#Steve Harrington au

[cherry-smokes]

Sugar Me

AKA the time you meet Steve at one of your gigs loosely based on Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard Pairing: Steve Harrington x bassist!reader best friend!Eddie x bassist!reader Word count: 3k Note: reader goes by Sugar and uses she/her pronouns Warning: Sugar is a flirt:)

Sometimes you think you would be the most miserable person on earth had you not been in your 20’s in the 80’s. Rock and roll is alive and well and as Eddie likes to scream when he’s four beers in, it will never die!

Meeting him was one of the greatest gifts you were granted. Despite what the rest of Hawkins thinks, he’s the greatest guy you know. The rock scene was supposed to be all about going against the grain. Expressing yourself and indulging in things most people are too scared to indulge in because of what others might think. Despite this, it’s still infested with misogyny. Especially in a place like Hawkins.

Getting people to take any of your interests seriously as a woman is damn near impossible. Not with Eddie though. When he asked you to join Corroded Coffin you didn’t think twice. Eddie trusted you. He appreciated your talent and you knew going into it that you wouldn’t just be eye candy to draw in a crowd as the only chick in the band. To Eddie, how you dressed or how you presented yourself on or off stage didn't mean anything. As soon as you got that Bass in your hands, that's all that mattered to him.

Before you met him, finding your place in Hawkins had been frustrating. You'd tried other bands but they just never worked out. When guys in bands are raunchy and bold they're praised. For them it's a badge of honor. God forbid a woman dresses in the same skin-tight clothes and flirts, now that would just be down right slutty right?

Thankfully for you, the guys in the band don't share this sentiment. However they do have their moments. They're just guys after all.

When Eddie mentioned he’d invited his friends to your gig tonight you were a bit surprised. You’ve never been one to judge a book by its cover, but from your brief knowledge of Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington the last place you expected him to want to be on a Friday night is a dive bar at the edge of town.

You’ve heard Eddie’s Hail Mary about how-

“He’s a changed man Sugar, swear it!”

You believe him, really! If Eddie told you the sky was red you’d believe him too. Despite whatever bulletin board conspiracy your band mates have drawn up you aren’t fucking Eddie. He’s your best friend, frankly you’re still waiting for the day people can comprehend that a guy and a girl can be friends without secretly wanting to make out and elope in Vegas.

Steve Harrington however, was not a man you could be ‘just friends’ with.

The second he walks into the bar trailing behind a girl with mousy blonde hair and a chic vest you pause mid sip, beer instantly forgotten. No one is allowed to look that good in a Polo. Don’t even mention the hair-the hair! It’s a waste he isn’t in a glam rock band, blasphemous even.

He looks out of place in the bar. He shakes all the guy’s hands following it with a pat on the arm similar to how a Wall Street guy would greet his coworkers.

“Stevie, Buckley. This is the one and only Sugar!”

He introduces you in that tone he tends to use during a campaign. You lean across the table as Robin sits down to shake her hand.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Eddie never shuts up about you.”

“How could he?”

You tease as you scooch your chair to make space for Steve to drag one over to your table. He sits down, holding his hand out to shake yours “Nice to meet you I’m St-“

“Stevie right?”

You cut him off with a firm hand shake and a curl of your red lips. Similar to his cheeks as he nods in agreement.

This is just going to be so fun. You've heard rumors about how much of a playboy he was back in high school. However, considering that he spends most of his time babysitting kids and according to Eddie ‘striking out’ you have a feeling that isn’t the case anymore.

You can’t help but notice the way his eyes linger over the lipstick stain on your cup, or the way your leopard print pants stretch over your thighs.

“This your first show?”

He looks back at you, wiping his palms down his jeans. He looks all American. Like he came straight out of a Bruce Springsteen song.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Well, I’ll make sure it’s extra special for you tonight.”

“You’ve only known the guy two seconds why are you giving him special treatment Sugar, I thought I was your main man?”

Eddie says this as he kicks your leg underneath the table.

“When you look like that you get special treatment, I don’t make the rules.”

You take a sip of your beer, glancing at Steve over the glass.

“Alright Casanova finish your beer we gotta get up there soon.”

You raise one arm in surrender as you chug what’s left and go to stand up. Making sure to lightly drag your arm behind Steve’s chair as you start walking to the stage. You turn to Robin before leaving, “killer vest by the way.”

You know Eddie is just teasing. This is just who you are, and you really get a kick out of seeing how many buttons you can push. How pretty and pink you can make a guy. According to the flush that spread over Steve's face, pretty damn pink.

It's just fun. You get the feeling Steve tends to go more for the 'girl next door' type and you've never been one to get your hopes up. Hawkins hasn't necessarily been kind to people like you. Guy's were never really that into you in your early teens. When they were, it was because they assumed you were an easy lay. You can imagine their disappointment when your idea of a perfect first date wasn't hooking up in the back of their dad's cars or under the bleachers.

It's fine though. Guys are much more fun when you can flirt them up at the bar and never see them again. It keeps your schedule free for rehearsals anyways.

You find yourself lost in this thought as you set up on stage. Glancing over at the bar you see Steve and Robin bickering quietly. He holds a beer out of her reach as she yanks at his hair before snatching it out of his hands. You can't help but see a resemblance between them and you and Eddie.

As if he knows what you're thinking he comes up behind you, guitar in hand as poke's at your side.

"Ready to rock and roll?"

"You sound like a dad when you say that."

"I thought you liked that kind of thing?"

You shove him harshly but can't help the laugh that comes out of you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Steve swears this is heaven.

Yeah it’s hot in the bar, and it reeks of beer and sweat and he’s being jostled around like a punching bag but god it’s worth it when he sees you on stage.

Baby hairs stick to your forehead, sweaty and glistening. Your black top clings to your body and he feels like an asshole for staring at your legs in those pants. The real kicker is your hands. The way you pluck at the base effortlessly as if they’re gliding on air.

He flinches as the band finishes up the song and Robin hollers right beside him.

“They’re good! Not that I didn’t think they’d be good, I totally believed Eddie when he said they were but they’re like-actually good!”

Steve holds back a chuckle, Robin is a light weight but he’s glad she’s a happy drunk.

“Yeah, they’re killer.”

Eddie speaks up breathlessly from stage.

“Alright everyone, for our last song of the night let me draw your attention to our very own Sugar for a very special cover.”

He dramatically gestures over to you and bows down as you step up to your own mic, which you’ve been neglecting for most of the night.

The crowd hollers for a moment before cooling down. It’s hypnotic, the way you command a room just with your presence. As if you could make everyone buckle at their knees with just a breath.

“Step inside

Walk this way

You and me babe

Hey hey!”

The crowd roars at the familiar favorite. Steve’s never been one for rock music, but he can’t help but bob his head to the beat alongside Robin. He thinks he’d listen to every goddamn song ever created if it was coming out of your mouth.

You pull your hair back in your hands as you tap your leg rhythmically, seductively eying the crowd. Your bass hangs low by your waist and sways slightly. It’s obscene, everything is obscene when you look like that.

“I'm hot, sticky sweet

From my head to my feet, yeah”

It’s like you know what you’re doing. There’s a confidence that spills from you and he’s down like a dog. He feels like you could stomp his heart out with your black boots and he’d polish the blood off them with the shirt off his back afterwards.

Fuck he’s pathetic.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The feeling right after finishing a set is always the best. You're all giddy, high off the adrenaline and slightly cocky. You could perform in front of just three people and you would all still feel like hot shit.

"That was awesome!"

Robin breaks through the crowd with Steve trailing behind her, promptly apologizing to the men she's shoving aside. The way she walks through the larger and gruff looking men as if it doesn't phase her amuses you. From what you've heard about Robin through Eddie, you've grown to admire her from afar. While you've always been too shy to admit it, you've been dying to meet her. You love your guys but you often find yourself desperately yearning for someone who you could connect with on a deeper level. You've known Robin to be deeply feminist. You've read some of the Zine's she makes alongside Nancy Wheeler, fighting against the patriarchy and the typical conservative views in Hawkins. You're aching to collaborate with them on one.

Which is why you immediately agree to her request to buy you a beer.

As she drags you over to the bar, Steve stays back with the group. Shooting a longing glance at you as you walk away as if he had something he wanted to say to you.

"Harrington strikes out once again."

Steve's head whips towards Eddie.

He starts fumbling over his words immediately. He knows from past conversations that you and Eddie have only ever been just friends. He has also, much to his dismay at first, grown to care for Eddie and their friendship. He wouldn't want to cross a line in trying to get to know you in a more than friendly way.

"I'm not striking out-I'm not even in the game."

The guys all burst out in boyish laughter, making Steve roll his eyes.

"Dude. You were practically drooling the entire set."

Gareth says this before mimicking Steves' starstruck face he saw in the crowd.

"It was hot in there!"

"Oh yeah, I bet it was."

Jeff and Gareth leave to get beers of their own which leaves Eddie and Steve.

After a moment Steve speaks up.

"Look man, I'm not going to try anything I know you guys are close I don't want-"

Eddie cuts him off.

"Steve. You gotta know that doesn't bug me right? If you decide you want to actually get in the game I won't stop you."

He leans in close, and in his most theatrical voice whispers "but know this, it isn't a game for the weak."

He loudly slaps his hands on Steve's shoulders before hollering over his shoulder.

"Buckley! How about a game of pool?"

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Your head whips over to find Eddie ready to drag Robin away for a game of pool. You would be disappointed, but you've already made plans with Robin to hang out sometime this week, and Steve is already walking over to you.

"Hey stranger, can I buy you a drink?"

He chuckles softly as he sits on the stool that used to belong to Robin. Who is loudly arguing over the rules with Eddie behind him.

"I'm pretty sure its supposed to be the other way around."

"Say's who?"

You both look at each other then. For the first time tonight you're able to really take him in. He has the prettiest eyes you've ever seen. Light brown, the way the lights in the bar reflect in them makes it seem like there's specs of gold in them. More than anything though, they look kind. It stirs something up within you. A feeling you so often try to push down. Then he smiles at you and you have to look away before you let the feeling come up any further.

You wave the bartender down and order a beer for Steve. Who nods in thanks before facing his body towards you.

"You were pretty amazing up there."

"I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

"Is that why they call you Sugar?"

You furrow your brows at him, not exactly sure what he means.

"The song?"

You go slightly red, embarrassed that you didn't catch onto what he meant. You feel silly. Guy's don't usually make you feel this way. They don't make your mind fog up. You feel tense, like you're hyper aware of how you're sitting and breathing and wondering if he can tell how fast your heart is beating.

"Oh! Right the song!"

He laughs at your response finding it endearing. He sees a slight crack in the persona you've put up all night. He wants to break it open and get to know who you are when you aren't on stage. He wants to know what kind of person you are alone, when everyone has gone and you're unwinding for the night.

"No the song worked its way into the set list later on but Eddie started calling me Sugar because he thinks it's ironic."

"Why would it be ironic?"

You laugh at this before you catch the look on his face and realize he's being serious.

"Well...I've been known to be a bit...blunt I guess."

He nods in understanding. He thinks this is his shot. If he can prove to you now that he's a worthy competitor in whatever game Eddie was talking about he might have a chance.

He gets the sense that you won't just agree to going out with him. He knows his reputation, knows the kind of person he was before. He thinks about it for a moment and wonders if he should dust off his old tactics but, that just doesn't feel right. He figures he should just be honest. Even if it makes him seem like a total dork in front of you.

"I thought they called you Sugar 'cause you're sweet."

He mumbles this and hides behind his beer as he takes a sip. You still heard him though. His compliment is corny, it resembles that of a dad joke and if he didn't seem so earnest about it you would have rolled your eyes.

But he's blushing and his eyes keep bouncing to your face to see your reaction and you can't help but send him a sweet smile. Not a flirty one, or a teasing one. A genuine smile that means he said something right.

"You think I'm sweet?"

You're indulging yourself. You've been called hot before. Sexy, confident. These compliments are nice sure, but nothing compares to the feeling of someone complimenting the way you are.

"Yeah, I mean Eddie talks about you all the time. Even from what I saw tonight, you just...you seem like a really warm person."

He can't remember the last time he was so nervous. He's sure he sounds like an idiot.

One look at your face and he stops worrying about all of it. He wishes he could have met you sooner. He thinks he could have avoided becoming such an asshole had you been around to not make him feel like an idiot for being so soft.

"Well aren't you a sweetheart Stevie."

He lets out a relieved breath, it sounds like a laugh.

"I don't know about that."

"Don't be so humble, I doubt I'm the first girl to tell you that."

"I hope you're the first girl who means it"

You realize now exactly what Eddie meant when he said Steve was a changed man. You've trained yourself to see men as one thing. Someone who doesn’t listen, doesn’t care, and doesn't feel anything other than lust and pride. When Steve says this, you realize he isn't the same guy he used to be. He's someone, who like you, wants to be seen.

God do you see him.

"If Eddie talks about me as much as you say he does, you should know I never lie."

"I'll take your word for it."

He lifts his cup to yours. You clink them together before taking a sip. Behind him, Robin gives out a triumphant yell as she scores a point.

"Do you wanna go watch them play?"

You don't want to, but you ask anyway. There is something at the back of your head telling you to look for an out. To walk away before you're in too deep.

Steve doesn't even glance behind him as he places his drink down and makes himself comfortable.

"I doubt I'm missing much."

You smile at him once more.

Later, when you're all leaving the bar. Steve, who barely nursed his one beer walks Robin to his car and glances over at you as you load your equipment into the back of Eddie's van.

Robin waves hastily at you "See you soon!"

You laugh and wave back before hopping into the passenger seat.

When you're all settled in Eddie speaks up.

"Sugar and Stevie sitting in a tree..."

"Shut up."

As he drives you home, you can't help but think that you wouldn't mind k-i-s-s-i-n-g in a tree with the sweet boy.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────

a/n: this was so much fun to write! If anyone would want to read more about Sugar and Steve let me know, I would love to make this an on-going series if y'all are interested:)

(also! all of the images used here are from Pinterest!)

[hotwritergf]

Imagine Steve finding out Eddie’s birth name is actually Theodore and he insists on calling him Theodore for a week straight as revenge for the many times Eddie has called him Steven.

Theodore turns to ‘Theodorable’ just to make Eddie roll his eyes, but then he just calls him Theo for a while and Eddie is really growing sick of it. To the point where he’s got Steve pinned to the wall growling in his ear about how “pretty boys usually have manners.”

Steve feeling as bratty as ever responds with “Yes Theodore anything for you Theodore.” <3

[mimimunson]

nicknames / steddie / headcanon

steve has some really stupid nicknames for eddie.

- the flash (bro is so hyperactive and theatrical all the time)

- echo (he repeats the questions you ask him every single time)

- trouble (“oh here comes trouble” ARE YOU KIDDING)

- eds (he usually uses this in passing or when he’s tired)

- daddy

- pretty boy (he’s right and he should say it with chest.)

- edward (only when he’s being annoying)

[wheatnoodle]

steve but a year younger than he is so he’s a senior when the kids get into freshman year. they still join hellfire, there’s no changing that.

and sure, sometimes eddie gets confused when he watches mini wheeler give steve a smile and a wave in the hallway that the fallen king always returns. and he doesn’t quite get why dustin will choose to sit with steve alone at a lunch table most days rather than with hellfire. (fully understands sinclair and harrington meeting up on the courts after school)

but what really, truly baffles eddie is the way king steve seems to now always be around to step in whenever the popular kids start teasing eddie. and he hasn’t gotten a swirly since the previous school year. or when steve moves to the empty seat next to eddie in english.

what was he playing at? and why were his new sheep in on it?

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.7K]

THE TIMELINE

"There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember, It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender. And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning, I never know what to think about. I think about you."

- About You By The 1975

V. HAWKINS, INDIANA: 1988

Two years had passed since the last gate had closed and despite the aftermath of the “earthquakes,” Vecna had yet to make any sort of reappearance. 

Max’s bones healed, eventually, and she regained most of her sight, relying on thick lensed glasses when she grew tired or the words in her books turned blurry. Nancy went to college, Jonathan tried it for a year, Hopper took El on a month-long camping trip to see something other than the town repairing itself and Lucas went to therapy. 

Soon, each kid followed suit, attending sessions that eventually helped them sleep a little better because even though they couldn’t tell the person on the other side of the coffee table about monsters and the world under their feet, there had been enough death and suffering to fill the hour with regardless. 

Dustin told Steve he should go too and Robin agreed. After Eddie’s funeral, the one where they all stood with Wayne, a guy from the garage Eddie worked at on weekends and the remaining Hellfire members beside a small gravestone, they had another one. 

A second ceremony near the woods behind Eddie’s trailer, close to where he died, to where Dustin had found him bleeding and proud. The kids cried and Joyce held on tight to Will while Jonathan hugged Nancy and Dustin punched a tree trunk. It felt better than the first one, easier somehow, when they didn’t have to lie and hide the guilt they had at knowing each and every one of them felt a little shame in having a hand in someone’s else’s death. 

But it was closure. 

The town healed, roads were repaired, houses rebuilt, new flowers planted in the park in memory of those who had been lost in the accident - the natural disaster that made headlines, the one that no one could have predicted. 

Steve helped Dustin clean Eddie’s grave when the spray paint covered the dead boy’s name. Robin stopped crying when she looked in the mirror each morning. Jonathan left his room. 

The kids got better. They smiled more, went to the new arcade on opening day, shared slushies and rode their bikes around town again. Joyce visited Wayne when she could, took him pies and meatloaf and eventually got him out of his armchair and into a coffee shop for a full hour. Hopper got his job back, had a ceremony that preceded the funeral he had years before and Robin managed to get her and Steve a sweet gig at the record store that replaced Family Video. 

It felt fresh. New. Clean. 

So why was Steve still dreaming about gates?

For the third night in a row, he woke up gasping. A yell stuck in his throat that tasted like metal, like blood, and he was drenched. Shirtless, his sheets stuck to his chest, the weight of them tangled around his legs in a sickly familiar way, vines tugging at his ankles. His room was dark, the house empty, too quiet. Quiet enough that his breath ripped from his lungs in harsh pants, his head pounding from the exertion of running in his dream, back in a place that he hadn’t seen in almost twenty one months. 

At first, he dreamt of death. 

Of Eddie and how they found him lifeless and in Dustin’s arms. How Max was barely conscious in the attic of the Creel House, her body broken in ways that no doctor could understand. He dreamt of how he had pulled Lucas away from her, the boy sobbing and yelling, fighting with more strength than he knew he had as Steve tried to restrain him just enough for the paramedics to get Max into the ambulance. 

Then the dreams turned empty. He dreamt of losing everyone, Robin, Dustin, Hop. El was gone, Will too, Mike nowhere to be found. Nancy’s house was empty, Joyce and Jonathan didn’t exist and Steve sat alone in a town that turned grey, crumbling to dust until the vines came back and the clouds turned red. 

He ran miles every night, searching for his friends, his family. Woke up to shaking breaths and sore legs like he’d really sprinted across a town that was no longer home and each morning when the sun rose, he sat with a coffee and his bare legs dipped in the pool in his backyard. He stared at the water until the ripples blurred and wondered how long it would take for Barb to come haunt him too, if she’d reappear in his dreams despite the years that had gone by, if she’d come crawling back out of his pool like she used to, dripping wet and with no eyes. 

But Barb never came and he stopped dreaming of the kids, stopped hearing Lucas’ screams, stopped seeing Max in a hospital bed with blood coming from her eyes and eventually, one night, he dreamt of a gate that he’d never seen before. 

It didn’t even really look like a gate. 

Not the ones Steve knew. It wasn’t framed by dead vines, it didn’t pulsate, it didn’t have a red glow coming from its innards. This one didn’t look like rotting flesh, like a wound in the earth that couldn’t be healed. This one wasn’t at the bottom of a lake, lined with wet moss and cracked rocks, it wasn’t in the Munson trailer nor in the middle of the woods. 

This one opened on a blank wall in Steve’s bedroom, replacing the shelves where his old basketball trophies sat, where he usually left his pile of clothes before falling into bed. In the dream, it started as a crack, a crumbling of plaster and blue plaid wallpaper and Steve watched it open, a yawning thing that split the room and bathed it in light. It was too bright at first, like blinking into a summer sun. And once the white-hot of it cleared from Steve’s eyes, he saw blue skies and he could smell the ocean. 

There were trees he’d never seen before in real life, something out of a movie, tall and green and narrow as they swayed in a breeze he couldn’t really feel from his spot on his bedroom carpet. The buildings were a pinky-peach colour, like clay, with orange slate tiles and there were foundations and statues carved into the walls, water trickling from the mouths of gods and vases that stone faced women held in their marble arms. 

It was like looking at a painting, a canvas between his bed and his old desk, framed with olive branches and large, red fruits that protruded from the gates mouth. 

Pomegranates. 

Steve could smell them, a sweetness that mixed with the ocean air, a kind of freshness that you couldn’t find between the fields and farms that surrounded Hawkins. In the dream, he wanted to move closer but found that he couldn’t, his eyes wide and his bare feet rooted to the spot as he stared at the scene. It felt like a memory the more he looked, the buildings becoming familiar, a baby blue door that looked like somewhere he’d once owned the keys to and the cobbled streets became a well walked way home. 

Then, as if he weren’t supposed to really see it, he spotted something move in an upstairs window. Two houses from the front of the gate, with rusted shutters and white linen curtains, he saw a girl stand between them. 

A pretty girl, with eyes he knew he’d seen before, in a white dress that he was sure he remembered the feeling of. 

The sight of her made Steve’s heart hammer, the dream making him dizzy, the realisation that he knew that girl making the line between unconsciousness and reality a little blurry. He didn’t know her name, or where he knew her from. He didn’t even know where he was looking or why the gate was there. 

But he stared and stared until the girls eyes met his and before he could lift his hand, or even try to speak, there was a crack that seemingly came from the sky - the one above Hawkins or the one inside the gate, he didn’t know - but something flashed, the gate went dark and the rip in his bedroom wall stitched itself back up. 

He woke up feeling like he’d remembered and forgotten something all at once. Like a book he’d read back in middle school, a photo he’d once misplaced, a song he hadn’t heard in years but still remebered some of the words too. 

He knew her. He knew her. 

Steve thought about the girl so much, so often, that it didn’t take him long to think of her, to refer to her, as you. You were someone he’d once known, from a memory or another dream, he wasn't sure. It was the same feeling as watching a movie and seeing a pretty actress on screen, in a different outfit with different hair but knowing her face and wondering what show he’d seen her in before. 

Except with this, there was an aching want that buried itself in his chest at the sight of you, an awful feeling that grew larger each night. And every time his wall cracked open again, it seemed like his ribs did too. A crushing feeling, a yawning expanse inside his body that made room for the way his heart seemed to grow and grow at the sight of you. 

Yearning, that’s what he thought it was. A slow, burning build of it. 

The second night, he dreamt of you in a garden. A sprawling, green lawn with a pond so green-blue it made his eyes hurt. There was an awning beside it, a pergola of sorts made of white stone and it had ivy growing between the pillars, covering the roof and reaching down to trail its flowers in the water below. You were closer than before, than you were in the window, and Steve could see the way your lashes hit your cheeks as you looked down, stitching something that you held in your lap. 

There was a wicker basket beside you, a loaf of fresh bread wrapped in a cloth and he could still smell pomegranates, sweet and tart. There was a space beside you on the blanket, enough room for two but no one else came. 

You were always alone. 

Steve tried to talk to you, to reach out and see if this gate worked like the others, if he could walk through into this other world, this other dimension, but it didn’t work. 

Not yet, anyway. 

You seemed to notice him more on the fifth night, as he watched you walk along the edge of a lake. Your hair was shorter now and your clothes had changed. They look more modern, more like his, the cabins behind you reminiscent of a summer camp, a holiday lodge or something. He could hear music, a song he swore he heard on the radio not too long ago and that night, you watched him back. 

It seemed like you were waiting for someone. And when Steve saw your face light up with a smile, his heart stumbled. You raised your arm, reaching out a hand to the edge of the gate, off to the side as if someone else was in Steve’s walls. He saw another hand reach for yours, larger, definitely male, with a freckle where the thumb joined the palm. 

The jealousy he felt was unmatched, a burning thing that scorched his chest and his throat, hot needles at the back of his mouth. Before the man came into view, the crack in his wall trembled and the gate stitched itself closed once more, leaving plaster dust and flakes of paint on his carpet. 

Apart from the small mess, no one would have ever guessed another world opened up inside of Steve Harrington’s bedroom each night. 

It took him a week and half to notice his hand had a freckle in the same spot. A small beauty mark he’d never really paid attention to before, painted in the space that joined his thumb to his hand. He tried not to read too much into it, tried not to hold onto the hope that maybe it meant something - because none of this made sense, not really. 

They were just dreams. Strange things, brain scrambling things. But it was a welcome reprieve from death and darkness and vines that held onto him too tight. He no longer woke up in a cold sweat, he no longer wished for morning to come, no matter how tired he felt when he opened his eyes. 

Steve wondered if anyone else was experiencing these kinds of dreams. If the rest of the party were getting glimpses of other worlds, other timelines. He wasn’t sure what they were, too scared to ask, too afraid to make everyone else worry. The thought that these dreams could be a trick crossed his mind more than once, a new tactic from Vecna, an infiltration of his sleep that was meant to lull him into some kind of false sense of security. 

Safety - an unknown feeling. 

But everyone else spent their days talking about school and their new bosses, the fair that was coming to town to celebrate the town hall finally being rebuilt. No one mentioned Vecna or dreams or gates or girls they knew from somewhere they couldn’t place. 

So Steve accepted the fact that whatever these dreams were - whatever they meant - they were just for him. Which meant that you were his too. 

Weeks went by with Steve viewing you from the split in his wall, sometimes hearing music, sometimes hearing your muffled voice. Never real words, never loud enough to hear and it didn’t seem like you could hear him either. But Steve watched, enraptured, following you around different parts of the world, new countries and scenes that he could never really place but, oh my god, each one felt like home with you in it. 

Then one night, he saw himself. 

He felt the surge of panic flood him even in his sleep, his body jolting against his bed as he saw the familiar face, staring back at him, nonplussed. He looked a little different, maybe older. His hair was shorter at the back, cropped closer to the nape of his neck but the biggest difference was how happy he looked. 

This Steve, the one in his dream, inside this gate - this Steve from another time, another life - he looked lighter. He didn’t have purple smudges under his eyes, no deep lines settling across his forehead from frowning so much. His clothes were different too, looser, less fitting, the colours more muted. He wore a pair of jeans that looked much more comfortable than his tight Levi’s, a soft burgundy sweater that had the sleeves rolled up. 

Steve didn’t recognise where this dream took place, but he knew it wasn’t Hawkins. America, yeah, the street signs and licence plates on the cars in the street giving that detail away, but he wasn’t too sure where. The buildings were bigger, shinier, more glass than brick but the skies were still blue and it looked peaceful, warm. 

Safe. 

Dream Steve strolled down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, looking back over his shoulder every now and then as if to make sure the real Steve was following him. He walked past storefronts and stopped to pet a dog, a golden retriever who was waiting for his owner outside of a bakery. When he came to a bookstore, Steve could see a large building in the distance, a huge billboard atop it that looked like it was advertising a new movie, or a show maybe. It didn’t have much details on it, no actors nor dates to tell what year this was supposed to be. 

Certainly not 1988. 

It only had lettering across it, big and bold and red against a pristine white background: “ANOTHER LIFE.”

The bell to the bookstore jingled and then Steve saw you. As pretty as you had been in every other gate, every other world, every other lifetime. Like a figurine inside a snow globe, like something from a fairytale. Steve had never seen you this close before. 

He watched your smile, the way it widened at the sight of his counterpart, this other version of him. You were so pretty that his breath got caught in his lungs, his sleeping body kicking out in shock when you lunged at the dream version of him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in greeting. 

Steve watched the two figures embrace on the street, he watched how this luckier man got to bring his hand to your cheek and hold to there to kiss, how his lips - Steve’s own lips - met your own and parted them, mouths melting together in something that was so much more than a quick hello. 

Steve didn’t have it in him to feel jealous then. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He watched the hand that held your jaw, the thumb that caressed your cheekbone as you grinned into him, your own hands clutching his waist now. There was a freckle, the same as the one he had on his own hand, in the matching spot on yours. This Steve took that hand and kissed that very mark, smacking kisses across your palm and up your wrist until you were laughing, head thrown back, eyes bright. 

Steve hadn’t seen anything so happy. 

He woke up before the dream finished, before the gate closed. Steve woke up with tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurry in the navy gloom of his bedroom. It wasn’t yet morning. There was no gate on his bedroom fall, no new city between the plaid striped wallpaper. 

He thought it could’ve been Chicago, maybe New York. Perhaps Philadelphia. 

He wondered if he left and went looking for that bookstore, that street, that billboard, he’d find you too. If he was supposed to, if you were real, if this life was all he was supposed to get. 

Something told him otherwise, that open crack inside his chest that made him ache for hours after he awoke. He never forgot about you during the day, each life he’d watched you live, how you had grown your hair out and then cut it, how you seemed to change your clothing depending on where you were, from old petticoats to jeans and shirts with logos on them he’d never seen before. 

Steve felt like he’d lived a thousand lives with you. 

He wasn’t sure what he had to do to get you in this one. 

After two weeks of dreaming of this life with you, one that he was so sure would happen, he spoke to Joyce. He waited until the kids dragged Hopper out into the yard to help them with some sort of rocket they wanted to make and he found her in the kitchen. It was the closest kind of feeling he had to home - bar from the sight of you, but he wasn’t really sure if that counted when he was asleep. 

So he tried to sound casual when he leaned over the Byers kitchen counter, elbows avoiding the jelly stains that Mike had left after making a sandwich, and asked, “hey, uh, do you believe in soulmates?”

Joyce blinked at him, flour and butter between her fingers as she tried to turn the page in her recipe book back to the instructions for apple pie. The book flopped shut when she let go, her hands reaching for a rag instead. Her eyes never left Steve’s. 

“Uh, well. I guess so,” she paused, head tilted to the side as she watched the younger man, how his cheeks turned pink and his gaze fell to the floor. “I haven’t thought about it all that much. Why’d you ask?”

Steve didn’t know what to say then. So he floundered, flushed in the face and nose scrunched as he ran his fingers through his hair too harshly, hoping that no one else walked in. What was he supposed to say? That he was dreaming of gates in his bedroom walls? But it was okay? ‘Cause these ones didn’t have monsters or creatures set out to kill him, no, these gates held something that he thought he’d once had, that they held something he was so sure he was supposed ot have again?

Maybe, just not in this life.

Maybe, this time, something was broken. Wires were crossed, cut, unravelled. Maybe the upside down messed up a timeline, maybe it ripped apart whatever plan it had originally laid out for Steve Harrington. 

He didn’t know. But he knew it sounded crazy, even in his head.

So he shrugged and said, “no reason.”

And then that night, after Joyce gave him funny looks over the dinner she served him and the rest of his friends, the kitchen table full, he went home and lay on his bed, hardly bothering to pull the sheets over his bare chest.

He counted his breaths, hoped for sleep and wished for you.

Like always, his room grew darker, his lids heavier and the crack in his bedroom wall crumbled and split until the dust settled and he saw your face. You were alone this time, pretty as ever and in the same looking city he’d last seen himself in. The skies were blue behind you, the buildings still tall and shiny looking, all glass window panes and metal framework. If he concentrated enough, he could smell summer.

Hot tarmac and sunscreen, fresh fruit from one of the stores behind you, tart lemons and freshly ground coffee. 

You were looking right at him and even in his sleep, Steve smiled. Your eyes were pretty, too pretty, the colour bright and your gaze excited as you gazed at him. Like you’d been waiting. You held out a hand, coaxing, kind, soft, patient. And for the first time, when Steve reached out too, his hand slipped through the gate. 

He was right, about the season, about it being summer. The air inside this world was warm on his skin, like the sun was on him despite being sprawled out in the blue gloom of his dark bedroom. It felt like a July morning, right before the heat hit. 

He was almost touching your fingers when he woke up alone again.

[oneforthemunny]

hard learning |dom!steddie x sub!reader|

prompt: eddie and steve find out you've been lying to them. they're less than impressed with you.

contains:  MINORS DNI 18+ ABSOLUTELY DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE NOT 18+!!!!! poly relationship (throuple), steve x eddie x reader, dom!eddie, dom!steve, sub!reader, language, mentions of dom/sub themes, spanking, degrading, mean dom!steddie, gagging, oral fem receiving, double penetration, aftercare

Steve walked through the front door of the small home, shoulders slumped and rounded with defeat of the day. He hated midterm week, hated the week after it even more. When the college kids scrambled in to cram as much studying as they could, spilling over books and notes, scouring for the supplied they needed to pass the classes so they could enjoy their spring break. It made Steve crazy.

Waldenbooks was buzzing, sales had been great so his boss would be happy, but his employees- most college students themselves- had requested off for spring break, leaving Steve short staffed and running the store.

He could hear your giggle from the hallway, floating towards him like a soothing melody, eyes fluttering shut at the sound. You'd chose to stay home for spring break, to stay with him and Eddie. Your junior year (the second time around) was spent having lazy days in bed with the boys, savoring the moments with them before they went to work, sweet kisses and quiet moans spilled between crumpled bed sheets.

You'd sucked Steve off that morning in the bathroom while he brushed his teeth. He didn't even ask you to. You just followed him in, dropping to your knees on the fluffy bath mat with a sleepy smile. "Missed you, Stevie," You hummed, nuzzling into the soft skin of his tummy, warm with sleep, soft lips trailing kisses down to his boxers.

You didn't ask, and Eddie would have corrected you. Yanked you back by your hair, bending you over the sink to spank you until you were crying, promising you learned your lesson. But Steve couldn't bring himself to do it, not when you were so sweet, and you were making him feel so good.

Steve rounded the corner into the living room, watching you reach on your tip toes to dust the top of the shelf. You were a good girl like that, keeping the house tidy for them. They'd given you chores, of course, tasks for you to complete for rewards or punishment if you didn't, but they didn't have to. You'd do it for them regardless,

Eddie's boom box sat on the table, cranked to a pop radio station that hummed softly, filling the space with the bubbly music you liked. You wiggled your hips to the beat, unaware of Steve's presence behind you until you turned, a squeal of surprise leaving your lips.

"Steve!" You gasped, holding the duster to your chest. "You scared me!" You shrilled, eyes bulging at him.

Steve grinned. "Sorry, angel, didn't mean to scare ya." He reached for the buttons of his top, popping the buttons free down his chest.

You blushed gently, biting your bottom lip while you swayed, eyeing him hungrily. Steve bit back a grin. Of course you were pent up, here all alone after this morning, poor girl.

Turning the dial to the radio down, you set the duster down, sauntering over to Steve. "D'ya have a good day?" You chirped, finishing off the last few buttons.

Steve watched your manicured fingers undo the last of the buttons, pulling the tail of the shirt out of his work slacks slowly. "Pretty good." Steve hummed. "Can't wait for this week to be over and my workers come back. Maybe I can actually have a day off next week."

You sighed sympathetically, pouting up at him. "I'm sorry, Stevie." Sliding your hands down to his belt, innocent enough, you undoing his belt like that, yet Steve throbbed behind his zipper.

"Maybe I can help you relax?" You suggested, tilting your head to the side. "Ed's supposed to be home in a few so we can," You let your hands trail, featherlight fingertips trialing to brush over his bulge. "Play, a little later." You grinned wickedly, a devious little smile that had Steve's chest constricting.

"Fuck," Steve groaned, watching you play him lightly over his pants. "You're not supposed to be-fuck- touching us without permission, are you?" He furrowed his brows sternly down at you, faltering a little when you squeezed him, just lightly enough to have him groaning.

"But I'm just trying to make you feel better, Stevie." You pouted, rolling your palm over the rough cotton of his dark pants. "Just trying to be good for you. Make you feel good."

Steve's breathing stuttered, willing himself to pull your hand back despite his sense screaming at him. "Thank you, baby, that did feel good, but," Steve gave your hand a tight squeeze when you huffed, brows lifting in warning. "Let's wait for Ed. You know he'll be sad if we start without him."

Your bottom lip juts out a little further, but you nod, stepping back from Steve so he could walk towards the bedroom. "Did you get everything done?" Steve asked, looking over his shoulder, hard sole loafers clacking against the hardwood down the hall.

You drooled, eyes trained on the shiny shoes. You remembered when Steve first got them, only a few weeks ago. You'd been bratty that day, huffy and irritated while shopping. Steve had hauled you out of the shoe store, spanking you with the loafer in the car. It had stung something awful, and the following spanking with Eddie's paddle had been miserable, yet you ached at the thought, panties embarrassingly wet at the memory.

"Mmhmm," You hummed, swallowing the drool that pooled in your mouth at the thought. "I have our laundry washing right now. Just have to finish up the towels. The dryer is taking a while to dry again."

Steve sighed in response. "Tell Eddie when he gets home. He'll have to look at it again." As if on cue, the front door closed. You perked up, grinning at the sound of the other man, your other lover. Steve smirked. "Speak of the fuckin' devil."

Eddie's heavy boots carried down the hallway and you grinned, peeking around to greet him. "Hi, baby," Eddie cooed.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a sweet kiss. He was still in his little work badge. He found it demeaning, embarrassing, but you thought he looked positively delicious in it. Eddie worked down at a local music instrument shop, the specialist in all things guitar related. With the grunge, punk rock wave that was creeping through the music world, everyone wanted an electric guitar. Lucky for Eddie. He sold, tuned, and even repaired and gave lessons on the side for some extra cash. The only downside was the badge- rather a plaque that was bigger than an index card- that all employees had to wear on their chest. A cheesy, oversized, cartoony music note with the stores name on it that Eddie cringed at every time he put it on.

"Hi," You chirped, pulling back, eyes shining at him. "Missed you."

Eddie smirked, pecking your pouting lips. "Missed you." He sighed, walking towards the bedroom with you hanging off his waist. "Have a good day?"

You nodded, looking over at Steve, shirtless in his boxers, rummaging through his drawers for more comfortable clothes. "Did you?" You asked, dazed, zoned in at the sight of Steve's hairy chest.

Eddie snorted lightly, shaking his head. "Pretty good." He reached beneath his shirt to take off the badge attached. "You got something in the mail, baby. Laid it by the stove. Something from school."

You froze, eyes widening slightly. It was your midterm grades, shit. They weren't supposed to send those until after Spring Break, those fuckers. Steve's brow raised, looking up at you skeptically. "What is it?"

"I don't know!" You squeaked, quick and defensive. You cringed slightly at the boys' furrowed brows. "I'll go check. Be right back." You smiled sweetly towards them, scampering towards the kitchen.

Eddie looked at Steve, brow raised wordlessly, skeptically towards each other.

You cursed under your breath, sorting through the bills, magazines, ads, until you saw it. Your name printed across it with the University's crest in the corner. White knuckled grip on the envelope, you folded it up tight, balling it in your fist. You knew the boys would check the trash, so you opted to get to the guest bathroom down the hall, shove it in the box of tampons until you could dispose of it when they're not home.

You turned down the hall, hand hidden behind your back. You stepped towards the opposite hall, barely making it past the doorframe. "What was it, baby?" Steve asked, arms crossed over his broad chest.

You cringed, stopping in the hall. You peeked around the corned, body hidden by the wall. Steve looked at you expectantly. "Nothing!" You chirped. "It was just something about my financial aid."

Steve lifted a brow. "Where are you going?" He asked. Eddie joined him, looking at you over his shoulder, tugging a t-shirt over his head.

You felt your heart thump hard in your chest. "I have to pee." You said simply.

Eddie raised a brow suspiciously. Steve scoffed lightly, eyeing you skeptically. "So come in here?" He raised a brow, that obvious tone that made your cheeks burn.

Eddie's eyes narrowed at you. "Yeah, baby," He said smoothly, eerily calm. "Come in here."

You stuttered, eyes flashing from the bathroom back to the boys. You halfway contemplated making a run for the bathroom, but you knew that would only make your punishment worse.

Feet dragging towards the boys, you kept your hands behind your back, fist balled with the folded letter, cheeks red under their watchful gaze. "Excuse me." You muttered, politely, trying to push back the two figures crowding the door. They didn't budge. "Excuse me." You huffed, gritted teeth and annoyed.

"Look at me." Eddie barked, commanding and mean.

You blistered under his gaze, slowly lifting your eyes up to him. "Eddie, stop being mean." You whined, foot stomping on the ground. "I have to pee, let me through-"

"What are you hiding?" Eddie asked, nodding towards you.

Your spine straightened, palms sweating around the folded paper. "Nothing." You said quickly.

Steve rolled his eyes with an unimpressed snort. "Right." He scoffed sarcastically. Your cheeks burned, eyes narrowing in retaliation. "Show me what you've got in your hand."

"I don't have anything in my hand, Steve." You snapped. "Let me pee or I'm going to the other bathroom."

Eddie reached out for you, eyes widening in shock when you pivoted, jumping back out of his grasp. You met his eyes, yours rounded slightly, while Steve's bounced between the two of you, a little apprehensive at what Eddie might do. He was always the stricter one, the meaner one. You didn't disobey him often, sure that he'd make you sorry for it if you did.

Eddie gawked, tongue rolling down the side of his cheek. He looked over at Steve, nodding slightly towards you. You froze just before both men seized for you. "No!" You screeched, turning to run down the hall, but they caught you easily, each by the arm, holding you firmly.

Your first stayed clenched against the letter, wriggling and fighting in their grasp. "Stop it! Let me go!" You shrilled, pulling each of your arms.

"What's she got, Stevie?" Eddie asked, strong hands pinning your arm down, pivoting you body so your arm was trapped against him. His free hand went to steady your flailing limb, locking on your elbow. Normally, you'd love being manhandled by them, especially with the way the veins in their arms were throbbing prominent. It was enough to make your mouth water, even if you were about to be facing a harsh punishment.

You wiggled and fought, white knuckled fist gripping the letter. Steve wrenched your hand open, peeling your fingers open until he could fish the wadded letter out. He cried out triumphantly, holding it above his head, away from your hands. Eddie pulled you in tight to his chest, arms pinning your own down while you writhed against him, desperate to get free.

"What is it?" Eddie snapped, grip tightening with ever squirm and wiggle you gave.

Steve ripped the envelop open easily, eyes scanning over the crinkled paper. "No!" You cried out, lip wobbling already. "That's mine! Not yours! Give it back, Steve, it's not funny!" You knew it sounded juvenile, but you didn't care. You were desperate to get it back before he saw it. Before he saw the D you had in your Literature class.

The boys were strict with you and your school work, adamant that you do all your work so you were on track to graduate. You'd been mostly good, but the literature class was so draining. So much reading and analyzing, and sure, you'd missed a few assignments, but they didn't need to know that.

Steve's eyes flashed over to you. You stilled in Eddie's arms, cowering slightly under his glare. "What is it?" Eddie asked, looking from you back to Steve.

Steve's lips pressed together. "You want to tell him, or should I?"

You whimpered in response, deciding to try and wiggle free since Eddie's grip had loosened. He tightened his hold back on you, looking over at the letter that Steve held out. You could feel him tense, jaw tightening.

Eddie's hands were tight on your forearm, pulling you so he could see your face. More importantly so you should see him, stern and upset, dark eyes pooling with disappointment. "You have a D?" He asked. You shrunk slightly.

"How did you even get a D?" Steve asked, hands on his hips, glaring back at you. "We check your calendar every night and you-" Steve paused, face dropping. "Did you purposely not write down your assignments?" You looked down, silently.

Steve stomped over, hands grabbing your chin firmly, lifting it to meet his angry amber eyes. "I asked you a question."

"Yes." You sniffled, bottom lip already wobbling. "I just... I didn't want to do it all right then. I have so much other stuff to do and-and it was just one-"

"Stop." Steve snapped, shaking his head at you. "Don't you dare lie to me. I'm not stupid, baby, I know this was more than one assignment."

Eddie's eyes flashed down in disappointment at you, appalled by your boldness. Your face dropped, looking down at your feet. "'M sorry, Stevie." You whispered.

Eddie hummed, exhaling slowly while he looked over at Steve. "That's extremely disappointing." He shook his head slowly, taunting.

"I'm sorry." You croaked, teary eyed looking up at him, your sweetest, subbiest eyes, desperate to have him soften towards you.

"No," Eddie shook his head, free hand moving to pinch your cheek between his thumb and pointer finger. "But you will be." You whimpered, the small pat against your cheek a foreshadowing, taunting you with what's to come.

"What happens when you break our rules?" Eddie asked, eyes dark and peering into yours.

Your lips quivered. "Get punished." You muttered, cheeks blooming with heat.

Steve's hand knotted through the back of your hair, tugging your head back sharply. "Speak up." He snapped.

You whined at the pain. "I get punished, sirs." You huffed, you couldn't help the pout on your lips, not when they were being so mean with you.

Eddie looked at Steve, head bobbing just barely so he'd release his grip. Eddie loosened his grasp he had around you, catching your chin before you could fully relax at the released pressure.

"I want you kneeling in front of the bed waiting for us. You know how we want you." Eddie commanded.

You nodded obediently, his grip releasing your chin. You stepped towards the hall. "Nuh-uh." Steve snapped, eyes narrowing down at you. "Crawl. You know better."

You flushed at his chastisement, slowly sinking to your knees. The wood was hard against your joints, but you knew better than to complain; knew you'd be complaining about much more in a while.

Hands and knees dragging slow against the wood, you yelped at Eddie's palm cracking hard against your ass when you passed him. You desperately wanted to rub the sting, but you knew he'd tie you up if you did. On second thought, he'd probably do that anyways.

You shuddered, slowly shedding your clothes, tossing them in the dirty clothes hamper. The shushed tones of the boys outside made you shiver with anticipation, unsure and anxious at their plan for you. Sinking back down on the floor, facing the bed, spine long, palms resting on your thighs you waited. Straining to hear their conversation, but keeping your head straight.

Their synced footsteps started towards you, making your spine shoot with electricity. You started ahead, eyes trained on the bed post. You could see them, on either side of you in your peripheral.

"I'm giving you one chance." Steve said sternly, the letter still in his hand. "Tell me how many assignments you missed."

You opened your mouth to retaliate, Eddie stopping you. "You better be truthful." He warned. "It tells us on here, and if you lie to me, I'll go get my cane."

You shuddered at the threat. There was nothing you hated more on earth than the cane. They both knew that, only bringing it out when you really needed to be punished. The looming threat alone was enough to make you shape up.

You swallowed hard, lips pressing together, nails biting into the skin of your thighs. "T-Three, sir." You muttered.

Steve's brow lifted. "You sure about that?" He challenged, making your heart race.

You thought for a moment, brain wracking and filtering through the assignments. "I-I'm sure." You nodded. "Three. Two analysis and a quiz."

Eddie tsked, head shaking in disappointment. "Two analysis and a quiz." He mocked back at you. You pressed your lips together to keep the cry swelling in your chest down. "Can you believe that Stevie?"

"I can't." Steve pressed his lips together, shaking his head at you. "I would've thought our girl knew better."

"Me too." Eddie nodded, a heavy, exaggerated sigh leaving his lips. "And here I was thinking I was gonna get to be sweet to you tonight, baby." Eddie cooed, hand running down your hair. You tensed under his touch, senses heightened with every slow drag of his hand, anticipating the next move.

"You've been so good lately and now I see why," Eddie taunted, circling you like a shark to it's prey, all sharp teeth and an even sharper gaze. You kept your eyes forward, hands on your knees, clenching so you wouldn't shudder. "You've been trying to sweeten us up, haven't you?"

"She has." Steve nodded, arms crossing to stand in front of Eddie. "Been playing us all this time, hasn't she?"

Eddie hummed. "So you are smart then?" He tilted his head to the side. He could see you tense, eyes scanning you carefully. Though a punishment, you were still playing, he didn't want to overstep. The verbal humiliation and degrading was new, something the three of you were trying out.

"She's very smart." Steve cooed, and it made your heart swell. Hearing how genuine it sounded, how sweet and sincere.

Eddie's hand petted your hair gently. "I know she is." Eddie smirked, pushing strands of hair behind your ear. "You just make dumb decisions, don't you?"

His hand kept petting your locks, hand moving down to the ends of your hair. You gasped when Eddie tugged them without warning, pulling your head to tilt back and look at him. "I asked you a question, brat."

"Yes, Daddy." You whimpered. Eddie lifted a brow, eye narrowing at you in warning, it wasn't the answer he wanted and you knew that. You knew better than to try and sweeten him with his beloved title. "Yes, sir." You muttered, lip jutting.

Eddie released your hair, walking towards his closet. You so desperately wanted to look, but kept your eyes trained on the bed. You could feel Steve watching you, ensuring your eyes didn't wander while they picked out your punishment, decided your fate.

"Hmm, Stevie, what do you think?" Eddie asked, rummaging through the space. "How should we handle a liar?"

"I think you should get her gag out. The metal one." Steve grinned, malicious and scheming.

You wanted to whine, groan, cry, and beg them not to all at once. You loathed the metal gag; any gag at all, really. The metal one, a small metal circle on a leather strap, always hurt your mouth, stretching your mouth open uncomfortably and leaving you drooling. Not to mention the boys would purposely ask you questions so you'd wobble around your words, trying to form sentences with the uncomfortable intrusion, just so they could smack you and tell you to speak up.

"Hm, good idea, Stevie." Eddie grinned proudly back at him. His little apprentice, learning so quickly. "If you can't tell the truth, then you don't need to say anything at all, isn't that right?"

You bit back a pout, teething grinding while you stayed looking forward. Steve's backhand yanked you out of your daze, startling you out of your trance. It wasn't hard so much as shocking, but it had you quivering between your thighs.

"Did Eddie ask you a question?" Steve barked, hand gripping your jaw, squeezing your cheeks lightly while you faced him.

"Yes, sir." You took a deep breath, grounding yourself, keeping your cry in. You couldn't cry this early on, not giving them the satisfaction of that.

"Just go ahead and gag her, Eddie. She doesn't want to talk anyways." Steve scoffed, shaking his head down in disappointment at you. Your lip quivered. "She doesn't want to be a good girl."

"I do!" You whined, head snapping over towards Steve. He raised his brows, amused by your sudden whining, finally playing into your bratty side- the side he loved so much.

"I am being good! I'm not supposed to talk when you're punishing me." You huffed, reciting the rules they gave you months ago, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. The pout was enough, you were teetering into dangerous territory and you knew that.

"Oh?" Eddie's voice quipped, playful nearly. "You're a good girl?"

You deflated under his squinted stare, challenging. You knew he'd admonish you for the midterm, but that wasn't fair. You decided you'd let him know that. "'M being good right now." You mumbled, eyes flickering towards your knees.

"Yeah, when you want to be good." Eddie scoffed. "And you're supposed to be good all the time. Not just when you want."

You blushed deep with embarrassment, heat rising from your core to your cheeks. You were sure the boys could see your embarrassment flushing your body, exposed and vulnerable in front of them. You knew they loved it, you could tell by the bulge in Steve's sweatpants that he hadn't done anything to hide. Your mouth watered at the thought, wanting more than anything to have your cheeks hollowed around him again.

"Get the gag." Steve nodded down towards you. You huffed but didn't dare whine.

Your posture was slouched, pouting and sulking at the unfairness of it all. These two hypocrites, they didn't even go to college and they were so strict with you about your own school work. They didn't know how draining and time consuming it was.

"Straighten up. Stop all that fuckin' whining, or I'll really give you a reason to." Eddie snapped at you. You blew a short breath out your nose, lifting your spine.

Eddie watched you down the slope of his nose, eyes hard and challenging. Your tummy flipped at the sight. He crouched down in front of you, free hand grabbing your chin, turning you to face him, examining your features.

"Color." Eddie demanded, voice still stern but eyes softening to read your expression.

"Green." Your voice had an edge to it, biting and a little mean, eyes avoiding his. Eddie gripped your chin, pulling you to meet his face. His brows lifted in question, serious. For all his meanness and strictness, he was even more strict about the check ins and safe words.

You met his eyes, huffing just a little. "Green, Eddie, 'm fine." You insisted.

"You sure?" Eddie asked in a low voice, grip loosening on your chin. "Let me know now before we start."

"I'm fine, promise." You gave him a small smile.

"And if you're not?"

"I'll say black for hard stop, yellow to ease up, and squeeze three times if I need to stop." You droned the reciting back at him. You knew it made him feel better, knowing that you knew how to stop if you needed to. As confident as he was, he always worried about taking it to far with you, especially with punishments.

Eddie gave you a tiny grin, pecking your cheek sweetly. "Good girl." You beamed at the praise, the corners of your mouth flicking up just barely.

"See, knew you could be a good girl when you want." Eddie's salacious grin was back, a little taunting and mean. "Gotta teach you to be good all the time."

You saw him reach for his back pocket, eyes widening in anticipation. You knew the dreaded gag was in there, stretching your cheeks slightly in preparation for the discomfort that was coming.

"Open, wide." Eddie snapped.

You unhinged your jaw, mouth presented wide for him. He presented you with the gag, but not the metal one. To your surprise, he held the one with the red, rubber ball in the mouth piece instead. Your heart skipped in relief, letting the rubber settle between your teeth while Eddie fastened the strap around your head.

"Ah, Ed, are you going soft on us?" Steve teased with a snicker.

"Shut up, Harrington." Eddie snarled. "I figured for what she has coming, the rubber would be better. Don't want her breaking those pretty teeth out when she bites down."

Ice ran through your veins, a cold chill that made your shoulders shiver at the thought. You thought maybe they might go easy on you, you were wrong.

"Ah, good call." Steve nodded slowly. "Daddy's a lot nicer than me isn't he, baby?"

You gave a short nod, trying to swallow around the gag already, drool pooling inside your mouth.

"Aw, wasn't that sweet?" Steve sneered, taunting you. He crouched down beside you. "I wonder if you'll still think that in a little bit, baby." His hand was in your hair, pulling you up to stand, before dragging you harshly over the edge of the bed.

You landed with an oomph! bent over the bed, shuffling to spread your legs. Eddie bit back a remark of praise, eyes cutting to Steve. "Where do those hands go?" Steve barked.

You quickly extended them out in front of you, back elongating into a long stretch, ass presented high and legs spread. A vision of submission on their bed, Eddie and Steve wanted to bust right there at the sight.

"Harrington," Eddie called in a sing-song voice, playful and excited. Your eyes squeezed shut. "Do you want the honors first?"

"Oh no, Eddie, I insist." Steve responded just as playfully, he sat on the bed in front of you, taking your wrists into his hands, pinning them tight.

It was comfier than the ropes or cuffs, but more embarrassing this way. Now Steve would watch you, command your eyes on him while Eddie punished you, reveling in every sob and cry. His favorite show.

"What did you pick, Ed?" Steve asked, eyes lighting up at the reveal behind you. You didn't dare look back, eyes on Steve's face. "Oh, Daddy's really mad at you. You bad, bad girl." 

You whined behind the gag, desperately. You knew you'd fucked up with the assignments, but you didn't think they'd be this mad with you.

"You know I don't like liars, Stevie."  Eddie snipped. Then you felt it, the cool leather behind you, rubbing on the naked skin of your ass and thighs.

You wanted to groan, whine and stomp your feet in protest. He went with the paddle, of course he went with the paddle. It was worse than the belt, heavier and covered a bigger area, sure to leave you covered in welts and tender for days to come.

"Oh, I know you don't." Steve grinned, eyes cutting down at you. His grip on your wrist tightened, seeing your wide, rounded eyes shining up at him, gag lodged in your pretty mouth. His cock lurched at the sight.

"I don't like it when my little, good girl," Eddie brought the paddle down unexpectedly, no warning or warm up, just a resounding crack that echoed off the walls. You lurched forward, a muffled gasp behind the gag. "Acts so bad." Eddie swung his arms back, paddle connecting with the meat of your ass.

Your hips jumped at the impact, a blossoming pink that slowly faded into red with each hit. You were bouncing, dancing from foot to foot with each slow hit.

"You lied to me and Steve about your school work," Eddie grunted, hitting where your cheeks met your thighs. You howled behind the gag, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Steve gripped your hands tightly, watching you closely. "Eyes on me." Steve snapped. You lifted your gaze, bleary through tears to meet his.

"You've ruined your grade," Eddie continued, two hard successions of the paddle, each covering each cheek in a stinging, sharp hit that had you crying.

"You disrespect me and Steve," You sobbed, snot and tears leaking down your cheeks, pooling to meet the drool that dripped out of your mouth and gathered at your chin.

"And worse of all," Eddie brought the paddle down hard, leaving you screeching, back arching and wrists tugging at Steve's hands to recoil in a deep child's pose, a submissive, defensive stance. Steve's grip tightened, and you were sure there would be bruises.

"You disrespected yourself." Eddie snapped, the paddle came down hard again. It hurt, stung, made you sob and ache, but somehow, Eddie's words- his disappointed tone, hurt and sad, hurt you worse.

You sobbed hard, shoulders shaking and posture slouching, caving into yourself. Steve felt your wrists fall limp in his hands, face buried into the mattress. He loosened his grip, looking up at Eddie carefully. Eddie rolled the paddle over in his hands, watching you carefully. Steve could tell he was contemplating finishing out, neither one of them expected you to break this early.

"I'm not going to have you hurt yourself like this." Eddie continued after a moment, bringing the paddle back down against your red cheeks, softer this time. You still jumped, sobbing into the duvet. "You do your school work and your assignments. You know you're supposed to."

"'M sowry." You blubbered through the gag, drool spilling out with the fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Speak up." Eddie snapped, his hand cracking down on your hot flesh. "Get your head up."

You lifted your face out of the mattress, eyes meeting Steve's through your wet vision. "'M s-sorry." You tried again, the gag making it awkward and muffled.

Steve cooed down at you, wiping a tear away with the pad of his thumb. "Aw, c'mon, Ed," He tutted down at you. "She's sorry, aren't you?"

You nodded fiercely, before resting your cheek back onto the mattress, looking over your shoulder back at Eddie. He stood, arms crossed over his chest with his paddle still in hand, staring down at you. You clenched around nothing. Fuck, he looked so good when he was angry, so mean and controlling; such a contrast to his normal light hearted, sweet personality.

Eddie hummed, hand lightly skating over your hot flesh, squeezing the fat of your reddened cheeks gently. "You gonna do your school work?" He asked. You nodded fiercely. "You gonna lie to me or Steve again?" Your head bobbed.

"Good." Eddie nodded. You felt his fingers move lower, swiping between your legs. You whined, wiggling back onto his fingers desperately for friction. Eddie smirked, looking up at Steve. "Good girl." He cooed.

"You are so good aren't you?" Steve mumbled to you. He let go of your hands, placing them on either side of your face sweetly, pulling you closer to him. His nose nearly touched yours, grinning at you, ruined and desperate between his hands. "So good when you want to be. So sweet, too."

Eddie hummed, pulling his fingers out of you and into his mouth, eyes closing and groaning loud, the tangy taste of your spend on his fingers. "Mmm, so good. Fuck." Eddie's eyes zoned in on your pussy, needy and wet.

It took every ounce of restraint he had not to dive into you, devour that beautiful pussy until you were screaming out for more. But he couldn't, not this time. He'd brought the pain, and it was Steve's turn to bring you pleasure; a reward for taking your punishment so well. Eddie couldn't deprive him of that.

Eddie's eyes met Steve's, nodding that they should switch places. Steve swung his legs off the bed, allowing you a moment to collapse, sniffle into the comfort of the duvet. Eddie caught your face before you could relax fully, kneeling on the mattress and cupping your jaw in one hand, free hand undoing your gag. He pulled the ball out of your mouth, the sting of drool attached from your mouth to the ball spilling and pooling on the mattress, wet matter mixing with your tears.

"How are you feeling?" Eddie asked, dark eyes scanning over your features, a silent check in. His grip was still on your jaw, fingers massaging your cheeks gently after the removal of the gag. Your heart swelled at the gesture.

"Good." You sniffled, eyes lifting up to him, rounded and watery. Eddie tilted his head to the side, brows furrowed sternly at you. You gave him a soft smile. "Still green."

"Look at you." Eddie cooed, a dimpled grin spreading over his features and warming you from the inside out. "My best girl, aren't you?"

Eddie was good like this. Good about making you feel better after your punishments, letting you know it's all still play. Sometimes it was easy to feel real about them, feel like that was their true feelings towards you. Steve was still learning to get out of that headspace, still a little unsure of when he let himself slowly fade. Sometimes, it was too early, interrupting the scene, others too far after. Thankfully, for the three of you, you had Eddie- the ever "seasoned veteran of kinky shit" as he liked to call himself.

"Fuck, baby," Steve groaned, harshly gripping your hot ass cheeks, pulling them apart. "You're drenched aren't you?"

You blushed, letting your face fall towards your arms, an attempt at hiding your embarrassment. Eddie caught your face easily, firm grip on your chin. "Did Steve not just ask you a question?" He tilted his head to the side in challenge.

"Yes, sir." You muttered, heat blooming down your neck from your cheeks, you knew your chest would be showing now.

"Not really a punishment if you enjoyed it, now is it, Princess?" Steve grinned.

You gasped before you could reply, his thick fingers pushing straight into your sopping hole, adding another and scissoring your walls, spreading them open gently. Your mouth water, hips writing against his fingers because you knew what that meant. He was opening you up, getting you ready so he could stuff you full of his cock.

"It was." You whined, bottom lip jutting out, eyes flitting up to Eddie. "I promise it was a good punishment. I learned my lesson, Daddy."

Eddie's face melted, eyes crinkling when he grinned at you. "Oh, honey," He cooed, leaning down so his nose brushed yours. You purred, nuzzling against him sweetly "You're not done yet."

Your heart dropped, face following with it, while Eddie rolled off the bed. Steve snickered behind you, amber eyes flashing with excitement, tracking Eddie's movements towards the bedside drawer.

"But I-"

"You didn't think you'd get off that easy, did you?" Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side, shaking his curls at you dumbly. Your face burned. "Steve, she really thought that was it?" He mocked you.

Steve's fingers were still working inside you, opening you up. "Surely, you're smarter than that." Steve snipped. "I mean, baby, c'mon, Ed would've at least used the cane if the spanking was it."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, bottom lip trembling. "At least." Eddie parroted with a smirk. He turned around and your heart skipped, seeing the bottle of lube in your hand. Fuck.

Eddie popped the cap open to the lube, slowly walking towards you. You looked over your shoulder, neck straining at the stretch. "I told you baby," Eddie said calmly. "That ass is mine tonight."

You gulped, hearing Steve's mocking chuckles, his fingers jamming deep inside you, making you gasp at the curl. You tried to focus on how he was making you feel, instead of Eddie's thick thumb that was circling your rear hole.

It wasn't that you didn't like anal, or didn't do it often; you were in a throuple for fucksake, of course anal came with the territory. You were use to the boys filling you up, if your mouth wasn't occupying one of their dicks, your ass was their choice. The issue was, it was always Steve. Steve wasn't small by any means, but less... girth than Eddie's cock and more gentle. Eddie had fucked you up the ass a total of four times, once to try, once for his birthday, and the other two as punishment. He always made sure you were lubed up, ready to take him so it didn't hurt- and it didn't really, besides the usual stretch, it just made you feel... uncomfortably full. When Eddie fucked your ass, he was in your guts, you were sure of it- you could feel it. It was a little invasive, overstimulating.

The cold shock of the lube dripping in a fat glob onto your tightest hole made you shiver, the sensation quickly replaced by Eddie's pointer finger, circling your hole, pressing inward just to the knuckle. You clenched, eyes screwing shut.

A sharp slap to your already stinging cheek pulled you away, leaving you gasping, turning back and pouting over your shoulder. Steve glared at you. "Relax. You know better." He warned, brow lifted carefully at you.

You took a shuddered, regulating breath, rocking back on your heels to try and relax into the touch. Your skin burned with every pull and knead of Eddie or Steve's hand on your inflamed cheeks, making you whimper, toes curling with sensation while Steve expertly punched that sensitive spot within you.

"Hm," Eddie groaned, fingers lazily pumping in and out of you. "Think you should get her good and relaxed, Stevie." Eddie nodded towards you. "Finish her off for me. Before we really get started."

You shuddered at the lingering threat in the air, a foreshadowing of what's to come. You were granted only a moment before Steve's tongue was on your cunt, lapping and suckling at your clit until you let out a strangled gasp. His tongue was quick, fluttering kitten licks to your clit while his fingers fucked you.

Your orgasm was close, fiery and fierce with a rapid approach that left you reeling, abs clenching and walls clamping around Steve's expert fingers before you gushed, flooding over his mouth and hand. He licked you up easily, smirking at every spasming aftershock that followed.

You were panting, gripping the sheets with a white knuckled vigor, chest rising and falling against the warmed cotton of the bed. Eddie grinned, arms crossed over his chest, half lidded eyes watching you with blown pupils.

"Good boy," Eddie grinned down at Steve. "Let me have a taste, fuck." Eddie moaned, leaning over to capture Steve's lips on his before he could wipe your juices off his mouth. Eddie was drunk on your taste, moaning into Steve's lips while their tongues swirled against each other, the tangy taste of you swapping between their lips.

You whimpered, craning your neck back to look over your shoulder, thighs clenching at the sight of the two men, kissing with a passionate fury. Eddie's eyes caught yours, breaking the kiss with a trail of saliva connecting off their lips. He looked down at you carefully, grinning salaciously, teeth bared.

"What do you think, Steve? Have her stand up or have her ride you? Your choice." Eddie offered with a slight nod of his head for you.

"Ooh," Steve laughed, eyebrows raising in delight. "Ya know, Ed, I just really think I want her to ride me." Steve's eyes narrowed in on you. "Because I know how much you love that, baby."

You bit back a huff accompanied with an eye roll that rivaled Steve's best. You didn't enjoy riding them, either one, especially when they double stuffed you like this. You always got weak kneed, legs shaking and struggling to keep up a good pace, almost always collapsing while they finished you out, cooing and mocking at you.

"I think that's a great idea." Eddie grinned, eyes never leaving yours with a wide eyed glare. "Go on then. Get ready to ride, baby."

That's how you found yourself, kneeled with your thighs on either side of Steve's hips, his hands on your waist, legs dangling off the edge of the bed while Eddie pumped himself between them. He watched as you bounced slowly, sinking further and further down onto Steve's cock, adjusting yourself there before he continued.

Eddie squirted the lube back on his fingers, smearing it over his angry cock. "You ready for me?" Eddie asked. You nodded slowly, eyes pinched in pleasure, nails sinking into Steve's shoulders with every slow drag of your hips up and down his cock.

"You remember your safe words?" Eddie asked again, brow lifting carefully. You nodded with a gentle whimper. "Lemme hear them." Eddie demanded, grinning when you repeated them back to him, voice high pitched and nasally; pathetic, how he loved it.

"Good girl." Eddie purred, shuffling closer. He took his free hand, letting it store down your spine gently. "Hold still for me for just a second, alright? Steve, hold her for me."

Steve's arms, thick and strong pulled around your waist, circling you and pressing a palm into the middle of your back, folding you forward so you were sunk against him, still wrapped around his cock but ass leaned forward and presented to Eddie. It had taken the three of you a while to perfect the position.

Eddie pumped himself, circling the rim of your open, tight hole before pushing the head in. You gasped, clenching and spine straightening at the sensation. Steve groaned, low and throaty at the feeling of your clamped walls strangling his cock, arms tightening around you to hold you close, keep you from wiggling while Eddie sunk himself in, slowly, hips rolling and inching closer and closer until you were full of him.

You could barely move, barely lift your hips to continue riding Steve while they double teamed you, too full of sensation and brain a hazy fog that overtook your senses.

"Fuck, what a good girl." Eddie hissed, hips stroking at a much gentler pace than he usually did against you, watching the lube and his own spend gather at the base of your tight hole. His mouth watered, pupils blown at the sight. "Isn't she a good girl?"

"Oh, the best." Steve huffed, breath strangled and trapped in his chest. You were slouched against him, drooling onto his shoulder, eyes glazed while his hips thrusted into yours. At this point, he and Eddie were practically tossing you back and forth with their thrusts, a bounce from one to the other like a teeter-totter.

"She's the best girl. She- oh, baby, right there- feels so, so good." Steve clenched his jaw, hissing at the way his cock was already twitching.

You mewled, shuddering with another wave of ecstasy release with every stoke of their cocks hitting your g-spots. It was overwhelming, leaving you shaking and breaths shuddering, head spinning at the feeling.

"Fuck, Ed, 'm close." Steve hissed, calves rising and flexing to thrust up into you.

"Me too." Eddie muttered, tongue poking out in concentration while he rocked his hips a little faster, a little harder, still holding back from riding you out like he normally did. He didn't want to hurt you.

Steve's hand left your waist, reaching out to join Eddie's on your hips, their thick hands intertwining to lace together while they chased their own highs, spilling into each of your holes with sputtered groans and gasps of air, singing your praises through shuddered breaths.

You were leaking both of them, letting it pool together beneath you on the sheets when they pulled out. Steve held you close, smattering your hair line with kisses and soothing words while Eddie wet a cloth.

"Such a good girl aren't you?" Steve cooed, nose rubbing into your sweaty hair line. "You took that so well, didn't you? You did. My best girl, look at you."

You whined, lightly gripping onto his chests. You felt underwater, removed and lightyears away from the two men in front of you, their doting kisses and sweet words lying over you like a soothing balm.

"She's gone." Steve muttered to Eddie, chest rumbling against your cheek.

"Go get her some water or gatorade." Eddie said, puddle brown eyes furrowed in concern when they looked at you. "Think that'll help. I'll clean her up."

Steve left you, propped on a pillow while you slowly blinked up at Eddie, his wild curls cascading down his face like a curtain over you, tickling your cheeks lightly. "Hi, sweet girl." Eddie cooed lightly. "You alright?"

You nodded vacantly, eyes looking past him and towards the ceiling, pupils blown. "You with me right now, sweetheart? Feel alright?" Eddie asked, brows creasing in concern.

"'M alright." You muttered, airy and breathy response.

Eddie's hand cupped your cheek, calloused thumb brushing over your tear stained cheek bone. "I'm gonna clean you up, ok, baby?" Eddie cooed. "Daddy's got ya, sweet girl. You just relax."

You shuddered, system shocking and screeching with alarm when the cold cloth brushed through your aching folds, swiping and cleaning you up gently. You whimpered loudly in protest, hips squirming away from the rag. Eddie's eyes flickered to yours, relief pulling at his tight chest when he saw your furrowed brow and pouting lips, some expression at least.

"'S alright, baby. I gotcha." Eddie cooed, free hand rubbing your thigh, while he cleaned you delicately.

Steve returned, lifting you up in his arms, pressing the plastic rim of the bottle to your lips, feeding it to you in slow slips. You let them baby you like that, more than content at their sweet, coddling ministrations. Your two mean men that could turn so easily from malicious to caring, for you.

You let them squeeze you between them, lying down on your tummy, hands under the pillow while their hands intertwined and rested on your lower back.

"You gonna do your assignments from now on?" Eddie asked, propped on his side to face you, free hand holding Steve's and the other resting under his head.

You nodded slowly, eyes pulling open before fluttering closed. "I will, Daddy." You muttered, sleepily. "Promise."

"You better." Steve chided, his thumb brushing down your spine, rubbing over your soft skin then Eddie's knuckles. "Or I'll use Daddy's cane on you every night for a week, understand?"

That was enough to get your eyes wretched open, wide eyed and timidly looking up at him. Steve glared at you, challenging and warning all wrapped up in those amber eyes, brow furrowed in a look that told you he was not playing. "I understand." You squeaked, shrinking under his glare.

"I'm sorry for lying." You shuddered, breath hitching in your throat, the swell of tears returning to your chest. "I-I'll talk to my professor about making up the work, and-and I'll make sure to bring home everything, and-"

Eddie shushed you gently, hand running down the locks of your hair, petting them soothingly. "Baby, it's alright. We're good for now." He said calmly. "Just relax. Let yourself rest, ok? I know you're tired."

You sunk back into the pillow slowly, eyes fluttering back shut, succumbing to the overwhelming tiredness that was racking your body. You felt the boys kiss you, pillowy lips on either side of your face muttering gentle words before leaning over you, kissing each other in a wet smooch that had you grinning softly. It was just the three of you for now, in your own little oasis. Two men and their little (sometimes bad, most of the time good) girl.

[chelseeebe]

cold as ice

sooo it’s been a long time coming.. steve’s grand return to my blog!! now i’m not really one for hockey romance or wtv but i saw this one picture on pinterest and it just spurred me on to write this.. whatever this is

18+ mdni! smut. violent themes. eddie is r’s brother though descriptors are not used so take that relationship as you want! steve harrington x female reader. hockey au.

the rink is cool, the clattering sounds of skates and sticks hitting the ice fill the arena.

it’s too early for steve to really give a shit about practice, waiting for the moment he’s allowed to crawl back into bed again.

the arena’s usually empty at this time of the day, not many people were keen to watch them scream at each other over failed passes.

but today, you sit in one of the seats, quietly watching as they warm up.

steve’s still fairly new to the team, only recently drafted, though things were looking a whole lot better if he knew you’d be showing up to practice regularly.

“who’s that?” he nods, sliding up to the small group congregated at edge. he’d just assumed you were somebody’s girlfriend dragged to practice.

“munson’s sister,” jason smiles, thumping him on the back, “don’t even think about it man.. not gonna happen.”

steve’s features crumple, confusion echoing his face, “well why not?”

they laugh, sharing a knowing look between them, a joke he wasn’t in on. tommy steps forward, clapping his hand on his shoulder, pitying almost, “you think we haven’t tried? eddie doesn’t play about her.. i wouldn’t even bother.”

his eyes travel back to your solemn spot in the bleachers, cocking his grin to the side.

he wasn’t one to ignore a challenge, and he certainly wouldn’t be now.

-

lucky for steve, the only reason you’d tagged along to practice was to use the rink after the guys had left. making use of the quiet hour between them practicing and the public flooding in.

he was smart, waiting for eddie to leave before sliding his skates back on, venturing out onto the ice to interrupt your peaceful routine.

“hey,” he calls from across the ice, slowly making his way over without startling you. “what’re you doing?” moving alongside you slowly.

“practicing,” you reply rather bluntly, ignoring him to spin around the cool rink, speeding off into the distance.

steve grits his teeth, just about skating fast enough to catch up, wrapping his arm around your waist and knocking you back into the plexiglass, all in one fell swoop.

“oops,” he smirks, mere inches from your face, “i tripped.”

you smile, a contained, coy grin that you’d hoped wouldn’t boost his ego too much, turning your face away from his.

“i don’t think we’ve met,” laying on the charm thick and heavy, just as he meant to go on, “i’m steve, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“i know who you are,” narrowing your cold eyes, “eddie told me you’re bad news.”

steve’s not shocked, not one bit. eddie hasn’t been particularly welcoming since his arrival, though he’d put it down to new team rituals or whatever.

his throat vibrates, humming his response, “i’m sure he did.”

how rude of eddie not to return the favour and introduce you to him too.

“i’m gonna ask you out,” poking his tongue into his cheek, “and we can either do it the easy way or we can do it the hard way, it’s your choice,” quirking his head to the side.

“steve,” you warn, dropping your gaze.

“so you choose the hard way, that’s fine,” keeping his hand firmly on the plastic, pinning you in place, “what’re you scared of? eddie?” blowing the air out of his mouth, “he’s not gonna know.. don’t worry.”

you hum, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, “he’ll kill you,” jutting your chin out, “i don’t think you want that.”

the words melt off of his tongue, resembling butter and all things sweet, “for you, i’d risk it,” a true smooth talker, knowing exactly what you wanted to hear.

your eyes roll back, dipping your chin, presumably to hide the flush he’d bought to your cheeks. worked every time.

“we can have dinner,” finding enough pride to meet his gaze again, forcing faux reluctance into your tone. he’s aware that it’s all a game, he’s rolled this dice a thousand times and knows exactly how it’ll land.

“tonight,” ordering, not asking, “i’ll pick you up, yeah?”

your lips purse, “fine,” the bright lights shine from your eyes, highlighting the flustered glow of your cheeks, “eight o’clock,” a feeble attempt to gain some control over the moment.

steve gleefully releases you from the makeshift cell he’d held you in, slowly moving backward along the ice, “wear something pretty for me,” flashing his teeth in a over bearing grin, darting off of the rink before anyone had the chance to spot you together.

-

he’s there at eight on the dot, nonchalantly eyeing the door, playing off the excitable beating in his chest.

you don’t emerge until the time on his dash reads 8:09. perhaps another attempt at flipping the ball into your court or maybe you were just late.

steve didn’t mind either way.

he leaps from the chair, making his way around the car before you even got to the road, opening the door with a grin.

“you look great,” he purrs, hanging onto the door as you step inside, lingering inches from his face, cocking your head to the side to thank him before sliding in.

he’s almost vibrating on the drive over, fingers nervously tapping the soft leather wheel, no doubt making himself look insane.

the drive seemed too long now, having chosen a restaurant out of town in fear of prying eyes that would guarantee he would never see you again.

you’re unconcerned with the food, hanging onto his every word, lapping up the barrage of compliments just dripping off his tongue.

“eddie can’t be that bad, can he?” steve asks, completely naive to the lengths your brother would go to keep him away.

you laugh into your glass mid-sip, flashing him a look that can only be taken as a warning. “you don’t get it,” mocking in the way you shake your head, “he’d eat you alive,” a scathing review of what he was getting himself into.

“i think you’d be worth it darlin’,” flashing his teeth in that trademarked steve harrington grin.

but it works, ducking your head behind your glass though it fails to conceal the crinkle by your eyes. a dead giveaway that his syrupy words were working.

“y’think?” emerging from behind the transparent glass.

“i do.”

steve had an abundance of confidence, maybe too much depending on who you asked. but it didn’t half work in his favour.

you were putty in his hands and he hadn’t even finished his spiel yet.

“you talk a lotta shit, steve harrington,” biting the inside of your cheek.

“but you like it, don’t you?”

your mouth twitches, biting at your bottom lip, reluctant to nod but you do anyway. relinquishing any and all last embers of self-respect you were desperately clinging onto.

-

he’s already eager to get you out of the restaurant and back into the passenger seat of his car.

there had been no doubt in his mind that he would win you over. what was a disgruntled older brother to him anyway?

nothing more than a tiny blip that steve could rather easily ignore. especially when you were the reward.

there’s inconsequential chatter on the journey back, words full of nothingness while all his mind can fathom is the feel of your lips against his.

he pulls into the tiny lot in front of your building, though you don’t get out, stewing in the passenger seat, waiting for him to make a move.

so he does.

steve leans over the console, his forefinger and thumb encasing your chin, tilting your face toward his. you take your lip between your teeth, stopping him before he can smash his lips to yours.

“you have to promise me..” you murmur, gazing into his eyes though they remain on your lips, “eddie can’t ever know.”

he hums in anticipation, almost drooling with excitement, “yeah.. i promise,” before moving in to finally touch you.

your finger jabs into his chest, mere millimetres away from sealing his fate, “i mean it, steve.. never ever.”

“never ever,” he echoes, still waiting for your permission to close the gap.

your head nods slightly, “oka-,” interrupted by his lips mashing with yours, taking your bottom lip between his teeth, adamant to not waste any more precious time.

your hand rests against his heaving chest, barely curling around the fabric, just enough to keep him close.

steve breaks away first, just to look at you with lovesick eyes. he knows that this will inevitably only end one way, but that’s okay. if being with you in the meantime is the prize, then the eventual fallout is negligible.

“shit,” he breathes, keeping the distance small and easily shortened, “you’re so beautiful,” fully meaning it but really only saying it to watch you squirm again.

“stop it,” abashedly hurrying to connect your lips again, noses knocking against one another with your careless action.

you taste like sweet wine and spearmint, delicate with the way your tongue swipes over his bottom lip, a soft murmur escaping your throat when his hand finds your thigh.

a welcoming new addiction, one steve wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to escape. ever.

-

being secretive meant a lot of days holed up in your apartment. unless of course both of you were needed at the ice. that’s when shit got really fun.

every single person on that rink truly believed your eyes were on them but only steve knew who you were actually looking at.

eddie was completely non-the-wiser, ignorant to the fact you and steve arrived just minutes apart, blissfully unaware of the violet markings trailing down your neck.

the thrill of having something to hold over him. no matter how loud he’d scream at steve or how hard he’d knock him down, steve knew that at the end of it all, he was going home with you.

personally, steve thought the tension was

palpable. that every single person in this building could tell that he couldn’t wait to get home to touch you again.

one particular eve, sprawled out next to you in bed, as you had been for days at this point, steve jumps up, grabs the clunky polaroid camera and starts coaxing you out of bed.

“come on,” he orders, wrapping his fingers around yours, “i got an idea.”

tossing his jersey in your direction, just barely catching it before it fallls to the ground again. “take this off,” running his fingers around the hem of your shirt, “and put this on,” he barks, already helping you lift the fabric over your head.

you grab onto his hand, furrowed brows, “what’re you doing?”

“i wanna take a picture,” having already noted the polaroid camera that sat on your shelf. he’d been thinking about it for weeks, only just comfortable enough to ask.

you hesitate but do as he says says anyway, letting the jersey fall around your body while steve watches with his jaw detached.

he nods towards the bed, in quiet amazement as the jersey falls around your bare thighs, riding higher when you move.

you lay back, steve crawling onto the mattress behind you, knees pressed together as he looms above. so perfect, sprawled out on the bed with his jersey on.

he gives no warning before snapping the picture, grinning to himself behind the plastic camera.

“i wasn’t looking,” you frown, grabbing ahold of his wrist before he can take another.

“that was just a practice one,” he coos, looking at you rather than through the viewfinder.

what he truly wanted was a picture that only the two of you would ever see.

“can i?” asking cautiously as his large hand lays on your knee, waiting for that small nod before spreading them apart, closing the space between you.

his hand skirts upward, brushing your thigh until it meets your core, keeping his eyes trained on yours for approval.

“yeah?” steve repeats, the camera still poised in his other hand.

you nod again, chest heaving as you allow him to manoeuvre your body, relinquishing full control over to him.

steve’s thumb traces the lace fabric, grazing your clit and down to your quivering hole. shuddering breath fills the room but you don’t contest it, relaxing into the mattress instead.

his finger hooks around the fabric, yanking it to the side, your soaked cunt waiting below.

“okay?” he reiterates further, dropping the camera onto the bed to pull his boxers, cock aching and starved, leaking with anticipation.

“please,” finally using your voice, a desperate, strangled cry that makes his cock twitch.

steve’s vision is clear, he knows what he wants from this. something that only the two of you will know had happened.

guiding his tip to your eager entrance, gently nudging inside as you wail softly, fingers grabbing at the disheveled blanket underneath.

he scrambles for the discarded camera, wanting to take the picture before completely losing it. the tension is palpable, longing for him to move while he’s adamant on getting the perfect shot.

“a-alright honey,” steve stammers, tugging at the hem of the jersey to cover where your two bodies meet.

the shutter clicks, your two bodies intertwined perfectly and yet completely unknown to anyone that may ever see that picture.

it takes everything in him not to scrap everything and just fuck you into the mattress. a couple more photos and he’d be satisfied.

something about this entire situation was getting him off anyway, your warmth enveloping him, squeezing and trembling as you wait patiently.

“please move,” you beg, a divine temptress with your hooded eyes and wetted lips.

he does so, agonisingly slow, causing your jaw to go slack, pinging perverted thoughts to his fuzzy brain.

his thumb finds your bottom lip, resting on the skin before you get the hint to wrap your lips around it. it’s taking everything for him to not cum right now, his fingers shaking on top of the button, pointed perfectly to capture his thumb between your lips, fingers caressing your warm cheek. cutting off just before the camera meets your eyes, no identifiable features, just in case.

the camera lowers as his hips still roll slowly, your composure slipping away with each gentle thrust. steve thinks that he could’ve asked for anything at this point and you would’ve let him. too drunk, too in-love to really think about it.

but he doesn’t push it, one more picture, just for him.

your cunt, keeping him inside, a picture to be hidden and cherished.

using his fingers to bunch up the soft cotton of his jersey, perfectly framing the meeting point of your two bodies. he fills you to the hilt, drawing a sweet whine from your plump lips.

barely stable enough to snap the picture, hands trembling the entire time before tossing the camera to the side, a flurry of polaroids lay framing your body. to be ignored until after he had made you cum a couple times.

steve thrums his full attention to you, your body even. his fingers still gripping his borrowed jersey, using the fabric for leverage as he thrusts faster, choking on his moans, overcome with the intensity of your cunt squeezing around him.

“so good,” he stresses, further spreading your legs to move closer, staying stood on his knees to watch your expression contort and change with every slam of his hips.

his hand leaves the jersey, disappearing between your soft thighs to find your neglected clit, drawling the sweetest mewl from your lips, eyes squeezing shut with the new found pleasure.

“oh my god steve,” moving your hips against his in slow rhythm.

you’d done something for him and now he was due to repay you fully, thumb circling gently around your sensitive clit, neglecting his own climax to ensure you got there first.

steve thighs burn, the feel of your heels digging into the dimples on his lower back were the only thing keeping him upright.

“c’mon honey,” he coos, ducking his head to watch you wriggle, thighs squeezing together as the sweat begins to pool on your temple.

falling apart at the seams with every nudge of his cock against your sensitive spot, trembling as the waves of your orgasm threaten to spill over.

steve can tell, can feel you tighten around him, desperately clawing the soft blanket beneath.

“that’s it baby,” in a gruff low growl, still teasing your poor clit, “you sound so pretty,” drinking in every delicate whine that left your soft lips.

“shit,” you cry, moving your hips against his in perfect rhythm, your eyes stuck shut as he smirks to himself.

steve’s pace stutters, a mixture of expletives and throaty groans fill the room, moving to clasp onto your hip instead. a mixture of ecstasy and desperation overcome his bones, helplessly rutting into you as you tremble.

“oh.. uhh,” he groans, fingernails leaving tiny crescent moons in the plush skin of your hip, “f-fuck baby, i’m gonna cum,” desperate to unload while you writhe beneath, overstimulated after your own orgasm.

his fist wraps around the base of his cock, leaving your warmth just before he cums, thick ropes of his release paint your stomach, no doubt his jersey too.

it could be cleaned, but seeing you come completely undone in the bright blue shirt again wasn’t guaranteed.

the room is stifling, clammy skin no longer sexy but irritating as he gathers the forgotten polaroids, collapsing breathlessly next to you, sharing one pillow as your sticky bodies mesh.

“oh god,” choking on your words, harshly thrown back into reality, “i don’t think i wanna see those.”

steve tuts, holding the small pile above your faces, “you’re amazing.. i like that one,” flashing the image of your lips wrapped snug around his thumb.

“euurgh,” you complain, “you can keep that one.”

his eyes roll back as he flicks through, tracing the outline of where your two bodies meet, “that one’s my favourite,” turning his head to watch your grimacing face.

your fatal flaw was your humility, not wanting to own how earth-shatteringly beautiful you were was really his only issue.

“you can keep that one,” you murmur, coming to face him, “actually, you can keep them all.”

steve ponders for a moment, taking in the soft curve of your lips, the way your eyes seemed to fill with stars when you looked at him.

“thank you for doing that,” completely sincerely, “i’m gonna keep that one in my wallet,” showcasing the one where your two bodies met, entirely undetectable to any poor soul that may open his wallet.

“you’re so gross,” shoving the stack of pictures out of your site, rolling out of the bed as you go, “i’m gonna shower.. you coming or are you just gonna perv at all your weird photos?”

“say less,” steve beams, leaping up, dragging you along towards the bathroom with a chorus of shrieks and giggles.

-

steve shuffles in the soft dawn light, reluctant to leave the warm cocoon of your bed for the icy rink and brutish behaviour of his teammates.

he groans while getting ready, it never getting any easier to leave you comfortable in bed.

the doorbell shrieks from the hall, your eyes meeting in a panic.

fucking eddie.

“eddie,” you frown, leaping out of bed, “he’s early,” scowling at the clock, “he wasn’t supposed to be here until seven,” gritting your teeth as you pull discarded clothes back onto your body.

steve looks at the window, a little far down to throw himself out of it before his eyes dart back to the bed, wondering if he could shove himself underneath.

you spin as the door pings again, shoving steve to the other side of your room, “just stay in here and don’t say anything, okay?” rushing out as your bedroom door slams shut.

the door opens and eddie waltz in, shoving the last of his bagel into his mouth as he makes his way into your apartment.

“you’re early,” you scold, worriedly looking around the messy room, praying your brother wouldn’t notice.

“was getting breakfast.. thought you’d be ready,” he mumbles through chews, eyes leaving yours to also glide around the room, at the clues of there being another person in this apartment. “is someone else here?” eddie asks, finding steve’s sneakers left neatly by the door.

“no,” you rush, furrowing your brow, “i’m the only one that lives here eddie,” only half-a-lie. steve hadn’t moved in officially, but it was pretty damn close.

eddie smirks, noting the two mugs sat in the sink waiting to be washed, “no? are you sure about that?”

“what’re you even talking about? i’m not in the mood for this,” sighing heavily.

“i don’t care if you’re dating someone,” he laughs, “you can tell me, you know?”

“i’m not.. you’re just, you’re being stupid,” standing with your arms across your chest, disapproving of his early morning nonsense.

“alright.. alright,” shaking his head, “whatever. if you don’t wanna tell me, that’s fine.”

you think fast, tempted to pull the fire alarm just he’d have to get the fuck out.

“i’m not coming today, i don’t feel great so.. you should go,” eager to usher him out of the door and far, far away from all of the shit you’d mistakenly left out.

he does as you ask, walking towards the door but not before stopping right before steve’s shoes, “nice shoes,” unable to keep his snarky remark to himself of course.

your eyes fall down to the large pair of sneakers sat by the door, obvious that they weren’t ever meant for you, “they’re.. they’re.. can you just leave please?” pushing him through the door, dismayed by his lack of care for your embarrassing time.

“see ya tomorrow?”

“yeah yeah tomorrow.. bye,” abruptly closing the door in his smug face, relieved to not have witnessed your brother beat your boyfriend to death just yet.

steve breathes a silent sigh of relief at the door clicking shut, unsticking himself from the wall to make his way to your bedroom door, only waiting for your signal to come out.

“oh my god, oh my god,” you exclaim, barrelling into the room, “too close,” steve’s hands catch your frantic shoulders, slowing down the panic in your eye.

“i know..” he affirms, keeping you steady, “but he’s gone, okay? it’s fine.. he doesn’t know and now next time we’ll just.. we’ll be more careful, yeah?”

your breathing slows, nodding along with his calming words, “okay.. okay,” leaning into his palm as his hand caresses your cheek, “you should go, i don’t want you to be late.”

what did that matter if you weren’t okay? hockey would come and go but he was intending to keep you forever.

“you gonna be okay? i’ll be back as soon as we’re done,” thumb tracing the indents by your mouth, wishing he could just bundle you along with him.

“yeah.. i’m okay, go,” breaking free of his clasp though your palm stays atop of his hand, nodding encouragingly.

so reluctantly he does, leaving you for a frosty morning on the ice. a couple of hours of really testing his ability not to pummel your brother into the ground.

“why’re you late?” eddie spits, damn near slobbers, standing from the bench to approach steve, without an ounce of intimidation in his body.

steve just scoffs, “two minutes.. you’ll survive,” ignoring the stiff man to shove his bag into his locker, slamming the door shut to find eddie’s stoic face just inches from his.

“you’re always fuckin’ late,” his eyes falling slowly to the floor, a disconcerting expression overcomes his features.

through gritted teeth eddie bites, “fucking asshole,” grabbing steve by the scruff of the neck and subsequently throwing him violently back into the lockers. his spine and head, colliding loudly with the metal, a groan escaping his lips at the sudden searing ache.

“what the fuck?”

“stay the fuck away from her!” bellowing into steve’s face, completely unnecessary for the distance between them.

the bridges connect in his head, albeit slowly. realising that ‘her’ was in fact you.

his shoes.

he’d kicked them off by the door last night like he always did, without much thought about the consequence of your brother spotting them.

steve shoves him backwards, unpinning himself from the lockers, letting his anger take over.

“so fucking what?” pushing him further back, “you gonna punch me because i’m dating your sister?” using the opportunity to gain an advantage over eddie, towering above with his brows furrowed.

“no,” eddie growls, “i’ll fucking kill you for dating my sister,” already lunging towards steve, fingertips scraping his shirt as he’s tugged backwards by a both very impressed and yet very frightful jason.

“calm the fuck down!” jason hollers, though his pleas fall on deaf ears as eddie scrambles through his hold, reaching out for steve’s static body.

holy fuck.

you’d told him it’d be bad, and yeah, maybe he had expected a black eye or a bloodied lip but he hadn’t prepared himself for this.

a rage so deep, so visceral that even tommy was ushering steve out of the locker room, a fearful glint to his eye that steve had never seen.

“fuck man,” tommy exasperates, holding his jacket between his fingers, “didn’t think you had it in ya..” amazement rippling through his voice, “you should definitely go though.. give it a couple days and.. he’ll be alright.”

steve wasn’t sure that was true.

a couple of days surely wasn’t enough for that anger to subside. he wouldn’t put it past eddie to creep through the window and strangle him in his sleep.

but he goes nonetheless, a slow, contemplative drive back to your apartment. wondering if this was even the best place to go. you’d be wondering, confused why he didn’t come back. you at least deserved to know.

the door cracks open almost instantaneously, revealing your tear stained face accompanied by your wobbling lip, appalled at the sheer sight of him, “what did you do? steve? what the fuck did you do?”

[sleepyangelkami]

TOUCH STARVED s.harrington

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 2.5K

STEVE HARRINGTON X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - you were too shy to speak up for what you wanted, even to your boyfriend for something so simple. fortunately for you, he always seem to know exactly what you need.

 ☆ WARNINGS - mention of pussy whipped, reader has hair, light insecurity, (1) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

walking into family video, steve swore he'd never seen such a glum face.

your expression was saddened, not enough to look upset over something but just enough to tell steve what kind of day you'd been having. and believe me, he'd had his fair share of these kind of days.

"you doofus, that's not how you do it." robin argued, as she always was. nothing steve could do for her ever deemed to be the 'right way' however, before he could give back a snappy argument, he snapped his head towards you, the bells of the store giving a quick ring.

robin looked up confused as she received no snarky comeback before glancing towards you. she could have rolled her eyes, how pussy-whipped was this guy? "hey, y/n." she greeted first, watching as steve stepped away from the counter.

"hi, rob." you gave her a sweet, almost shy smile, she returned it in full. robin was very well used to you getting in these little moods, sort of where you shy into yourself. she'd never mentioned it, though, sort of assuming that was just how you were.

"hey, honey." steve was by your side in an instant, snatching up your bag from you so he could hold it. the sight of him had you leaning into him, almost fluttering your eyes shut. a sudden overwhelming feeling of tiredness fell over you. "you okay?"

he was craning his neck to look at you, you merely nodded. "tired." you answered before making your way behind the counter with him.

technically, you shouldn't be behind the counter and if keith were here, he'd surely have something to say about it. but he wasn't.

family video was having one of them slow days that consisted in hardly five customers an hour while steve and robin argued relentlessly on working the stupid computer that had been around way too long for anyone's liking.

you sat on one of the chairs with steve's arm around you. for as long as you could remember, he'd always been like this. touchy.

and truthfully? you were thankful. some days, all you needed was his touch and you didn't even have to ask, merely hold out a hand shyly and it was in yours. but on days like this, even an arm constantly around your shoulder wasn't enough.

your fingers had trailed up to mess with his. his large hand was relatively big in yours, you could lean against his shoulder all the while. in all of this, you could have fallen asleep.

though, that deemed hard with robin and steve's constant arguing. "you idiot!" steve yelled, pushing buttons at the computer and sort of dragging you as he did so. "you're gonna break it!"

"and what if i did?" she argued back. "not like it's worth anything." she would have kicked the computer, had she been right. unfortunately, the computer was worth something, her job.

steve sat himself back on the chair with a scowl before glancing to you.

even the mere sight of you was always enough to calm him down.

"sorry." he mumbled, knowing he was disturbing whatever peace you were getting. you merely waved him off before going back to playing with his fingers.

a couple more customers came in and fled all the same, renting movies that robin and steve would then gossip about as soon as they'd leave the store. oh yeah, horrible movie. i heard the sequels even worse!

it was best for you to leave them do this.

and by seven, it was time to lock up. you stood outside, waiting for steve who was using the key to pull down the store gate.

robin's head came out from underneath, holding her satchel bag. "night guys!" she called after you without turning around. she didn't even have a drivers license so you weren't entirely sure how she was getting home. nonetheless, you'd learned that it was better not to question robin.

"night!" steve called back before turning to you and rolling his eyes. "that girl." he only shook his head and shut his eyes, concealing his obvious irritation towards his best friend.

you only grinned back sheepishly, knowing they despised yet loved one another dearly.

it wasn't until you were sat in the passenger seat of his car, gazing out the window while your hands fiddled with his fingers that sat atop your thigh that he noticed something was wrong. earlier, you'd shrugged it off as mere tiredness and he supposed he believed you.

the night sky was dark and the hot air coming from the car was enough to lull anyone to sleep. yet still, he had a gnawing feeling that you weren't telling him the whole truth.

you weren't a liar, no. steve would say you were many things, never a liar.

however, you had the tendency to hide things from him. not overly important things like seeing someone else or something or other. you just had the tendency to not speak much about your feelings unless directly asked. you'd shy away and sheepishly shrug, not wanting to bother him.

you always had that fear of burdening him.

as the relationship progressed, he noticed this. he too had the fear of burdening. but slowly, you both began to break out of your shells. him undeniably much faster than you.

the stillness of his house told you it was home. the porch lights were on as he led you inside, hand on the small of your back. a couple lights were left on in the house too.

not the large, centre lights.

the warm lamps illuminating the entire house in a cozy aura.

you weren't too sure how you moved from the door to the couch so quickly. nonetheless, you relaxed into the material as the sound of you and steve's show began to play. a new episode every week. it was a ritual in the harrington house. and by that, i mean just you and him.

steve didn't miss the glances you kept shooting him. whether intentional or not, he could see from the corner of his eye, your head move to look at him and suddenly look back at the screen before he could catch you.

when he did, though, he caught exactly what he needed.

you were looking at him all doey, presumably tired however there was something else in your eye, something that gave you completely away.

a longing.

suddenly, everything clicked.

there was a reason you'd been leaning into him so much today, following him around silently like a lost puppy dog. not that he minded, no, he never minded. but he knew something had been wrong and that you didn't think you had voice enough to speak on it.

"what's wrong with you, huh?" he nudged you, voice ever so gentle. though he knew what you wanted, he sort of wanted you to tell him. "been quiet all day."

you leaned your head against the back of the couch, eyes travelling over his pretty features. and he looked especially pretty in the dim lighting of the enormous living room. "'m always quiet." you countered.

in a way, you were far from wrong. more often than not, steve would have to beg you to speak to more people, try get out there because he knew you wanted to. once again, you feared your voice was much too small. "fair point. but you're more quieter today."

you pursed your lips at him. "just quieter." he hummed in confusion. "it's just 'quieter', more quieter isn't the right grammer."

a roll of his eyes was paired with a pretty grin. "see? there's my smart girl. where was she all day, hm? head cloudy?"

truthfully, you didn't know what was wrong. everything just felt so off, all day you'd wanted to be surrounded by him. his embrace, his words, his scent, his everything. and that was becoming a little too much when the cruel world reminded you that it was, in fact, impossible to morph into another human being by hugging them hard enough. "i don' know." you shrugged, voice sort of small.

but steve had been in the game much longer than you.

it started with the simple feeling of his fingers tracing against your cheeks, grasping a strand of hair and curling it between his index finger. he always thought you looked pretty with your hair framing your face. though you were undeniably beautiful in all aspects.

"there something you want?" he didn't ask it in an accusing way that made you sheepishly look away. he spoke ever so quietly, as if careful of disturbing the peace of his rarely quiet house.

once again, you shrugged.

"sweetheart." he gave you this look. this convincing, knowing, look. steve always had a way of communicating to you, even just through his eyes. it was enough for your heart to quench.

he looked as though he knew exactly what had been troubling you, like he knew exactly how to fix it.

how is it that steve harrington seemingly knew everything in the world? sometimes, even he made you feel a little silly. i mean, he was more tuned in with your emotions than you were.

the show that was playing on the tv was low, barely heard as his eyes searched your own. "you know you can ask for anything, yeah?" you nodded your head while chewing your bottom lip. because you did know. steve always made it easy for you to come to him with anything. yet even then, your own shy nature still prevented you from saying all the words that sat against the tip of your tongue. the universe tended to be cruel like that. "c'mere, honey."

his outstretched arms looked like the heaven you'd been searching for.

without second thought, you found yourself climbing into them, breathing out a sigh of relief as your cheek sat itself against his sweater-covered chest.

this is what you wanted.

his legs were outstretched, somewhere for you to sit against while your own wrapped themselves against his torso. there was something so comforting about the feeling of him against you.

he let you relax your face against him, lips shut tight as one of your hands came beneath your chin. while watching the animations flash across the television, you could feel his own arms slinging loosely around your waist, one hand gently playing with the strands of hair while the other traced against your back.

you supposed you weren't morphed into him but this was as good as it was going to get.

perhaps, this was all you needed.

he was gentle, soft and welcoming.

everything you'd been hoping for.

"this all you needed, hm?" the shapes he drew against your back began to feel a lot like words, a lot like 'i love you'. you nodded, humming ever so softly. "should've just asked, baby."

"i didn't wanna bother you." you mumbled, suddenly feeling like the whole thing had been just a little silly.

you felt his hand against your chin, gently tilting it upwards so you could meet his eye. "you never bother me." and you could tell by the chocolatey swirl in his eyes. he wasn't lying.

perhaps two hours passed since that very moment. steve watched the show episode until it ended, flicking on the television programme that was simply on. he could feel your soft breaths against the nape of his neck, hands outstretched towards him.

you'd fallen asleep in his embrace.

he often told you not to watch the show so late if you would fall asleep albeit you always insisted that you wouldn't. low and behold, he was right. he was always right.

and when the final programme ended, and he deemed it was late enough, he decided it was time to get you into bed.

instead of waking you, he opted to pick you up, carrying you upstairs and surely almost dropping you a total of three times because he couldn't register where he was putting his feet. yet eventually, he made it towards the bedroom and placed you against the bed. the warm blankets soon were draped over your body.

and after all the rustling, the thing that stirred you was the creek of the door.

he watched as your eyes parted, obviously still slick with sleep, and cursed himself. he thought, who, as rich as him, would own a door that creeks so loudly? and made a mental note to get new hinges.

"you okay, angel?" he mumbled into the darkness of the room, slipping off his jeans and slipping into bed with you.

"mm." you hummed as he grasped your body again, holding you close. your arms hugged themselves around his neck, shutting your eyes closed. "wanna melt into you." you mumbled, obviously too tired to register what you were saying.

"yeah?" a chuckle fell from his lips, knowing you would never have the confidence to say such a thing while wide awake. nonetheless, he took it as a compliment anyway. "we should try turkey then."

"what's in turkey?" you questioned tiredly.

"i don't know. everything? i mean, if they can give you a new set of teeth, surely they have the answer to your problems too. we can like, melt ourselves together." he was talking nonesence, though it was lulling you back to sleep anyway.

the sound of your sleepy giggle had him holding his breath, wondering if this was all real. "let's go to turkey then."

"i'll put it on our bucket list, angel." you nodded your head, without response. "you goin' to sleep on me? hm?"

"can you..." you cut yourself off with a breath. then, you reminded yourself that it was steve harrington, the boy you loved more than yourself. and you could ask him anything. "can you keep talking?"

"careful what you wish for, i might not shut up." you only giggled gently before allowing him to continue. "did i ever tell you about dustin's girlfriend?" you shook your head. "oh god, you should have seen it..."

this, you were sure, is where you could actually die happy.

main masterlist/steve's masterlist

[lavendermunson]

mine - steve harrington

summary you get separated from the love of your life after spending the best night together, would the universe bring you back to him? based on this request, thank you so much!

cw college!steve, college!reader. fluff, angst and more angst then more fluff. modern times!! allusions to sex. reader wears glasses sometimes.

w.c 9.2k

a/n created a playlist for this one (i struggled a little bit and the songs helped) thank you to @stveharringtn and @ihatepeanutss for reading the early chapter and motivating me to continue ily! NO PROOFREAD BECAUSE IM EXCITED

dividers by @saradika

I. Left a small town and never looked back.

Due to your parents' jobs, you had to move frequently, and the longest you stayed in one place was three years. You were so used to this, following the single rule for yourself: never get attached.

One problem, it was impossible not to fall for Steve Harrington. 

You met Steve in Hawkins, and the three years you spent together were magical. Talking late at night, going to the movies, and hanging out by the lake. Holidays were always spent with him, you invited him to your house, and your parents loved him. Even though your little brother was only 8 years old, he knew Steve was important to the family.  

The last year of high school was just around the corner. You’ve talked to Steve about graduating together, going to college, and spending the rest of your lives together. Watching each other through all the ups and downs of adulthood, you knew Steve was going to stay with you no matter what, he would be there for you, and you would be there for him. It was all a perfect dream, you’d have someone to celebrate your victories and cheer you up when the inevitable bad luck followed you around.

That dream was crushed when your parents told you they had to move again. You were heartbroken, and even more so because you were going to be separated from your favorite person. It was the first time you'd broken the rule, you got attached to Steve, and you fell in love with him.

The news broke him. He couldn’t sleep for the rest of the week, he wanted to be with you all the time, like you promised.

———

Before leaving Hawkins, you decided to confess your feelings for him. It felt wrong to pack that secret into your suitcase. Steve felt the same, he liked you too, but he didn’t want to admit he was in love with you yet. He decided to make your last day at Hawkins the best day you’ve ever had.

The first stop was the diner outside of town to eat burgers, fries, and milkshakes like you always do. At your favorite booth, this time it had a vase with flowers in the center of the table and a beanie babie.

“This is the one I saw in the magazine.” You take the white stuffed bear, it has a red ribbon around his neck and an embroidered red heart. 

“In case you need someone to hug,” he says, looking at the laces of his shoes and holding back his tears.

“Smells good! I’m so hungry.” You saw the way his smile faded, changing the subject was better than crying already. You had to enjoy the night.

While sipping from your freshly made milkshakes— stealing the cherry on top of his milkshake as usual—and watching Steve go over the old jukebox to play your favorite songs, the pocket of his jeans ended up empty from using all the coins he had.

“Get up! We have to dance.” Steve stands up, reaching for your hand.

He had to choose wisely for the next song, it was the last coin he had, so of course Be My Baby, by The Ronettes, was playing. He took your hand, squeezing it, and placed his free hand on your back to keep you closer. You rest one of your hands on his chest, feeling his heart beat fast for you.

Everyone in the diner was watching you, but you didn’t care. You were in the arms of your boy, your love, and it was the last night with him before a while. You had to dance like nobody was watching.

Leaving the checkered floor and the red booths, the second stop was the theater, cuddling while watching ‘Before Sunrise’ . It's one of your favorite movies, and it came back to the big screen for its anniversary.

Both of you get the feeling that it is the perfect movie to watch on a day like this. It was perfect because you don’t know what’s going to happen with you two in the future, just like Celine and Jesse. Your love for each other looks like that, it feels like that, and the best part is that it’s real, not something written for a movie. You aren’t acting or performing. You are feeling it.

You feel so lucky you didn’t meet him for just one night, you had spent so much time with Steve. The endless walks around the park and picking flowers in spring while he holds the basket and you place your favorites on it so you can take them home. The fun summers, hanging out by the pool, and eating a lot of ice cream—one of those years you had free ice cream thanks to Steve working at Scoops Ahoy. You spent the entire summer making fun of his tiny sailor suit, not wanting to admit he looked really good in it. 

Fall was always fun, dressing up for Halloween, and joining the kids to trick or treat, so at the end, you can steal some of their best candy bars. The adorable winter, playing in the snow and getting your nose red, drinking hot cocoa and marshmallows while watching Christmas movies.

Everything comes back to your mind like you were watching your movie. Feeling safe and loved with Steve’s arms around you. You never fought before, nothing went bad, but everything was over. For a while.

Steve holds your hand while you walk through the parking lot. The night sky is decorated with stars, so big and bright. He interlocks his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand as you walk to his BMW. 

The last stop is Lover’s Lake. He parks his car in the usual spot—your favorite spot. It’s the best place to feel the magic of the water mixed with the light of the moon. A reminder that you exist on the same planet, even if the miles come between you.

The radio starts to play ‘Don’t you forget about me’. The song was perfect. You take a deep breath. This is a moment you will remember forever.

Both sitting in the hood of his car, he hugs you, shielding you from the cold breeze, and kisses the top of your head while your back rests against his chest. The tears start to spill from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. You can't hold the sobs, your chest is giving up.

“Hey, hey!” He turns you around, softly cupping your face between his hands and rubbing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Don’t you dare forget about me,” you whisper, as if the trees were going to be disturbed by your sobs.

“I won’t, I’ll call you every day. But I am going to miss you so much,” he whispers back. 

“I’m scared, Stevie,” you sob, tangling your arms around his neck. “What if we can’t make it?”

“We will, we got this. The love I have for you is stronger than anything else, we won’t let the distance break us.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise”

Pressing his thumbs against your cheeks, he gets close to you. Your lips touch, and it feels like thousands of fireworks light up inside you. You feel one of his hands slide down your arm, and it makes you shiver. His hand rests on your waist and gives it a little squeeze. You jump closer to him than before, and you can feel his lips turn into a grin.

It wasn’t your first kiss with him. You kissed sometimes while playing spin the bottle or when Steve wanted to teach you how to kiss better.

“We will get through this. I'll see you again, and we can live the rest of our lives together.”

He kisses you again, and you open your mouth as he pushes your face to the side with his thumb. He slides his tongue to join yours and get more of the way you taste, honey, strawberries and cherries. Steve is being patient, taking his time brushing his tongue against yours and humming at how good it feels.

This kiss felt more magical, it made your insides bubbly, and your cheeks got warmer. But inside you, the clock was ticking, you had to savor this moment in case the universe turned against you again.

He breaks the kiss, trying to slow his breath. You do the same, opening your eyes slowly.

“I won’t do anything, not tonight." His voice is soft, but the tone is deeper. He feels a knot in his throat. “But next time, I promise I will make you feel so good.”

“I know, next time and the others. There’s only a couple of months left for summer break, and we will see each other again.”

“We will, baby. Now kiss me before I fall to the floor, you look so pretty tonight as you always do.”

“You are beautiful, Stevie.”He kisses you again, not getting enough of you. He kissed you before you went inside the house and he would’ve kissed you a thousand times more if he knew it was going to be the last time.

II. Wondering why we bother with love if it never lasts. 

You were disconnected and heartbroken by the time you spent the first week of your last year of high school at a different school. Steve picked a few shifts a week at the local coffee shop after school, always with Robin by his side.

Hawkins felt so empty without you. Every time he saw a happy couple smiling, kissing, or hugging, he felt nauseous and jealous. His friends knew how he felt, they missed you too, but they never stopped calling you. 

The only thing that kept him going were your calls, you called every single night. Tell him about your day, your new school, and your new friends. He tells you about school, work, Robin, and the kids. It was good, he loved hearing your voice and watching you through his screen.

“I can’t believe it! I told you! Steve Harrington’s first A+ essay, and without my help. I feel a little wounded, you don’t need me at all!”

He felt so proud of himself. You were the last one to know about it but you are the most excited one. Even more excited than him.

“You are a great tutor, all those tips and seeing my practice essays marked with a pink glittery pen helped me a lot”

“I'm so proud of you, you are capable of anything I know!”

“Honey…” Steve’s worried face makes your heart sink.

“Yes?”

“I’m always going to need you. I can’t live without you.”

You press both of your hands against your chest as if that were going to soothe your pain. The damage you caused him is evident, you shouldn’t have broken that stupid rule.

“I miss you, Stevie. I can’t do this without you.”

“I miss you too, honey. And you can, you have me here. Always”

Steve feels his head heavier each minute, the long hours at the coffee shop kill him. 

“We should go to sleep, yeah?” he says, noticing your sleepy face. 

“We should. Good night. Call me tomorrow!”

“Please, I don’t know if I can survive without hearing your voice”

You get closer to your camera, blowing him a kiss.

“I’ll annoy you with my voice every night, honey!”

“I’d love that baby. Good night,” he says, blowing a kiss back.

When you hang up, he tosses his laptop to the floor. It falls on the pile of unwashed clothes he has. 

“Weird,” he says to himself, looking at his laptop resting on the clothes. He takes a look around his room. It’s a mess, he makes a mental note to clean it, and he can’t stress over it right now.

Steve lays with his back against the mattress. He remembers the way you brought your hands up to your chest. He does the same, hoping to understand why you did it.

His warm palms rest against his chest, now he knows. He feels it. Steve applies a bit of pressure to his chest, closing his eyes and trying to fall asleep.

So much for trying, it felt like maybe five minutes had passed, and when he glanced at his clock, it was six a.m. His alarm was about to go off, and he had to go downstairs, make breakfast, and get on his way to pick Robin up to go to school.

That’s when he lets out a sob. Time does pass without you, the world doesn’t stop, and he gets even more scared than before. 

Don’t you forget about me.

He grabbed his phone, clicking on his texts. You’ve already said good morning to him.

‘Good morning baby. I'll miss you forever. Have a nice day! Love you”

That’s when he takes a moment to reply. 

‘Good morning, hope you slept well. I love you too.”

And then he gets out of bed to spend another day without you by his side. Knowing you are slipping through his fingers already.

———

Three weeks later.

The calls stopped being frequent, sometimes you were too tired, or sometimes he was too tired. 

“I have to go, I'm exhausted. Can I call you tomorrow?” you ask him.

Steve had to ignore the arrow that just shot through his heart, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. The more he talked to you, the more he missed you. When he knew you weren’t going to make it for the summer break he felt his heart break, every time he woke up he was already crying.

This broke your heart too, not being able to see him, or visit your friends. It felt like some strange and strong force was keeping you away and pushing you farther.

“Of course, honey. Sweet dreams”

“Sweet dreams, Stevie.”

He closes his laptop after you hang up, tossing it aside. The pile of clothes seems to be bigger. He swears to do it tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. Whenever he feels like he is alive.

Four months later.

The rush hour at the coffee shop ends up killing Steve’s back, and his feet are burning. To his surprise, his parents are home.

Can this day get any worse? Yes, you haven’t texted him back since yesterday.

"Steve, are you still wasting your time at that damn coffee shop?” His dad shouts he doesn’t have time for this. “Steve?”

He hears his dad’s heavy steps behind him. He catches Steve at the first step of the stairs.

“Didn’t you hear me? Say something!”

“I’m not wasting my time, I'm saving up for college,” Steve whispers. He can feel his dad’s warm breath against his face, and he can smell the whiskey too. 

“College? You are going to work for me, right?”

“No?”

“Then why go to college in the first place?”

Steve pushes his dad away, and his mother joins them.

“It’s clear, John.” she says.

“Say it, Steve.”

“To get the fuck away from you, that’s why,” Steve spits out. His eyes were burning, and tears were threatening to fall.

He gets away from them, locking himself in his room. He doesn’t mind looking at his phone or picking up his laptop, he just wants to fall asleep and get this over with. It has been such a long day.

Six months later.

It’s been a long time since you’ve talked to each other.

“Are you tired?” You ask, and he has been rubbing his eyes for the third time now. “You don’t have to hang up, carry me to your bed.”

Steve leaned his head to the side, just as a confused puppy does. 

“C’mon, I’ll read you a story so you can fall asleep. Like old times.”

“Are you sleeping late?”

“I have assignments to finish, I need to catch up with a few classes because I fell behind.”

“You’ll do great, honey. You are the smartest person I know!”

“Steve Harrington, you are the smartest person I know. We are a couple of months away from college and i'm really excited”

“Me too honey, it sucks you couldn’t come here for summer break”

You will see each other, you will. 

Steve shakes his head with a smile plastered on his face, holding the laptop in his hands. He lets himself lie under his sheets, fixing his pillow and resting his head on it. 

"Are you ready?” you ask him, sitting on your desk and getting comfortable for a long night.

“Ready, no scary tales, please!"

“I promise! Close your eyes now!”

Steve takes the last glance at you, his fingers reaching to touch his screen as if he were touching your face. But he can’t, you are too far away now and it kills him.

“Goodnight”

The bubbly feeling in your chest goes away when you don’t hear a nickname. No honey, no baby. 

“Goodnight!” You wait until his eyes are closed. “And we begin, once upon a time."

Steve falls asleep before getting to know what the story is about, he was so tired and this is the first time he has slept more than three hours.

You close your laptop after watching him turn to the other side. You are trying to return your attention to your assignments, but the only thing you can feel is your heart breaking again. The hope you once had is now fading away. You are managing to live without him, but you don’t want to. 

Steve regrets it. He regrets falling asleep. This time he didn’t wake up seeing your face, he didn’t get to hear your bedtime story, and he didn’t get to tell you how much he loved you. And he regrets it so much because it was the last time he heard your voice.

III. And every time I look at you it’s like the first time

Two years later.

Steve had a hard time finishing high school, but he did. Later, he had to retake a year, but he saved up some money with Robin to move to college. After jumping up and down and celebrating with their friends their acceptance letters, they got into the college dorms for the first year, but that went very badly because they couldn’t be roommates and all the noise from the dorm building was constantly giving them a headache.

He saw Nancy and Jonathan when they all came back from college over the summer break, hanging up with them was the best. They helped him and Robin choose the best apartment outside of college, it was close to the new coffee shop they were working on and close to their buildings. He never saw you again, you were too busy to travel, and he was too. Mindlessly forgetting about each other and not meeting again hurt less. 

When he had to retake a year, he hesitated to call you. He was ashamed of himself, you were supposed to go to the same college in the same year. 

When he finally got his acceptance letter, he didn’t call you. Steve had a feeling you got into college and that your life was going well. He knew he was right.

But it had a good outcome, Steve retook his senior year and moved in with his best friend to start a new chapter in his life. A life that he wanted to enjoy, free from the pressure of his parents and the small town that made him feel so small.

Their first year wasn’t easy. Steve spent most of his time in his dorm, and Robin did too. They didn’t go to parties and didn’t seem too excited about meeting new people.

He felt like a total stranger like he didn’t belong there. He picked the same coffee shop he was working in to hang out, he picked the public library over the school library because it looked terrifying.

Steve spent most of his weekends and days off studying, he was at the top of his class. Whenever he wrote an essay, it reminded him of you, but not as a sign of hope, just a reminder of his small town years.

Robin spent most of her weekends traveling to Hawkins to meet her girlfriend, Chrissy. Taking Steve’s car and cleaning it for him as a thank you.

Steve didn’t meet anyone else, he didn’t want to get attached. If anyone leaves, what’s the point? He was only close to two of his classmates, that was enough for him.

———

“Do you know who’s moving in?” your roommate asks, Diana was always aware of every gossip around college. It was your second year being her roommate, she slowly became your best friend.

“No, who?” You ask, not really wanting to know but giving her satisfaction again.

“A new couple! I hope they aren’t as loud as the last ones.”

“Please, I need to buy new headphones just in case.”

Diana laughs, walking towards her room to place some of the new boxes she moved in. You asked if she wanted help, but she didn’t because her brand new date was going to join her.

You decided to head up to the public library, knowing you had never been there and wanting to explore a new world. It was a couple of blocks away so you had to take the bus.

———

Steve and Robin were driving around their new neighborhood, looking for their new apartment. They were singing the songs on the radio, even if Robin didn’t know most of them because her music taste was original. But Steve knew every one of the trendy songs.

They stopped at a red light. Robin got distracted by two dogs ‘kissing’ each other. Steve looked away with a face of disgust, and that’s when his eyes fell on you.

He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, were you really there? Was he hallucinating? Maybe the smell of coffee is doing some damage to his brain.

But it was you, wasn’t it? without the signature choker, without the thousands of bracelets, and without the red lipstick always staining his shirts. Then it wasn’t you. You had glasses now, a gold chain around your neck, and your hair was slightly lighter.

The bus blocks his view; he wants to scream at it to move, and when it does, you disappear—or the hallucination he had of you disappeared—the honk of the car behind him makes him jump, the green light is on, and he has to move.

“Steve! Are you okay?” Robin shouts, scanning Steve’s face. He looks pale, confused, and scared.

“I think I just saw a ghost,” he says, looking over Robin and then the road ahead.

“You are only nervous, the apartment will be good, don't worry. If they scam us, we have Chrissy to defend us in court.”

“Yeah, stop it lovebird. We are here.”

The apartment buildings look so tall, almost intimidating. Steve drives around looking for the parking lot, and when he finds it, he and Robin take a moment to process it.

"I'm scared too, but we should go in. The moving truck will be here, and we will have a lot to do,” Robin says, taking Steve’s hands and giving them a light squeeze. “We got this”

“Yeah, we should go in now.”

They go over to their apartment, meet their landlord, and get their keys. The moving truck comes a couple of hours earlier, and they move in their new stuff after cleaning the apartment.

A couple of empty boxes and a lot of wrapping paper later, they are done. They only need the heavy couch.

“Even if I help you, we won’t be able to do it”

“I know! I’m thinking”

Steve and Robin are stressed now. Steve’s hair is disheveled already, and Robin’s mascara is smudged around her eyes. They had a long drive, and now they are so tired of getting the apartment ready.

“We should just knock at our neighbors. Their screams stopped.”

“Yeah, I should buy new headphones for that.”

He points in the hallway. Robins walks out of the apartment and knocks on the door. After a few knocks, the door opens, and Steve joins them.

“Steve? You are Nick’s friend, right? I saw you with him the other day,” a guy asks, introducing himself as Eric.

“Uhh yes, Nick! Nice to meet  you."He shakes his hand. “This is Rob, my friend.”

“Nice to meet you!” Eric says, “This is my..."

“I’m Diana, nice to meet you guys,” she waves at them.

“So, we need help moving on our couch. Could you help us?” Robin asks.

“Please, we are a great team, but that couch is very heavy,” Steve says. “What if you help us, and we invite you to eat some pasta? I saw a new Italian restaurant a few blocks away.

“Sure, we can help!” Diana says.

The four of them carry the couch with ease into Steve and Robin’s apartment, they thank their new neighbors, and they all high five, looking proud of themselves. 

“Thank you again, guys, we should go. I'm starving!” Robin smiles at them, and they all nod but Diana.

“Can I invite my friend? She can meet us there,” Diana asks. They all nod, but Eric.

“No way! She hates me,” he says, shaking his head, taking Diana’s hand, and stopping her from going into their apartment. 

“I told you it would take time. She is protecting me,” she says, dragging Eric with her into her apartment. “We will see you guys in a minute.”

“Sure, take your time,” Steve says. Their neighbors leave and shut the door behind their backs.

When they are gone, he wraps his hands around Robin’s neck. He looks over the apartment and smiles.

“We made it,” he says.

“We made it!” She says back, hugging his waist and rubbing his back.

They break the hug after a few minutes, looking over the almost finished apartment. There’s some stuff left to unpack.

“Wait for Chrissy to see this, she is going to love it.”

“Is she coming? Tomorrow?” Steve asks, looking at his friend and her lovesick smile.

“Yes! I think I'll finally ask her the question"

“Already? Isn't it too soon?”

“Dingus, when you know, you know. Life is short, we can’t lose time stressing over everything,” she says, rubbing his shoulders. “You will find someone, maybe not, you know who, or maybe you will. Let time choose.”

He knew Robin was talking about you. Even if Steve moved on and got his shit together, he was still missing you and the part of him you took with you. No matter how many dates he had, how many times Hopper talked to him. He wanted you, something far from impossible. 

“You should write that on a note and put it in the fridge." They both laugh. "I'm very proud of you.”

“Don’t make fun of me, or you will lose your best man spot. I will give it to Eddie.” Robin gets a napkin out of a box and cleans her mascara.

“Hey! Who used to drive you everywhere and still does?”

“I'm joking!”

“I know,” he says, giving her a pat on the back. “Good luck with your proposal.”

“I still need a ring, not all of us carry our grandmother’s rings everywhere we go.”

“Shut up! I'll help you get a ring.”

“Yes!”

They high five again, and they hear knocks on the door. They see their neighbors again.

“My friend isn’t coming, I think she is with her boyfriend. But we can go now!”

“Yay! Sorry about your friend."Robin gets closer to Diana, leaving Steve behind with Eric.

“Aren’t you together?” he asks.

“No, we are friends. Platonic with a capital P!” Steve replies, walking to the door and joining the girls.

“Cool, maybe you can date Teddy and smooth the anger out of her,” Eric says.

“Teddy?” Steve asks, walking to the parking lot.

“Oh, Di’s best friend,” he says, pointing at Diana. “She has this weird ass white teddy bear, and since then, I call her Teddy.”

“Oh, funny,” Steve says. A weird white teddy bear? No, no, it can’t be. His heart pounds harder against his chest, and he gets back to that night. The diner, the flowers, the beanie baby, and then someone who looked like you at the bus stop.

This can’t be real, he won’t get his hopes high again.

“Are you okay, man? You look scared,” Eric asks Steve, stopping him after he puts the key on his BMW. “Can you drive?”

“Yeah, I can. Don’t worry,” Steve says, his free hand over his chest. “It’s just something that happens.”

“He sees ghosts!” Robin shouts, making everyone laugh.

“We should walk guys, it isn’t that far,” Diana adds.

“Yeah, we could use some fresh air,” Robin says.

They all walk to the restaurant, enjoying a fun night. All of them get the feeling they’ll be close, but tonight they treat each other as strangers. Not sharing all but funny stories and college adventures.

———

When Diana gets home, you are already there, she walks over to the couch to wake you up and help you get to bed.

“Did you talk to Jake?”

“He picked me up from the library, we didn't-"

“Another time will come."

You hum, walking with her to your room. She closes the door, and you walk towards your bed, put your pajamas on, and slip into bed. You try to sleep, trying to keep all the midnight-crushing thoughts away, with the BMW in the parking lot on your mind, it looks very familiar.

———

It’s only 8 a.m, and you sit at home, eating your oatmeal bowl with strawberries, bananas, and a cup of coffee you’ve made yourself. You point to the cup you made for Diana, it has been sitting there for a few minutes. Maybe she wanted a cold brew instead of a nice hot cup. 

“One is Rob, and the other... I don’t remember.”

“Di! You are really bad with names.”

“Are you sure you don’t want ice on your coffee?” you joke.

“No, and yeah, I was a little stoned too, that’s why I don’t remember well.”

“That’s always going to cost you, babe.”

“I know, but I can introduce them later! We are all going to a party, and Rob will pick us up after work because the girl had to see her girlfriend.” She chugs her cup of coffee and puts her jacket on.

“Are you sure his name is Robert?”

“No, it’s Rob!” She still looks unconvinced, but you leave it. “Anyway, is Jake picking you up?”

“I don’t know, we aren’t really on speaking terms.” 

Jake was your boyfriend a couple of weeks before he asked you for a break, and you haven’t “fixed it." He picked you up from the library yesterday, and the whole ride home was quiet and uncomfortable, but something tells you it isn't going to last.

“Call him! He is good for you.”

“I’m not sure about that, but I’ll see you later then.”

“I’ll see you later, babe!”

“Be careful!”

———

You finish washing the dishes and go back to your room to get ready for the party. Minutes later, Diana and Eric show up to drive you to the house. It’s the first party of the semester, and everyone seems pretty excited about it except you. You know if you see Jake again, he will probably break up with you, rip off the band-aid, and go to the girl who has been hanging out with him at the gym.

But you go, not wanting to miss out and excited to see some of your friends who arrived in town. It might not be the best night, but at least you’ll have a cup of cranberry juice with vodka to survive.

You arrive at the party early, not wanting to talk to anyone, yet you get closer to the table in the middle of the dining room and make yourself a cape cod. When it’s done, you get to the living room and sit on the couch, watching as people come over, and some of them wave at you and say hi before going for their drink.

Jake arrives with a girl by his side, He gets closer to her ear to whisper something, and she turns around as he walks to you.

“Can we talk?”

“You are going to break up with me, aren’t you?” You pinch your eyebrows together. 

“Let me explain.”

He sits on the arm of the couch you are sitting on, so close to you. You can already hear his words muffling and how sorry he is about all of it, making up excuses to let you know it’s not your fault he is doing this and the two of you should end your relationship now. Avoid telling the truth and spinning around the subject, reminding you of all the good moments but also all the fights and “breaks” you had.

You look at him through your eyelashes, your tears rolling down your cheeks. Your now ex-boyfriend pinches your chin with his fingers, not letting your gaze fall to your lap or the cup you hold in your hand. He whispers “I’m sorry” thousands of times more, and you refuse to move, feeling the warmth of his fingers against your face for the last time. Then he leaves you alone to find his date, and you wish the earth could swallow you whole.

———

When Steve gets to the party with Robin and Chrissy by his side, he lets the two of them look for a place while he gets their drinks. The house is so tiny that everyone is squeezing each other and bumping into each other on the way to other rooms. Everything smells like alcohol and weed, and even the floor is sticky, but after all, Steve manages to get to the dining room and look for the red solo cups. He takes one and pours tequila into it. He drinks it, feeling the burn down his throat as he keeps his eyes closed. He needs more of these to survive the night.

He looks around, recognizing some people he used to see around in his first year, some of them are customers in the coffee shop he works in. When his head looks over to the living room, he sees the girl from the bus stop, the one who looks like you. 

Steve gets even more confused as you chug your drink, the solo cup covering your face. He turns his head away from the view, even if it’s not you, his mind betrays him.

Where’s the real you? What are you doing right now? Do you have a boyfriend? A girlfriend? A child? A cat? Are you married? 

The question that hurts more is the one he used to think about almost every night. Would he see you again?

He tries to enjoy the party as soon as he sees the girl leave. He misses watching Diana run after you and try to comfort you. 

Your friend takes you home, and Steve stays until the party is over, and he is a bit more sober to take Robin and Chrissy back to their apartment.

———

“Robin? Why did you leave so soon?” Steve asks Robin over the phone, while he tosses empty boxes and bags around.

“We are getting you breakfast! Jesus, what’s your problem?”

“I’m hungover, and I forgot I have to send this email before twelve, but I can’t find my laptop charger, and I can’t find yours either!”

“Shit, I took mine because Chrissy needed my laptop, but I'm sure yours is in your room. We unpacked everything.”

“Fuck! I’ll call you back.”

“Ask Diana for one!”

Stressed out, Steve hangs up the phone before listening to Robin’s last words. Of course, he can ask his neighbor for a favor, and he knows Diana is nice. 

He gets out of his apartment, and a few steps later, he gets in front of the door. He knocks a lot of times to get Diana’s attention, or maybe Eric’s. Steve doesn’t remember if they got back here from the party, but it’s worth trying.

As the door opens, he takes a step forward. “Hey! My laptop charger broke, and I have to send this very important  email-" He takes a deep breath, not believing who is in front of them. “What-”

“It’s you,” he whispers, feeling a knot in his throat and rubbing his clammy hands together.

“It’s me” You rub your eyes one more time, getting rid of the blur on your eyes from being woken up. “Steve?” Your heart starts to beat against your chest so fast that you swear it’s hurting you.

Steve stares at you, it’s like the first time he saw you all those years ago. He didn’t believe in love at first sight until he felt his body giving up and just yearning for you. He feels it all again, you look even more beautiful than before, but with your signature heavy gaze. 

“I'm sorry if I’m interrupting, I can just...“

“No? no. Uh, come in, let me find my charger.”

This is not how you imagined seeing him again. The last time you dreamt about him, you were seeing him for the first time at the Hawkins airport, You ran to him, and he caught you in his arms, kissing every inch of your face. And now, with your heart beating faster than ever and your feet carrying you to your room, you can’t help but feel like you are having a nightmare.

You hurry up, find your charger, and run back to Steve.

“Here, you can keep it. I have two of them,” you say. He still looks at you with his mouth slightly open and his eyes studying every part of your face.

Keep it. He knows you are doing this because you are nice, but a part of you still recognizes all the love you once had for him. Or have, because it never faded away. It’s still your Steve, slightly older and with a confused expression on his face. 

He takes the charger from your hands, your fingers touching him for a couple of seconds. When you finally lock eyes with him, you can see his glassy eyes while yours look the same. He didn’t want to believe it was you, you were so close all this time.

“I thought i’d never see you again,” you whisper, almost inaudible, but he can hear it. As if its ears were trained to hear even the lowest tone of your voice. 

But the air feels tense, awkward. He doesn’t say anything, and you stand in front of him like before, frozen in your place as a wave of anxiety washes you over. You stare at each other, trying to avoid all these feelings rushing through your veins.

“I need to send this email, I’ll be right back.”

He goes back to his apartment, leaving you and your overwhelming feelings alone. You close the door to your apartment and take some time to process everything. Steve is here, your Steve. The boy you once called the love of your life, the only boy you’ve ever loved.

You weren’t sure you were going to see him again. You gave up on it a few months ago, knowing it would take a miracle to see him again. And he was so close to you all this time.

When you hear the knock on the door again, you open it faster this time. Steve stands up in front of you, watching your tears roll down your cheeks. He wraps his arms around your body, hugging you so tightly as if you were going to disappear. Your arms hug his torso, letting your head fall against his chest for a second before your sighs turn into sobs.

“I can’t believe it’s really you,” Steve whispers, convincing himself to not let you go. He fears the alarm will go off and he will have to wake up from his dream. 

“I know, it feels like a dream, please don’t let go,” you say, as if you were reading his mind all this time. 

“I won’t”

Steve rests his chin on your head, letting his own tears fall. You stay in the hug for a long time, feeling his warmth against your body, and his arms push you closer to him. You dig your fingers in his back, wanting to feel him more and wishing for this not to be some sick joke.

He places one of his hands on your head, kissing your forehead, before leaning back and searching for your face.

“Hi,” you say as you look at him, tears on his face just like yours.

“Hi,” he smiles, slightly. You do the same, looking at every inch of his face. Remembering all the moles your mind seemed to forget with the time.

You admire each other, letting your mind take you back to Hawkins and all those years you spent together.

“I missed you so much,” he says, slicing the awkward silence with a knife, now rubbing your back and trying to get you relaxed. As your sobs stop, you let go of him and invite him inside.

“I missed you too.” You smile again. The inches separating you are killing you, but there’s too much to say and feel.

“You stopped calling,” Steve says, with a sour tone in his voice you’ve never heard before.

“The phone works both ways.” You bite back, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Protecting you from what’s coming.

“I-” Steve mutters, avoiding your eyes and looking all over the room.

“You? What? Did you forget about me?” you ask. “We made a promise.”

The mix of feelings that sit right at the top of your chest starts to reveal themselves. It’s all so confusing, and you weren’t prepared for this. You want to blame him for the time lost, but you know it’s also your fault.

“Why are you bringing this up right now? I saw you for the first time at a fucking bus stop and thought I was going crazy. It’s too much!”

Steve feels relieved; his mind wasn’t betraying him, and he wasn’t going crazy. It was really you—the new you. 

“Just say the truth. You didn’t answer my call when I got into college or when I moved in.”

“You called?”

“I called your house since you didn’t reply to my texts or emails. No one answered.”

“I got into a fight with them, and I moved in with Hopper. I was having a hard time, I’m sorry.”

He confesses. You see the way his lips turn into a pout, his tears threatening to fall again.

“What happened?”

“I messed up, had to retake a year.”

"Oh,” it’s the only thing you can think of. Some things made sense, but you still had a lot of questions.

“I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed and so disappointed in myself. No one heard about you, or your family, so I thought you didn’t want to see me, and I had the feeling you were fine without me.”

“We had to move again, two times. But this is the college of our dreams, I didn’t see you here the first year. I thought you chose a different one.”

“You know me, I don’t break promises.”

He looks back at you again, it takes everything in him not to walk to you and kiss you. It takes everything in you to not do the same.

“Listen, I have an interview today, but can we have dinner? I still have a lot of things to say, a lot of things to ask, and it’s been so long.” you blur out. 

“Sure, I have a shift at the coffee shop, so I’ll see you at seven?”

“Yeah, that’s okay, Where do you work?” you ask, suddenly shivering. It’s really him, this isn’t a dream.

“In a coffee shop that’s on Main,” he replies, “I know you never go there, I would’ve seen you.”

“I’ve been busy.”

Right. Diana mentioned a boyfriend. His heart suddenly stops, fearing that he is seeing you again just to lose you again.

“I know,” he says, resting his hands on his hips, looking around the room to avoid your eyes again. “Good luck on your interview.”

“Thank you, good luck on your shift." You can feel the awkwardness coming back, the uncomfortable silence threatening to come back. “I’ll see you at seven!”

“I’ll pick you up here,” he says, You can only nod before he turns his back on you. 

"Stevie,” you say. He is about to open his front door when he hears your voice again.

“Yes?” he says, turning his head slightly to see you. He missed that nickname, you are the only one who calls him like that. 

You want to keep talking and confessing your true feelings right now, but you have things to do. He is more important than everything else, you got him back, you don’t want to waste time. 

“Say hi to Robin for me.” 

He nods, then walks into his apartment. You close the door of yours once again.

Fear and excitement occupy most of your brain right now. You are praying for him to still want you, to love you back as much as you've loved him this whole time. Being his best friend would be a great start, but being back to be his love sounds even better.

IV. You are the best thing that's ever been mine.

Steve paces around his apartment, Robin and Chrissy are back, and they watch him mumble something under his breath. 

“Everything will be fine, you will talk to her and get back together,” Robin says.

“What if she has a boyfriend? What if she is in love with someone else?” 

“You can always steal her away, Robin did that to me." Chrissy joins the conversation. 

They have been talking about you for hours. Steve decided to exchange his shift and stay home while Robin was taking her day off. He was too distracted to go to work today. 

“Dingus. Stop it! You are making me dizzy." Robin gets up, reaching for Steve’s hands and making him look at her. “You’ll see her when she is back, you are going to take her to that restaurant and talk like the adult you are. Okay?”

"Hot,” Chrissy blurs out.

“Thank you, sweetheart." Robin looks at her and winks. 

“Gross, get a room, you two!”  Steve’s disgusted face makes both girls laugh. 

“You can do it, dingus. You’ll get her back.” 

“I’m not sure if she feels the same or if I feel the same.”

“Didn’t you say she hugged you so tight you almost ran out of breath? That’s a good sign.” Robin’s hands travel to Steve’s shoulders, shaking him up and trying to wake him up from whatever nightmare he is making up in his head. 

“And don’t start. You’ve been rejecting girls, having failed dates, and looking like a lost puppy whenever you see a girl that looks slightly like her. You two are still in love, from what you tell me and from what I feel.”

“You are right, I'm still in love with her. But it’s been a long time. I changed, she changed too.”

“Changes are good, I know it because it was hard for me to accept the real me, but I took that step because I wanted to be free,” Robin confesses, stopping Steve from giving up. “Talk. Try. You met again for a reason, don’t let that go to waste.” 

Steve nods. “What would I do without you?” He hugs Robin for a minute before hearing some voices in the hallway. He hears the front door open and close, which means you and Diana made it home. 

“You’ll be lost without me! Good luck, dingus.”

“Go get your girl, Steve!” 

Steve walks to your door and knocks, to his surprise, Diana opens the door. 

"Hi,” he says nervously. “Is she here?” 

“Yeah, she will be ready in five.”

"Alright,” Steve says, his hands clammy again, and he finds himself shaking. 

“So, you are the guy she has been talking about nonstop.” 

“I guess yes,” he replies, feeling his heart racing again. You’ve talked about him. 

“Good for you,” Diana says, before you step in. 

"Hi,” you say, looking at Steve again. You find this odd, but you are thanking whatever it was that brought him to you again. 

"Hi,” he replies, his gaze heavy on you as he takes everything in. Your soft voice, the sweet smell of your perfume. 

“Home by ten!” Diana jokes, making you laugh and shake off the anxiety that took over your body. 

You walk away from the apartments, with Steve by your side. He glances at him from time to time, and you do the same. 

“How was your shift?” you ask him, trying to get rid of the awkward feeling that washes over you again.

“I didn’t go. Too distracted for it,” he says, looking over at you as you walk to the parking lot. “How was your interview?”

"Good,” you sigh, not wanting to ramble about it at this moment. “I hope I get the job.”

“You will, you can do anything,” he says when you reach his car, noticing it looks the same way as before. 

Nothing has changed, just time. Everything feels the same, like it froze, letting time pass over it without a single consequence. 

Steve looks at you, his brows knit in a frown, and he is almost chewing his lip.

“If you want to ask something, just do it,” you say, making him shiver. “I know you, maybe not so well anymore, but I do.”

“What if your boyfriend sees us?” he asks.

A chuckle falls from your lips, shaking your head and pushing the hair out of your face.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,  he broke up with me yesterday, and I saw it coming. I’m over it.”

“Oh, do you want to talk about it? We can stay at home, i can leave you alone, and we can reschedule our dinner because i don’t want you to feel like you.”

“I’m still in love with you,” you interrupt, confessing. With a soft look in your eyes, Steve gets lost in them. “I’m sorry, I can't waste any more time. I need to get this out of me. I’ve been looking for you in everyone, everywhere. You are here, and you look the same, I know time has passed, but I believe my love for you has kept you exactly as I remember you.”

Steve doesn’t know what to do, the truth is, he has been waiting to hear those words for a long time. He has been waiting to see you, to hug you, and to kiss you.

“I’m still in love with you too,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, pushing his golden locks back. The sun is setting completely, and you can still see how it shines. “I never got over you, I was forced to move on because i felt like I didn’t deserve you. And I never wanted us to fall apart, I needed you all this time.”

He gets closer to you, his chest almost bumping into yours. He hesitates to kiss you in the moment, even to touch your hand. The setting reminds him of the last time he saw you, your last night at Hawkins.

“If you want, we can try to make up for the lost time and give it another try.”

“I’d love that.”

He gets closer now, with your confession turning into an invitation. Steve places both of his hands on your cheeks, rubbing the soft skin with his thumbs. It takes you back to that night, it feels like you are relieving that moment just to make it right this time.

“Baby-” he is so close to your lips, his words tingle your lips, and you never stop looking into his eyes. Those sweet brown eyes you missed so much.

“I’ve missed that, honey." He laughs at the nickname, but it still makes him shiver and smile like a little kid.

“And I’ve missed you, kiss, please?”

Steve nods, pressing his lips against yours. It’s a soft, slow kiss. You can feel the breeze of the cold night on your face as you flush when Steve leans his head to the side to trap your bottom lip between his lips to taste you. You close your eyes, savoring the moment. One thing you forgot and cried for every night was this.

His warm lips against yours, his taste. His hands squeeze your cheeks as you press your body against his.

It’s the first kiss since that night, two years have passed, and this still feels so familiar. So safe. The kiss is even sweeter thinking of all the time you’ve dreamed about this, of all the unspoken feelings you communicate to each other with everything your lips brush.

When air is needed, you lean your head back a bit. You giggle at the same time, and he places a kiss on your forehead. Happiness takes over you, it feels like floating.

“I still have that beanie baby, you know?”

“I do, Teddy.”

“Don’t call me that!” You hit his arm slightly, and he chuckles while rubbing his arm dramatically.

“It’s cute, it suits you,” he says, leaving a peck on your lips, resting his hands on your hips this time.

“It’s ridiculous!” You scrunch up your nose, and he leans in to smooth it off with a kiss. “Let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

“Only if my dessert is going to be this sweet girl, the universe got back to me,” he says, picking you up, his arms hugging your waist. You can feel your feet dangling in the air. You tangle your arms around his neck so you don’t fall when he spins you around.

“Yes, yes, I'll be your dessert!” You giggle as you feel his lips on your cheeks, and when he stops, you peck his soft cheeks back. “In which house?”

“Oh, I don’t know, it depends on how loud you are.”

“Stevie!” Your cheeks glow red, and he laughs at your sudden flushed face.

“I’m joking! we‘ll figure it out later." He doesn't stop hugging you, even when he puts you down, your feet are now touching the concrete of the parking lot.

“Which one?” you ask, teasingly. Trying to hold back the giggle that is about to escape your lips.

“Both!” Steve says.

You get back in his car, and he proposes the idea of repeating everything you did that last night but with a different ending. You find a nice diner, not as nice as the one outside Hawkins,but it does the job. The old jukebox is there to dance after you eat burgers and fries and you end up stealing his cherry again.

When he picks up the sun, you get up from the booth where you are sitting and run up to him. One of your arms rests around his neck, and the other hand is holding your hand. He interlocks his fingers with yours while his free hand sits on your waist. He pushes you to his chest, the closest he can get you to him, and you start to sway around the checkered floor of the diner. Dancing like nobody's watching, again.

“You are the best thing that’s ever been mine, baby." He sings along with the song before kissing you again.

“I’ve always been yours, honey”

This night is even more magical than the last one, and you’ll have tons of them.

tags: all @munsonology @emistrash @livsters @paybacksawitch @ali-r3n @keeksandgigz @babybatlover @fanfictionlover277353 / steve @stveharringtn @double-vision-in-a-rose-blush

please please reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! my ask is always open if you have any feedback. thank you so much for reading ♡

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

i like to imagine going out to a party or club or bar with steve and kissing him on the corner of his mouth or his cheek or jawline and saying that "youre leaving a mark on him" with your makeup, and he pretends it's annoying or silly or a fuss, but you know it isn't bc he's blushing a little bit and his ears are red and his face splits into a grin the moment youre done

i hope this okay. i didn’t exactly go with the vibe you wanted but this was a version 2. i could always rework my first version for a more soft reader personality. a mini blurb.

steve harrington x fem!reader

masterlist

💗

clubs felt like a safari at times. every guy and girl feeling like a predator to your prey, watchful and hungry eyes following your every move. worst when your boyfriend was looking as handsome as ever and fellow girls couldn’t steer away their gaze. biting their lips and cooling their looks seductively, fixing their bras and messing with their clothing.

it was killing your vibe in the bouncing club. narrowing your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest, you seethed silently at a tipsy girl standing way to close next to your steve. and you hustled into action once a manicured hand gripped steve’s bicep and laughed at nothing.

determined strides towards the bar you were able to hear steve’s response to whatever the girl was asking, “i’ve got a girlfriend, actually. she’s here with me.” that didn’t stop her from undressing him with her smudge eyeliner.

you tapped a finger to steve’s shoulder, he already had the same response spilling from his lips but then ended on a happy, “girlfriend!” when he turned around to see you staring the girl down.

“baby! sorry this is taking awhile.” steve wrapped his left arm behind your waist and pulled you close to his side. your own two circled his stomach and clung to him like a koala.

“it’s fine, stevie. who’s your… friend.” barely acknowledging the stranger who was equally eyeing you down with annoyance.

“amanda.” “don’t really care!” throwing a wide smile at her before pushing to your tiptoes and pressing a kiss onto steve’s cheek, dark red lipstick staining his skin.

steve looked at you with wide eyes before leaning down so he connected your mouths, a bruising kiss that slowly turned french making you dizzy in the hot club. his large hands caressing your hips and sliding up and down, both of you getting too bold for the pda.

you were the first to pull away, steve going in for another kiss before you had to push a finger to his pursed lips. smudges of red covering his mouth and chin. you bet your face wasn’t any better.

“what was that for?” a slight pant to steve’s words.

a slight raise to your brows with a cocky smile, “gotta show the girls that you’re a taken man.” before happily diving back in for a kiss.

“get a fucking room!”

[hotwritergf]

Eddie- Nah. I’m not in the mood for anything. The world’s completely fucked. I’m tired and I’m miserable and there’s nothing in this world that will ever make me feel whole and like life is worth living.

Steve- *Smiles at him and runs a hand through his hair and massages his scalp*

Eddie- I retract my statement.

[mimimunson]

steve always thought he was the more intelligent one in the relationship until he saw eddie solve dustin’s rubix cube whilst smoking a joint and holding a conversation with the kids.

[scarlet-bitch]

Her Perfume's Holding Me Ransom  

4k words, Office Siren - Steve Harrington X fem!reader, 18+, MDNI, set in '88 Steve aged up accordingly, no use of y/n & no physical descriptions apart from clothing/makeup, no mention of upside down. A/N: Recently watched Henry Gamble's Birthday Party, so had to piggy back off the dialogue from that opening scene! Fic inspo songs: No Control, Espresso, Bed Chem, Jackie & Wilson Feedback/likes/reblogs are all greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading & as always, I hope you enjoy! XO, Scarlet 💋

A year ago, Steve Harrington traded his Family Video vest for a blazer when his father hired him. The transition was rocky but with help from receptionist Shirley, he earned his father's respect and even his own office. Then Shirley announced her retirement, and in came her replacement: you. With cherry red lips and nails that matched, you strode into the office like a siren, and Steve wasn't immune to your charm. 

"Lost My Senses, I'm Defenseless"

Steve was always one to pride himself on his ability to stay focused, but you tested that the moment you walked through the door. You were the type of beautiful that prompted a double take. Pair that with your naturally sweet and helpful demeanor, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Every time he tried to concentrate on his work, you would appear at his door with another offer of assistance. While you were just doing your job, it was a tantalizing interruption. He suddenly found himself stumbling over tasks and struggling to concentrate, just like when he first started. 

Your arrival didn't just effect him, it had turned the heads of everyone. Suddenly the break room became reminiscent of high school, where the guys' suggestive remarks about you made his skin crawl.  The worst part? Sometimes he thought them too. Like every time you asked him questions, all he could focus on was the plumpness of your pouty lips and how pretty they would look wrapped around —fuck. He didn't want to be that guy, and yet these thoughts constantly crept into his mind.

But sometimes, an even worse thought would cross Steve's mind: that you were taunting him on purpose. Because yes, since your arrival, nearly everyone had focused on you, but it seemed like you were focused on him. That's ridiculous though, right? Of course, it is. He should be ashamed of himself for even entertaining the idea.

And yet, he kept going back to it.

Steve couldn't help but notice you made a habit of bending over when you were around him. Whether it was your cleavage or your backside, every day you were giving him a view. The first few times it happened, he looked away, but curiosity got the best of him when it began to feel more than coincidental. He hasn’t stopped since, often looking forward to it.

Every week when you handed him the new reports, he couldn't get over how you managed to make the exchange of a manila envelope seem seductive; batting your lashes, grazing his fingertips. You constantly had him rocking a semi, and it all felt calculated.

The biggest factor in it all was your fucking perfume. The lingering scent of warm vanilla would continue to flood his senses even when you returned to your desk. Your scent had him under a spell, making his mind wander to places it shouldn't: Your nails raking down his chest. You soothing the marks they'd leave behind with your kiss, lipstick print scattered across his skin. Your soft voice telling him he's doing a good job, just as you always do, but this time, you wouldn't be talking about work. Steve scolded himself for these thoughts, but only after he'd had his fist wrapped around his cock.

Three months had passed since you'd disrupted Steve's routine. The decline in his productivity was obvious. After a heated one sided argument, his father concluded, "I don't mean to be a hard ass, Steven, but there's no exceptions. If it were any other employee, I wouldn't let it slide! I just don't get it. You'd come so far... Maybe I underestimated Shirley's role in your success."

Steve couldn't admit to his dad that you were the real cause of his current predicament. If you were dating, or even fucking he'd feel less embarrassed but the thought of confessing that he'd let mere attraction derail his progress felt pathetic. In his entire life, no one had ever captured his attention like this. 

Steve knew he had to turn things around. He pinpointed the exact moment in every day that his focus goes off track: between 9:30 and 10a.m. When you made your first appearance, traipsing into his office with coffee.

While you delivered coffee to everyone -with them, it was a quick drop off. With Steve, it was never just about the coffee.

Your other check ins with him throughout the day were short and strictly work related, but this visit was always more personal and drawn out. It might have derailed his focus for the day, but it was also a highlight for him.

That’s why, as you walked in swaying your hips with coffee in your hand, Steve made sure to really take in the sight because it had to be the last time. 

“Mornin' Stevie,” you said, bending forward slightly, just enough to give him his favorite view as you placed the cup on his desk.

Steve sucked a breath in through gritted teeth. “Good morning.” He said, forcing his attention away from you and back on the paperwork on his desk.

You straightened up. “Did ya have a good weekend?” 

“It was alright,” he said, struggling to keep his eyes from drifting back to you. He stared at the paperwork in front of him. Focus. 

“Glad to hear it,” you replied.

Steve immediately regretted his choice of words. Normally, he would’ve engaged in conversation, the two of you exchanging playful banter with that slight undertone of flirtation that made his heart flutter. He thought it best to hold back today, but he didn’t mean to come off so cold.

“How ‘bout you?” he asked, looking back up at you. He couldn’t help it —if he was going to cut this moment short, he had to at least be present. And was he happy he did, you were just so pretty, his mouth fell slack, and he had to force it closed so he wouldn’t drool. 

“Yeah, good.” You said with a small, half smile. 

Steve felt his stomach drop at your answer -guess you’d taken the hint. He wished he had just let today play out as usual and given himself one last drawn out conversation with you. But he's come this far, might as well see it through. 

“That’s.. nice.” Nice? The word felt weak, insufficient. 

"Mhmm." You nodded, a hint of disappointment in your eyes. “Need help with anything particular this morning?” 

"Uh, no, I do-don't think so.” 

"Well if you think of anything, you know where to find me.” You said, as you turned on your heels to leave his office. 

As he watched you head out, it dawned on him that in his efforts to not let you derail his focus, he didn’t even thank you for the coffee. 

“Thanks, by the way!” he called out. 

You stopped in your tracks at the door, turning around with a smirk on your lips. "Alway’s my pleasure. Even when you’re... moody? Or whatever this is today." 

Steve couldn't contain the grin that spread across his lips. There was the banter that he adored. “Sorry. Just a bit distracted is all. These deadlines have me stressed.”

“Well, I could always help you relieve that stress if you’d like.” You leaned against the doorframe. 

Steve’s heart raced. Were you suggesting what he thought you were, or was that just wishful thinking? He could have sworn you winked, and the way you licked your lips —was his mind playing tricks? He hesitated to respond, undure what to say. 

“Y’know, take some of the workload off your hands, or I could always bring tea instead of coffee. It’s supposed to be calming or whatever.” 

Right, of course you weren’t suggesting anything else. 

Steve let out a slight chuckle, trying to play it cool. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just whining, but thank you.” He wanted to leave it at that, but you had just handed him a perfect opportunity to finalize his decision. “As for the tea, I um, yeah I-I think I just need to cut caffeine out entirely. It, uh, it makes me jittery. So going forward, you don’t need to bring me anything in the morning.”

You raised an eyebrow, “You sure?”

"Uh, yeah, for now at least." Steve noticed the amused look on your face, as if you could see right through his lie. You simply shook your head and strutted back to your desk.

He let out a relieved sigh -the hardest part was over. He moved to the window, flinging it open to dispel the sweetness of your presence that your fragrance left. Then he grabbed the "Please Do Not Disturb" sign Shirley had given him when he got his office. The thought of spending the rest of the day without seeing you was a blow, but he didn't have much of a choice. 

“Soft Skin & I Perfumed It For Ya" 

This wasn’t some grand scheme. You needed a job, and they were hiring. You had no idea it was his father’s company, let alone that he’d be working here.

It’s not like you ever knew him. If you recall correctly, there may have been a brief interaction at a party, but all you actually knew were the rumors. You attended Hawkins High's rival school, and at every away game in Hawkins, the talk was always about Steve Harrington. When you realized he would be your colleague, you decided to up the ante. After all, you're an opportunist —curious to find out if those rumors were true.

Now roles are reversed, and all the talk is about you. You don’t mind what anyone's saying -crude or not, you couldn’t blame them. You've brought a little spice to the mundane duties of clerical work. What you do mind is that, from what you could tell, Steve wasn't engaging. While it’s nice to think he’s above objectifying women, it’s exactly his attention you were after. 

As you settled into the office's routine, you realized that you did in fact have an effect on Steve. He was just good at concealing it. So you began to make your intentions more obvious: offering cheeky views, lingering touches, flirty banter. You wanted him, and you wanted him to know that. 

Earlier, you were a little more outright with your behavior than you ever had been. Truth be told, you'd almost offered to blow him right there, but you chose to be allusive.  And while the look on his face implied he knew exactly what you were getting at, you backtracked. Hindsight’s 20/20 and you regret not giving him a chance to respond. Maybe if you had, instead of daydreaming about it, you'd actually be experiencing his pretty eyes staring down at you while his oversized cock -if those rumors were true-  was hitting the back of your throat. You needed him.

But as you marched your way to his office, you were stopped in your tracks as you spotted his door shut with a "Please Do Not Disturb" sign —and it stayed there the whole damn day. 

So the next day as you strolled into work, you were on a mission. One that quickly got derailed when that god forsaken sign was once again on Steve's door. 

Later that morning, during your coffee deliveries, a light bulb went off when you reached Laura's desk. As you set her coffee down, you noticed the stack of folders with a note from Steve asking for her to work on them. 

"Laura, I have a pretty clear schedule. Why don't I take these off your hands?" you offered.

"Oh dear, that would be fantastic, if you wouldn't mind! I wasn't sure why he didn't ask you originally, Shirley always helped with this... not that I mind but I still have a whole other stack to go through for James.” 

While this was an absolutely self serving offer you were happy you could actually be of assistance. "Gladly! It's no trouble at all!" You expressed, whilst grabbing the folders, and heading back to your desk.

You could guess exactly why Steve didn't ask you. It was clear yesterday, when he was practically drooling, all flustered as he told you the caffeine’s getting to him. All of these things, as well as that damn sign that’s taken perch on his door were pretty good indicators that Steve was struggling to resist your temptation. You had him right where you wanted him.

"Maybe it's all in my head...."

Steve heard a knock at his door.

"Come in," he said, eyes still focused on the work in front of him. He looked up only when he heard the familiar click of your heels against the tile. There you were walking towards him carrying the stack of folders he gave Laura. 

"Hey..."

"Good afternoon," you replied smoothly, setting the folders on the edge of his desk and taking a seat across from him. You crossed your legs slowly, making Steve's eyes follow every movement. The flush on his cheeks was unmistakable as his eyes roamed your figure. 

"You alright, Steve?” 

"Oh yeah, I was just expecting Laura," 

You shrugged with a playful smile. "Well, here I am. Laura had a lot on her plate, so l took these off her hands." Leaning forward slightly, you rested your elbows on his desk. "Why didn't you ask me for help anyway?"

Steve shifted in his chair, tapping his pen nervously. "She's familiar with this. I wasn't sure if you were."

You leaned back, crossing your arms against your chest, making Steve's breath hitch as your position emphasized your breasts. "Have a little faith in me, Steve. Besides, I need to learn, and I'm best when I'm hands on," you said, drawing out the words with a whisper as your lips curled into a smirk.

Steve felt his cock hardening, he just couldn't help it, you were utterly arousing without even trying. Pull it together. He looked towards the folders, nodding. "I'll check them over."

"Great," you said, standing and smoothing out your skirt. "I'm gonna grab a snack. Want anything?"

"No, I'm good, thanks.” 

Steve studied the folders until your return, about five minutes later. He could have sworn he heard the click of the lock when you shut the door, but chose not to question it as took your seat across from him once more.

"So, how’d they look?" you asked, peeling the banana you got.

Steve glanced back down at the folder he was reviewing. "Yeah, everything's in order. Good job."

"See? You shouldn't doubt me.”

Steve laughed softly and looked up at you. "Never again-"

His words were cut off as you slowly brought the banana to your lips. He watched as you wrapped your lips around the fruit, holding eye contact. You let your lips rest for a moment, hollowing your cheeks with a slight suck before taking a bite. Steve's gaze moved from your mouth to your eyes, as a groan escaped him. 

You giggled, “Wanna taste?”

"You're unbelievable," Steve chuckled. "To think I've been questioning if this was all in my head."

You tossed the rest of the banana into the trash. "I thought I was being obvious enough. Didn't realize all I needed was a visual aid for you to catch on."

Steve shrugged, a wry smile on his lips. "I caught on weeks ago, just seemed too good to be true."

"It's not," you said, rising and moving toward him.

Steve's eyes widened as you dropped to your knees in front of him. A breathy moan escaping him as you settled between his legs, your hands resting gently on his thighs.

"Let me take care of you," you whispered seductively. "Relieve all that stress."

"Honey, you're the cause," Steve mused. "You've never even touched me, and I haven't been able to focus on anything but you. I can only imagine how distracted I'll be once you do."

You let out a laugh, the sweetest sound Steve had ever heard. "Mmm, quite the contrary. It's all this pent up tension we have that's got you so distracted.”

Goddammit. You looked so eager, so tempting as you bat your lashes at him. He cupped your face with his right hand, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. You opened your mouth slightly, and he couldn't resist sliding his thumb in to press flat against your tongue. You took a soft suck, and the guttural sound that escaped him only encouraged you. You hollowed your cheeks before slowly sliding off with a pop. Steve shuddered at the feeling, and a smirk settled on your face. 

Within an instant his hands moved to unbuckle his belt. You slid your right hand further up his thigh, moving it to palm the outline of his cock.

"Aghhh," he groaned as he went to unbutton his pants. Just before he could unzip them, the phone rang, startling both of you.

Steve glanced at the clock. "Fuck," he muttered. "What time was that call, today?" 

You put your palm over your mouth, giggling as you stumbled to stand up. "Now." 

Steve's hand went to pinch the bridge of his nose as he breathed in, trying to regain some composure before he answered. 

You leaned forward, whispering into his ear, ”Tell your daddy I said hi," and nipped his earlobe gently before turning toward the door.

Steve grabbed your wrist, turning you back to face him. 

“I think you're going to be the death of me." He groaned. 

“Oh Steve, you have no idea," you said with a wink as you walked out of his office.

"How You're Looking At Me, Yeah I Know What That Means" 

Your desk felt like a prison. The ache between your thighs unrelenting as you kept replaying the look on Steve's face when you sunk to your knees. You were plagued by the unfinished business, taunted by the tick of the clock moving slowly toward 5p.m.

At a quarter til 5, you saw Steve making his way toward your desk, casting a quick glance around the emptiness of the front of the office. 

“Hey,” he said. “Can I borrow you? I need some help with some... filing. Might keep you after a bit, if you don’t mind staying a little late.”

"Laura can't help?” You teased.

Steve chuckled, rolling his eyes before they locked back on yours. “This requires your.... expertise.” 

You raised an eyebrow, “Well if that's the case, I guess I can make it work."

Steve smirked as he stepped closer, the look in his eyes was clear —he was going to fuck you. "I promise it'll be worth your time.” He whispered. 

Without another word you stood up from your desk, and followed him to his office. 

"Are You Free Next Week? I Bet We'd Have Really Good Bed Chem" 

All bets were off when Steve closed his office door. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands gripped your waist as your mouths collided fervently.

His lips were soft and plush, his tongue teasing yours as you opened your mouth.

You tasted like the cherry life savers you kept at your desk, and Steve couldn't get enough. "Want you so fucking bad," He said between the breaths of your kiss.

You responded with a moan as his lips trailed across your jaw, burying his face in your neck. He groaned as the scent of your perfume enveloped him while he sucked softly at your skin.

You began tearing off his blazer, clawing at his dress shirt to grip his firm biceps, as his lips found yours again. 

When Steve pulled back, he was a sight to behold. Your lipstick smeared across his mouth, his eyes glistening —almost in tears from the strain of his cock. It was clear he needed this as much as you.

By next week the two of you will savor each other for hours. His lips will trail down your body, appreciating every inch. He'll have you writhing on his tongue as he tastes you, not just for your pleasure but for his own. His skin will bear the marks or your lipstick, love bites and scratches, as you stake your claim. You’ll take him into your mouth, where he will cum down your throat before he fucks you. When he finally slides into your pussy, he'll make you cum repeatedly on his cock until you can't take anymore, begging for him to fill you. Hair slicked with sweat, voices raspy and breaths panting, it will be nothing short of perfection. But this moment, here and now, with the slight implication that you could be caught, will be a fast, but fulfilling need for release. 

"Raincheck on-?" 

Steve cut you off, nodding profusely, "How do you want it?" 

"Take me from behind. Been dreaming of you bending me over that desk." 

Steve groaned pulling you into another kiss, before he moved you towards his desk. He pulled out a condom from his wallet, before he began to undo his pants. Your eyes trained on his hand's movements until he freed his cock, boxers and slacks falling around his knees.  

Steve chuckled when you let out a gasp. The rumors were true, Harrington's hung.

Thankful you'd opted for no tights today, you slid down your panties and turned to bend over the desk. Steve groaned at the view, your plaid skirt framing your ass as he spread you apart, taking in the sight of your dripping pussy. You looked more than ready for him, but he needed to be sure. He ran two fingers through your folds, gently pumping them into you.

You slapped your hand on the desk at the feeling, muffling the moans that were leaving you with your other hand. 

"Ahh shit," Steve growled. 

"Please, Steve, give it to me," you begged.

You didn't have to ask him twice. He rolled the condom over his cock, and lined himself up thrusting into you forcefully. He didn't offer you time to adjust but the initial pain quickly melted into pleasure. Steve couldn't contain himself, whispers of how good you felt falling from his tongue. 

"Harder Steve, harder, harder," you pleaded, trying your best to keep your voice to a whisper.

He obliged, his hands firm on your hips as he thrust relentlessly. After a few breathy moans from both of you, he slipped his right hand between you and the desk, fingers finding your clit.

You had to stifle a shriek at the dual stimulation, gripping the desk tightly, your ribs colliding with the wood, sure to leave bruises that you'd admire later. 

"Do you like that, baby?" Steve whispered.

"Yes," you moaned. "Fuck, yeah, yes, s'really like that."

"Fuuuuuck. Are ya free this weekend? Wanna take you out."

"Mhmm."

“Gonna fuck you properly after," he groaned. "You're so fucking beautiful, can't wait to see all of you.

His words brought you closer to your release, and he could feel it. "Fuck, baby, are you about to cum?"

"Y-yes."

"Me too," he whimpered.

"Sweet & Sour, Heart Devoured"

Turn’s out, you'd been right —it was all that pent up tension. After your first hookup, Steve’s focus immediately returned.

Your coffee exchanges resumed, but the drawn out moments were no longer necessary now that you were spending time together outside of work.

That "DND" sign was tucked away and forgotten until two months later, when he considered offering you a special birthday treat -an afternoon delight. But you both knew better than to hook up at work again.

At Thanksgiving, Steve and you stopped keeping your relationship to yourselves when he invited you to spend it with his family. You were apprehensive about his father's reaction, but it wasn't an issue. In truth, it wouldn't have mattered to Steve if it had been. Had his father disapproved, and insisted it couldn't continue, Steve would have quit without hesitation. 

Steve had fallen for you, and looking back, he realized it was inevitable. It took one glance for you to captivate his attention, so of course the more time spent together, he'd hand over his heart.

Now all the times you lay tangled in his sheets, your fingers running through his hair, and "Baby" softly falling from your lips —he reflects on the moment you agreed you'd be the death of him.

Because in those moments, he couldn’t think of a better way to go.

[blasvemous]

You can't tell me that this isn't Steve Harrington and his parents

[rustedhearts]

let it snow (70s!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: what happens when you're snowed in with your best friend (and there's a lot of sexual tension)?

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the only living boy in indiana ✶ christmas carols✶ the library

tags: fluff, mutual pining, best friend!steve

"oh, the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, and since we've no place to go: let it snow! let it snow! let it snow!"

— let it snow! let it snow! let it snow!, dean martin

somewhere in indiana. december, 1976.

“That snow’s really comin’ down,” Steve mused from his bedroom window.

You glanced up from your book, splayed on your stomach against his duvet. “It’ll be fine.”

Steve let his drape drop back into place over the window, frosted with ice and fogging with the heat from his radiator. He wandered back toward the bed, flopping beside you and jostling the mattress. You huffed into your current chapter.

“Not worried about missing your date tonight?”

You shrugged, flipping the page that you haven’t even read. “Eh. He’s kind of boring anyway."

"Well, yeah," Steve scoffed, twisting to lay on his back. The blankets bunched up with his shifting. "His name is Peter."

"Your name is Steve."

Steve's head snapped your way to sharpen his eyes in a glare. "Hey."

A slow, sideways smile plucked at your lips. You turned back to your book and stifled a giggle, though it burst free when his fingers poked your side.

"Wanna go in the basement? I need a light and Mom'll kill me if she smells it up here."

You closed your book around your finger and gazed at him over your shoulder. "They won't be home for hours."

"It lingers, sweetheart."

“Gross.” You scrunched up your nose and tried to ignore the pulsing ache in your chest. Bless the cold for keeping the heat from rushing to your face. “Don’t call me that.”

Steve rolled off the bed and to his feet, rushing the door and paying no mind to your distaste.

"C'mon, sweetheart," he called, already halfway down the hall. "We can dip into some of my dad's scotch."

So half an hour later, Steve was on his second Winston—the first stubbed out in the glass ashtray on the coffee table—and you were nursing a mug of scotch. Your mug had Santa on it, and you traced his beard with the edge of your nail as Steve fiddled with the stereo.

"Don't have any Christmas tunes," he'd muttered once you settled in the freezing cold basement. "But we can break out the winter music."

"And what do you consider 'winter music?'" you asked.

He lit up a Winston and clenched it between his teeth, already rifling through his baskets of vinyl. "Anything as cold and dreary as this damn town."

Now, Steve was bopping his hips to a jazzy tune found on a very old record from early high school. You remember the day he found it at the record store. It was during his "blue period," where all he wanted to listen to was jazz and blues.

You hid your grin behind another sip as Steve made finger guns toward the ceiling in time to the trumpet of the song, though a giggle burst forth into a gulp of scotch. His head snapped your way, one finger gun coming to pull his cigarette away.

"I hear your giggles, Miss. Grinch," he teased, swinging his leg over the back of the sofa to sit on the edge.

You swallowed down the pungent liquor, wincing when it stung. "I'm not a Grinch. I just don't like Christmas the same way you do, you know that."

Steve blew a cloud of smoke though his teeth. "Yeah, never understood that, by the way."

"Not for you to understand, Hair."

Steve narrowed his eyes at you, pointing the ashed end of his cigarette your way. "Don't call me that."

You quirked a brow, chin tipping up defiantly. "Or what?"

Steve cooly mouthed at his cigarette a moment more. He carefully slid down the back of the couch until he was seated near your socked feet, leaning forward to stub his second Winston out. As it died out in the mess of ash, Steve hooked his arm around your knees and yanked you close.

"Steve," you warned, voice knocked a pitch up. "Don't!"

It took everything in you not to spill your scotch as Steve's thin fingers prodded at your sides. He knew just what spots to press on, just where to squeeze and jiggle to have you twisting and writhing in a fit of laughter. The kind of laughter that had you aching with soreness. The kind of laughter that sent you back to infancy together.

Steve swooped the mug out of your hand and placed it on the coffee table before it could fall—but only so he could ignore your giggled protests to stop as the pair of you slipped off the couch. You tumbled to the hard floor together, a mess of limbs on concrete.

Soon, you were pinned under his heavy weight. His hands stopped tickling and rested stilly on your waist. They slipped under your sweater in the commotion, and now his palms braced your bare flesh without barrier. You could feel him between your legs—the sheer size of him, pushing your thighs apart and stretching them to sting. The outline of him pressed against his jeans.

The laughter subsided to breathless sighs. You gazed up at his pink-cheeked face, splotched with excitement. Your stomach was in your throat. The record stopped spinning some time ago, and now the empty scratch of needle turn crackled through the empty house. The end of your nose was frozen from the cold, but the rest of you was on fire pressed up against Steve.

Steve: your best friend.

"You're so soft," he whispered.

Your breath hitched. His thumb started to move in odd patterns under your shirt. You were suddenly and extremely aware of your hands around his arms—and how firm his biceps were under his sleeves. Every breath that touched your face smelled like Winston smoke. There was a tear in the rug underneath you and it was tickling your cheek.

"Th-thank you."

His thumbs continued. The breathing shallowed. The record spun on an empty track. His eyes were such a pretty color—or, an amalgamation of many colors all in one pretty iris.

You swallowed thickly, mouth suddenly dry. "I-I should go. Still...try to make my date."

Steve nodded, though he, too, was lost in your eyes. He never noticed how pretty the shape of your eyes were. How long and dainty the lashes were, how they brushed your cheeks with every blink. Did you know? Had you walked around with all this glorious beauty his entire life?

How could he have been so blind?

"Steve," you interrupted. "Get off me."

Steve scrambled to release you of his weight, rolling to his feet and brushing off his jeans. He helped you up—a gentle hand around your arm—and watched you grab your coat from the hook near the door. You've had that coat for years—the fur-lined collar and cuffed sleeves were full of lint and cat hair, and there was a button missing at the bottom.

While you were fishing for your gloves in the pockets, Steve moved the lace drapes over the back door and peered up the steps. There was about three feet of snow blocking the door, and as he watched, more piled over the staircase and across the yard.

"Uh...not sure you should go out in this," he announced.

You flicked your hair out of your face with mittened hands and huffed. "What?"

"The snow's pretty bad—"

"We live in Indiana, Steve. I've seen plenty of snow."

Steve dropped the snow and stepped away, arms folded over his chest. "Is Peter really worth getting stuck in a snowstorm?"

You cocked your foot out, mimicking his folded arms. "Maybe. He-he might be. I don't know."

It was the way his jaw tipped up at you, how his brows raised and nestled together, how his lip curled into a grin akin to the sixteen year old that never got told 'no.' It was the way your heart thumped in your ears with deafening force.

You weren't sure you could be around him right now. Not without wondering how his lips tasted. Not without wondering why he'd never told you he loved you.

"Really? What's his last name?"

"Good question. I'll ask him tonight." You rolled your eyes and whirled around, heading toward the basement steps.

If Steve wouldn't let you leave that way, you'd just go out the front.

"Hey—seriously, you're not going out in this."

"Oh yeah?" you huffed, stomping up the stairs. "Who's gonna stop me?"

A heavy arm hooked around your waist, knocking the air from your lungs with one quick pull. Steve hoisted you back down the steps, and it was only when he placed you back on your feet that you started kicking them. You got one good hit in the thigh before backing away to glare.

"What the hell is your issue?" you spat.

Steve threw his arms out—fucking Christ, his shoulders were broad. His hands were so big, and he had the prettiest pink flush to his face after all that play fighting and struggling.

"I'm not letting you go out in that."

It took everything in you to muster a squint and shoot it at him. You were sweating bullets in your buttoned-up coat.

"Well, I'm going."

Maybe you wanted him to grab you again. Maybe that's why you tried to push past him and dart up the stairs. Maybe you wanted to be chased, manhandled, held by those big, rough hands—Steve couldn't think of any other reason for your second attempt at escaping.

So, he snatched you up again. This time, you ended up dangling over his shoulder, and your feet were quicker to react this time. But your struggles were futile and adorable, and Steve chuckled when he brought you back to the cement floor and blocked off the stairs with a stiff body.

Once standing, you flicked your hair away again. Steve pushed his sweater sleeves up to his elbows. Cords of muscle flexed in his forearms—those strong, wide forearms. The scotch was starting to take effect. The room was getting smaller and hotter by the second, and you couldn't stop watching his lips grow pinker with heat.

"You have to stop touching me," you breathed out, so much softer than you wished it would sound. But you had no strength around Steve when he was at this proximity.

He pushed his hair out of his eyes, swallowing. He almost seemed in pain. "Then stop looking at me like that."

Your mouth ran dry. The room regained its frigidity in an instance. The sizzle of saliva down your throat passed between you.

"Like...like what?"

There was an ache growing in your chest that you were starting to resent. A hollow, weeping ache that squeezed with all its might when Steve looked down and shook his head.

"Nothing."

You watched him a moment. Scuff his shoes through the dirt on the floor. Wipe at his nose the way he does when he's nervous. Tuck his hands into his pockets and roll his shoulders. Meet your eyes only to duck away again.

"What if I...just go home?"

Steve scratched at the back of his neck, tousling his hair. "I'll-I'll walk you."

You nodded. "Okay."

Steve bundled in his coat and scarf, slipping on a pair of ratty old gloves before you pushed your way out the front door. Though you only lived a few houses down, it as a difficult trek. You had to hoist your legs with every step, kicking snow up the back of your jeans and under your coat. The wind whipped flurries at your face and numbed your mouth.

By the time you made it to your own front door, you were shivering and no less flustered than a few minutes ago. You turned around as you reached for the knob, finding Steve at the top step, waiting.

"Thanks for walking me."

Steve shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded. His smile was tight-lipped. "Sure."

You opened the door and slipped inside. Steve watched you kick the snow off your boots against the wall and shimmy your coat onto the hook. He watched you trudge to the steps and ascend them slowly, lost in the world of your own thoughts.

He stepped back and shuffled through the mound of white on your front lawn. He stopped in view of your bedroom window on the second floor, and watched the glass turn yellow in the lamplight. You passed in front of the window on your way to the bed.

Steve echoed a white breath into the air.

Maybe one day.

[oneforthemunny]

santa claus is comin' to town |janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader|

prompt: oliver's first christmas with you and eddie, since the adoption, is off to a not so great start. luckily, eddie knows exactly how to make both your spirits bright <3

read the entire janitor!eddie and teacher!reader series here!

contains: parents eddie and reader. oliver is adopted by you and eddie. past talk of parent trauma and neglect. a little angsty, a lot fluffy <3

“Ollie, look,” You nodded, pulling the young boy’s attention to the center of the mall, right outside the food court, settled in mounds of fake snow and twinkling snowflake lights was Santa’s Village. Children of all ages jumped with excitement, giddy at the chance to tell the man at the end perched on a red velvet throne, what they desperately wanted for Christmas. Their parents handing over wads of cash for a photo, a framed memory they could cherish for years. 

This was the first year you and Eddie would get the chance.

“Do you want to go see Santa?” You asked, grinning down at him with a smile so bright, it rivaled the lights around you. 

Oliver didn’t match your excitement. Instead he looked over solemnly, head shaking in a sad bob that had your stomach plummeting. “No, ‘s okay.” Oliver shrugged. 

You blinked, looking up at the lines. “It’s ok if you do.” You pressed gently, a soft smile to reassure him. He was still getting used to you and Eddie paying for everything, still skittish about it even after the judge made you his legal guardians. “I can go with you, if you want. I just want to make sure you tell Santa so he can get you what you want.” 

Oliver shook his head again, bottom lip jutting gently, small enough to have your face dropping in worry. “No, it’s ok.” He shook his head. “Santa never comes to my house anyways. I don’t think he knows about me, or he forgets.” 

“What do you mean, honey?” Your voice was strained with emotion, trying desperately to stay level, not to sound upset though your stomach was twisting in the most painful way. 

Oliver looked up at you through long, dark lashes. “He never came to my house.” He muttered, a tiny huff of a sigh that made you want to sob. “I’d always send him the letters at school, but he never came.” 

You felt every ounce of his disappointment, bore it heavy on your heart. Your throat constricted, unable to find the right words. What did you say to that? What could you say to make it better? You didn’t know, so instead you nodded, squeezing his hand gently, stopping for a cookie at the small corner kiosk and heading towards the music store Eddie was at. The once cheery, festive music felt mocking now, playing through the speakers. 

Eddie stood by the counter, strumming the newly repaired string of his guitar to test it. His face lit up, excited to show you how they’d fixed it, how much better it sounded now with a proper tune up. Instead, his smile fell. 

“Hey,” Eddie muttered, hand running over Oliver’s locks, ruffling them in an affectionate greeting that had him giggling. “What’s goin’ on?” 

You didn’t meet his gaze, swallowing the burning bile that rose in the back of your throat, eyes downcast towards Oliver. “Hey, you alright?” Eddie muttered, his hand touching yours, calloused thumb gliding across your knuckles. “Somethin’ happen?” 

“No,” He knew you were lying, your voice tight the way it was when something was wrong. “Did you get it fixed?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie frowned, scanning your features carefully. “Are you sure-” 

“-Can I go look at the CDs?” Oliver pointed towards the aisles of CDs, hand gently pulling yorus for attention. 

You nodded. “Stay towards the front, ok? Where we can see you. If you can’t see us-” 

“-Then you can’t see me.” Oliver grinned. “I will.” He chirped, giddily skipping over to the CDs. Somehow, his innocent happiness made your heart break more. 

“Hey, look at me, baby.” Eddie muttered, knuckle brushing under your chin lightly, pulling your gaze into his. “What’s’a matter? What’s wrong?” 

You pressed your lips together to stop the shake you felt coming. “I, uh, I asked Ollie if he wanted to see Santa. Tell him what he wanted for Christmas so we could get an idea for him.” Your gaze wandered to the small boy, on his tiptoes to flick through the CDs in the rock section- the ones he was starting to favor since listening with Eddie. 

“He said,” You swallowed, voice quivering with emotions that you were trying your best to keep in. “He said Santa never visited him, Eddie. He thinks he forgets him every year.” 

Eddie watched your face crumble, turning away to try and compose yourself. His own heart dropping. Rushes of his own childhood, the hope that maybe this year Santa would visit if he stole the Borden’s lights, threw them up on his roof instead so Santa could see. He even kept his light on so Santa would know he was home, but still, he never came. 

Until he stayed with Wayne. 

“Does he,” Eddie ducked, eyes cutting around the store. “He still, like, believes in him and all that?” 

You paused, brows furrowing lightly. “Yeah, I mean, I think he does-” 

“-I got it.” Eddie nodded, finality in his tone. “I got it, baby. Don’t worry.” 

“Ed, wait, just-” You stopped him, eyes cutting to Oliver. “You can’t make him, ok? If he doesn’t want to, then we should respect that.” 

“I’m not gonna make him, baby.” Eddie smiled softly. “I got it, ok. You trust me?” You nodded slowly. You did trust Eddie, in every way with everything. 

“Then let me handle this, alright? Don’t worry about it.” Eddie pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, squeezing your hip lovingly, walking back to the counter to gather his guitar. 

“Hey, Ollie, gotta ask you somethin’, little guy.” Eddie hummed, strumming his guitar, tongue poked out in concentration. 

Oliver was in front of him, mindlessly playing with his own action figures while Eddie practiced, flipping Spider-Man off the couch cushions and launching him over the coffee table with pure childlike imagination. “Yeah?” 

Eddie watched him carefully, trying to play it cool, easy- not to scare the kid. “Mama told me something,” The beloved name you’d adorned before the papers went through. Eddie had christened you with it happily, grinning at the way it made you gleam when he’d call you it. “Said you didn’t want to see Santa.” 

Oliver stopped, action figure hanging in midair, eyes wide like he’d been caught doing something wrong. “Yeah.” Oliver said quietly. Eddie knew he was trying to read his tone, see if he was mad or upset. 

Eddie smiled at him softly, playfully throwing a hand out to him. “Dude, why?” He grinned. “You gotta tell the big man what you want for Christmas.” 

Oliver’s head lowered, dragging the plastic feet of the superhero across the coffee table. “Santa doesn’t come to visit me.” He mumbled. “He never has.” 

Eddie tried not to let his face falter. He knew it was coming, and it still hurt. Instead, he tried to remember what Wayne said, exactly how he’d said it and convinced him years ago when he was in Ollie’s shoes, hurt and disappointed. 

“He didn’t?” Eddie cocked his head to the side. Oliver shook his head, face falling. “That’s weird.” Eddie quipped, lips twisting in thought. He could feel Oliver’s eyes on him curiously, he wanted to play it up for him. “You know, I bet you’re not registered.” 

Oliver blinked. “Registered?” 

“Yeah, your parents,” Eddie cringed at the mention. “You, uh, you have to register everyone to Santa. There’s a lot of kids in the world, and he can lose count sometimes. If you move or if you have more kids, anything, you gotta get them registered so he’ll know. Kinda like attendance, y’know?” It wasn’t nearly as smooth as when Wayne did it, much more rambling, but Oliver’s eyes lit up. 

“You do?” Oliver asked, setting Spider-Man down completely. 

“Oh, yeah.” Eddie nodded, setting his own guitar down on the stand. “I’ve been meaning to call anyways, make sure they were sending me a form down so I could let them know that you’re here now. Let me just call really quick.” 

Oliver followed him, close on Eddie’s heels into the kitchen, where you were cutting carrots for the soup. “Hey, babe,” Eddie called, opening the junk drawer by the sink. “Have you seen the phone book?” 

“The phone book?” You frowned, turning to look over your shoulder at them. “It should be under the coffee table.” 

“No, the one for the North Pole.” Eddie muttered, eyes lifting to yours, shooting you a wide eyed look. 

You paused, tracking his sharp side eyed glance to Oliver, who’s eyes were wide and hopeful, hanging on Eddie’s every word. “Oh,” You squeaked. “Um, I think I put it in the address book in my purse.” 

Eddie fumbled through the contents of your bag, swiping the floral printed contact book with a sloppy grin. “Ah, found it.” He muttered, tongue poking out when he thumbed through the names and numbers. 

“Can I see?” Oliver asked, rising on his tip-toes to look over the edge of the book. 

“Hey, no way, c’mon.” Eddie shook his head. “Santa only gives it to parents. So we can call when you’ve been bad, or when we move and stuff. Can’t give it out or he’ll be mad.” 

Oliver hesitated, scanning Eddie’s face carefully. He was a little suspect, but Eddie said it so confidently, it was hard not to be convinced- hell, you were convinced, listening with careful amusement from the kitchen. 

Eddie pulled the phone off the hook, dialing the number with a covered hand, winking over at Oliver playfully. The line rang and rang and rang, until-

“Hello?” 

“Hi, this is Eddie- sorry, Edward Munson.” Eddie said cheerfully into the phone, just like he would talking to a customer service rep. “I was needing to talk to someone about registering a new house to Santa’s route.” 

There was a pause, the rustling of the line on the other end. “Eddie, what the fuck- are you high?” Dustin Henderson’s confused voice rang from the other end. 

Eddie grinned, jaw clenching at annoyance he tried to hide. Thankfully, Oliver didn’t seem to notice, eyes shining with awe at the phone call. “Yeah, we were just needing to talk to someone about registering our house for Santa to stop at.” Eddie’s tone was clipped behind feigned cheerfulness. “We have Oliver living here now, and we wanted to get the form sent.” 

“Eddie, what-” Dustin laughed on the other end. “Are you messing with me? You’re messing with me.” 

“Yeah, just a second-” Eddie covered the phone, leaning towards Oliver. “Ollie, can you grab my wallet? By the bed?” 

Oliver nodded, scampering down the hall. Eddie waited before turning, cradling the phone close to his mouth. “Henderson, play the fuck along, ok? I told Oliver I was calling the North Pole.” 

Dustin laughed, a loud cackle of a laugh, full belly and entertained. “Why? What are you doing-” 

“-Because Santa has never visited him.” Eddie hissed lowly, ceasing Dustin’s laughter. “And I am trying to get the registration form just to make sure we get added on Santa’s route, so Santa will be sure to visit us this year.” Eddie’s tone lifted, changing instantly back to that cheery tone he had before when Oliver ran in. 

“Thanks, bud.” Eddie grinned, taking the wallet. “Just my license number?” He hummed, flicking it open. 

“Eddie, I’m-I’m sorry, man. I thought you were messin’ with me-” 

“-Yeah, it’s W23-016.” Eddie cut the other man off through gritted teeth. “And it’s Oliver Munson. He’s eight, and his new address is 172 Azalea Lane in Hawkins, Indiana.” 

The line was silent. “What do you want me to do here, Eddie? Like pretend-” 

“Yeah, if you can send the form here, that would be great.” Eddie fought back an eye roll. He should’ve called Steve. “And my wife wanted me to ask, can Oliver go see Santa now and tell him what he wants, or should he wait until after we mail the form back?” 

“Uh, now? Is that what you want me to say? Dude, why didn’t you call me before so I could prepare-” Dustin huffed. 

“Great. We’ll get that filled out, and we’ll go next weekend.” Eddie smiled over at Oliver, heart swelling with warmth over the irritation he felt. “Thanks so much for your help, Nog. Have a good one.” 

“Oh, wow, use my ninth grade dwarf name. Real mature-” Eddie didn’t wait to hear the rest of Dustin’s whining, slapping the phone on the receiver. 

Oliver was bouncing, practically exploding with anticipation and excitement. You thought your heart might burst at the sight. “They’re sending it over.” Eddie clapped his hands. “Told you it was easy, Ollie. They said you just have to sign something when it comes, and we can send it back off to the North Pole, and can go see Santa next week.” 

“Wow,” Oliver beamed, smiling at you. “Thank you.” He muttered, barreling into Eddie’s side, squeezing his thighs in a tight, loving hug.

“You’re welcome, bud.” Eddie smiled, patting his head affectionately. “Can you go put my guitar back in the garage? In the case, please? Make sure to fasten it.” 

Eddie waited until Oliver was running back into the living room to slide over to you. Your eyes shining with adoration, awe. “That was the sweetest thing I think I’ve ever seen, Ed.” You muttered, arms wrapping around his torso. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so in love with you in my whole life.” 

“C’mon,” Eddie blushed, rocking you gently, a half stepped sway. “Not gonna let the kid have a bad Christmas.” 

“How did- How did you even come up with that?” You blinked, chin resting against his chest. “That was genius.” 

“Well, gotta give credit to Wayne.” Eddie shrugged. “He, uh, he did it first. When I came to live with him the first time after my mom passed. Dad hadn’t got me a gift since she died, too fucked up to remember the whole Santa thing. So Wayne told me it was because he forgot to register my house after we moved. I believed it. Made me feel better thinkin’ my dad just forgot to register the house, instead of forgettin’ me, y’know?” Eddie muttered, voice dropping lowly. 

Your heart ached in the most uncomfortable way, squeezing him tighter into your chest. “It was sweet.” You whispered, arms circling around his waist, pressing a kiss to the soft fabric of his t-shirt, right over his heart. It made him flush with heat. “Thank you for that.” 

“Baby, do you have construction paper?” Eddie asked, sliding into your classroom. It was still early, the sun just barely lifting into the grayed Indiana morning sky, frost still fogging at the windows. 

“Um, in the cabinet in the red drawer.” You pointed to the arts and crafts area, neatly organized safety scissors and crayons tucked away. “What are you doing?” 

“I got this idea last night. Ollie’s real excited-” Eddie paused, scanning the classroom for the little boy. 

“He went down to the gym with Mrs. Bronski.” You waved it off lightly, passing out the morning activity papers to each of the spots. “Excited about what?” 

“Excited about Santa this weekend.” Eddie muttered, flipping through the stack of construction paper, shimmying out a sheet of red and green. “Anyways, I got this idea about making the form. I found these letter stamps and ink pads in the art room, asked Lois if I could borrow them and she’s letting me. I think it’d be better printed like that so it look more legit, ya know?” 

You beamed, smiling brightly under the fluorescent lights of the classroom, making Eddie’s heart skip. “Yeah, that’s- that’s really sweet, Ed.” 

Eddie paused, shoulder’s tensing slightly, that familiar wide eyed, scared look creeping into his features. “You- It’s stupid, isn’t it?” He asked, voice tight. “I, fuck- sorry- I just, I dunno I thought it would be cool. Better than… It doesn’t matter. That was too much, I’m sorry, I just got excited-” 

“Eddie, what?” You lifted a brow, tone steady and calm, like it always was when he’d spin out like this. “Ed, I think that’s a great idea. I think it’s really sweet, and I think Ollie will love it.” 

Eddie scanned your features, looking for any reason not to believe you- a quirk in your lips, a blink that felt off, anything. “Are you sure? It’s not… too much?” 

“You think I’d judge you for doing too much?” You tilt your head to the side playfully. “I’m jealous I didn’t think of it because it’s perfect, Eddie. All of it. You’re just,” Your breath hitched, heart fluttering at the sight of him. “You’re just a really good dad, and it makes me so inexplicably happy that I get to be with you. Watch you be a good dad, and a good husband, and just be with you. I’m so happy with you.”  

Eddie blushed, cheeks reddening at your words. If you weren’t in school, the looming threat of HR surrounding you, he’d push you up against the poster board, make out with you right there. 

“Thank you.” Eddie muttered instead, looking down at his work boots, cheeks burning with the praise. “I, uh, I- yeah, I feel the same way, y’know. About you, and you’re a good mom- the best mom.” You rolled your eyes bashfully, grabbing his hand, squeezing it softly. 

“Hey, lovebirds,” Steve grinned, head ducking in your doorway. Eddie rolled his eyes, scoffing with exasperation. “Gotta go get the kids. Do you want me to walk yours up too?” 

“No, I’ve got it.” You smile politely. “Thanks, Steve. I’ll be right there.” 

Eddie was already reaching for your lanyard of keys, dropping them in your hand, pressing a sweet, parting kiss to your cheek quickly. 

He worked tirelessly in his tiny janitor’s closet, pulling out a broken ruler to make sure it was lined correctly, taking breaks in between the lunch cleanup and fixing a ceiling light, until it was perfect. 

Oliver was thrilled when Eddie came home, the bright red paper in his hand. “Guess what came in the mail today, Ollie?” Eddie sang in a silly tone, a grin so wide and dazzling it made you want to melt. 

Oliver signed the dotted line with careful, slanted handwriting. You thought you were going to cry seeing him sign Oliver Munson beaming with pride at the last name that was all his now. 

Eddie snuck it back into your bedroom after going to “mail the letter back”, neatly laying it in your bedside drawer. That night, the two of you lied in bed, looking over every careful detail of the paper, your own prized possession. 

“How long did this take you?” You muttered, fingertip tracing over Oliver’s pen scrawled signature, lip trembling all over again. 

“Not too long,” Eddie’s chest rumbled under you, lips pressed into your hair, holding you against him as close as possible. “Worst part was trying to make sure I didn’t miss a letter or something. I started on green but fucked up Santa. Spelled Satan, so had to start over.” 

You laughed, a small, watery giggle that had Eddie’s grin on you tightening, an affectionate squeeze to your hip. “Yeah, that might have him confused.” You beam, head lolling back on Eddie’s shoulder to look up at him. “He was so excited though, I don’t think he would have cared.” 

Eddie’s lips curled in a soft smile, hand moving to cradle the back of your head, pulling you in for a sweet kiss- the kind that left your head reeling with devotion, letting him press you back into the pillows, body sliding on top of yours. 

“Wait,” You panted, tapping on his chest gently. 

Eddie frowned, rolling off of you. “‘M sorry. I thought you wanted to-” 

You placed the paper back in your bedside drawer, neatly tucking it under a book so it wouldn’t get crinkled. “I didn’t want it to rip.” You smiled softly, flicking off the lamp. 

Eddie could see your eyes, glowing with that devious hint that had his heart jumping with excitement. You crawled over him, legs straddling either side of his hips, your hands in his hair this time, pressing him into the pillow, pinning him with a feverish kiss that left him reeling.