded loving there."

For once, he ignored the jab. "I'm worried about you, man." He said it quietly, the painful truth pulled out of him almost by force. 

He knew better than anyone how few people Steve had. Knew how his dad was likely taking all the crap Steve had been involved in lately. 

Richard Harrington hadn't been the wedge that had separated his and Steve's mother, but the man hadn't done them any favors, either. 

His intolerance towards the working and lower classes, his demand for perfection, the way he looked down his nose not just on Gareth's parents but on his own wife and son…

Gareth's mom didn't tolerate it. 

Likewise, Stella Harrington didn't tolerate her sister ruining her shot at being a rich trophy wife. 

Both their sets of parents were dramatic and neither of them weren't anywhere near the concept of "good" but at least Gareth's weren't neglectful and abusive. 

Shitty absolutely, but he never worried about getting thrown out, or that his mom wouldn't acknowledge his birthday because he'd "complimented her outfit the wrong way." 

(”It's fine dude she just thought I called her ugly. It was a miscommunication. Dad said it's a good lesson about how women work."

"Casual reminder that your dad's an asshole and also how is telling your mom that she looked lovely in the sunlight telling her she's ugly?”

“It implied she wasn't lovely the rest of the time or some shit, I dunno man.”) 

The BMW was a shitty prize when compared what Steve had dealt with to receive it. 

"I'm okay." Steve said seriously. "It's almost the end of the year anyways. I can tough out having some extra alone time." 

"If you're sure…"

"Yeah man, I'm sure. Thanks though."

Then Steve pulled him into a hug and fuck their parents, who demanded they continued some stupid grudge. Gareth clung to him just as hard as he had at ten. Unsure if he'd ever be allowed to see Steve again.

[chestharrington]

I Think We're Alone Now || Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Set in the S3 Starcourt era... Steve develops a fixation on the shopgirl-next-door.

Couple: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Content Warnings: explicit smut || sexual fantasy (includes oral, f and m receiving, p in v sex) and solo masturbation, kind of a panty/lingerie fetish if u squint or even just stare

Word Count: 2.9k

Whoever was in charge of Starcourt Mall planning was a sadist. That was the only explanation as to why a lingerie store was situated directly next door to Scoops Ahoy. Really, what business did it have in a food court of all places?

It also didn’t help that Steve Harrington was in the sex drought of all sex droughts— caused not just because of his stupid uniform, but probably also owed a lot to the fact that he had no college prospects, had lost his proverbial crown to Billy Hargrove, and had been cheated on with Jonathan Byers. Nothing kills a reputation quite like that. 

So there he was— showing up to work every day, walking past scantily clad mannequins and shopgirls wearing tight miniskirts, none of whom gave him the time of day when he was dressed like that. Well, none of them except you. 

“Good morning, Steve!” You greeted, wearing a tight white button-up shirt with a black pencil skirt. Like a sexy librarian had just walked off the page of a centerfold and decided to work retail. You were lifting the gate from the front of the store and placing a sale sign right between your two shops as he passed.

“You’re opening again?” He asked, pausing in front of his stupid, sticky helljob. You blew a loose piece of hair from your bangs as you stood and nodded. 

“And closing. It’s our summer savings sale,” you explained. “You should probably expect a lot of rollover customers. Stop by if you’re in the market for anything. Maybe a nice gift for a girlfriend?” Before he could respond, you gave him a pretty smile as you disappeared into your dimly-lit storefront to finish opening. 

You’d gone to high school together, though he doubted you remembered him. You were, after all, a senior while he was just an annoying sophomore on JV Basketball. You were on homecoming court, voted most friendly for senior superlatives, and were probably the hottest girl in your class. He didn’t have a chance then, and he definitely didn’t now.

But you always said hello when he passed by, and you would stop by Scoops sometimes after work and buy a cone of the flavor of the month. He wanted to talk to you more— to actually get to know you beyond a schoolboy crush, but you were so far out of his league that he couldn’t bring himself to try. 

When he walked into Scoops, his boss, Allan, had already begun the process of opening. His task of vigorously polishing the glass case of ice cream felt pointless when it was about thirty minutes from being smudged with a toddler’s fingerprints. 

“Steven, you’re late,” He said firmly. 

Steve glanced towards the clock. “I’m five minutes early.”

Allan slung the rag he was cleaning with over his shoulder and sighed. “In my book, thirty minutes early is on time, and on time is late.”

Steve made a face as he refrained from telling Allan that payroll would disagree. Instead, he put on the stupid sailor hat and pinned on his nametag. And, just because he could, he clocked in early.

His morning was hectic. Like you’d said, there were countless rollover customers who wandered in after the sale next door, each clutching a bag of lingerie and giggling with their friends. His wrist was aching from scooping so much ice cream by the time lunchtime rolled around. He would’ve gone back for his fifteen, but there you were, your hair pulled back in a banana clip, fanning yourself as you stepped into the long line for ice cream. 

When you finally reached the counter, you smiled like the two of you shared a secret. “Busy day?” You asked as you fished cash out of your purse. 

“It’s been crazy. You?”

You peered up at him and laughed wryly. “God, you wouldn’t believe the number of women in this town who jump at the chance for discounted racy lingerie. I’m drowning in satin and lace today.”

He managed to smile without looking like a complete idiot as he scooped your ice cream, handing it across the counter as you looked at him with amusement. 

“You memorized my order? That’s so sweet, Steve.”  You handed him a few bills and coins across the counter. “Keep the change, alright? Hopefully I'll see you later.”

His cheeks burned hot. “Yeah, for sure.” He stared dumbly as you licked your ice cream and walked out into the food court. 

He needed to find an excuse to buy lingerie from you... if only to have a reason to see you again that day. 

———

It was late afternoon before he got his first break and darted into the lingerie store to the shock and horror of the women inside. He hip-checked a table displaying hosiery before he stopped in front of you, smiling expectantly. 

You put down the stockings you were folding and looked at him with amusement. “Steve! What can I help you with?”

“Oh, uh… just…” He floundered as he searched for a reason, then remembered your suggestion that morning— buying for a girlfriend. “My girlfriend.”

“Oh? What’s her name? Maybe I know her.”

Steve hesitated for a moment, before saying the first girl’s name to pop into his head. “Her name is Nancy.”

As soon as your brows furrowed, he knew he fucked up. “Oh, I heard you two broke up, or something.” 

He hesitated, mouth open as he tried to find words to dig himself out of the hole. “Oh… no, not that Nancy. It’s a different Nancy. You probably don’t know her.”

You raised your brows, but said nothing to suggest you doubted him. “I can help you find something. What were you thinking?”

He reached back and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. He hadn’t thought this far. “Uh, what would you suggest?”

You considered it for a moment, looking at him carefully. “Well, that depends. Are you buying something she’d like to wear, or something you’d like to see her in?”

Steve blinked dumbly. “Both?”

You laughed lightly and walked towards a table displaying an array of underwear. “So, if you’re going for practical and sexy, I’d recommend panties.” You held up a lacy white pair and his mouth went dry. “A pair like these is pleasing to the eye, but totally invisible underneath clothes.” You stepped back and gave a tiny spin. “I’ve got them on now, and you’d think I wasn’t wearing any. Absolutely no lines at all.” 

Steve swallowed hard. Don’t picture it don’t picture it don’t picture it don’t— “Yeah, I’ll take those.” 

You chuckled and grinned. “Well, you’re an easy sell. Do you want the matching bra and garter belt to go with that?” You gestured to the mannequin atop the table. “The set is absolutely stunning when worn all together.”

He hesitated, knowing he had no use for any of this stuff. Still, the vision in his mind of you wearing the set was enough to make blood rush south and all rational thoughts leave his brain.

“I really can’t afford the full set,” he finally said after a synapse successfully fired in his brain. “I’ll just, uh, grab her size then.” You nodded and smiled. He had to pretend like he wasn’t thinking of you wearing this same pair, imagining what size would be closest to yours. He grabbed blindly at the folded pairs and retrieved the first ones his hands touched. 

“I’ll ring you up! I’ll even throw in our gift wrapping just because I like you so much.” You smiled and guided him towards the register, letting him cut the line of women waiting to pay. After he paid, you handed over a white box with a silky red bow and gave him a conspiratorial smile. “I hope you both enjoy.” 

————

The box sat on his bedside table— the proverbial elephant in the room. 

God, he thought. You probably thought he was a weird pervert who wanted to wear them or something. Well, he probably would if someone hot enough asked him to, but it wasn’t like he was seeking it out. 

His thoughts wandered as they usually did when it was late and he was home alone with nothing (or no one) to do. That night, though, his thoughts were focused solely on you. 

He thought about the professional pencil skirt you wore, of lace and stockings beneath. He yearned to peel them off of you with his teeth and bury his head between your thighs, tasting all you had to offer him. He wanted your manicured nails tugging on his hair, scratching his scalp as you cried out in pleasure above him.

He groaned, almost involuntarily reaching down to palm himself over his sweats. Talk about pathetic— even the tiniest mental image made him swell with desire. Fucking dry spell. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, bucking into his own grip. Just the lightest pressure made him groan and toss his head back, the expanse of his neck bared. He imagined your pretty mouth pressed against his throat, sucking bruises into his pale skin and felt his cock twitch beneath the confines of his pants.

He was quick to strip off the rest of his clothes, not wanting anything in the way. The dry glide of his hand along his hardening length made him hiss. With clumsy impatience, he reached for the bottle of lube inside of his bedside table, almost empty from solo use, sitting beside a mostly-full box of condoms.

Immediately, the slick sounds of him working his length filled the room— desperate and messy with need. Maybe he could’ve been patient— taken it slower, but he was overcome with lust and a desire for release.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feels so good— don’t stop, keep goin’ just like that.”

As the words mindlessly slipped past his lips, he knew he was well and truly gone. It was an entirely new level of desperate and horny to dirty talk to the girl you were hot for when she wasn’t even there. 

His free hand was splayed across his chest, just resting against the thatch of chest hair where his heart was pounding just beneath his ribs. As his desperation grew, his hand wandered lower, fondling his balls as his other hand squeezed the base of his shaft. A desperate, feral noise escaped his mouth that he’d never even heard himself make before.

He closed his eyes and he could imagine you pulling him into a dressing room, a wanton look in your gaze as you pulled the thin curtain shut, the only semblance of privacy you could get. You’d smile as you stripped off your clothes, only clad in the skimpy lingerie you’d paid for with your employee discount. 

“You’re gonna have to be quiet for me, okay?” You’d say as you pulled down his stupid Scoops uniform shorts. “Don’t want to get caught, right?”

He could feel sweat beading at the base of his neck and around his forehead, on his chest, tummy, and thighs. His entire body was burning up as he touched himself, like he was on fire from the inside out. 

He’d waste no time kneeling before you— tugging your stockings and panties down and hiking up your skirt so he could slot himself between your legs and taste you. There were few things Steve loved more than eating pussy. There was something about the taste, smell, the sounds that he could elicit with a few deft movements of his tongue. You’d pull his hair and tilt your head back as moans escaped your lips. 

He worked his length quickly as he imagined eating you out. His head was thrown back, tongue lolling out of his mouth as short pants escaped him. The slick sounds of lube and the slap of his hand at the base of his cock were pornographically loud. He’d have been embarrassed had he not had the house to himself.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. “Wanna make you cum so bad. Wanna taste you.”  He could only imagine the pretty sounds you’d make as you came, the way you’d tremble as your knees threatened to give out. He’d wait until you couldn’t take anymore before finally relenting, meeting you with a kiss.

Your hands would be soft. He knew this not just by looking at them, but also from the few times you’d put a hand on his arm when you passed by him in the service hallways. He liked thinking about your hands on him, squeezing him just the way he liked. 

“You’re so big, Steve,” you’d say from your knees, peering up at him with big doll eyes. Your hand would glide along his cock— slow, teasing. Your tongue would dart out, kitten-licking his tip before you took him into his mouth entirely.

“Mmm, fuck— feels so good,” Steve cried out, his chest heaving as he continued to work his hand along his cock. “Doin’ so good, taking it all for me. Just like that.”

Steve felt himself nearing his finish and slowed down, practically to a snail's pace to keep from busting early. What was the point of having a sexual fantasy if you finished before getting to the best part? 

He returned his attention to the image of you in his mind. How the drool at the corners of your mouth would drip messily, how your eyes would be wet and glossy as his cock bullied its way into your throat. Your free hand would move to cup his balls, heavy and full for you as you kneaded them in your palm. 

He’d bring you up to him and give you a kiss for good measure— slow and messy like you had all the time in the world. But he’d get impatient, like he was then to just give in and make himself cum. 

He’d press your back against the wall and lift your legs around his waist. You’d still be wet from his mouth, dripping with desire. You’d take him with no resistance at all, just a tight warmth like he belonged there. 

He needed more. Just jerking off wasn’t cutting it. He reached out clumsily with his free hand and grabbed the gift-wrapped box from the bedside table and tore at the silky red ribbon so he could knock the top of the box off. He grabbed the white lace panties from within and groaned at the sight.

“Ah!” He got a full-body shiver the moment he wrapped the lace panties around his cock, the fabric soft against his flushed length. They wrap around the head as he sets a fast pace, imagining that they’re yours— the same pair you’d been wearing that day. 

“Fuck,” he cried out, bucking up into his fist and the lace. “Holy shit, ‘m cumming. Fuck— fuck—“ He came with a shout, his spend soaking through the white lace, sticky on his hands and dripping down his shaft, pooling at the base. 

His breath came in soft pants as he came down, his cock still twitching weakly, rivulets of cum dripping from the slit. “Goddamn,” was all he could manage as he laid limp against his pillows. 

He’d made a mess, not just of himself, but of the lace panties he’d spent a day’s paycheck on. He grimaced at the sight of them, completely soiled from his exploits. With more effort than he even felt capable of, he sat up and tossed them into the hamper in the corner of his room. 

Afterward, he looked down at himself— the mess of cum and lube left behind. He stood and stretched on slightly weak legs and went to wash off. He’d deal with the shame of it all tomorrow.

————

You were smiling at customers when he came in for his shift the next day, feeling sensitive from the second round he’d put himself through in the shower the previous night… and the quick session he’d had in the morning. 

Part of him felt like a perv for thinking about you like that, but then you looked up, saw him, and smiled… and he felt the wariness wash away like it was nothing. 

At lunch, he walked into the store, which was far less crowded than it had been the day prior. You saw him and approached with a casual confidence that made him want to crumble to his knees. 

“Hi, Steve! Did Nancy like the gift you got her?”

His brow furrowed. “Nancy? We broke up last year.”

You laughed lightly and shook your head. “No, I meant your new girlfriend. The other Nancy.”

He swore internally as he nodded. “Right! Yes. She loved them, actually. She wants another pair.”

“Great, just meet me at the register when you’re done.” You smiled and departed. Steve couldn’t help but stare at your ass in that tight skirt as you walked away. 

He grabbed two more pairs— black and red— and approached the counter where you stood. You rang him up without further comment and smiled as you passed the bag and receipt over. 

“Come back soon, Steve,” you said with a grin before departing into the back of the store. 

That night as Steve was unpacking the bag, he found a small note written on blank receipt paper. 

“Steve, if you wanted to talk to me, you didn’t have to buy lingerie for a fake girlfriend to do it. XO” Beneath it, in clear print was your phone number circled twice. 

Steve grinned, running his thumb over the note. Maybe his dry spell was going to end sooner than he thought.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

The Babysitter Chronicles - Henderson

Steve POV 5+1 (immediately follows s2) || wc: 1.8k || full fic ao3

Henderson || Mayfield pt 1 / Mayfield pt 2 || Sinclair || Wheeler || Byers || +1 Hopper

~~~

This has been the worst week of Steve’s life.

Not only does Nancy think he’s bullshit, he found out she never actually loved him, she cheated on him, and she partially blames him for Barb’s death.

He was almost eaten alive by alternate dimension monster demodogs, almost died at the hands of Billy fucking Hargrove, almost died in the backseat of Billy’s car, and then almost died again in the tunnels. 

He’s pretty sure he has a serious concussion and a broken nose. The stitches on his forehead are starting to itch. He’s had a migraine every day since, and there’s ringing in his ears.

Steve honestly thought he could put all of this Upside-Down shit behind him. Pack it away in a tiny box and move on. Yet he was dragged into it once again, forced to protect kids he barely knows from both monsters and humans. 

He deserves to get paid for this shit, to be honest. 

He’s got no friends to sit with at lunch, no girlfriend to love him, and no parents at home to take care of him.

After spending the week at home alone, wallowing and recovering, he found himself thinking of the kids. It was the first time he felt anything other than misery and physical pain. But they were big, complicated emotions that he’s still untangling. He’s been able to pick out fear and anxiety, annoyance, exasperation, and– surprisingly– fondness. When he thinks of the kids, he’s hit with a surge of fierce protectiveness and devotion.

He’s got nothing to show for his life and no one to spend it with. Those kids, though, needed him in a way he’s never felt before. It was life or death, and they trusted him to keep them safe. Now that it’s over, even If he isn’t necessarily wanted, maybe he could at least continue being useful.

Which is how he finds himself pulling up to the same curb as he did a week ago. At least this time he’s not here about the Upside-Down; although, knowing Dustin, he wouldn’t be surprised.

“Steve!” Dustin’s running out the front door and down the driveway in just a t-shirt and sweatpants despite the chilly November morning. He plows into his chest at full speed and almost sends them both toppling over. “Steve, holy shit you’re here! Oh shit your face.”

“Hey man, language ok?” Jesus, the mouth on this kid. “Relax twerp, ease up on the hug, you're killing my ribs.”

Dustin immediately drops his arms and backs away, looking cowed. Steve’s going to have to work on his approach, apparently the kid’s sensitive. Or maybe Steve’s still a bit of a bully, another part of himself that needs to be fixed.

“It’s ok, Dustin, don’t worry about it. Just a little sore still.”

He perks back up again, bouncing up and down on his heels. The little gremlin’s toothless smile is so damn cute Steve wants to give him a noogie. 

“Ok then,” Dustin replies, “so why are you here?”

“Uhhh, actually I’m here to talk to your mom.” Feeling suddenly awkward, Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. He hisses as it pulls on his stitches.

“My mom?” he asks, incredulously. “Why? What’s going on?”

Steve supposes he should’ve thought of this. It makes more sense to talk with Dustin before actually asking his mom for permission, but he hadn’t practiced this part. Now here he is, facing down an over-dramatic middle schooler and he’s actually nervous about it.

“Yeah, I kind of noticed you’re an only child, and you don’t really have a dad around.”

Dustin’s face falls, morphing into a scowl. Shit, Steve’s barely said one word and he’s already messing this up.

“Not all of us have rich parents who buy us whatever they want,” the kid huffs, crossing his arms and kicking non-existent rocks.

“No wait, ok look I’m sorry Dustin, that’s not what I meant. I’m not really great at talking about stuff like this. The important stuff anyways. Let me try again. Please?”

The kid’s still scowling, but his body relaxes a bit and he nods.

“Ok I’ll start over,” Steve continues. “Even though we were dealing with all of the Upside-Down shit and it was literally the worst week of my entire life, I enjoyed having you around. I’d sleep better at night if I knew you twerps are safe and I know you don’t really have anyone around other than your mom and the other gremlins–”

“The Party.”

Steve stares at him, mouth hanging open as he’s cut off mid-sentence. He’s in the middle of pouring his heart out to this mouthy ten year old and he’s got the audacity to interrupt him.

“The what now?”

“The Party, Steve.” The little shit’s tone is overflowing with condescension. “The group. We’re called the Party. You know, like in DnD?”

“What the hell is a dandy?”

“You, kind of,” Dustin mutters under his breath. Steve doesn’t really know what that means and coming from this kid he probably doesn’t want to. “D and D stands for Dungeons and Dragons, Steve. It’s a role playing game.”

“Whoa, alright I think you’re a little too young to be playing role playing games.”

“I’ve literally been playing for three years.”

“You’ve been roleplaying since you were seven?”

“I’m thirteen Steve!” He’s pretty sure Dustin’s screeching can be heard from the other side of town. “What are we even talking about right now? Why are you here, at my home, looking for my mom?”

“I want to be your goddamned babysitter!” Steve screams back. He takes a deep breath– in and out. This kid’s going to be the death of him, he just knows it.

He looks down to find Dustin’s eyes wide and mouth formed in a perfect oval. The kid’s shocked, either from what Steve said or that he literally shouted it in his face. Now it’s Steve’s turn to kick rocks. He shuffles back and forth, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep them from tugging his hair again.

“You guys almost died, man,” Steve says softly, avoiding eye contact. It makes this part easier. “You almost died, and if I hadn’t been there, I have no idea what would’ve happened. Maybe you all would’ve been fine, I don’t know. But it was my job to keep you safe, and you don’t have anyone else around except your mom and the grem– I mean the Party– to look out for you. I had to quit basketball thanks to Billy, and Nancy broke up with me. My parents are literally never home, so I’ve got a lot of free time on my hands. Figure I could use some of that time keeping you out of trouble.”

Dustin’s face hasn’t changed, still devoid of any emotion other than shock. God damnit, Steve really messed this up. He looks around and rubs the back of his neck. His skin’s prickling with nerves as he starts to sweat and he takes a step backwards towards the safety of his car. 

This was a stupid idea. Why would any of these kids want anything to do with him? He’s nothing like them: smart, nerdy, can save the world without taking a beating. Steve thought he could be useful, worthwhile to someone– to Dustin. He should know better by now.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just going to go,” Steve says. But as he turns to leave, Dustin slams into him once more. Steve’s breath whooshes from his lungs and a lightning strike of pain travels up his back. He thinks he’s shaking from the pain, except his crewneck is starting to feel damp against the kid’s face and he can see Dustin’s shoulders practically vibrating. “Hey, Dustin. Hey it’s ok, are you alright? What’s wrong man, talk to me.”

Dustin doesn’t look up, just keeps his face buried in Steve’s sweatshirt and grips him tighter. It hurts and it aches and it pulls at all of his injuries. He still lets Dustin hold on for as long as he needs to. 

There’s a slight movement out of the corner of his good eye, and he glances up towards the house to see a small, curvy woman smiling at them through the window. Not wanting to dislodge Dustin, he slightly lifts his hand to wave. He’s surprised when she honest to God clutches her heart and wipes what he assumes is a tear from her eye.

Steve’s already worried he screwed this whole thing up. He definitely didn’t think it would happen in front of a goddamned audience. 

The kid’s still holding on, but the shaking has subsided and he’s breathing easier. Steve smashes his hat to ruffle his hair, and Dustin backs off with a shriek. His face is covered in red blotches matching his bloodshot eyes. Steve looks down at his sweatshirt to find a tears-snot-spit wet patch stained into his chest.

“Dude, gross,” Steve huffs. At least he’s wearing an undershirt. Dustin just chuckles. 

“Like friends?” Dustin asks, still wiping at his face. “I wouldn’t mind, you know, hanging out. Whenever you’re not busy, I mean.”

It’s Steve’s turn to feel a burn behind his eyes. Relief fills him with warmth as his growing anxiety is washed away. Dustin wants him around. He wants to spend time with him and Steve never really thought he’d get this far. All he had was a half-baked idea to serve himself up for the one thing he knows he’s good for. And he was wanted.

He reaches out and pulls the kid back in for a hug, holding him tight despite the pain. Dustin starts trying to push off, so Steve flips him around under his armpit in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles roughly into the top of Dustin’s hat as he starts to screech again. He huffs, straightening out his hat, still sporting that iconic toothless smile. 

“Now,” Steve says, “all I have to do is ask your mom.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Dustin replies, turning around to lead Steve towards the house. He sees the curtains pulled roughly shut and the silhouette of the woman heading toward the front door. “She already knows all about you. I told her what happened. Well, the government version.”

“You told your mom about me?” Steve asks in awe.

“Duh, why wouldn’t I? Sure, you got your ass handed to you, but it was totally awesome!”

“Right,” Steve scoffs. He’ll let that one slide for now. “You’re sure she won’t mind?”

“Mom’s going to love you. She’s been asking about you all week.”

If she’s anything like her son, then hopefully Steve’s got nothing to worry about. And maybe if he can watch one kid, he can talk to the rest of their parents– look after the whole Party of gremlins. He can host after school hangouts and movie nights, sleepovers in the living room and pool parties in the summer. There’s the beginnings a plan forming in his head, which parents and kids he needs to talk to next. 

When he’s met with Mrs. Henderson’s warm smile, he thinks maybe the rest of this year will be alright.

[rigginsstreet]

Steve should have cheated on Nancy with Billy

I mean when would he have had the time Nancy broke up with him like 2 minutes after he met Billy lmao

BUT

I do love a sloppy steve moment so imagine with me if you will:

Steve is happy in love with his girlfriend. Life is going great as far as he’s concerned. He’s at a Halloween party all dressed up dancing the night away with his girl. What could be better than this

He ends up in the kitchen at one point to get him and Nancy some more lunch. He’s still got a bounce in his step, grinning from ear to ear. Maybe he can convince Nancy to neck in the car later before she has to go home or he can sneak into her room… whichever

But then the new guy is suddenly at his shoulder, probably waiting for his turn at the punch. Steve’s all “oh hey man here you go” and makes to leave but billy starts his whole king Steve thing except this time without any venom. He’s being super flirty about it and Steve “never met a homosexual” Harrington is super confused and absolutely not picking up what Billy’s putting down so he leaves the exchange bewildered but also kinda horny for some reason… he’s probably just drunk. Whatever

Cut to Steve in the bathroom taking a piss when billy stumbles in all “oh oops my bad” like genuinely didn’t know anyone was in here but once he sees it’s Steve he goes from 😳 to 😏

Gets ESPECIALLY excited when he sees Steve’s dick is still hanging out and wooo boy that thing is impressive.

And Steve’s all awkward fumbling trying to get out like “oh yeah it’s fine I’ll just go lol” but then billy starts flirting with him again, starts talking about what a nice looking dick he has cuz billys just drunk enough to be a little too forward for his own good and Steve’s never had another guy talk about his dick outside of like locker room banter and it’s this sweaty shirtless guy with nice tits - wait what who said that - and Steve won’t lie he’s kinda getting hard about it…

So anyway cut to billy on his knees giving Steve a blowie in the bathroom that rocks Steve’s world and awakens him to some homosexual desires he previously did not have and billy sends him out back to his girlfriend and calls it’s a night

And the rest of the night Steve is thinking about billy and his mouth. Thinks about it when he’s fucking Nancy in the back of his beemer. Thinks about it the next day at school when they’re meant to be studying in the library. DEFINITELY thinks about it during basketball practice when hargroves rubbing all over him in those tight little shorts and like

Steve is NOT gay. Has never been gay. Him dragging Billy into the equipment closet after practice is just like…a fluke. An experiment to see if his drunk mind is still possessing his sober one.

But after a week of messy hook ups in janitors closets and under bleachers and the quarry on a Saturday morning steve doesn’t think he can keep blaming being drunk anymore…

[allthingsfangirl101]

*Post-Practice Cool Down–Steve Harrington

Warnings: unprotected sex, shower sex, rough/kinky sex, language

Billy Hargrove came to Hawkins and immediately tried to take over. The girls loved him and the guys hated him. From the second he met Steve, he made it his life mission to get in his head. And he had two ways to do this; through basketball and me.

We've been friends since kindergarten after Steve stood up for me when Tommy kept pulling my pigtails. During freshman year, my crush finally asked me out. I was so excited but after two dates, I caught him making out with another girl.

I was so heartbroken I ran home from school that day. A little later, Steve came climbing through my window. He sat with me all night and kept saying what a douche the guy was and that I deserved better. I fell asleep in his arms. Right as I fell asleep, I heard him whisper that he loved me.

The next day at school I was awkward and nervous around him. He asked me at lunch what was going on and I couldn't tell him. He dragged me to the baseball field and we sat down on the bleachers. He pushed me to tell him what was wrong.

                              ~•~

"Come on, Y/N," Steve sighed as he grabbed my hand. "You gotta talk to me. I'm your best friend. I know when something's wrong."

"I heard you," I whispered.

"What are you talking about?"

"After Luke cheated on me, you came over," I started to recount. "You stayed with me all night and. . . Right before I fell asleep, I heard you whisper something."

"Oh," Steve mumbled, catching on. I felt him readjust his grip on my hand.

"It's okay," I said quickly. Steve looked at me, instantly studying me.

"It is?"

"Yeah," I shrugged. "Because I. . . I mean we've. . . I do."

"You do?" Steve asked, scooting closer to me.

"I do," I whispered. I gasped when Steve leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. Smiling, I slowly started kissing him back. We got lost in the kiss. The only thing that brought us out of it was the bell ringing.

                              ~•~

Ever since Billy came to town, Steve's been kind of tense. He's been almost defensive. No matter what I do, nothing seems to help.

I sat and watched the boys play basketball, cringing when Steve slowly started getting frustrated. He kept making eye contact with me. Whenever he did, his eyes softened. But then Billy would say something and Steve would get angry all over again.

I jumped when Billy pushed Steve to the ground. I sat at the edge of my seat when Billy went to help Steve up. He whispered something before roughly pushing him back down. Steve was fuming as he went to the boy's locker room.

I waited for Steve but he was taking longer than normal. When everyone else had gone home, Steve still hadn't come out. Sighing, I grabbed my backpack and headed into the locker room. I could hear the water running.

"You know something, Harrington?" Billy laughed. I peeked around the corner to see Billy turning off Steve's shower. "I gotta give you some props. That girl of yours? Y/N? She's pretty sexy. Sexier than you, that's for sure. She's too good for you. Maybe I should. . ."

"If you go anywhere near my Y/N," Steve started to threaten.

"You know, if she ever wants someone to show her a real good time, have her give me a call."

Billy smirked before leaving the showers. I tucked into a stall as Billy got dressed and left. When he was gone, I finally snuck out. I walked around to the showers and saw Steve angrily hit his shower head and turn it back on. I bit my lip, unable to stop myself from looking over my boyfriend's wet body.

I found his locker and slowly took off my shirt and jeans. Still in my underwear, I walked back to the showers. I double-checked that we were alone before walking into the showers.

"You're wasting water."

Steve turned around, unable to stop himself from checking me out as I slipped out of my underwear. "What are you doing here?" He panicked, quickly turning off the water. "Y/N, this is the boy's shower."

"Exactly," I giggled as I reached up to take off my bra. Steve chewed on his bottom lip as he watched me unhook it in the front.

"Baby," he stuttered. "What if. . ."

"No one else is here," I said softly as I stepped towards him. I smirked as I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at my eyes, not my breasts. "You're all hot, baby. You need to cool down."

Steve moaned as I grabbed his shoulders and lifted my leg. He bit his lip as he grabbed my leg, pulling me closer to him.

"Everyone left a long time ago," I whispered.

"Good," Steve grunted as he pushed me up against the wall. He instantly attached his lips to mine.

Our lips moved messily in sync as we pulled our bodies close together. Soon, we were grinding in our usual rough and smooth rhythm. Steve squeezed my thigh, pulling me closer as he pushed into me. I broke the kiss and moaned as he started thrusting in and out of me.

Steve leaned down and pressed his face between my breasts. I swore under my breath as he played hockey with his tongue and my nipple.

"Oh baby," I moaned loudly.

Steve broke the kiss and roughly pulled out of me. He turned me around and pushed me up against the wall. My hands were pressed against the shower wall as Steve lined himself up.

"Fuck, baby girl," he swore as he pushed into me.

I leaned back against him as he snuck his hands around my body. He slid his hands up my stomach until he found my breasts. He squeezed them as he pulsed in and out of me. Steve slowly pulled out of me, making me gasp in pain.

"Sorry, baby," he whispered. "You know I can't control myself around you. It takes everything in me not to take you to the bathroom and devour you every day I see you."

I turned around and wrapped my arms around his neck. "I don't mind you being rough with me," I whispered. "It makes me feel sexy."

"Good," he groaned. "Because you are, baby girl. You're my sexy little kitty cat."

"And your my protective big dog," I whispered standing on my toes, purposefully pushing my body against his.

"Fuck yeah I am," he said darkly.

"Stevie?"

"Yes, baby girl?"

"Turn the water back on."

"Yes ma'am," he moaned.

I gasped, arching my back when he pushed into me as he leaned over and turned on the water. We let out surprised gasps that turned into lust-filled laughs as the water washed over us.

Steve looked into my eyes and smirked. He pushed me back against the shower, making me choke on my moan. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer to me.

He looked directly into my eyes as he pushed into me. I grabbed his face and brought his lips down to mine. Our lips instantly started moving roughly in sync as he began thrusting into me.

"Come on, baby," he moaned against my lips. "Release for me."

"Not yet."

Steve groaned in protest as started to speed up his movements. I finally broke the kiss and leaned my head back against the shower pole as I arched my back. He leaned down and started sucking on my neck without skipping a beat.

He reached down and grabbed my thigh, wrapping it around his waist. He then grabbed my other thigh. He gripped my thighs tightly as he picked me up. His movements officially reached the roughest he's ever gotten with me. That's when I released.

We both let out small whines as Steve pulled out of me and put me back on my feet. I kept my arms wrapped around him and his body pressed to mine. We looked into each other's eyes as we caught our breaths and came down from our highs.

Steve leaned down and pressed his lips gently to mine. When he broke the kiss, he took a small step away from me. He grabbed my hands, gently squeezing them. Steve let go of my hand, and with the one he was still holding, he led me out of the showers.

I smiled when Steve handed me a towel. I stood on my toes and kissed him as I grabbed it. I wrapped the towel around my body and started walking back to Steve's locker. We got dressed, sharing cheeky glances.

Once we were dressed, Steve grabbed my hand and we walked out of the school together. We got into his car but he didn't drive away. I looked over to see him lost in thought.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he said softly. He looked over at me, his eyes softening. "I want to make sure you know how much this meant to me."

"Sneaking into the boy's showers and having unprotected sex with my boyfriend?" I teased.

"No," he sighed, reaching over and grabbing my hand. "For standing by my side. I know I have this weird fued with Billy going on. He just. . . He keeps getting under my skin and it irritates the living hell out of me. I just want to. . ."

"Steve," I gently cut him off.

"Sorry," he chuckled. "What I was trying to say is you've stood by me. You've been on my side. You've calmed me down. And not just by sleeping with me. Sure, sometimes you simply kiss me and I calm down. Or you grab my hand. Or you physically pull me away. Whatever you do, it always works. It's nice having someone on my side."

"I will always be on your side, Steve."

"I know," he smiled. "That's why I love you."

I leaned over the console and pressed my lips to his. I felt him smile as he kissed me back. We broke the kiss before we could get too into this kiss.

"I love you too, Stevie," I whispered. "And I promise, I'll always be here for you."

"Good," Steve said softly. "Because I don't want you anywhere but right next to me."

"I don't plan on being anywhere else."

[thevestigeofvanillaan]

a little present for my absence🤷‍♀️.

soundgasm links!!

Jealousy. (Part 5).

The Sleepover.

Library. (Part 3).

Thanksgiving. (Part 10).

Sneaking into your High-school Friend's Room

Your Boyfriends Father Helps You out during NNN.

A Christmas Dinner.

Are you feeling like a Good Girl again?

Fuck me? How about Fuck You. (Part 1).

Fuck me? How about I Fuck You Again. (Part 2).

some of these are from a series that i didnt add all the links to. but, these are my favorite ones from the series (it's called "The Boy Next Door" I think lol). oh and sorry if i messed up which part they are, i did it from memory. all the links are m4f and have different kinks and shit like that.

Here's (them in order as listed above): what I thought about them.

I enjoyed this one, I feel as though this entire series sounds a lot like Tate Langdon (ahs). This guy is known for sounding like Evan which he very much so does.

Again this guy sounds like Evan, which is.. hot. I can't really remember much from this one but I remember really liking it which is why I copied the link lol.

This one probably makes more sense if you listen to part 1 which is when you and (Tate) met at the church and he masturbated you in the back. Also I forgot what part 2 even was so sorry.

I like this one. But, if you like this one and part 5 I wouldn't recommend listening to the one called anger which I believe is after part 10.

This one was okay. If you're into that kinda like masturbating in front of someone else kinda thing this is what you'd wanna listen to. Oh, and this was def Steve Harrington (st).

This one, too, was okay. I didn't hate it. If you like dilfs, or cheating, or both, then this one's for you.

I really like the story part. The very beginning where he's telling a story is so sexy.. but the kinks and subby stuff wasn't my style. This gave Billy Hargrove (st) btw.

Again, I don't remember much of this one but if I copied the kink then I probably enjoyed it. I think this one possibly sounded like Steve? But I'd have to listen again.

Don't think this one gave me an idea of a person, but his voice is attractive. He kinda has an accent that's hidden in certain words but you can hear it.

I love this one. Part 2 > Part 1, if im being honest. I like how he redeemed himself for being such an asshole and how he realized that you're actually worth his time. Loved this one.