#minor tommy hagan

[sarahmadisonxoxo]

This is a drabble from a story that I think I might want to flesh out into more. I have an idea where I could take it. I always really enjoy when stories give bits of the older characters still in high school. Seeing the dynamics play out before they became our beloved fruity four.  I’m open to any constructive criticism or suggestions anyone is willing to offer.    It was a stupid wish, something so cliché and absurd that she couldn’t even believe it had crossed her mind. There would be no reality with it being true. No one could hear the thoughts spiraling through her mind. Still she continued to kick herself for it. How much easier life would be if she could have just been a boy. What would she be like? Would the lack of experiences she’d had as a woman change her? Morphing her into an almost unrecognizable form. Would she be just like Steve Harrington? A boy who in the eyes of the people of Hawkins could do no wrong. Praised for his mistakes, rewarded for anything that could be argued provided growth to his person. No one seemed immune to his charms. Age was just a number. Sexuality didn’t seem to exist. It was entirely frustrating. An airheaded pretty boy with the world at his fingertips, capable of stranger things than anyone might ever believe. What gave him such power? How did he do it? Command enough favor to leave even the brightest, most bold and independent women swooning. This had nothing to do with her crush on Nancy Wheeler. Crush? Wait no… No, she had no crush on the Queen of Hawkins herself. Robin understood her place in the world, a wallflower that offered the illusion of people. A supposed faithful servant to those who ran the town. Nancy Wheeler. She sat only a space over from Robin in their English class, close enough that Robin could smell her perfume. Warm vanilla. Not the cheap vanilla that Robin could grab a bottle of at Melvalds. - No matter how she knew that information or that she knew Nancy’s signature scent was one of Coco Mademoiselle from the Chanel counter.- She definitely hadn’t considered spending the outrageous price tag on the bottle just so she could drown herself in it at home. So all of this might have been because she liked ms. unattainable. There was no point in admitting it to herself. Nancy was happily making heart eyes at the jerk, Steve, the happy couple going on a year at the end of the month. It was wrong to be so jealous. Not only did she have no shot in hell, but Steve actually seemed to make an effort for his and Nancy’s relationship. There were rumors that he was going to decorate the halls for their big day. Recruiting the art hall to create the decorations that would be hung to broadcast their year together. She was surprised he hadn’t come to recruit the band to play songs to serenade her highness as she graced the hallway Friday morning. Steve had been making his rounds through the school to set up his plans. She swears she even saw him talking to Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson the other day. If involved him, it must have been huge. The King dawning the door of the theater closet where Hellfire was held. Practically unheard of. Eddie had a thing for Steve almost as bad as she had it for Nancy. The two of them never properly spoke, Robin and Eddie, but she could just tell by the way Eddie looked at him. Eddie only dealt with the likes of Tommy Hagan and the rest of Steve’s friends, supplying the goods for their parties, because it earned him the presence of Steve. That cursed Harrington charm… Why couldn’t she just have a little piece of that? Robin loved being a girl for everything except it being the key piece that ensured she’d remain single forever. Girls loving other girls just wasn’t allowed in this holier than thou town. She’d be the town pariah for something she couldn’t control. Cast out to be ridiculed and harassed, disowned from her parents. Wishing she was straight… that she liked men instead of women. It gave her a sour taste in her mouth. Who she was interested in wasn’t the issue. She felt no shame in her sexuality. Sometimes she just wondered how much easier her life would be as a male. Robin knew she wasn’t the problem, but changing herself still felt easier than changing the minds of those around her. She just wanted a chance to live to the fullest extent, and just not feel like she was supposed to be hiding.

[steviewashere]

I am itching to write a frat boy Steve Harrington fic. Definitely modern day, no upside down, no supernatural elements. But not one where he desperately wants to leave it or he's being shunned by the other guys or where he feels like he doesn't fit in. Just one where he does stupid shit because it's funny to him.

He's got an estranged relationship with Tommy Hagan, another one of the frat boys. But they both ignite at the opportunity to get drunk, challenge each other to stupid bets (with no real reward), and party with people. Tommy's kind of a dick, but mostly a class clown kind of guy—doesn't do a whole lot of bullying, maybe some friendly teasing that sometimes goes a little too far (because he sucks at gauging his limit).

Steve's a reformed bully. He's learning to just sort of go with the flow, which is aided a lot by being loose and free and goofy and out-of-his-mind stupid at frat parties. He wants to meet as many different people as possible, maybe not become friends with all of them, but he wants to at least broaden his horizons.

He's buddies with a sorority girl named Nancy Wheeler (who also happens to be an ex-girlfriend, but that's water under the bridge), but she's not into partying—more into having a group of girls who want to see her succeed as a journalist (her sorority consists of her high school best friend, Barbara Holland, Tommy's girlfriend, Carol Perkins, a giddy cheerleader, Chrissy Cunningham, and a band geek who wants to be a conductor, Robin Buckley). I think he also becomes friends with Jonathan (although a bit reluctantly) through Nancy, and Argyle through Jonathan.

Steve becomes friends with Robin Buckley. Slowly, but surely. Adores her rambling conversations, which increase when she gets even the slightest bit tipsy with him (she never exceeds a few shots, and when he's with her, he doesn't drink more than that, either). She teases him without hurting his ego, unlike Tommy. He appreciates when she tells him that he's being a meathead, when he's out of his depth, when he's doing something even the slightest bit offensive. With her, he learns about his own sexuality (when she eventually comes out to him during a rather intense frat party—they had too much to drink this time, both loose-lipped and teetering). He learns to appreciate the more nerdy aspects of her, Nancy, and the rest of their sorority. Realizes he's more catty than he thought. Plays soccer with Robin on the weekends, though he sucks in comparison to when they play basketball together.

And through Robin, he meets somebody entirely new to him. Eddie Munson, a metalhead with a raspy voice and a cigarette addiction that Steve can get into, who charms in this weird flirtatious (though unintentional) teasing, who's beyond weird and dramatic, geeky with a touch of defensive. He's got a bite to him that Steve barks right back at, though never meanly. They get along like a house on fire, not a match, a house. Sure, sometimes they drink and party. But Eddie likes quieter things, despite his loud and boisterous personality. They smoke weed and sit on the roof and point out stars, or they talk for hours and hours until they both lose their voice, or they smoke and lay in the grass—absorbing one another's warmth without realizing.

It knocks Steve down, how much he learns to adore somebody like Eddie. Stirring something in him, something he's felt in his drunkest moments with Tommy. But with Eddie, he's completely sober. He's sober with intense emotion and want for a guy he's never expected to orbit around.

And, oddly enough, it's not Robin that tells him to go for it.

It's Tommy. He says something like, "Hey, we may not be best friends anymore, but I know what love looks like, man. And, y'know, considering all your past relationships, maybe it's time that you get something that makes you happy?" His voice is serious, unusually so. And Steve sort of clings to it, like a warm blanket on a camping trip. Tommy then adds something along the lines of, "Be stupid with me, Stevie-boy. Don't be stupid about your feelings. That gets you nowhere. And...I don't know this Eddie guy, not really, but there's something to him. Like a...one of those cloud things that Carol's always talking about—an aura? I could see him drawing you in before you had the chance to get his name."

Steve probably retorts with, "Shut up." And then blushes stupid about it. Because Tommy's never been wrong about these sort of things, no matter how much of an air cadet he can be. And he's also not wrong because when Robin first described to Steve who Eddie was, without giving a name initially, Steve was hooked like one of the fish he catches. (He goes on frat boy fishing trips and has a million photos in his phone of all the trout he's caught. Holds them up to the camera in that Straight Boy Way™️ (trademarked in case you can't see that on your dash), all proud as if the fish is his degree he's going out for.)

Also, I imagine that Steve goes to school to get a bachelor's degree in something like sports science? Or like physical education? Even something like family and human services?

So, line up of fields of study/options because now I want to come back to this:

-Nancy: Journalism -Robin: Music Education or Music Composition -Eddie: English or Music Production or Art -Steve: Sports Science or Physical Education or Family and Human Services -Tommy: Economics -Barb: English or Art History -Carol: Architecture -Chrissy: Special Education and American Sign Language (S.E. is typically a minor, but ASL is almost always a major) -Jonathan: Photography and Composition -Argyle: Neuroscience (I just feel it in my bones that he's like secretly crazy talented in sciences)

I can also think of some of the scenes being texting in group chats. And like with illustrations of Steve holding up his fish? God, my brain is on fire tonight.

[allyricas]

has anyone ever read a fic where tommy and carol refuse to just lose their friendship with steve, so they also get roped into everything. maybe not season 1, because both sides are still smarting from the fight. but season 2 rolls around and instead of tommy sidling up to billy, he and carol also abandon their moderate popularity to stop being assholes.

steve is a part of them. there's no tommy and carol without tommy and carol and steve. it's the three of them. and hell, if that means apologizing to nancy and jonathan than so be it. if it means, going over to nancy's the same day as steve where all three of them get intercepted by dustin fucking henderson than so be it.

when it means helping board up an old bus, tommy and carol stay. they stay when demodogs show up. they help the kids and steve. carol holds max's hand and doesn't let herself think too much about how nice it is to be helpful.

tommy and steve back to back fighting monsters. they way it should always be.

when it means standing up to billy because no one is laying a hand on steve nor on some random fucking kids, tommy takes a few punches. tommy and steve back to back fighting monsters, fighting unhinged teenage boys with rage issues-as long as he has carol and steve, things are okay. even billy cannot win two on one. no one gets any concussions. no teenagers end up driving stolen cars.

they all go into the tunnels. they help save the day and fuck, it feels good to be on the good side. it begrudgingly feels even better when they apologize to nancy and jon.

maybe in the end, it's not tommy and carol and steve anymore. because they have friends that aren't douchebags. yeah, a large amount of them are middle schoolers who are actually really fucking cool. even if its nancy wheeler. because, nancy is not a priss. she's actually a badass of epic proportions. jon's alright if he's quiet and a bit of a loner. and steve is steve. he's there between them where be belongs.

steve's decision to be a good guy ends up leading tommy and carol into choosing to be better too and they wouldn't have it anyother way.

eventually the three of them become four when robin buckley somehow seamlessly fits in with them like she'd always been there. eventually eddie munson finds his way in, too. tommy and carol aren't sure about sharing steve, but they aren't assholes (much) anymore. robin is actually snarky and witty in a way that carol enjoys immensely. eddie is cool which pains all of them, including robin, to admit out loud. he's like, genuinely funny and a little bit ridiculous in a way they can't help but like.

when tommy and carol notice that steve really, really likes eddie...they meddle a bit. because their boy deserves to be happy and loved and eddie looks at him like he hung the moon. they meddle when they notice the way robin gazes at nancy after she and jon amicably break up. robin is a goddamn delight and she's theirs too now, so they help steve make it happen.

just tommy and carol willing to do whatever it takes to make sure steve is in their life forever, okay.

[qprstobin]

Tommy makes a really convenient villain for fics, especially pre or post-Billy, but idk I always found it interesting that neither Steve or Tommy really? Do all that much? They never actually get very physical, Tommy actively is trying to stop Jonathan by the end of the fight because he thinks it's gone too far and all he does to Steve is push him against his car and then later makes some shitty comments about his gf while they are in the shower.

As a trio they do break Jonathan's camera (... arguably not a crazy response considering how illegal and invasive the pictures were, even if they ended up being useful to Nancy's investigation) and they graffiti the theater which is stupid, petty, and illegal but like, not that crazy compared to things I have seen people have them do in fics lol.

Like, the Party's bullies are more violent than the Tommy, Steve, and Carol trio with the quarry incident! Honestly the trio just seem to be vibing, partying, and verbally hating on everyone which still isn't great but again, it's interesting that they are kind of held up as boogeymen in the series and by fandom when they just straight up haven't actually done all that much unless something directly affected them (i.e. Steve and his girlfriend getting peeped at; Steve supposedly getting cheated on).

@spacebarrette pointed out to me that the way the trio are written is more similar to girl bullies than the typical jock male bullies which puts a lot of things into perspective, and also is honestly a more interesting take on pre-upside down Steve imo.

(Not trying to discount verbal abuse/bullying here, either, just saying people act like Steve and Tommy are beating people up and giving them swirlies left and right when like, mostly they just seem to heckle people and gossip.)

[tawneybel]

Note: Decided to repost this here, after posting my Vecna story on AO3. It’s from 2018 and my writing style’s changed a bit since then lol. Contains noncon, mind control, voyeurism, and oral.

Imagine Steve finding out Jonathan's a Peeping Tom and doing something about it. In front of you.

“So, why are we waiting by Jonathan Byers’s car again?”

Nicole shot you another sympathetic look. She’d been doing that since Steve came to escort you to the parking lot. At first you assumed he was going to be a nice guy and invite the missing kid’s brother to hang out. But the inclusion of the other three felt off. You knew for a fact Carol and Tommy thought Byers was a total dweeb. And you weren’t well-acquainted with Nicole but you got the impression that she never really liked Will’s older sibling, either.

The two lovebirds were engrossed in each other. Steve was resting his butt mock-casually on the hood of the Ford Galaxie 500. You tried not to look too confused as Nicole kept glancing at you like she expected you to start crying. Before anyone could answer your question the Ford’s owner appeared. 

“Hey, man,” your boyfriend greeted as he hopped to his feet.

“What’s going on?”

“That’s what I want to know,” you replied, hoping Jonathan found your tone jovial. “Nicole here was, uh, telling us about your work,” continued Steve. “We’ve heard great things,” Carol trilled and her boyfriend mockingly added, “Yeah, sounds cool.” 

“And we’d just love to take a look, you know-” Steve took a second to breathe out and give you a glance. “-as connoisseurs of art.” 

The hard look on his face as he finished speaking made your heartbeat faster. The other boy had fucked up somehow. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He tried to hurry to his car but Tommy snatched his backpack. Jonathan, you thought, what did youdraw?

You weren’t sure you wanted that question answered so you tried to ignore the conversation going on around you. If the others weren’t there you would’ve asked Steve if you could leave. 

“Oh, man.”

“Let me see.” Tommy was eager to find out what juiciness lay in the bag. “Dude.”

Oh, right, Nicole’s a photographer. Again you tried to tune out. You failed when you heard Steve say, “This is called stalking.” 

“Who was he stalking?” 

“You’re the starring lady.” Once those words left Tommy’s smiling lips your heart dropped. His girlfriend explained, “This creep was spying on us last night. Probably going to save this one for later.” Carol handed a photo to Nicole to pass to you.

Now the throbbing in your chest was almost painful as you realized you were holding a candid of the moment you lost your virginity. Your naked back was visible through the window as, off-camera, Steve ate you out. But there was no way anyone else here could know that, right? You just looked like you were undressing. 

“How? How could you…?” you demanded of Jonathan. Both of your hands were gripping the photograph and you were so tempted to rip it up. But you thought of how much more satisfying it would be to report him. Nicole wordlessly retrieved the picture and you subconsciously wiped your hands on the sleeves of your shirt, like that would clean your hands of the sleaziness. 

“See,” explained your boyfriend, “you can tell he knows it was wrong but that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hardwired into ‘em. You know, they just can’t help themselves.” You heard him angrily exhale again. “So at first I was thinking we just have to take away his toy.” 

“No, please-”

“But looking at ______, I think you really need it hammered in how much your sleazy shutterbugging hurt her.” 

That made you look up. It was kind of a strange thing for Steve to say. Sure, your moister-than-usual eyes made it clear you felt more victimized than the others. But again something about the situation felt odd. You expected Steve to start ripping up the photos but instead he let them fall to the ground. The other girls did likewise. 

“I think you need to know what it’s like to have your privacy violated,” your boyfriend decided as he reached forward to grab a handful of Jonathan’s crotch. 

“Steve.” 

Your gasp seemed to go unnoticed as the older Byers’s eyes bulged out. You looked over to Tommy, expecting him to ask what the hell was wrong with your man but he just chuckled. Carol’s mouth formed an O before morphing into a half-smile. The other half of those assembled were too shocked to wonder aloud what was wrong with the other three. It was starting to feel like one of your fantasies. The kind you were too ashamed of to write in a diary. Your beloved Steve Harrington had absolutely just groped a boy. In front of you. Foryou. 

Tommy made no effort to hide how much he was relishing this. “You can’t report that to anyone.”

As Steve’s hands shot out you thought for a split second that Jonathan was going to get felt up again. Instead, they took hold of the pitiable stalker’s head. You wondered if your honor’s defender was going to forcibly makeout with him but what happened next was much worse. Steve looked down at him with an uncharacteristically cruel smile before pushing Jonathan’s head down. If your hand hadn’t clamped itself over your mouth you would have gasped again. 

Jonathan was no longer too shocked to move as the stronger male attempted to force him to his knees. Just as the photographer started to shake himself out of your angry boyfriend’s grasp, Tommy strode forward and placed a sneaker-clad foot on the back of the eldest Byers’s head. He grimaced as his face was pressed against the bulge in Steve’s jeans. 

At that point you expected your boyfriend to let go. For Tommy to remove his foot and say, “Did you actually think you were going to have to suck his dick?” Even joking about whether or not Jon was hard was almost cruelty-free compared to a forced blowjob in front of four of your rapist’s friends. From where you were standing you couldn’t guess his state of arousal. You licked your lips. 

“You know, in that picture of ______ you took I’m giving her head.” There was no verbal response, only confused dread on the Byers boy’s face as he looked up at Steve. “Not sure if you realized what we were doing or not but I’m sure if I’d had her pressed naked against a glass door you would have gotten a snapshot of that.” 

“Steve.” The realization that the six of you were standing (or, in Jonathan’s case, kneeling) in a high school parking lot made your heart sink even lower. “The game’s about to start.”

“Who cares?” countered Tommy. “If I don’t get to see you get your pussy eaten by either of them, at least I get to see cocksucking involving Steve.” 

Why the hell would Tommy say that in front of the girl who had been his sweetheart since seventh grade? You looked over at her. Carol didn’t seem to mind. She looked like she was about to burst out laughing. You also found the situation absurd. Just not in a way that was remotely mirthful. 

Tommy: “Come on, ______, don’t you want to see this weirdo get his?”

You did a quick scan of the visible school property and were dismayed to see that no one else was taking notice of Jonathan Byers’s degradation. In fact, almost everyone else had cleared out. 

“Yes, but shouldn’t we tell a teache-?”

“Come on, ______,” Steve assured you. There was no malicious grin. He looked benevolent and sounded almost reasonable. Or at least he would have looked benevolent if his hand wasn’t already wrapped around his free erection. “He’s a pervert. He already knows what he did was wrong, now we just got to give him incentive not to do it again.” 

“He’s a pervert.” (“We.”)

What does that make you?

And, with your silence, Steve pushed his throbbing member into the candid photographer’s mouth. Tommy had since put his foot back on the asphalt. If someone had told you last night that Jonathan Byers would get the opportunity to blow Steve Harrington before you did…

Nicole turned to you, mouth hanging open, looking as uncomfortable as you felt. She was about to speak up but then looked down and stayed quiet. You were crossing and uncrossing your legs and rubbing your thighs together. Your eyes briefly skimmed across the debauchery in front of you. Jonathan didn’t seem to know how to orally pleasure anyone but that didn’t deter Steve, who was doing most of the work. Your boyfriend’s fingers were digging into the other boy’s scalp as he forced his thick appendage in as far as he could. Jonathan’s eyes looked blank as his aching jaw was thrust into. 

Would the owner of the gray Ford Galaxie 500 please be allowed to stop getting to third base against his will?

When you looked up you saw Tommy smiling at you. He chuckled at your awkwardly quirked lips. You wanted so badly for this just to be a wet dream. Later, you would think back to how you could have easily stopped this. Drawn attention to the fact you, Tommy, Carol, and maybe even Nicole were having a mental circlejerk in public. But at that moment you just continued pressing your thighs against each other. One hand wiped itself on the sleeve that covered your tattoo. 

“...that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hardwired into ‘em. You know, they just can’t help themselves.”

Your face felt like steam should be issuing from it. Despite that, it was a bit too cool out to be getting sweaty. Tommy went back to enjoying the sight of his friend violating a disliked classmate. As more of your cum dripped into your panties, your nose discharged blood. 

No one is ever going to bring up Jonathan Byers sucking Steve Harrington’s dick, you thought as the spunk of the latter dribbled down the former’s chin. 

Later, after you noticed that the wind hadn’t moved a single photograph off the ground, after you carefully slid the raciest shot back inside Jonathan’s bag, after you threw a handful of tissues at the poor bastard’s face before catching up with Steve (who helped clean up your face), after the stupid basketball game... 

You invited Steve to your place that night. For your second time, Steve managed to give you two orgasms while he was inside you and a third one with his fingers. Afterwards, as you lay in his arms, you wondered what Jonathan was doing.

[sadhours]

love letters

Billy hargrove x f!reader

Cw: 18+, minors dni, blackmail, oral (m receiving), fingering and unprotected p in v

This was kinktober but better late than never

💙❤️💜💛

He lays the letter on your dresser, a smug smirk on his face as he turns back to you. Hooks his thumb in his belt as he looks you up and down, like you’re something to eat. Wolfish is the only way you could describe it, and you’re little red riding hood.

“If I do this, you’ll leave it here, right?” you ask, voice as shaky as you feel. A mess of nerves.

Billy nods slowly, brings his thumb up to his lower lip and slides it across as he keeps looking at you like that.

It’s a love letter. One you’d written for Tommy Hagan. Billy snatched it from your binder in fourth period and read it. He laughed, stared right into your horrified, wide eyes and laughed. Then he wouldn’t give it back. Threatened to show Tommy and then worse, threatened to show Carol. And you know she’d kick your ass. So you begged. Said you’d do anything. You didn’t think he’d suggest this, though.

“Let’s get to it then. On your knees,” he tells you.

With a reluctant sigh, you obey and sink down to your knees in front of him. You’re anxious, knowing you have exactly three and half hours before your parents get home from work. Billy starts undoing his belt, gets it unbuckled and then pauses. He asks you, “What the hell do you see in that fag anyways?”

You’d really rather not further incriminate yourself. So you huff, “Can we just get this over with?”

“Nah,” Billy shakes his head, “Fess up.”

“I think he’s cute.”

Billy laughs, “That fucker? Really?”

“So what?” you reply, eyes narrowing.

“You don’t think I’m cute?” he asks, a sarcastic pout to his lips. He hears it all the time, you’re sure. Why the hell does he need to hear it from you?

“Everyone does. What’s your point?” you argue.

Billy shrugs, “Not as cute as Hagan. Okay, then. I get it. We don’t have the history. What did you say in the letter? You’ve had the hots for him since junior high?”

“Billy,” you groan, “I’d really just like to get on with this so I can get my letter back.”

“Fine,” he rolls his eyes and then gets started with the buttons on his jeans, “You’re such a brat.”

Once he’s done with the buttons, he pushes his briefs and jeans down his thighs and his cock springs out. You watch it bob up and down, shamefully a little— okay, a lot, intrigued. It’s thick and long. You haven’t seen one this size and now you’re really nervous. How are you gonna fit it in your mouth?

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “Bigger than Hagan’s.”

You raise an eyebrow, because how the heck would he know that? And Billy sees the look before he rolls his eyes again and says, “Oh, shut up. Locker room .”

You wonder if all the guys look at each other. You know you keep your eyes to the floor in the locker room but maybe it’s different for them.

“You seemed so eager. C’mon, now,” Billy says as he wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and points it down to you.

A sigh exits your lips as you prop yourself up a little taller and slowly wrap your lips around the head of him. It feels… strange. Heavy but in a good way. And warm, almost hot to the touch. It tastes interestingly salty. You give an experimental suck and Billy inhales sharply. Upon looking up, his eyes are on you and it makes you even more nervous. You tense up and swallow, around his cock.

Billy grunts and then tilts his head, “Relax, would ya?”

You pull off and look at him, drool connecting your lips to the head of his cock as you reply, “I’m trying.”

“Never done this before?” he asks, pushing your hair back.

Your face heats up, all kinds of embarrassed as he’s clocked you. Yeah, you’ve messed around with guys before. Not this, though. Mostly over the pants stuff and dry humping. You try not to think about how many girls have done this to Billy. Though since his arrival, you’ve heard rumors of about six.

“You haven’t, huh?” he strokes your forehead with his thumb and laughs, all soft this time. Doesn’t sound cruel. “That’s cute. Take your time, go slow. Just relax. It’ll come naturally, okay?”

You offer a nod before taking his tip back in your mouth. And he’s right because without being totally conscious of it, you swipe your tongue along the underside of his tip— along the ridge where it meets the rest of his cock. He hums, satisfied and strokes the top of your head. You take it as a good sign and take him a little deeper, keeping your tongue pressed to the underside of him.

The way he’s treating you now is a complete 180 of before. It’s almost… sweet? Romantic, even. You press your hands to his exposed thighs and try for more. But he hisses, presses his thumb to the middle of your forehead and tells you, “Teeth, watch your teeth.”

You know your face has to be pink from embarrassment but you listen to him. Now, much more aware of where your teeth are. Taking him an inch deeper, you blink up at him. Kind of waiting for more direction. And he gives it to you.

“Suck,” he suggests. “Go back up and down. Watch those teeth, use your tongue.”

You nod subtly as you pull back and then forward, sucking as hard as you can. Billy kisses again, “Gentle, we don’t gotta rush this, yeah?”

Closing your eyes, you repeat all his instructions in your head. You’re determined to make this good for him, make sure he doesn’t share the love letter. His eyelids flutter closed just as yours open, bobbing your head up and down languidly while you use your tongue as a barrier between his cock and your teeth. You suck him, much gentler and you keep your eyes trained on his face so you can learn from his expressions. His lower lip is caught between his teeth, eyelids closed softly while his brows knit closer together. The more you work, the wetter you get. Almost overwhelmingly so. You find yourself whining against the mouthful, squirming where you’re sat on your legs. Billy’s eyes open at that, peering down at you as his lips curl up.

“You like it, huh?” he slides his fingers through your hair and purrs, “That’s a good girl.”

That makes you feel weightless, pouring out more whines around his girthy cock. He exhales, a low grumble of sorts, “Fuck, feels good when you do that.”

You’re excited now, feeling all warm and fuzzy from pleasing him and you just want to do more. You try to take him deeper in your mouth but you gag, pulling off of him to catch your breath after coughing against the back of your wrist.

“You’re okay,” he tells you, scratching comfortingly against your scalp. “Breathe through your nose, yeah? Relax your throat, you can take me deeper, okay?”

With a little nod, you wrap your hand around his base again and try again. As deep as you can go, taking his advice and breathing through your nose and relaxing as much as you can. The weight is something else, the taste of his soft skin makes you moan against his shaft and he moans back through clenched teeth. You blink, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you work your lips up and down his hard cock. Your eyes meet his and the look of his are intoxicating, make you feel warm all over. His dark eyelashes frame the lustful gaze on you. God he’s pretty, so pretty you’ve completely forgotten about Tommy Hagan.

“That’s a good girl,” he repeats, expression on his face a lot more needy than before and it makes you feel powerful. You can’t believe you’re doing this to someone. Let alone Billy Hargrove. “That’s it… told ya, natural… yeah?”

You pull off of him abruptly, mirroring the desperation in your eyes as you squirm where you’re sat and you have no idea how to tell him this. That you’re feeling frustrated by how aroused this has made you. Billy’s smart though, smart in this kind of thing at least. He reaches for your arms and pulls you up, face an inch from yours. He cradles your jaw in his hands and kisses you. You make a shocked sound but ultimately melt into it, just as his hands wrap around your waist, squeezing your hips.

Billy’s tongue is warm and heavy as it slides past your lips and meets your own. He turns you both around, guides you to your bed and crawls on top of you without breaking the kiss. Billy kisses a lot more intensely than you’ve ever been kissed. There’s this urgency there and it’s much more sloppy than you’re used to. Lots of tongue and it’s making you feel dizzy. His cock rubs against your thigh as he licks into your mouth, causing you to gasp.

He pulls back from the kiss, looking down at you and it’s pretty intimidating. All this attention on you isn’t something you’ve experienced before and Billy’s hand hovers between your bodies.

“Can I touch you?” he asks but he doesn’t look nervous so you don’t know why he’s asking.

“Yes,” you reply, quickly.

He bares his teeth in a grin and they’re so white and straight. You blink rapidly, awaiting the feeling. Billy’s hand sinks into your waistband, into your underwear and his large hand cups your heat. You inhale sharply, eyes crossing a little bit and Billy actually laughs. You’d feel embarrassed but he slides his middle finger up through your slit, feeling just how wet you are and you moan loudly. His smile doesn’t falter, but he leans down to kiss your lips softly.

Muttering against them, “You really liked sucking me off, huh? You’re soaking wet, doll.”

You just nod, moaning out steadily as he continues dragging his finger up and down your slit. He misses the most sensitive part but you think he does it on purpose because while Billy’s acting very differently now, you know deep down he’s mean or at the very least, a brat. Your legs are shaking, bent at the knee as you spread them wider for him in a silent beg for him to do more yet he just keeps teasing. Eyes boring into yours as he continues stroking up and down, so slow. You whimper, wiggling your hips as you try to get him to give you what you want. He chuckles, low and maybe a little cruel, but he mostly sounds entertained. Like he’s enjoying this game, like he wants you to beg.

It’s confirmed when he moves his finger to where your thighs meet your pelvis and he pouts down at you, “Does baby want more?”

“Yes,” you plead at the opportunity, “Please, please, more!”

“So needy,” he shakes his head and smirks down at you, “Begging already.”

Billy leans down and licks against your lips, “Guess you have earned it, though.”

Just as he licks into your mouth, he pressed two firm fingertips against your clit and you’re impressed as he moves them in circles. It takes you some time on your own to find the right motions but Billy’s doing it instantly, like he just knows how. Your back arches, hands shooting up to grab onto his biceps as a lewd moan rips through you. He pushes the digits down to your entrance and he circles it, tantalizing you in a way that has your eyes rolling back. You’re unable to kiss back as he slips a thick finger inside of you, moaning gratefully against his mouth.

He hums, laughing softly as he pumps his finger in and out of you, “God, you’re tight… I’m gonna have to stretch you out before I can fit.”

“Fit?” you gasp, eyes wide as you look at him.

“Yeah,” he nudges his nose against yours, “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Like, you mean…” you swallow hard.

Billy nods, biting his lip as he looks at you, “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle, I know it’s your first time.”

“You do?” you ask, eyes crossing again as he slips in a second finger, slowly stretching you out like he promised.

He drops a kiss to your cheek, “Yeah, it was written all over your face when you saw my cock.”

The gentleness he’s giving you is such a stark difference to the Billy you know and god, it’s making your head swim. You feel special, that he wants you like this. That harsh exterior falling down and showing you this foreign and downright lovely side of him. You wrap your arms around his neck, rolling your hips up as you reply with a smile, “Okay.”

And Billy wasn’t outright asking, but it was like he was asking permission, in his own way. He leans down and kisses you again, curling his fingers and you get lost in the feeling of it all. The bliss his fingers deliver and the sweetness of his lips. Billy sure has a talent of making girls feel special…

After a while, he pulls his fingers out, nudges his nose against yours again and asks, voice all soft and pretty, “Think you’re ready?”

Nodding, you tighten your arms around his neck and he gives your nose a soft kiss before reaching his hands down and starts pulling your pants and underwear down. Kicks his boots and jeans off completely and then he’s on you again, kissing you slow and sensual. Kisses you the whole time he presses his cock to your entrance. It’s an odd feeling, but with his warming you up and the way he’s aroused you beyond belief, the tip slides in easily. You cry out at the sensation and he swallows it down, darts his tongue out to soothe you and drags it against your own.

You break the kiss as he sinks in deeper and shove your face against his neck. Billy’s so close to you, you can really smell his cologne. Musky, ambery and so wonderful. You can’t control yourself as your tongue rolls out to taste. He groans, his hips snapping forward and you yelp from the movement. He’s completely inside you now, and it burns. You grit your teeth, little whimpers falling from you.

“Sorry, sorry— I,” he laughs softly and kisses the side of your head, “I didn’t mean to do that…”

You did that to him, you think. You focus on that thought as you adjust to the feeling of him inside you. He keeps his hips still, keeps kissing the side of your head as his hand comes to your hip, and he squeezes it.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he tells you, rubbing his against your neck now.

“Billy…” you whisper, turning your head and he pulls back to look at you. He’s so pretty you feel dizzy.

“You okay?” he checks in, strokes his thumb against your cheekbone and you nod.

“You can move,” you tell him and he laughs, a sweet and soft one.

“Like this?” he rolls his hips gently and your eyes roll back before closing as a moan pours out of you. “That’s a yes.”

He does it again and again, watching your face react to the feel of him. Your legs spread further, your own hips rolling up to meet his and you open your eyes to watch him watch you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, sounds like he means it and now you’re a little in awe. Billy likes you. That’s why he took the letter, that’s why he did all of this. You’re flooded with emotion, you’ve never felt this wanted before, this important to a man. Tears form at your waterline and stream down your face and Billy’s hips still.

“You okay? Does it hurt?” he asks, looking all kinds of worried and you’re embarrassed you’re crying but you giggle and shake your head.

“Sorry, it feels good, I’m— I don’t know why I’m crying,” you confess and Billy smiles, strokes your hair and leans down to kiss you softly.

“Feels so good I made you cry?”

“Something like that,” you whisper and roll your hips, “Please, don’t stop.”

He picks up the pace, but as he does so, he locks his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. His hands move to push your top up and he caresses your breasts, fingers lightly graze against your perked nipple and he licks against your lip. You let him in, suck on his tongue as this intense pressure builds in the pit of your stomach. It’s so overwhelming, more tears spill from your eyes.

Then Billy reaches between your legs, fingers meeting your clit and he moves them in time with thrusts and it’s so much, too much and you’re shrieking against his mouth as the waves of your orgasm slam into you. Billy keeps his ministrations until you’re squirming around and breaking the kiss.

“Billy!! Ah!!”

“Cum for me, that’s it,” he purrs, “God, you look so fucking gorgeous, baby.”

You ride through it, Billy following short behind. Pulls out and spills his climax onto your stomach in thick, heavy spurts. He whines as he does it and you can’t help but think he’s the one who looks gorgeous.

He collapses beside you on the bed for a beat and sits up, glances around your room for something to clean up with. He finds a washcloth and you don’t say anything about it being for makeup as he cleans his spunk off your tummy. He gets dressed and you’re hit with sadness. Thinking he’s just gonna leave. But he pats your thigh and tells you, “Get dressed. I need a smoke.”

You giggle and listen to him and before you head out of the room, you grab the letter and rip it in half. Billy looks at you with a satisfied grin.

“Tommy who?”

“Tommy who,” you blush.

“You’re gonna have to write one for me now,” he kisses your cheek.

“I do.”

[wheneverfeasible]

The Beast With Two Backs

wc: 2.7k || rating: M || cw: infidelity/cheating, implied alcohol abuse, minor sexual content || ships: Steve/OMC, Steve/Eddie, Robin/Vickie (minor/side) || tags: Modern AU, College AU, no Upside Down, angst with a happy ending || ao3

Steve remembered, as a child, his mother warning him of the beast with two backs. She’d been drunk on the expensive champagne she had bought for her and his father’s ten year anniversary dinner. He was supposed to be going over to Tommy’s for the night after his father got home from work, except he had called off, saying he had some important paperwork he had to do.

Even Steve could hear the shrill laughter on the other side of the phone that his father barely tried to shush.

His mom had gotten a little too drunk to drive him to the Hagans’ now, and too drunk to call them and tell them that, so Steve did instead. He promised Tommy he’d see him tomorrow, but that his mom wasn’t feeling good. Tommy had been annoyed, but it was whatever. He needed to take care of his mom first. He promised he’d see him tomorrow though.

His mother was halfway through the bottle when she bemoaned the beast, warning Steve never to fall prey to it, to never become the beast that ruined a poor girl’s life. To never trap someone in a life they didn’t want because he wouldn’t ’wrap it up’.

It wasn’t until he was a little bit older and discovered how long a pregnancy took that he began wondering about the fact that his tenTh birthday was only five months after what should have been his parents’ ten year anniversary dinner.

When he became sexually active in high school, he always made certain to use rubbers, or found his partner’s pleasure in other ways. Later, after his falling out with Tommy and his new friendship with Robin, things got even better when he realized he could like boys too. There was no risk of pregnancy with most boys. Entering college opened a whole new ballpark for him.

It was where he met his boyfriend. He and Robin were working their part time job, where he’d met her, and his future boyfriend had strode in, caught sight of him in those ridiculous blue shorts, and the rest was history he supposed. The guy was ripped jeans and band tees and everything his parents would hate. Steve possibly fell in love at first sight.

It had been fantastic, at first. His boyfriend would serenade him, would take him out to bars and dance with him in public, and would promise to always love Steve.

And then Steve’s boyfriend made a new friend who he spoke to all the time through text messages he wouldn’t let Steve see. Suddenly, his boyfriend wasn’t around as often. Suddenly, his boyfriend started missing dates, calling to tell him he had coursework he had to do. There was never laughter at the other, but Steve’s insides squirmed.

His boyfriend told him he was being delusional. Paranoid. That there wasn’t anything to worry about. Steve had met the friend who touched his boyfriend in the way that his boyfriend always shook off when Steve did it. Steve’s boyfriend never called Steve his boyfriend when his friend was around.

He stopped repeating Steve’s “I love you”s at the end of their phone calls and texts.

Steve wanted to surprise his boyfriend, so he stopped by his room to drag him to dinner and maybe a movie. It wasn’t an anniversary or anything, but he wanted to reaffirm their relationship.

Instead, he saw the beast his mother had once warned him about, composed of his boyfriend and the friend he’d repeatedly been told not to worry about.

Eddie’s eyes were the first one to meet him from his position on top of Dennis, his dark eyes widening at the sudden appearance of an audience when Steve had entered his boyfriend’s unlocked dorm room. Eddie froze for a brief moment before he flushed bright red at being caught riding dick and scrambled off.

Dennis propped himself up on his bed and glared across at Steve. “Jesus fucking Christ, Steven, don’t you ever knock?” his boyfriend hissed at him.

Steve stared without blinking, his chest feeling caved in. Dennis wasn’t even apologetic. Eddie was looking back and forth between them with lowered brows, confusion radiating from him, prompting him to start looking for his clothing. He had a hard time telling them apart from Dennis’s always scattered on the floor.

“Baby, c’mon, don’t go,” Dennis crooned, but it wasn’t towards Steve. No, he was propped up on his elbow on the bed, dick still wet and hard, holding out a hand towards Eddie.

Baby.

Dennis used to call Steve that too.

Eddie glanced nervously at Steve. “It looks like your friend needs to talk to you,” he hesitated, and that snapped Steve at least partly out of his silent staring.

“Boyfriend,” he corrected.

“What!” Eddie squawked while Dennis let fly an expletive.

“I’m his boyfriend. Or…I was, until just right now.”

Dennis swore again. “Steve, babe, don’t do this,” he said, causing Eddie to fling his head around to gape at Dennis. “Look, we can work this out,” he wheedled, sitting up finally to hold his wiggling fingers out towards Steve. “You could join us,” he added with a purr that used to send Steve’s toes curling.

Now it only curdled his stomach.

“He was your boyfriend this whole time?” Eddie hissed, and he looked so disgusted with Dennis that Steve couldn’t even find it in himself to hate the guy. Hell, even if he had known about Steve, he couldn’t really hate the guy. After all, it was Steve’s boyfriend doing the cheating, not Eddie.

Dennis just scoffed, rolling his eyes, obviously trying to salvage the situation. “He’s a baby gay. It was never going to be serious. Not like you and me, baby,” he coaxed, reaching out to grab Eddie by the hip.

Eddie’s hand solidly met Dennis’s cheek, making Steve jump. “Find someone else to buy your weed from,” Eddie growled, and then he was shoving on clothes that may or may not belong to him and crashing through the door, sending Steve an agonized, apologizing look.

Steve finally blinked at Dennis, who was clutching his cheek and swearing a mile a minute, finally understanding his mother and wishing he had expensive champagne right now too. “Goodbye, Dennis. We’re through.”

Steve closed the door on his ex-boyfriend, ignoring his calls for Steve to wait and come back.

Robin helped him through the breakup, blocking Dennis’s number from both their phones and helping Steve file the paperwork to switch dorm rooms. Neither of them wanted him to be where Dennis could easily find it after the first night when Dennis had pounded on the door to be let in.

He crashed in her dorm, eating their weight in the ice cream they more or less stole from work, and watched the Bridget Jones’s Diary trilogy while getting drunk off of shitty wine coolers. Robin had told him it was a rite of passage for having your heart broken. He only let himself cry after she fell asleep, however, muffling the sounds so he wouldn’t disturb her.

He was given his new dorm assignment, told he was in luck because another guy was looking for a new situation as well, and he moved in that next weekend. He should have known that life wouldn’t make things easy for him, however. Because his new roommate? The guy currently unboxing his items as he settled into the new dorm with him?

It was Eddie.

It was…awkward. Eddie had been beside himself, apologizing over and over again and saying he’d talk to the office while putting his things back into his boxes. He wouldn’t look Steve in the eye.

Steve thought it would be easier if he hated Eddie, but he was just as much a victim in this as he was. It turned out that he and Dennis had been dating for a few months after matching on Grindr, starting out as a hookup and a weed deal, but Dennis wasn’t wanting to put any labels to anything yet. He had assured Eddie that he was single though, that Steve was just a friend who had an unfortunate crush on him.

Eddie didn’t know that Steve and Dennis had been boyfriends for over a year now.

Eddie had also blocked Dennis’s number.

It would be easier to hate Eddie, probably easier not to see him again either, but he told Eddie it was fine and that it wasn’t like Eddie had anywhere else to go at the moment, so they uncomfortably settled in together for the time being.

And Eddie wasn’t terrible. A little messy, sure, and he played his music too loudly, would work himself into rants about conformity and toxic masculinity and anything else that caught his attention, but…it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant.

Strange as it was, he and Eddie developed a sort of friendship. Robin had been hesitant about it, but all too soon she had been dragged into it as well, something she never had with Steve and Dennis, who never really liked her. Eventually, they all forgot that Eddie was going to look for a new place to stay, and soon they had become a trio as if they’d been friends all along.

Eddie called them “The Three Muskequeers” with a roaring laugh while Robin pelted him with popcorn during one of their weekly movie nights.

Steve secretly loved that laugh.

The more time that Steve and Eddie (and Robin) spent time together, the more Steve was starting to realize that he might secretly love more than just Eddie’s laugh. Though, by the way Robin stared at him sometimes with worry, maybe it wasn’t all that secret.

Steve wasn’t delusional. Eddie still met guys on Grindr, making them take up the sock system for the doorknob, and that was fine. Eddie didn’t seriously date anymore, only doing hookups. Steve knew he wasn’t Eddie’s type anyways. Knew that Eddie wouldn’t ever look at him and see anything other than the pathetic, jilted lover. It was fine.

At least, it was fine, until they went to the club one night and got drunk. Until Robin left with wide eyes following a beautiful girl who had a dorky grin looking like she came straight from a John Hughes film, her many braceleted hand holding tightly to Robin’s. Until it was just him and Eddie and booze and pounding music and the fact that Steve hadn’t been touched by a man since Dennis.

Until Steve found himself with his back pressed against the door of a bathroom stall, Eddie on his knees with his mouth around him as he stared up with his gorgeous brown eyes.

Steve, stumbling with his hand in Eddie’s into their dorm room, knew what this was. Things might be awkward in the morning, but he knew they could laugh it off. It was just a night of passion, of letting off steam. Eddie didn’t need to know about his unfortunate crush on him.

Eddie didn’t need to know that Steve was more in love with him than he had ever been in love with Dennis. Or anyone else for that matter.

In the morning, he feigned sleep as he felt Eddie carefully extricate himself from Steve’s bed. He listened to Eddie carefully dress, carefully leave their dorm room, and told himself that he was fine. When Eddie eventually came back, he’d pretend like it never happened. He’d pretend he didn’t know how Eddie tasted on his tongue, or the sound Eddie made when he sank into him, or the way Eddie felt like home.

He sat up in bed, head in his hands, trying to convince himself everything would be okay. He sat like that for a while.

And then the door jiggled open and he jerked his head up to see Eddie walking back in with his hands full of a familiar bright pink box and a drink carrier, a greasy white bag clenched between his teeth, and his eyes lighting up when he saw Steve.

“Stevie!” he exclaimed, or tried to with his mouth full. He kicked the door shut with his foot and moved to set the box and drink carrier down on the shared desk, spitting out the white bag from his teeth and setting that on top to spin around to face Steve again.

Eddie grinned, cupping Steve’s face in his hands and bringing him in for a surprising kiss. “I was hoping you were still asleep. I got breakfast! Donuts and breakfast sandwiches and coffee from that place you really like,” he said, still grinning, when he finally pulled away. He wiggled his brows. “I got Buckley’s favorite too for whenever she stumbles her way home,” he teased.

Steve stared up at Eddie with wide eyes, unable to process. “What?”

Eddie’s grin grew smaller, slowly sliding from his face, the light in his eyes dampening. “Oh, uh…shit,” he muttered to himself. He grabbed his hair to pull over his face, but instead of looking happily embarrassed like he normally did when he made that move, he looked withdrawn, awkward. Sad.

“You don’t…” Eddie gulped. “You didn’t mean anything by it,” he said as though slowly realizing something that was, Steve knew, absolutely not true. “Fuck. Shit. Sorry, man,” Eddie said, turning away as he wrapped his arms tightly around himself, hands clasping his shoulders. “I didn’t mean…uh…yeah. It’s fine. We’re still bros. It doesn’t have to mean anything. We can just forget it. Um. I’m gonna go…take a shower,” he finished in a mumble, moving swiftly to grab his shower caddy.

Steve felt his heart stutter in his chest. Hope blossomed warm in his chest, his belly, and before he knew it he was out of bed and grabbing Eddie by his arm before he could escape.

Eddie cringed away, ducking his head to hide his face in the curtain of his hair, and the smell of Steve’s favorite donut shop filled their small dorm. But even the best glazed donut would pale in comparison to the sweetness of Eddie’s lips when Steve pulled the other man back around, cupped his jaw, and showed Eddie just how much he didn’t want to forget last night.

Their breakfast sandwiches were cold by the time they got to them, their coffee too, but Steve didn’t care as he laid in bed with Eddie and licked the remnants of sugar and jelly from Eddie’s lips.

Later, when Robin stumbled in with a few new hickies and the pretty girl’s number in her phone, she didn’t even acknowledge that the two of them were still tangled up in Steve’s bed together—though thankfully showered and dressed—as she collapsed on to Eddie’s. It was only when she’d polished off one old fashioned and was reaching for another that she paused, took stock of the way they were wrapped on each other’s arms and holding hands, and let out an unholy shriek.

Her smile was radiant, however, her eyes bright, and though she told them point blank she wanted zero details, she also told them that she was happy for them. She teased them mercilessly, of course, at least until Steve teased right back when she was going to introduce the girl last night to them so they could become the Four Muskequeers.

Robin shrieked again, throwing a pillow at them, and Steve realized for the first time in a long time, he was utterly and truly happy.

Him and Eddie still had a lot to talk about, still had their insecurities to work through, but later Eddie had Steve watch as he scrubbed his Grindr account and then deleted his account, giving Steve the passcode to his phone as well. Steve of course did the same, and they tried to be as transparent as possible about who they were talking to without feeling attacked.

Eddie also loudly proclaimed how much he loved his boyfriend every chance he got, and now the sock on the door system was only used to keep Robin and Vickie from bursting into their dorm. Though, unfortunately for Robin, they sometimes forgot.

Years later, after they stood in front of their family and friends to declare themselves, when Steve stood from the table after the cake had been sliced and bellies were fed, Steve lifted his glass with a sly smile and in his speech thanked someone named Dennis, who unfortunately couldn’t make it though they had sent him an invitation, for introducing him to the love of his life.

Robin, Vickie, and Eddie all snorted with laughter, and when Eddie pulled him down for a grinning kiss, his lips tasted as sweet as ever.

~ ~ ~

Hostage hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[megxplryxb]

Let Me Show You…

King!Steve x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Fingering (F receiving)

Minors DNI - 18+

The school bell had gone a little over ten minutes ago, the seat beside yours still currently empty but you knew it wouldn’t be for much longer. Steve “The Hair” Harrington was always late to class, no apologies, no excuses, he’d just waltz in when he felt like it, taking his seat with a shit eating grin on his face. You’d been placed beside the “King” of Hawkins High at the back of the class, being forced to switch with Tommy Hagan two weeks ago when Mrs Click decided the two trouble makers were distracting each other and the rest of the students from their work and although you hated to admit it, sitting beside “King Steve” wasn’t so bad, he was extremely easy on the eyes after all.

Steve had always been flirty with you, especially since you had joined the cheer squad, cheering him and his teammates on while they played Basketball but he’d stepped up his game since being seated beside you in Click’s class. You’d done well to spurn his advances so far, knowing he’d been hanging out with Nancy Wheeler recently but that hadn’t stopped him from sweet talking you every chance he got.

The class had just started watching Romeo and Juliet when Tommy and Steve finally barged through the door, laughing loudly, earning a scowl from Mrs Click as they walked toward their seats in the darkness. “Mr Harrington, Mr Hagan, so nice of you to finally join us.” She said sarcastically as Tommy muttered something crude under his breath while Steve had already locked eyes with you, ignoring everyone else around him. “Hey princess, did you miss me?” He smirked, taking his seat as you tried to hide the smile that was forming on your lips.

“Don’t flatter yourself Harrington.” You replied, flicking your hair as he slouched into the chair, placing his backpack on the floor. You could smell the cigarettes on his breath while he tried to mask it with mint chewing gum but somehow the scent was still intoxicating because it was coming from him. Fuck, how was that possible?

As the rest of the class continued to watch the movie in silence, you could feel Steve’s eyes on you, admiring your new dress, ogling your sun kissed legs, moving up your body until they reached your cleavage. He wasn’t even trying to hide his lust for you.

“Wanna take a picture? It’ll last longer.” You tease, turning your head towards him confidently. Steve locks eye with you then, smirking as he leans closer to you.

“I think I’d rather the real thing, princess.” He admits as you clench your thighs, hoping he didn’t notice the effect he had on you.

You shake your head, trying to focus on the movie but you’ve got Steve’s full attention now and he knows he’s got you flustered already.

“C’mon sweetheart, I’m serious. When are you gonna let me take you out, huh?” He whispers.

“I can’t imagine Nancy would be too happy with you taking me out.” You reply, keeping your eyes on the screen at the top of the class.

“Who says she has to know? S’not like we’re exclusive anyway.” Steve shrugs carelessly.

“Oh really?” Your eyes widen with interest as he leans closer to you

“Yeah, really.”

“Hmm, even so, I think I’m busy.” You respond, faking a frown at the boy beside you as he presses his tongue to his cheek.

Steve can’t help but grin at your stubbornness, it’s a complete turn on for him and he can already feel his jeans tighten. He knows he can have any girl he wants at any time, but right now, he only wants you.

“That’s really too bad princess.” He sighs, pushing your pen off of the table and onto the floor with his elbow.

“And why is that?” You question raising a brow as he begins to lower his hand to the ground to pick up your pen but instead, you feel his fingers on your ankle, lightly running up the back of your leg before they move to the front of your knee and stop at the top of your thigh.

“Cause I think we both know I could give you the time of your life, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear as your breath hitches, cheeks immediately heating up.

You knew Steve was cocky, he’d proved it on more than one occasion but feeling you up in the middle of class? Shit, even you didn’t think he had the balls to do that.

“Steve, what if someone…”

“No one’s gonna see me do anything, honey. No one’s even paying attention to us, so why don’t you just sit back, relax and open those pretty legs for me yeah?” He squeezes your thigh as you nod a yes before giving him the access he so badly desired.

You do your best to hold back a small moan as Steve casually sneaks his hand between your thighs, his fingers running over your white lace panties as he looks straight to the top of the class, pretending to be focused on the movie. He closes his eyes for a split second, licking his lips as he feels the heat radiating from your core.

“Shit princess, can already feel how wet you are. S’that all from me, huh?” He questions but you’re unable to answer, unable to think. He hooks one finger into your underwear, pulling the soaked piece of fabric to the side before teasing your folds.

“Steve….” You groan, trying to remember to breathe as he smiles at you, almost teasingly.

“S’ok honey, m’gonna give you what you want.” He mutters, resting his chin on your shoulder as he slides his middle finger between your folds, gathering your slick before putting the slightest bit of pressure on your clit.

“Ohmygod..” You whimper, shutting your eyes as he circles your little bundle of nerves.

“So fuckin’ wet for me.” He whispers, revelling in the way you’re trying not to make a sound.

“Did you think about this, honey? About me touching you? You did, didn’t you? Dirty girl, my dirty fuckin’ girl” Steve groans proudly, finally pushing a finger inside your cunt and then another.

You bite your lip trying to hide a desperate moan as he moves his fingers achingly slow inside you. His dick throbs with how tight you feel and his brain almost turns to mush when he thinks about how his cock would feel buried deep in you.

“Steve please…”

“Please what, honey? What do you need, tell me?” He requests, his nose and chin moving up the side of your neck and jaw, pepping quick, teasing kisses along the way. You shut your eyes again in utter bliss once you’ve confirmed that no one has caught on to your little escapade at the back of the room.

“Fuck, I need….Need you to go faster.” You beg, your mouth making an “o” shape as he starts to quicken the pace inside you, immediately giving you what you want. “That feel better, huh? This what you needed?” He smirks, pumping his fingers harder and faster.

“Mhmm.” You reply, looking down at the tent in Steve’s jeans, mouth watering at the sight when you see him palming at himself, trying to get a hint of relief.

“Steve you’re ha..”

“I know honey, this is what you do to me. Fuck I get hard just looking at you. Get so distracted by you in your little cheerleading outfit, just wanna take you into the locker room and fuck you senseless after every game.” He admits as your thighs clench around his hand, feeling a familiar knot in your stomach. Steve wasn’t lying, he’d jerked himself off on more than one occasion after a game in the locker room shower, unable to wait until he got home, needing to release himself after watching you cheer. Hearing you yell his name sent lightening bolts straight to his cock and he could just imagine how you’d sound saying his name in the throws of passion.

“Oh god…I’m close.”

“Yeah? You like the idea of me fucking you honey? Like the idea of my cock filling you up? Could have you screaming my name.” Steve teases as your eyes begin to water. He knows your close, knows you’re barely hanging on to your senses, it isn’t his first rodeo after all. He can feel you tightening around him, his fingers completely soaked and you’re both thankful for the noise coming from the tv to cover the squelching sounds coming from your pussy.

“Steve, I’m gonna cum.” You whine, grabbing at his wrist while he rubs a thumb over your clit.

“That’s my good girl, you gonna cum all over my fingers? Gonna make a fucking mess, yeah? Come on princess, let go for me, I’ve got you, s’ok.” He says, grabbing your face lightly, begging you to look at him as you reach your climax, gushing all over his fingers.

“Holy shit, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Steve says, placing his forehead on yours, letting out a heavy breath as he slips his fingers out of your panties, placing the fabric back over your overly sensitive core as you try to fix yourself.

“That was amazing.” You sigh, trying to catch your breath, still comprehending what just happened when the bell rings, signalling the end of the class and you both jump apart before Mrs Click turns the lights back on.

Steve is the first of you to stand up, trying to hide his erection with a math book as pull your dress back down over your thighs. He doesn’t move until you give him the go ahead, letting him know you’re good.

“Guess I’ll see you around, princess.” He says, smiling at you as he begins to walk away, not expecting you to pull him back, guiding him towards the nearest restrooms. Steve just follows you in awe, mesmerised by the cheeky grin on your face.

“Wait, what are you…..”

“Can’t a girl repay the favour?” You smile sweetly as Steve nods in approval, swallowing hard. “Fuck yeah, she can.”

“Harrington! You coming man?” Tommy shouts over to where you were both standing, shaking his head when he sees the two of you giggling, hands all over each other as you lead him to the bathroom.

“Oh he’s coming alright.” You grin, dragging Steve into nearest cubicle, locking the door behind you before unzipping his pants.

[steddieunderdogfics]

two more fic recs for challenge monday 'fics with 6/6 chapters'

Tell Me Then Would You Lend A Hand? by funeralbeldam

Various States of Dress and Undress by orthographicsapphic

Tell Me Then Would You Lend A Hand? by funeralbeldam

Rating: E

12,159 words, 6/6 chapters

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Tags: Punk Steve Harrington, Slow Burn, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, mentions of robin/vickie, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Action/Adventure, Suicidal Ideation, Internalized Homophobia, Period-Typical Homophobia, Past Tommy Hagan/Steve Harrington, First Kiss, steve gets vecnae

Summary:

An exploration of Steve's trauma. How it affects his everyday life, opens him up to Vecna, and sends him on a path of self discovery as the world is ending. His relationships with his friends - most notably one Eddie Munson - and how he views his own self worth. How one man will tear down Steve's curtain to reveal the truth inside, through the power of music. Who says metalheads and jocks -turning-punks can't get along? Project #029 in the Steddie Big Bang 2023

______________________________________________________________

Various States of Dress and Undress by orthographicsapphic

Rating: M

25,323 words, 6/6 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Minor Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler, Everyone Is Gay, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Steve Harrington Wears a Crop Top, Steve Harrington in his slut era, Rocky Horror Picture Show References, Halloween Costumes, Shotgunning, Weed as gateway drug to gay sex, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Pining, Sharing Clothes, 5+1 Things, Renaissance Faires, Eventual Smut, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, Weddings, Steve Harrington Has a Praise Kink

Summary:

Steve Harrington is wearing his vest and looks so good that it knocks Eddie stupid. He feels jittery and giddy and suddenly like he shouldn’t leave Steve alone at all actually; he should get right up in his personal space and speak in long, rambling riddles that make Steve’s mouth twitch and eyebrows furrow, like he thinks Eddie’s funny but isn’t sure if he’s supposed to laugh. or, Five Times Steve Harrington's clothes send Eddie Munson into cardiac arrest, and One Time Eddie gets Steve back.

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks!

Thanks for the recs!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks!

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 29

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 28

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @userchai @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @bimbogorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, nightmares, crying, sexual assault/coercion, domestic violence, drug use, suicidal thoughts, vomit, angst/anxiety, swearing, smut, fluff, crying, angst, light arguing, co-dependence, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, mentions of sex toys, dirty talk, praise/degradation, squirting

Word Count: 14.1k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Part 29.1: Nights in White Satin

Wednesday, July 26th, 1989

"Where the hell is he?" You ask in annoyance, pacing back and forth across the living room carpet. You're biting the cuticle on your thumb, anxiously waiting for Murray Bauman to show up to your house. It's a few days after Eddie's birthday, and you've been on edge about this meeting all week. It's been distracting you at work, and you've been getting very little sleep the last couple days. Mass amounts of coffee and sugary snacks have been getting you through the day, stress eating definitely runs in the family.

You've got everyone in your corner gathered inside the house today. Mom, Dustin, Eddie, Robin, Steve, Nancy, and Jamie and Mr. Biggs from the theater. Harriet and the others are holding down the fort at work, allowing you the time to prepare for the trial. They're really only here in regards to the trial involving Tommy, they don't know anything about the situation between Jason and Chrissy and how you and Eddie got tangled up within it. But Murray mentioned on the phone that you needed to gather the witnesses who would be in your favor, who know of your character and what you may have told them about Tommy and his father harassing you.

"I'm sure he'll be here soon, sugarpuff. Why don't you sit down?" Mom pipes up, as everyone has been watching you pace for a good forty-five minutes.

"No. I'm good." You reply mindlessly, biting down harder on your thumb. You pull a piece of skin off of it with your teeth, causing the layer beneath to sting and bleed. "Fuck." You mutter, sucking on the fresh wound to relieve it.

"Sweetheart, you've gotta relax a little. The trials don't start for a month or two, it's not like you're going on the stand tomorrow." Eddie says, standing up from his seat to go to you. He puts himself in your way, placing his hands gently on your shoulders. You sigh loudly at him stopping you, dropping your hand away from your mouth.

"I know that, Eddie. But I can't help feeling like once it all starts, it's going to be an absolute shitshow." Eddie's about to dissuade your concerns, but you shake your head to stop him. "Both Jason and the Hagans can afford good lawyers. They're gonna tear us and Chrissy to pieces. They'll make it seem like we're lying, or we were 'asking for it'. And I'm terrified of having to deal with that in a room full of people. I'm terrified that I'll say one wrong thing and blow it." You sigh again, bringing your other thumb between your teeth now.

"Baby, you can't assume that it's all gonna go wrong, because then it definitely will. I'm sure this Bauman guy will show us all how to answer the questions and not screw it up. 'Kay?" Eddie speaks calmly to you, but his words provide little comfort. You're still catastrophizing inside your head, picturing the absolute worst case scenario. He's about to open his mouth to speak again, when the doorbell rings.

You leave his hold and go for the door. You open it to reveal a tall man with dark curly hair balding at the top, and a thick beard covering the lower half of his face. He's got silver aviator frames with brown-tinted lenses perched on his nose, and he's dressed in a tweed suit that fits a tad too large on his frame. He's holding a weather-beaten briefcase, and your nose crinkles at the bath of old cologne and strong aftershave he's drenched himself in.

"Ah, you must be Ms. Henderson! Sorry I'm late, I was looking for offensive graffiti!" Murray says with a light chuckle, pointing his thumb at the exterior of the house.

"Oh, they washed that off weeks ago." You reply awkwardly. This man is proving to be very strange right off the bat. Maybe this was a bad idea.

"Of course. Can I come in? Or would you prefer to get legal advice in your doorway?" He replies, smiling with all his teeth.

"Uh, yeah, sure." You say quickly, moving out of his way to let the man inside. He steps through the entryway, taking in the look of your home. He takes notice of the gathering of people in your living room, all of whom give him a curious once-over.

"My, my. You've certainly got a big family, Y/N." He jokes, laughing to himself again.

"Oh, no. They're一" You try to explain as you close the door, but he cuts you off.

"The witnesses. I know." He says, turning his head back to look at you. "They sure are quiet, though. That might prove to be a problem in court." He laughs yet again. What is this guy's deal? He's so serious, and yet not, all at the same time.

"Would you like a cup of coffee, Mr. Bauman?" Mom asks, getting up from her seat.

"Sure thing. You must be Y/N's....older sister." He says in a somewhat flirtatious tone.

"Oh, no. I'm her mother, Claudia." Mom replies with a bashful giggle. A light blush colors her cheeks, and you immediately feel nauseated.

"Well, I can certainly see the resemblance. And I'll take milk and sugar in that coffee, if you don't mind." Murray replies with a grin, and Mom toddles off to the kitchen to fix the man his drink. He turns to you and Eddie now, giving him an unsubtle look up and down. "I take it you're the boyfriend?" He asks.

"Yeah. Uh, Eddie. Nice to meet you." Eddie answers, sticking out his hand to shake Murray's. But Murray doesn't extend his own forward, so he quickly drops it back to his side. He awkwardly slides his hand into his pocket, attempting to mask the hurt at the rejection.

"Right. Well, I think we'd better get started. We're already cutting it pretty close for the day, and we've got a shitload of work to do. Pardon my french." Murray says, looking around for a spot to sit. The couch is taken, as are the armchairs and recliner. He notices the dining room, going there for a moment to retrieve a chair from the table. He sets it across from your friends and coworkers, sitting down and crossing one leg over the other. He sets his briefcase on his lap, clicking the locks open to prepare himself.

"Where do we start?" You ask, taking a seat in Eddie's lap once he returns to his spot on the end of the couch. Murray pulls out some papers from his case, shuffling them around messily before looking up to answer your question. His eyes narrow at your choice of seating, but you aren't really sure why. It seems Eddie hasn't made a very good impression on the man, but he hasn't done anything to put him off. You hope not, anyway, since he's representing both of you.

"We start...at the beginning. And I mean the very beginning. I'm going to need every nasty little detail of your past relationship with..." He consults his papers for the name of the defendant. "...Mr. Tommy Hagan." Just hearing Tommy's name from Murray's mouth makes you shudder. This is gonna be a nightmare, you think to yourself while contemplating where to begin.

"Oh. Well, um..." You pause, wondering if it's a good idea for everyone sitting quietly in the room to hear you recount your regrettable bout of 'Tommy Fever'. The whole thing was a steaming hot pile of shit, and you'd love nothing more than to completely forget about it.

"Today, Ms. Henderson." Murray pushes, reaching inside his briefcase again for a notepad and a pen.

"Can you relax a little, man?" Eddie retorts, going on the defensive on your behalf. Murray's eyes meet his for a moment, as if to challenge your boyfriend. But Eddie doesn't back down, he'll defend your dignity to the ends of the earth against anyone that dares to disrespect you.

"Okay!" Murray says loudly after a solid minute of the two men staring one another down. "Look, I get it. You're the bad boy with a heart of gold, right? Defending your lady's honor...the whole protective teddy bear thing? It's real cute, I'm sure Y/N digs the hell outta that." He speaks snidely, which makes Eddie scoff. "But...I am here to provide legal counsel. Highly discounted legal counsel, at that, as a favor to Chief Powell. So, I have no time for chest-puffing, or anxious apprehension. M'Kay? The defense lawyers for the little shits you've managed to piss off are fierce. And they will do everything in their power to pick apart every single claim you have against them." The man gestures wildly as he speaks, hoping to God you'll understand how dire this situation really is. "Now, I suggest we stop stalling and get some goddamn work done! Sound good?" He finishes, looking between you and Eddie to draw some gesture of agreement from you.

"Yes, sir." You reply sheepishly, allowing the man to do his job.

"Great! Now, tell me all about Tommy." He says, clicking his pen. Mom returns with his coffee, handing off the mug to him. He takes a long sip, making a satisfied 'ah' sound after he swallows. He puts the mug onto the coffee table in front of him, still waiting for you to begin.

You proceed to tell Mr. Bauman everything about your ex. How you started dating, the behavior he exhibited towards you, how it all ended so terribly. Your voice shakes often as you speak. Talking about any of this makes every moment, past and present, swirl together like a sickly stew inside your mind. Eddie rubs subtle circles on your thigh with his hand to soothe you through this ordeal. Murray's eyes flick to Eddie's fingers on you every so often, he finds your glaring co-dependence rather annoying. Not only that, it could pose a few potential challenges in court.

Everyone else in the room is very quiet, respecting your time to tell these uncomfortable stories. Murray writes down every relevant detail, and he surprisingly leads you through the questions in a relatively gentle manner. Despite his initially abrasive attitude, he does take genuine care and interest in helping you out. You eventually finish with recounting the events of the Hagans vandalizing your home, which unfortunately lets everyone in on what you were up to before Tommy threw the brick through your window.

"Jesus, Y/N. I'm so sorry." Robin says, breaking the silence once you've stopped talking. A couple of tears have fallen from your eyes during this, though you hadn't noticed them until now. The others murmur sympathetic affirmation of Robin's words. They truly feel for you, nobody should have to be subjected to what you've been through.

"As are we all. Now, unfortunately, all of this is definitely going to be twisted against you. We'll prepare for all that later on, I just need details of what everyone knows for the time being." Murray sighs, realizing just how much work he has cut out for himself. He takes another long drink of coffee, making that same satisfied noise once he swallows. "So, who's next?"

One by one, your gathered witnesses give Murray every possible detail to help your case. It takes a few hours, with Murray's coffee cup being refilled multiple times throughout the process. Nobody else bothers to ask for anything, they'd hate to have your mother running herself ragged. You snuggle further into Eddie as time passes, and by the end of it, everyone is tired and starving. You order some pizzas to thank everyone for being so helpful, and you all take a small mental rest to talk amongst yourselves and relax. The energy up until this point has been tense, mixed emotions clogging up the airflow in the room. But thankfully, you're finally able to breathe again.

"Well, I'd say we've had a very productive day." Murray says once all your friends leave. It's just the five of you now, and Bauman is putting his notes away in his briefcase.

"Yeah. I guess." You shrug, about ready to pass out in Eddie's arms. This afternoon has taken so much out of you, and this is only the beginning of a long, awful process.

"I know it's a lot, Y/N. But we've got to do the work if we're going to win this thing. We also have to do your witness work for the Carver case, but I'll leave that for another day. Right now, though, I've got a motel room and a bottle of Russian vodka waiting for me." He replies as he stands, brushing pizza crumbs off of his lap.

"I appreciate the help, Mr. Bauman." You say, getting up to walk him out. Eddie joins you on your feet, but stays by the couch.

"Please, call me Murray. Mr. Bauman is my mother!" He laughs at his own odd joke.

"Sure, Murray. We'll see you tomorrow." You reply, opening the door for him to leave. He nods, and steps out into the muggy night and walks toward his car. It's a small step above a total piece of junk, corroded paint, rusted rims and all. You close the door again, leaning against it while letting out a deep sigh.

"Well, he's...something." Eddie says with an awkward chuckle.

"I think he was very nice. I'm sure he'll be a great help." Mom chimes in, seemingly a little bit smitten with the man. Jesus, Mom. Not my fucking lawyer, you think to yourself.

"He didn’t seem to like me very much." Eddie adds, almost mumbling. He usually doesn't give a shit what others think of him, but it felt wrong to make a bad impression this time.

"He just doesn't know you like I do, love. Don't worry about him, he'll come around." You say, going to Eddie to reassure him. He nods silently, and you give him a light peck. "Ugh, I really don't wanna do this all over again tomorrow. And who knows how many more days after that. And then the trial...it all feels like too much." You try your best not to pout as you speak, but the mere thought of having Murray drill you with questions and prep you for the cross-examination makes you want to give up entirely. You know that you can't do that, but your lives would be far less difficult if you just dropped the charges.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to think about all that right now. You've done enough worrying for one day, you need to get some sleep." Eddie says softly, pulling you closer to wrap his arms around you. You lay your head on his chest, your eyes slipping closed as you enjoy his warmth.

"It'll be alright, Y/N. You've got us, and the club, and all our friends standing behind you. You're far from alone in this." Dustin says.

"We've got your back, sugarpuff." Claudia adds.

"I'm so lucky to have the best family ever." You extend one of your arms out for Mom and Dustin to join your hug, needing to feel them close to you. They don't hesitate to do so, fully covering you in a kind embrace of love and support. A few more tears escape your eyes, ones of relief as opposed to pain and fear this time. "I love you all so much. I don't know what I'd do without you." You sniffle.

"We love you too, princess. And we're always gonna be here for you. No matter what happens." Eddie coos, gently stroking your hair.

You all separate from your group hug a couple minutes later, retiring to your respective rooms for the night. You and Eddie cuddle Arwen for a little while, and he pulls out the book he's been reading to you for the last few days. Another Stephen King classic, The Dead Zone. You do your best to stay conscious for at least a chapter or two, but it's a struggle to hear a single word he says at a certain point. Eddie takes notice of this, closing the book and carefully getting out of bed to flick off the light. He returns to you, gingerly moving your body so he can spoon you. You let out a couple sleepy sounds, moments away from falling into the deep pit of sleep that's been waiting for you. He plants a tender kiss to your neck, and closes his own eyes as you drift away. As one can easily predict, nightmares plague your mind as you sleep. A constant barrage of all your fears and anxieties playing out in your subconscious.

"Mornin', sweet thing." You hear a voice rasp in your ear. You stir from your sleep, feeling a warm body snuggling up to you beneath the covers. Silk sheets slip around under you, and your bed feels far too large. You roll over, wondering where you are. You blink your eyes open, and find that you're in bed with Tommy. He's dressed only in some boxers, and you are completely naked. "There you are, babygirl. I was wondering how long I'd have to wait." He smirks, putting himself above you. 

What is this? Where's Eddie?, you think to yourself. You don't say anything, too afraid of what might happen if you start asking questions. The look on Tommy's face is odd, like he's far too happy to see you awake. He slips a hand below the covers, and he starts touching various parts of your body. You flinch at his hands on your flesh, it feels so wrong. Your hands meet his chest, and you're about to push him off. That is, until you notice the massive diamond ring sitting on your left hand. 

"No..." You murmur, examining the glistening jewel in the low morning light coming through the massive window to the right of you. This can't be happening.

"I'm afraid you don't get to use that word with me, Y/N. You're mine, and I can touch you whenever, and however, I want." Tommy says viciously, squeezing your breast harshly in his grip. He's so rough, but it doesn't feel good at all. It feels...violent, like he's taking ownership over you. You want to kick and scream and run away, but his weight is far too heavy on you. It's like you're glued to the bed, helpless to do anything to stop this. You close your eyes, trying to get yourself to wake up. You count to ten, ignoring the feeling of Tommy's fingers traveling between your legs. You're dryer than the Sahara desert, which makes him angry. "Not in the mood, babygirl? That's too bad." He says through clenched teeth. He reaches over to the ornate bedside table, pulling a bottle of lube from the drawer. "No problem, I can make you as wet as I need. I'd hate to tear you up too much." His words make you want to puke, but alas, no bile comes forth to help you this time.

"Please...no." You whimper, though he pretends he doesn't hear it. You feel the lube spill over your lower half, and he shoves his digits inside to spread it all around. You cry out in pain, wishing he'd just leave you alone. You try to will yourself somewhere else. You'll go to the goddamn moon without a spacesuit, or the middle of a swamp full of hungry alligators, anywhere but here. It appears to work when the pain of Tommy forcing himself inside you stops. You breathe a sigh of relief, realizing you're sitting upright now.

You open your eyes again, but it's far from a pretty picture. You're still in this unfamiliar house, one that Jack bought for you and Tommy. You can feel it, the room where you were before is just up a flight of lush-carpeted stairs. The place is rather lavish, the highest quality furniture and appliances throughout the place. You're sitting on the couch, with a full spread of drugs sitting before you on the coffee table. Weed, coke, heroine, even. Waiting for you like an all-you-can-eat buffet. You slump down to the floor, though it's hard to move your legs. You gaze down at your body, finding that you're squeezed into a skin-tight, golden dress that shows off as much of your body as possible. Tommy's pick, no doubt. Your arms and legs are covered in bruises, and you reach up to check your makeup-streaked face to find one on your cheek as well. It stings at your touch, and you see a flash of how you got the bruise in the first place. You refused to blow Tommy when he asked, so he punched you directly in the face. That was just a few hours ago, and then he left for work.

You pick up the little straw from the table, leaning your head down to the pre-cut lines of coke on the glass tabletop. You snort them all as quickly as you can, numbing the immense emotional turmoil you feel. The maid, Helga, comes in a little while later. She finds you half-conscious on the floor, the metal straw still in your hand. She helps you back onto the couch, but offers you no sympathy or conversation. She's been hired to keep you here, as well as take care of your home. You aren't allowed outside without Tommy's company, and you sure as shit aren't allowed to talk to your friends or family anymore. You wonder if they still care about you, or even think about you at all. But there's no way to know for sure. There's no phone to call them with, and you don't dare try to run away when you have no real idea where the house is located. You could be states away from Hawkins for all you know.

Later, Tommy comes home from work. There's a large, hulking man with him. Your dealer...you wish so badly that he was Eddie instead. Maybe then you could get out of here. But of course, Tommy can't risk a single person you come into contact with wanting to help you leave. You're his, and you're not going anywhere. Except maybe in a body bag. "It's your lucky day, Y/N. Fitz here has a special deal for you tonight." Tommy says gleefully, the two men approaching you.

"What is it?" You ask weakly, already knowing what's to come. This little 'deal' comes at least once a month.

"Same as always, little lady. Double the product...in exchange for that pretty little mouth of yours." Fitz says, licking his lips as he smiles. He's got a gold tooth, the surrounding ones yellowed from tobacco use and lack of care. He stinks of sweat, and something else you can't quite place. But it's horrible, and you know it's only going to get worse when he takes his pants off.

"O-okay..." You answer, nodding your head sluggishly. Fitz takes his usual place in the armchair beside you, and Tommy goes off to eat the dinner that Helga has prepared for him. You'll only get a Slimfast shake later on, the same thing you have for every meal.

"C'mere, sweetie. Gotta earn your treats." Fitz chuckles lowly, spreading his legs apart as he opens his belt. He pulls the zipper of his jeans down, and quickly exposes his half-hard cock. The stench hits you before you even dare to move. It's absolutely foul, like sour milk and onions. You apprehensively make your way over, crawling on your hands and knees. You repress a gag, tears stinging your eyes at the effort. You sit yourself before him, watching as he peers down at you while stroking himself. "Open wide, honey." He orders, his breath catching at the anticipation of your 'payment'.

"Alright." You reply blankly, reluctantly taking him in your hand. You choke back another gag, trying so very hard not to throw up all over the place. You got a beating from Tommy that almost put you in the hospital last time. You do everything in your power to ignore the smell, bringing your face closer to him. It only grows stronger, but you soldier on anyway. You have to, there's no backing out now. Fitz isn't one to shy away from hitting another man's woman. You force your mouth open, and take his meager three inches past your lips in entirety. The taste is even worse than the smell, the worst possible thing you've ever put inside your mouth. It's what you imagine the flavor of death is.

"That's the stuff." Fitz sighs in satisfaction, settling further into the chair as you work. Tears of anguish stream down your face, but they only seem to add to the wretched man's thrill. You wish you weren't doing this. You wish you hadn't stayed with Tommy and married him. You wish you could get out of this house, have the life you truly want. But most of all, you wish you could just die. Have Tommy beat you too hard, or take all the drugs on that table at the same time. Hell, even a kitchen knife across your wrists would be good enough. You want this to end, this is no way to live. This existence is absolute hell.

You wake up just before 'Fitz' finishes, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. You sit up in bed, looking around your room to realize none of it was real. You're safe in your bed, in your house, with Eddie snoring beside you. "Oh, thank fuck." You whisper, sighing in relief. You wipe your hands down your face, trying to shove that awful fake life away. Flashes of Tommy hitting you, you snorting a line of coke off the coffee table, and servicing the large drug dealer blink rapidly through your mind. It felt so real, like you were truly trapped in a life you never wanted. You can still see, feel, hear, smell, taste everything as you experienced it in your dream. And it makes you completely sick to your stomach.

You dash out of bed, going to the bathroom to throw up. You don't mean to make a lot of noise, but both doors you need to get through slam against their respective walls in your race against your own stomach. You fall to your knees on the tiles in front of the toilet, regurgitating your pizza into the bowl. You grip the sides of the seat until you finish, hoping that you'll feel a little better afterwards. "Y/N?" You hear Eddie say groggily in the doorway of the bathroom. You're still not quite done yet, and he flicks the light switch to see what's going on. He groans at the sudden brightness, rubbing his eyes. He blinks to adjust to the light, and he finds you crouching on the floor while you vomit. "Oh, sweetheart." He tuts, kneeling next to you.

He rubs your back gently until you're done. He hopes you're not sick, you've got to work tomorrow. But not only that, you've been through enough as it is. Your stomach mercifully empties, and you slump against the wall. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." You say softly, wiping your mouth. You still don't feel very well, but it could just be from the nightmare. Being up in the middle of the night like this usually makes you feel a bit sickly, too, for some strange reason.

"It's alright, princess. How are you feeling? Did something happen?" He asks, fully sitting across from you on the floor now. He's only dressed in his boxers, but he doesn't really care if Mom or Dustin see him like this. All he cares about is making sure you're okay.

"Yeah, I had a nightmare. But, what else is new?" You let out a dry laugh, rolling your eyes at yourself.

"What was it about?" He questions.

"Tommy. We were still together...and we got married." You start, which makes Eddie's eyes widen. "Believe me, it definitely wasn't a happy relationship. He was...abusive. And I started doing drugs, I essentially lived the way Chrissy was." You say softly, a couple hot tears escaping your eyes at the thought. "But you weren't there. It was a different dealer...and not a nice one, either." You let out a small sob, trying to hold it back. You're so goddamn tired of crying all the time. Just once, you'd like to be strong and keep it together. But your eyes have other plans.

"I'm so sorry, angel. C'mere." He puts his arms out for you, and you clumsily shove yourself against his chest. You bury your head in his neck, staining his flesh with salty tears and saliva as you cry into him. He holds you close, your legs tangling haphazardly with his. It's far from a comfortable position for either of you, but that doesn't really matter at the moment. Your arms cling to him, your hands spreading wide across his back to feel as much of him as possible. "It's okay, love. I'm right here, you're gonna be okay." He coos to you, rocking you back and forth in a soothing manner. You stay like this for a while, gradually feeling less sick as time passes. You still feel pretty scared, and dread getting through the day. "Let's get you back to bed, baby." Eddie says, signaling for you to get up.

"Okay." You whimper, not wanting to go back to sleep. You're so tired, and you know you need the rest. But the possibility of going back to the awful place you found yourself in, you can't risk that. You stand up, going to the sink to rinse out your mouth. You turn on the faucet, scooping the tasteless liquid to your lips. You swish it around thoroughly, and spit it out. Much better. You take Eddie's hand, letting him lead you back into bed. He lays you down as nicely as he can, his touch so loving and light. It's a stark contrast from how Tommy was touching you, and you can't help crying some more at the reminder.

"Is there anything I can do, princess?" Eddie asks sadly, wishing he could ease your troubled mind. He doesn't know what to do, it's not like he can reach inside your head and take all the bad things away.

"Just hold me, Eds. Please." You sniffle. He does as you ask, bringing you closer to lay your head on his chest. His arm keeps you close, his hand whispering up and down your back. Arwen picks up on your sadness, wriggling her way into your cuddling to put herself beside you. She purrs loudly, the sound vibrating through your torso to calm you. You stroke her fur, her eyes falling closed in kitty bliss.

"I love you, sweetheart. And I'll stay up with you all night if I need to, 'kay?" Eddie whispers, his throat stinging as he holds back his own tears. It's not fair, she shouldn't have to go through this. I feel so helpless, because I can't make it all go away. She deserves to be happy, we deserve to be happy. I know she can't take much more of this, even though she'd never say it. I only hope this stupid trial won't break her. I can't bear to see my sweet girl disappear.

"I love you too, Eddie. I just wish we could be happy, without some bullshit coming along and messing it all up every few weeks. It's like we're fuckin' cursed or something." You groan in frustration, still crying a little as sadness morphs into anger.

"I know, angel. I wish so, too." He replies, a deep sigh escaping his lungs.

"Are you okay, love?" You ask, noticing he's stiffened up a little underneath you.

"No. It breaks my heart to see you in so much pain, Y/N. And I hate that I can't really do anything about it." He answers honestly, staring up at the ceiling.

"You're doing what you can, Eds. And it means everything to me that you care so much." You reply, leaving Arwen for a moment to caress Eddie's chest.

"I know, baby. I just一...wish I could do more." He sniffs, and you look up at his face in the pale moonlight. He's biting his lip to keep it from trembling, almost drawing blood. His eyes are glassy and sad, brows drawn downwards as he fights back against his tears.

You lift yourself up slightly, putting your head above his own. "You're doing more than enough, I promise. I couldn't ask for a better man to stand with through all of this." You press your lips to his, showing him genuine appreciation for always loving and supporting you every single day. Your mouths move tenderly against one another, shuddering sighs spilling through the gaps as you cry silently together. Arwen squirms away, tired of being squished now. She curls up on the end of the bed, settling back into her slumber.

You continue to kiss for a while, just gently moving your mouths together. There's no teeth or tongues coming into play, now isn't the time to heat things up. You both only want the closeness and intimacy that comes with being so deeply in love. You eventually pull away when your lips get tired, and you return your head to his chest. You listen to his heart beating in your ear, a little faster than its usual rhythm. But as you both lie here, you hear it slowly return to its normal pace. You drift off again at some point, lulled into a dreamless sleep by the steady beat, and the radiating warmth you share with Eddie in your bed.

Part 29.2: Chains of Love

Thursday, July 27th, 1989

You wake up again to the smell of pancakes, and you hear Mom coming down the hallway to your room. She knocks on the door. "Sugarpuff?" She asks as you rub your eyes.

"Come in." You reply, and she opens the door while holding the fold-up bed trays she keeps for special occasions. Stacks of pancakes with sides of hash browns and crispy bacon sit upon them, with a glass of orange juice beside each plate. "Wake up, Eds." You nudge Eddie with your elbow, needing him to sit up so Mom can put the food down. You're unsure how she even got the door open with her hands full.

"Hmm?" He asks, squinting his eyes as he sits up.

"I heard you crying last night. So I figured I'd make you some breakfast in bed to cheer you up." Mom says, carefully setting the trays over your laps.

"Thanks, Mom." You smile weakly, though you'll happily accept this delicious food. You're absolutely starving.

"Thank you, Claudia." Eddie adds, still waking up.

"Of course. Is there anything else I can do?" She asks, clasping her hands together expectantly. You'd woken her up last night in your rush to the toilet, and she was going to check on you until she heard Eddie speak. She laid awake in bed, hearing you tell him about your nightmare. You didn't give a lot of details, but you didn't really need to. What little information you gave made her heart ache terribly. To know that you dream of such awful things all the time, she wishes you didn't have to suffer so much. You're her sweet little girl, deserving of all the happiness in the world and more.

"No, we'll be okay." You kindly insist, wanting some time to wake up and eat before you and Eddie have to get ready for work.

"Okay. Just call if you need me." She says, closing the door when she leaves.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Eddie asks as he cuts into his pancakes. The cutlery squeaks against the plate, and he loads up his fork with the syrup-soaked stack of slices.

"A lot better. I don't know how today's gonna go, though." You reply, and he gives you a look.

"You don't have to go in today if you're not up for it. I'm sure Biggs would understand." He offers, putting a hand on your thigh over the blanket.

"No, no. I've got too much work to do. And you know me, I need the distraction." You sigh, digging into the hot meal Mom's made for you.

"Do you? I feel like 'distraction' is usually code for 'ignore the issue entirely'." Eddie says seriously, still glancing at you repeatedly as you both eat.

"I'm not ignoring anything, Eddie. I can't if we're going to win this thing." You say in annoyance. He's not wrong to assume, but you really aren't trying to hide away this time. "I'm just saying that I need a break every so often, instead of fixating on Tommy and the trial 24/7." You explain, taking a large bite of hashbrowns into your mouth.

"You're right. I'm sorry, I'm not meaning to get on your case." He says apologetically, drawing your eyes to him.

"It's fine, I get it. I don't usually cope very well. But I swear, I'm not gonna put up the walls this time." You reply as you chew.

"Okay. Good." Eddie smiles, loading up his fork again. The two of you finish eating your breakfast, talking casually about anything else you can think of. You're going to be doing more than enough discussion on the tender subject with Murray later on. There's no reason to keep dwelling on it now. You return your dirty dishes to the kitchen, setting them in the sink. And then you proceed to get ready for the day. First, a nice hot shower, with Eddie tenderly licking between your legs as you claw at the steam-frosted tile. Then, the two of you dress, playfully tickling and pinching one another while you fasten your shirt buttons and tuck the tails into your slacks. And lastly, a short cuddle with Arwen for good measure. By the time you leave the house, you're both in an extraordinarily great mood.

Your shift at the theater goes swimmingly, every showing going on without a hitch. No customer complaints, no employee disagreements or call-ins. It's a perfect day, which under most circumstances means there's something waiting to come along and fuck it all up. You refuse to focus on such a thought. You've got far too much lovey-dovey bliss rushing through your veins to pay any mind to the notion.

Lunch rolls around, and you gleefully pull Eddie into the supply closet for some fun. You repay him for the glorious head he bestowed upon you in the shower, which quickly turns into him yanking your pants down and taking you from behind as you bend over a stack of heavy boxes containing imitation butter. He spends the entire time he's inside you speaking seductively in your ear. Showering you with praises, telling you how much he loves you, how you're totally perfect in every possible way. Every single syllable warms your heart, as well as makes you completely drenched for him. It doesn't take long for you both to cum, loudly and messily, four sweaty hands digging into the thick cardboard you're pressed against.

"Fuck, baby...that was so good." You pant, with Eddie still covering your body with his until you come down from your highs. You swallow thickly, letting out a tired sigh afterwards.

"Sure was, sweetheart." Eddie replies, pressing a searing kiss of admiration to your exposed neck. He got a little overeager opening up your shirt, the top button has come a little loose. Nothing a little sewing can't fix.

You check your watch, noticing you only have a couple minutes left of your break. You tap Eddie's arm, needing him to pull out. "We gotta get back, Eds." You say, though you don't necessarily want to leave this spot.

"Whatever you say, boss." He quips, lifting himself off of you. He gently puts his hands on your waist, and slowly slides his dick out of your spent cunt. You whine quietly at the loss, your mixed release running down your thigh. "Lemme clean you up, princess." He says, going over to the open case of napkins. He takes a couple from the box, quickly coming back to you to wipe the cum away before it drips onto your pants that are gathered around your ankles.

"Thank you, love." You say in appreciation. You stand upright, pulling your slacks and panties back over your lower half. Eddie puts himself away, adjusting awkwardly as he hasn't gone soft just yet. He puts his arms around your middle, giving you a few more kisses on your throat. You sigh, tilting your head to the side to give him better access. You can't resist his sweet charms whenever they come out to play. They're so addictive, sending your heart aflutter like a hummingbird. But as much as you'd like the inevitable round two that will surely come from this heated moment, you really need to get back to work. "Baby, c'mon. We gotta go." You protest breathlessly, which tells him that you don't really mean it.

"You really want me to stop, angel?" He asks, his breath fanning against your skin. He bites down on you a second later, worrying your flesh to leave a deep purple hickey in his wake. You moan at the sensation, seriously weighing your options for a second. It would be so easy to keep the good times rolling, to squeeze as much delightful pleasure out of today as you possibly can. But you have a decent amount of work to do before the day is over, and you'd hate to get caught in here after being gone so long.

"You know damn well that I don't, Eddie. But we can't stay here all day, as much as I'd love to." You say in a frustrated tone. The idea of returning to schedules and inventory sheets when you have this gorgeous man worshiping you makes you want to scream. "Pick this up later?" You offer as he stops marking your neck.

"I guess." He whines, pulling away from you. He pouts at you to hide his smile, crossing his arms.

"Ugh, you're such a brat sometimes." You laugh, rolling your eyes at his goofiness.

"Only for you, babydoll." He smirks when you turn to face him.

"You're lucky I think it's cute." You button up your blouse again, and give Eddie a brief kiss before you both leave the closet. He playfully smacks your ass when you walk past him, drawing a small yelp from you. "Don't push your luck, Eds." You warn, continuing your journey to the back office to fill out some papers.

"Sorry, princess. I'll behave." Eddie answers, fear of losing his chance to play with you later staining his voice.

"Good boy." You say with a grin, effectively dismissing him to return to concessions for the rest of the shift. Only four hours left, and then you can take him home and have your way with him. You're definitely gonna need it if you're going to sit through Murray grilling you about Tommy all night.

"Alright, that was great. Let's take a little break, and then we'll go over it again." Murray says as you finish practicing the defense cross-examination for the third time. You've been at this for a couple hours, with Bauman grilling you with semi-invasive questions. He sure knows how to lay on the sleaze, getting you to understand what you're really up against. Tommy's legal team won't pull any punches, they're gonna go right for the jugular to make you emotional, or get you to misspeak. There is no room for error, as it's unfortunately their job to get the jury to believe that you deserve everything Tommy has done to you.

"Okay." You say with a soft sigh. You feel a couple tears trickling down your face, though you've managed to keep them in until you were finished answering the practice questions.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, taking hold of your hand as he sits beside you on the couch. You would be seated in his lap, but Murray insisted that you need to focus. You suppose he's right, Eddie's touches can be a bit...distracting.

"Yeah." You nod, exhaling shakily. You wipe your eyes, and take a deep breath.

"Alright. Lemme get you some water, 'kay?" He offers, getting to his feet.

"Thanks, Eds." You give him a weak smile, trying to ignore the pounding pain inside your head. The loss of sleep is definitely catching up to you, despite Eddie's best efforts to make you feel better today. Things were really going well, storage closet sex and all. But the second Murray walked through your doorway for the second time, the mood quickly shifted. It's heavy, suffocating. It's like a dense fog has settled inside your chest.

"Here ya go, baby." He coos when he returns with an ice cold glass. You happily take it, and he extends his other hand. He opens his palm, revealing two Tylenol inside it. "These, too." He smiles kindly at you, he can tell your head is starting to hurt. He always knows exactly what your needs are, even when you try to hide them.

"Thanks." You take the pills from his hand, popping them into your mouth. You gulp half the glass to wash them down.

"You need anything else, Y/N?" He asks sweetly, sitting back down. He scoots himself a little closer, putting his arm around your shoulders.

"No, love. I appreciate it. You're always so sweet." You reply, setting your cup down on the coffee table and leaning closer to him.

"Only for you, princess." He says lowly, resisting the urge to kiss your neck. He's already in the doghouse with Murray from his poor impression yesterday. And he's gleaned that the man is not one for PDA from that interaction.

You can hear the subtle need in his voice, the light rasp in his tone. It's not a selfish need, either. You can definitely tell the difference between him wanting pleasure for himself, and when he just wants to please you. He's already been so giving today, you'd hate to get greedy. But the way his words brush warmth against your flesh like slick oil paint, you find yourself having a hard time protesting his want. "How long until we go through it all again, Murray?" You ask subtly, holding off on biting your lip and bobbing your knee.

"Uh, just a few minutes. Not nearly enough time for what loverboy over there is asking for." Murray answers, smashing your pretense away like a frail mirror.

"Whatever, man. I need a smoke." Eddie scoffs at the man's lack of discretion. He doesn't like being read so easily, especially by a stranger. It's honestly freaking him out, as well as pissing him off. He gets off the couch, storming off for the door and leaving you behind. He opens it, stepping out into the humid afternoon, and shuts it just a bit too hard.

"Was that really necessary, Murray?" You ask, leaning back against the couch while crossing your arms.

"Pardon me if I don't want to hear you two...canoodling while I'm within the confines of your home, Y/N. Besides, I can tell you've gotten plenty of action today already. Could see it the second I walked in the door." He answers, as if it's the most normal thing in the world to say to you.

"You're a pig." You spit back. This man may be your lawyer, but he has no right to talk to you like this.

"Oh, spare me! I've been called far worse, sweet-cheeks!" He exclaims. "Look, I get that you two love each other. It's sweet, really. To have someone always be there for you is a precious thing. But you're clinging to him, as he is to you." Murray continues in a sarcastic-sweet tone, reading your relationship like an open book. "Under normal circumstances, that wouldn't necessarily be a problem. But because you two have gone through so much, and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future, you haven't had a chance to level out yet. I take it you two barely spend a decent amount of time apart, right?" He asks, but his expression tells you he already knows what your answer is.

"I mean, I guess." You answer shyly, shrugging your shoulders. You pick at your nail beds, avoiding the man's gaze.

"Right. You go to each other for constant comfort. You both depend on the other being there one-hundred percent of the time. And I'm telling you right now, two things will happen if you keep up like this. One, you're going to royally fuck up this trial. And two, your relationship is going to fizzle out when it doesn't need to." He finishes, dipping his head down to give you a serious look. "You're a smart girl, Y/N. You know I'm not wrong." Your pupils flick to his, and you hate to admit it, but he's right. You honestly cannot think of a night in the last couple weeks where you slept in your separate beds. And you certainly can't recall a single day in your entire relationship where you went without seeing one another at all.

"I guess you could be right." You reply, which makes him smirk. But you keep talking. Regardless of how right he is, there needs to be some boundaries here. "But you don't have to be so rude to Eddie, either. He hasn't done anything to you, and he is also your client. He's sweet, and kind, and he takes care of me. I appreciate your help and everything, but I'd like it if you wouldn't make so many remarks towards him." You sit up straight, showing him that you're also quite serious.

"Fair enough. I'll quit disparaging your little Casanova, and you two are gonna learn to live separated from the hip. Deal?"

"Deal. I'll go talk to him." You say, giving him an agreeable nod. You go outside to find Eddie leaned against the house with a smoke between his lips. "You okay, Eds?" You ask, going over to him. He fishes out a cig for you, and you gratefully accept it.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He sighs, flicking the lighter for you. You lean into the flame to start the burn, inhaling a large dose of nicotine. "He just...bugs the hell outta me. Ya know?" He says in annoyance, scrunching his face slightly.

"I know, baby. But we had a little talk, and we've come to an agreement. He said he'll stop being so rude, if we...distance ourselves a little bit." You end slowly, knowing Eddie's going to have a hard time accepting this idea.

"What?" He asks accusingly. He's ready to fight that bald fucker at this point. Who does he think he is, putting that kind of idea in your head?

"He said that we cling to each other too much. Mostly because we've been through so much together. And I think he's right." You speak cautiously, trying not to start a fight.

"So, what does that mean?" He questions in a bratty tone. He doesn't like this one bit. He loves you, he needs you. Does this mean you don't feel the same?

"It just means that we need to breathe. Like, sleep in our own beds half the time. And be comfortable being apart for a day, or more." His eyes widen at your words, it feels like his entire world is ending. You take his free hand with your own, gazing into his eyes. "Eddie, I love you more than anything in the world, okay? But Murray is right. We're holding on to each other so tight, we'll eventually suffocate ourselves. This doesn't mean we're over, far from it. We need to do this to keep us together, and in order to win the trial." You put yourself directly in front of him, bringing your lips to his to give him a loving kiss.

He resists at first, wanting to reject this idea, to tell Murray he's full of shit. But hearing the way you've put it, he knows you're right. He doesn't want to lose you, or jeopardize a victory in court. So, he'll do everything he can to keep those things from happening. Even if he hates it. He melts into you, moving his mouth languidly against yours. You slip your tongue into his mouth, and he quickly picks up the pace. He lets go of your hand to cradle your head, keeping you close. "Mmm." He hums against you.

"Are we all set to go?" Murray says as he comes outside to retrieve you. He realizes what you two are doing, loudly clearing his throat. You freeze up for a moment, before pulling away.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry." You blush, backing further away from Eddie to distance yourself.

"It's alright. I didn't expect an immediate change." Murray replies kindly, heading back into the house. You follow behind him, with Eddie trailing along as well after tossing your cigs away. You take your seats on the couch again, and Murray sits in his chair and picks up his papers. "Okay. Let's start again."

"Alright." You sigh, not really wanting to do this again. But you aren't ready yet, far from it. You need to run these questions like drills, repeating them over and over until you know them all by heart. It's like studying for a test, and Murray is your flashcards. You know you can do this, and it'll all be worth it in the end. Eventually, you'll be able to answer these questions succinctly, and without feeling like you want to cry every five seconds. You've got this.

You cycle through the questions, not missing a beat when you answer them. One after another, you knock them down like pins at the end of a bowling lane. There's no more tears this time, during this round or afterwards. You're getting the hang of it, though the questions themselves still infuriate you on the inside. But that's to be expected. "That was great. I think we've made a lot of progress today. We should have it nailed down tomorrow, and then we can start on you, Eddie." Murray says, packing up for the night.

"Cool." Eddie replies flatly, still somewhat sulking from your little talk earlier.

"I hope you'll have a better attitude than that, kid. Acting like a jackass will get you nowhere in a courtroom." Murray warns while looking down at his papers.

You can see Eddie's about to blow up at him, so you put a hand on his arm to calm him down. His gaze snaps to you, anger flashing in his eyes. "Eddie, please. You can't be so quick to get mad like this. How do you expect to get on the stand and answer Tommy's lawyer's questions, if you're already so bothered by our own lawyer trying to help you?" You find yourself conflicted in your feelings. You understand why Eddie's so resistant to all of this. But he's going to fuck it up for both of you if he doesn't cool off. You take his hands in yours now, scooting closer to him. "Baby, I love you. But I need you to try to calm down, and think rationally about this." You give him the kindest look imaginable, hoping your gentleness will put out the flames of rage he's stoking.

"I'll try." He says with a sigh, unable to defy you. He’s aware how important this is, especially to you. You need him on his best behavior. Better than his best behavior, if one's being honest. It's going to be a challenge for him, he's always been a bit of a hot-head. But he'll put in the work, for you.

"I appreciate it, love." You give him a small smile, and he attempts to return it. But it falls away as quickly as it came.

"Well, I'm gonna head out for the night. I'll see you both tomorrow." Murray says, promptly getting up to leave. He lets himself out the front door, taking some of the negative energy with him. Things are still a bit tense, though. And you're not really sure how to diffuse it, as it's mainly radiating out of your boyfriend now.

"So, what should we do now?" You ask. There's still a couple hours left of the night before you should get to bed. You could watch a movie, or go for a short drive...or just simmer in silence.

"I think I'm gonna go home." Eddie answers, standing up from the couch. The loss of his weight on the cushion beside you sends an anxious pang through your chest. You somehow feel like you've done something wrong. Or that he's mad at you. You can't tell, you can't exactly read him as he walks down the hall to your room. Probably to retrieve his things. You apprehensively get up to follow him, walking on eggshells until you reach your bedroom.

"I'm sorry." You say weakly as you lean in the doorway. Eddie's packing his things in his bag, ignoring Arwen as she weaves between his legs. She meows at him for love and attention, but none comes.

"For what?" He asks flatly, tossing his pajamas into his duffle bag. He doesn't look at you, zipping the bag closed after his question.

"I...I don't know. I feel like you're mad at me." You answer honestly.

"I'm not." He says, putting his bag over his shoulder. He finally looks at you, and he forces his expression to soften. He sighs when he sees you nervously biting your lip, coming over to you. "Sweetheart, I promise I'm not mad at you, alright? I just...this is all a pretty big adjustment. I don't want to sleep in my bed without you. I don't want to answer Murray's stupid questions over and over. I honestly don't want to do any of this shit. I will still do all of these things anyway, because I love you. But it isn't exactly easy for me." He doesn't hold back, telling you precisely how he feels about all of this. You appreciate the honesty, but you hate to see him so upset about it. Maybe you're asking too much.

"Okay." You nod, heat building behind your eyes. Your mouth twitches to the side, the little thing you do to stop yourself from crying. Eddie notices it immediately, and drops his bag down for a second.

"Angel, c'mere." He pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around you. You nuzzle into his neck while grabbing onto him, and the tears come flooding down.

"I don't want you to go." You weep, though it's a bit muffled.

"I don't want to either, Y/N. But you're right, we have to be able to do this. We're not kids anymore, we haven't been for a while. It's just one night. But it's gonna be fine, we'll see each other tomorrow." He replies, giving you a warm squeeze. He clamps his eyes shut, not wanting to let you go. This is too hard. How is he supposed to sleep without you by his side?

"It just sucks." You say through a hiccuping breath.

"I know it does, princess." He keeps holding you close, delaying the inevitable. At some point here you're going to have to say goodbye. It seems so silly, this shouldn't be so hard for you. When you're so used to seeing one another almost every second of every day, it's difficult to change habits. It's hard to let go a little, to spend time away. But it's what's needed, and probably has been needed for a long time. Because now you're so dependent on being together all the time, that it's painful to do such a normal, adult thing. It'll be quite a challenge for you, but you know your love will be even stronger for it. "It's time for me to go, babydoll." He says after a long period of silence.

"I know." You reply, still trying to tame your tears. You slowly pull away, and your arms cross over yourself as an odd way to still feel like you're being held. Eddie picks up his bag, and you quietly walk him to the door. Your throat and chest ache, and more trickles of salty water flow down your cheeks. He opens the door, and you both stand between it and the outside for a second.

"I love you, Y/N. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" He says softly, his eyes glassy and red.

"I love you too, Eddie." You stutter out the words, fighting with yourself to keep from breaking down again. Why is this so hard? It's not like he's going away forever. He leans in to give you a kiss goodnight, and you hungrily take it. He even slips his tongue in your mouth, in an attempt to leave a piece of himself with you. He backs away far too soon, and you can feel the hesitation in him removing his lips from yours.

"It'll be okay." He cups your cheek, planting another quick kiss on your forehead. Your eyes fall closed at his warmth, forcing more tears out. "Goodnight, sweetheart." He whispers, turning to head out to his van.

"'Night." You say as a lump forms in your throat, closing the door quickly before he can hear you lose control. You lean against the barrier between you, sobbing as you hear the driver's side door open and shut, and the engine turning over. You listen to him pull out of the driveway, and roll down the road. You slide downward to the floor, curling up into yourself. You hate this, you can feel him getting further and further away by the second. Your body is acting like the entire world is crumbling, falling into the abyss and taking you with it.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" Mom asks when she comes out to the living room. She finds you on the floor, crying loud and hard as you hold your knees into your chest. You don't say anything, she'll just think you're being childish. Hell, you know that's how you're acting right now. But you can't help it. Eddie is your everything, the first real man in your life that makes you not so lost in this big crazy world. "Sugarpuff? What is it? Is it Eddie?" She asks in concern, coming over to sit on the floor with you. You nod against your knees, still unable to speak. "Did you have a fight? Or break up?" She continues. You shake your head no, but you don't want to have to explain your immature feelings to her. "Then what's wrong? You can tell me, sweetie. You know I'm here for you." She puts a hand on your back, stroking you gently over your shirt.

"It's stupid." You mumble, shaking your head again. You just want to be left alone until you pry yourself off the floor and crawl into your cold bed.

"Y/N, I'm sure it's not. You're no dummy. So, come on. Tell mama what's wrong." She carefully pulls your cocooned body open, bringing your upper half towards her. She leans you against her chest, allowing you to tell her everything without meeting her eyes.

"It's just...Murray said me and Eddie cling to each other too much. He said it could mess up the trial, and hurt our relationship. And I know he's right. So we're going to try sleeping in our own beds alone for a while, and not spend every single day together." You pause to gather yourself. "And I know it shouldn't be so hard. But I hate being without him, Mom. I just love him so much, it hurts to be apart." You explain tearfully, hiccuping through your words.

"I understand, sugarpuff. Your father and I were like that in the beginning. We couldn't go without seeing each other for more than an hour!" She says with a nostalgic laugh. "It's just what young people in love go through. You fall for someone, you want to be with them every second of every day. But at a certain point, there comes a time where you both need space every once in a while. Being together all the time makes you sick of each other after so long. That's what happened to us, I'm afraid." She says solemnly.

"I know. I just hate this. I get that it's the normal, healthy thing to do. But it's gonna take a while to stop hurting so much." You sniffle, wiping your eyes as the tears finally start to dry up.

"And that's okay, sugarpuff. It's an adjustment, and I wouldn't expect either of you to be happy about it. It'll be better for your relationship in the long run. I promise." She speaks comfortingly, placing a kiss on top of your head. "I love you, kiddo."

"I love you too, Mom. Thanks for not making me feel stupid." A smile forms on your face, you're so lucky to have your mom. She's always here for you no matter what, and you're eternally grateful for that. "I should get to bed, I've got work in the morning." You say, and the two of you get off the floor together.

"That sounds like a good idea. Goodnight, sugarpuff." She gives you a brief hug, not wanting to suffocate you with her love.

"’Night, Mom." You go back down the hall to your room, swallowing another lump that pops up at Eddie’s absence. "It's gonna be fine." You reassure yourself, closing the door and removing your clothes. You put on Eddie's Hellfire shirt, a pitiful substitute for the real thing. You flick off the light switch and crawl under the covers. Arwen hops up and pads over to you, before curling up at your side. "Hey, little one. I'm sorry daddy didn't say goodbye to you. But I'm sure he'll give you extra cuddles tomorrow to make up for it." You say sweetly to her, but all it does is remind you that Eddie isn't here right now. You let the tears fall, but you keep your body still and calm. It's the only way you're going to be able to truly rest.

You stroke Arwen's soft fur, soothing yourself with her warm purrs. You wonder if she feels the emptiness too. She's a smart cat, so she probably does. She moves closer towards your face, even going so far as to lick a couple of your tears away. Her sandpaper tongue scrapes against your cheek, making you giggle. She's such a sweet little thing, and so in tune with you and Eddie. You slowly cease your petting, and slip your hand beneath the blanket. You close your eyes, and wait for sleep to take you into its welcoming embrace.

Unfortunately for you, your worst fear about this new arrangement is coming to fruition. You cannot sleep. You don't feel even remotely tired. Your safety net is gone, your comfort, your love. He's miles away, no doubt laying restless in his own bed. You gaze out of the window, finding the big bright moon staring back at you. Its face appears rather downturned tonight, sharing in your sorrow. You're about to squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to sleep, when you hear the phone ringing in the living room. Eddie.

You dash out of bed, running as quietly down the hall as you can. You don't want to disturb Mom or Dustin, but you long to hear Eddie's voice more than anything in the world. You snatch the phone up on the final ring, breathing heavily into the headset. "Y/N?" You hear Eddie ask oddly.

"Yeah. Sorry...out of breath." You pant, begging your heart to stop pounding.

"That desperate to hear my voice, huh?" He asks with a chuckle.

"Hey! You're the one that called me in the middle of the night!" You retort, unable to hold back a giggle.

"Oh, it's hardly 'the middle of the night', Y/N. It's what, eleven-thirty?" He pauses, before speaking again. "I miss you." He says softly.

"I miss you too, my prince." You reply, sitting down in the chair by the phone.

"It's taking everything in me not to drive over there right now." He admits, feeling rather silly for wanting such a thing.

"I know, Eds. We're probably still feeding the habit by having this call." You observe, wondering if you should've just let the phone ring.

"Yeah...I just couldn't help myself. And I can't sleep. I had to hear your beautiful voice." He says, somewhat ashamed for giving in to his need for you so easily.

"I can't sleep either. Tomorrow is gonna be hell." You whine. You just know you're gonna be kicking yourself for staying up so late.

"You can say that again, sweetheart. But I should let you go, or else I'll talk to you until the sun comes up." He jokes, drawing a small laugh from both of you.

"Okay. Goodnight, my love." You say, feeling a lot better after this small conversation. It's a reminder that you aren't alone in this, that everything is going to be fine. Eddie loves you, and cares for you, and you're both on the same page as always. You're even starting to feel a little sleepy, having found some comfort from hearing his voice again.

"Goodnight, princess. Sleep well." He says, fighting off a yawn afterwards. You hang up the phone, and go back to your bed. Your steps feel heavy, and you're actually happy to be snuggled up under your covers. You give Arwen one last little pat, and take the trip to dreamland shortly afterwards.

You spend the entire night dreaming about Eddie, doing all the things you love to do together. Driving around town, cigarettes in hand as you sing along to the blasting stereo. Cuddling on your couch, watching one of your favorite movies. Making out halfway through said movie since you can't keep your hands off each other. But most of all, you find your dream self in bed with him. Kissing, touching, fucking...with a symphony of moans and whimpers to really bring it to life. It feels so real, and pleasurable sensations roll over your body while you sleep.

Dream Eddie clings to you while he grinds his hips against yours, digging his cock deeper and deeper into your pussy. You're dripping with sweat, letting out beautifully vulgar noises between starving kisses. Your nails claw into his back, needing to keep him as close to you as possible. You beg him not to stop, telling him just how good he feels inside you. He promises to never stop fucking you, to make you cum again and again until you can't take it anymore. He nibbles on your neck, and grips your thighs firmly to keep you in place. He uses the perfect speed and rhythm, and full range of motion to hit your g-spot at all the right angles. You cry out his name as your high takes you over, the pleasure so lifelike that your panties become soaked as you lay unconscious in your bed.

Friday, July 28th, 1989

You go into work the next morning, hoping to find Eddie in the breakroom before you start your shift. You put your purse inside your shared locker, and feel two large hands slipping over your waist from behind you. "Happy five month anniversary, angel." Eddie hums as he presses a smoldering kiss to your neck. You instantly melt at his touch, tilting your head to the side to let him in further.

"Mmm, you remembered." You smirk. His lips on your throat remind you of your dream last night, and the evidence of arousal you found between your legs this morning.

"Of course, baby. How could I forget?" He rasps, nipping your neck a little harder than usual. You moan quietly at the sting, pressing yourself backwards into him. He groans against you, his hands squeezing your hips hungrily. "You wanna meet me in the storage room at lunch to get your present?" He asks, unable to hide his excitement. His pants appear to be doing a poor job of that as well.

"It's a date, Eds. I was dreaming about you...all night. I woke up absolutely soaked." You tease him with your words, pulling away once you hear Mr. Biggs' heavy footsteps approaching. Eddie's breath hitches at your filthy admission, which he quickly disguises as a cough once your boss walks in.

"Morning, you two. How's the preparation for the trial going?" Biggs asks cordially.

"Oh, um...it's g-going great!" You struggle to string the words together, Eddie's hand has managed to slip behind your back to grab a hearty handful of your ass. You try to pass off your yelp of surprise as enthusiasm about your preparedness for the trial. Biggs curls an eyebrow at you curiously, before dismissing your somewhat odd behavior as stress-related.

"Wonderful. I look forward to testifying for your side. Do you have the inventory finished for me?" He asks, moving the subject to work now.

"Almost, I just need a recount on the popcorn buckets." You reply, going to the desk in the office to retrieve your clipboard.

"Excellent. I'll be here when you're finished. I've got some special tasks for you today." Biggs says, effectively dismissing you until later.

"Sounds great." You smile, leaving the room with Eddie close behind.

"Well, looks like you've got a long day ahead of you, boss. I'll see you at lunch?" Eddie says, leaning in to give you a quick peck on the lips.

"I'm looking forward to it, love." You give him a ravenous look, biting your lip slightly to let him know you'll be counting down the minutes until noon. His eyes bug a little at your expression, and he realizes that he's gonna be hard all goddamn day because of you.

You both go your separate ways, doing your damndest to stay on task until the time is right. It is a little difficult, as you catch one another's eye many times throughout your shift. Every time your pupils meet, it sends a flare of lust through your bodies. It takes everything in you not to run to each other and rip your clothes off in the middle of the lobby. You get a short reprieve when Eddie goes to the ticket booth, able to half-focus now. You fill out some paperwork in the office, working overtime to resist rubbing your thighs together in your chair. You just can't stop picturing Eddie in all your favorite positions, his face buried between your thighs, in particular.

You check your watch, finding that the time has finally come. You put your work aside for now, practically hopping out of your chair to go meet your boyfriend in the closet. You check to make sure no one is watching once you reach the door, and carefully slip inside. The light is off, which you assume means Eddie hasn't shown up yet. You suddenly hear the lock on the door click closed, and Eddie's lips attacking your neck from behind again. "You ready for your present, angel?" He asks darkly, his hand reaching around to undo the buttons on your blouse.

"Mm, yes. Do you mind turning the light on? I wanna see your gorgeous face while you fuck my brains out." You suggest, though this groping in the dark is pretty sexy.

"Anything for you, baby." He reaches back with one hand to flick the switch, and the dim overhead light comes on. He then reaches in his back pocket, retrieving a slender, rectangular box. He brings it into your view, presenting it on his palm. "For you." He says simply, waiting for you to open it.

"Oh, Eddie. You shouldn't have! I didn't get you anything." You say, half guilty, half excited. You'd previously agreed to no gifts besides sex, five months isn't exactly the most exciting milestone in a relationship.

"Being with you is more than enough for me, Y/N. Besides, I love to spoil my favorite girl." He coos, giving your throat another sizzling kiss. You decide to stop wasting time and open your present. You pull the black ribbon loose, and lift the lid to reveal what's inside. You gingerly pull open the red tissue paper, finding a stiff, silver vibrator nestled in it. "What do you think?" He asks.

"You're a dirty little fucker sometimes." You say with a laugh. You turn around to face him. "But I love it, Eds." You give him a warm kiss, which quickly turns into your tongues battling for dominance. He resumes his task of opening your shirt, leaving the last couple buttons fastened once your tits are exposed. He grabs the mounds of them roughly, massaging them in his huge hands.

"I'm glad you like it, baby. I figure you can use it whenever you miss me...or I can use it on you when we're together." He says as you break away.

"I'll definitely put it to good use, love. But right now, I just want you." You set the box down to pull his head closer to kiss him hard, and you clumsily reach for his belt to unbuckle it. You pull the leather through the loops in his slacks, unfastening the metal piece in the middle of the buckle from its set notch. The ends of the belt hang slack, letting you slide his zipper down its track. Your mouths work furiously against each other, desperate moans slipping through the cracks. You ferociously yank his pants and boxers down his thighs. His stiff cock slaps against his stomach, and you quickly take hold of it as he continues to kiss you and grope your chest.

"Fuck, baby." He groans, enamored by your hollowed fist stroking him.

"Mmm, yes, please." You joke. Eddie reaches for your own pants now, undoing the button and zipper just as easily. He pulls them down for you, along with your panties. He slips a hand between your legs, smearing the slick that's already gathered around your pussy. "Eddie." You whine as he rubs his middle finger around your clit. He pushes two digits inside of you, and proceeds to rapidly curl them. "I need you, baby. Right now...I-I can't wait." Intense need stains your voice, an orgasm growing alarmingly fast inside your belly.

"Don't have to tell me twice, angel. How do you want me?" He asks through groans and gasps. He wants you just as badly, anxious to feel your hot, wet cunt hugging him so damn tight.

"C'mere." You lead him backwards, both of you still riling each other up. You almost knock a stack of boxes along the way, but you have a set destination in mind. You stroke faster on Eddie's dick once your back meets the wall. He takes his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips to suck them dry.

"Mmm, so sweet." He moans at the taste, gazing deep into your eyes. It distracts you both for a moment, but you quickly return to the task at hand.  "Put your pants around your ankles, baby." He instructs. You do as he asks, and he gently nudges your feet apart with his foot. He then ducks down underneath you, looping himself between your legs before standing upright. He picks you up, grasping your thighs. You take the hint and put your bound ankles against his back to keep him close. You both gaze between your bodies to watch as Eddie takes hold of his dick, giving it a couple needy strokes. He groans, and a drip of his precum falls from his cockhead to the floor. He brings his tip to your slick folds, teasing your both for a moment by dragging it back and forth. "God, you're drenched baby. You been thinkin' about me all day?" He asks, looking up to meet your eyes. He slips inside you as he waits for your answer.

"Oh, god." You gasp, gripping his shoulders tightly as he fills you up. You gulp in a breath, before answering his question. "Yes, I kept seeing you inside my head. You were doing all my favorite things." You say dizzily. He's barely done anything yet, and you're already falling apart.

"And what things would those be?" He questions lowly, smirking at you. He slowly pulls his length back, almost falling out, then slams back into your soaked pussy. You both groan loudly at the sensation, your eyes rolling back into your skulls for a moment.

"Kissing me...everywhere." You reply as Eddie sets a steady pace. His eyes are locked onto yours, enjoying the retelling of your vulgar daydreaming. "My lips, my tits, my pussy. Your mouth is so soft...and warm. I love the way it feels against my skin." You consistently moan as you speak, turning the pleasure dial to an eleven with every syllable.

"What else?" He wants you to continue, to tell him all the nasty things that cross your mind about him. He continues to thrust into you, taking his time to build you up.

"I thought about your hands, particularly your fingers, rubbing my clit, or pushing inside me. They're so long, and big...and they always make me so wet, love." You continue to give him all the dirty details, drawing aroused groans from him as you talk. "Mm, I love your noises, too. I can't get enough of knowing just how crazy I make you." He picks up the pace a little, increasing your pleasure even more. His pelvis slaps upwards against your ass, the sound reverberating in your ears. "Fuck." You mutter under your breath.

"Tell me more, Y/N. Please, I wanna hear all the slutty little things inside your head." He insists, almost begging. His hands grip harder on your thighs, and he's steadily pounding you into the wall.

"More than anything else, I was thinking about this...having your dick inside of me. You're the fuckin' perfect size, you always reach all the right places." You moan, growing closer to your high. You're sweating through your shirt, and you and Eddie are breathing so heavily in each other's faces. It's boiling hot in here, setting your bodies on fire.

"More, sweetheart." He huffs, shoving his face into your chest. He nips and sucks your cleavage, wanting to mark you with as many love bites as possible. He wants you to have something to look at when you're not with him, and remember that you belong to each other. But how could you ever possibly forget?

"I-I thought about riding you, with you clinging to me as you sit against the headboard...fuck." You describe the scene inside your mind for him.

"More." He commands desperately, the single word coming out muffled.

"I thought about you fucking me from behind, laying your body over mine...w-with your hand squeezing my throat." It takes everything in you to get the words out, watching Eddie ravenously devour your chest is certainly a sight to see. His dampened hair flicking about in its ponytail, the glimpses you catch of his plush lips and nibbling teeth coming into contact with your tits. It's like he's trying to worship and consume you all at the same time. And it's so fucking hot.

"I need more, angel...please." He begs with a whimper, letting you know he's getting close. And your rapid gasping and endless stream of expletives and moans tells him you're on the same path to bliss.

"Fuck me harder, Eds. And I'll tell you everything." You answer, your final syllable extending into a whine. He thrusts his hips faster, throwing as much of his weight upwards into you as he possibly can. "Oh, god! That's perfect, baby...such a good boy for me..." You praise, drawing his lust-blown eyes to you. He stops attacking your chest, focusing on listening to everything you say. He wants to hear it all, every possible thing you think and feel about him. And the loving, intense look in his eyes leaves you unable to hide a single bit of it from him. It reminds you of the first time you said 'I love you'. The daring stare into one another's pupils, challenging the other to chicken out. But you've got your claws dug so deep into each other, there's no conceivable way that will ever come to pass.

"C'mon, baby...j-just a little more. Tell me how much you love me." He pleads, shaky, sweaty breaths escaping him between words. He's an absolute mess for you, and you gladly reciprocate the carnal chaos.

"Someone's a needy little slut today." You tease, which only makes him drill faster into you. "Fuck! You're lucky I love it when you're rough with me." You smile as your orgasm quickly approaches. You cup his cheek in your hand, stroking his slightly stubbled flesh. "I love you more than anything in the world, baby. You're my first thought in the morning, and my last thought before I fall asleep. You're my everything, and I want to have you for the rest of my life. I want to marry you, and live with you, and build a home with you. I want it all, Eddie. Forever." You speak so emphatically, overwhelmed with emotion. He seems to feel it too, because he quickly presses his lips to yours. He forces his mouth to slow down, to show you just how much he understands and mutually reflects your devotion.

He continues to thrust with full force, his hips beginning the stutter. Your insides waver around him, and you sense your release threatening to roll over you any second now. You're so full of unyielding love and affection, practically bursting at the seams. You wrap your arms fully around his shoulders, pulling him even closer to you as you tenderly kiss. Your tongues dance passionately in a delicate tango, and your hearts ba-thump at meteoric speed. Eddie breaks away mere moments from reaching the end, needing to mirror your sentiment. "You took the words right outta my mouth, princess. I want forever with you, too. I love you...so much, Y/N." He gives you another hasty kiss, sealing your fates. Both in the sexual sense, as well as the life path you're traveling down together.

"Oh, god! Eddie!" You cry out, throwing your head back against the wall as your high takes you over. Your insides spasm around Eddie's dick, and you let out a long moan that must be loud enough to be heard in the lobby.

"Fuck." He manages to gasp out, his brow furrowing and mouth falling open as he falls over the edge himself. His hips buck clumsily, making you want to scream. You soak his cock like you always do, your juices spilling over him. His sticky load shoots into you to join the mix, and you both let out one final groan to signal the end of your little celebration. He keeps thrusting, but at a much slower speed now. Lazy, comfortable strokes that keep you close as you come back down to earth. "Happy anniversary, my love." He gives you an exhausted smile, still panting from all his effort.

"Happy anniversary, Eds. That was so perfect...we were perfect." You coo, giving him a peck of appreciation.

"Mm, I agree, sweetheart. I swear, we only get better every time." He swipes a damp strand of hair from your forehead, still making those sweet, gentle movements inside you. You really don't want to stop this, you two could stay in this position forever and ever. But you're no doubt over time for your break as it is, and Mr. Biggs will surely fire you if he catches you fucking on the job.

"We'd better get back, baby." You say regrettably. He nods, slowly pulling his still stiff length out of your cunt. A collective whine at the loss rings in the air, but this is far from the last time you'll have mind-blowing sex. You might even be able to get another round in after working with Murray tonight. You clean yourselves up a little, and put your clothes back on in their rightful places. "I'll see you later, okay? We can have dinner, and hang out for a bit after Murray leaves. How's that sound?" You offer, knowing he's still not keen on this whole 'separation' thing. Neither are you, far from it. But for both your sakes, you're going to make sure your relationship stands the test of time.

"Sounds perfect, Y/N. I'll see you in a bit." You exchange one last chaste kiss, and slip out of the closet individually to avoid being seen. You put your little present into your locker, and resume working like nothing happened. One thing is for sure, you absolutely cannot wait for round two.

To be continued...

[heartbreak-sandwich]

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{❤️‍🔥} smut {✨} fluff {🔥} angst {🕊️} contains trigger warnings {📖} series {💭} headcanons {🦄} oneshots {👽} au

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HOHOHOE WEEK 2023 HOLIDAY MINI SERIES Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC (JJ Feron) BLUE CHRISTMAS {❤️‍🔥📖} CANDY CANE LANE {❤️‍🔥📖} WARM ME UP {❤️‍🔥📖}

YOU MADE A FOOL OF DEATH WITH YOUR BEAUTY (finished) Jennifer's Body AU Billy Hargrove x Tommy Hagan; Billy Hargrove x Jason Carver {❤️‍🔥👽🦄🕊️} [Read on Ao3]

RED LETTERS TO NOWHERE (WIP) Stepbro!Billy Hargrove x Mayfield!Reader {📖✨🔥👽❤️‍🔥} [Read on Ao3] 💕 CHAPTER ONE: Move-In Day CHAPTER TWO: Certain Type of People

SNEAK PEEK PART ONE SNEAK PEEK PART TWO

ANIMAL MAGNETISM (finished) Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader {📖🔥❤️‍🔥} [Read on Ao3] 💕 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

ECHOES OF REDEMPTION: LOVE AND SHADOWS IN HAWKINS A Tale of Growing Up, Rock 'n' Roll, and the Battle Against an Unseen World (WIP) Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader {📖👽} [Read on Ao3] 💕 CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR

HE'S THE BAD GUY (finished) Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader {❤️‍🔥✨🦄}

CUTE SECRET DATE TURNED RELATIONSHIP (requested) Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader {✨}

NSFW HEADCANONS {💭} Billy Hargrove x GN!Reader

YOU JUST WANT TO FEEL FULL OF HIM {❤️‍🔥} Billy Hargrove x afab!Reader (gn pronouns)

IN THE SHOWER {❤️‍🔥} Billy Hargrove x GN!Reader

ON THE HOOD OF BILLY'S CAMARO {❤️‍🔥} Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

BILLY HARGROVE IS YOUR BOYFRIEND {💭} Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

BILLY APOLOGIZES {✨} Billy Hargrove x GN!Reader

JEALOUS BILLY COMFORTS YOU {✨🦄}

SIDES OF BILLY ONLY YOU SEE {💭✨}

WAKING UP NEXT TO BILLY {✨🦄}

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69 IN A 60 (finished) Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader {❤️‍🔥}

GOOD COP/BAD COP (finished) Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader {❤️‍🔥}

KISSING HEADCANONS {💭}

STEVE HARRINGTON IS YOUR BOYFRIEND {💭} Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

THE CUMPETITION (finished) Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler {❤️‍🔥🦄👽}

EDDIE MUNSON IS YOUR BOYFRIEND {💭} Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

FULL CIRCLE WARNINGS (finished) {🔥🦄👽}

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ARGYLE IS YOUR BOYFRIEND {💭} Argyle x Fem!Reader

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ST BOYS UNEXPECTED TALENTS {💭✨}

METALHAMSANDWICH DOMESTIC CUTENESS {💭✨}

MUNGROVE MEETING {✨🦄}

RONANCE BLURB - NANCY REALIZES HER FEELINGS {✨🦄}

ST GIRLS DURING BAD BREAKUPS {💭🔥}

ST BOYS AS FATHERS {💭✨}

This list is updated regularly! ✨ Please feel free to send me an ask or message with any requests or questions, and thank you so much for visiting 🥰

[steviewashere]

Kiss and Tell

(Can be found on ao3)

Steddie WC: 2,279 Tags: Post Season 4, Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder, Eddie Munson Loves to Talk, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Queer Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, But He Already Knows (Sort of), First Kiss, Lots of Kissing

Based on this post that I made. Happy reading! <3

-------- Steve has a staring problem. He knows this. He's been told this. And it's not something he can help or fix or find an alternative for. This is just what he knows.

It's something he's tried to maintain since he was a little boy. And, on that same note, is something he picked up while being a boy in a room with two adults who were fast talkers and big negotiators and all-in on the nature of their careers. But his parents certainly hate that he has a staring problem. Which, that's not unusual, most people hate that he does. Because he doesn't look them in the eyes for more than thirty seconds at a time. And even if he does, he doesn't hear a single thing they said, politely asking they start over, and feeling hurt when they just scoff as loud as possible and walk away from the conversation all together.

The audio just doesn't process. Never has. Probably never will.

He listens to music, but doesn't understand any meaning. He talks over the phone, but must have all other sound blocked out and the curtains shut and his eyes closed to imagine what the words look like leaving the other person's mouth. He argues, but loses track of the original point of the argument—when he laughs instead of apologizes.

And it would be fine—if—he wasn't close to losing his life every year. Where he has to listen to everybody and the important tiny details and the plans and the reasons for what they're doing. Which leads him to danger. Which gives him a bruised face. Which makes the listening even harder, once the concussion leaves and he's just got the leftover damage of his quirkiness.

It would be fine—if—he wasn't made to feel so stupid for what he must do. The jabs and the constant reminders and the...yeah, his sob story.

But there was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, who he could keep up with. Because they'd talk about the same things over and over, until he could practically relay all the information, pulled straight from the deep crevices of his brain, and it ends up that they had forgotten, rather than him.

And there was Nancy Wheeler, who was polite enough to repeat things. Who had flash cards and a soft, focusing voice. It was easy to write off looking at her lips. "Eyes up here, Steve," she'd say. "Sorry," he'd respond sheepishly, "getting lost." And he'd chuckle and she'd giggle and then they'd kiss a little and he wouldn't be reminded that he's just a little weird. That, maybe, he just isn't normal.

Robin Buckley makes things easy-ish. She talks fast. And a lot. And she never looks him in the eyes, unless she's asking for a very serious favor, or he has something on his face, or she just feels the need (she claims it's that she hasn't looked in a while, but he shrugs her off every time). (If he can get away with staring at her lips, then she can get away with never looking him in the eyes.) He's mentioned, though, that he has a hard time following her sometimes. That he needs the words repeated a few times. Explained the lip thing, with a tense voice and a quake in his chest and his fingers tapping at the sides of his thighs. And, for a brief moment, he had felt like a creep. Like one of those weirdos that preys on the idea of women kissing. And he wanted to open up Family Video's register, shove his head inside, and sort himself out into the container of fives. But she shrugged, said "Okay," and went back on some ramble, to which he was immediately drawn to her mouth. And saw her repeat the name, Vickie, at least twenty times. He grinned and then when the store was empty, he leaned across the counter and teasingly said, "You have a big fat crush on Vickie, don't you?" To say that he was proud of her sputtering is an understatement.

Now, Dustin and the others were harder to get through. Because they moved at their own pace. And they don't really stop to add him to the conversation. He gets it, to an extent. He knows that he's not really all that intrigued in what they enjoy. (Even if he really leans into the conversation when they mention Sherlock Holmes or Dracula or Star Wars or, even, Star Trek. And he pretends to not be interested in their science fair projects. Or the one time he caught them huddled around a Sports Illustrated, in which he fought the urge to chat their ears off about both baseball and basketball statistics.) But there's a point in the conversations where he's made to feel a little dumb; even if he was staring where they were speaking, but they always grow frustrated, a huff of air released, when they notice he's not "paying attention" (translation: looking them in the eyes. "Because, Steve, it's just talking etiquette!" Dustin had shouted once).

He loves all of them anyway. Even if he misses words. And he loses track of what they were saying. He just wishes they were a little bit more forgivable about it at the end of the day.

Then, Eddie Munson is walking along side him in an alternate universe. He's peeled the vest off his back and chucked it at Steve. And they're talking. Jealous of one another, but talking. But, Eddie's voice goes soft and quiet, his eyes pointing towards Nancy's back.

Steve is looking at Nancy, words fading into the background. And it's not a moment of realization. Or a moment of longing. Yearning, what say you. No—it's one of his moments in which he's "listening," but not processing. So he looks back. And for a mere second, Eddie's eyes are big where Steve stares. Big and wet and curious. Big and wet and persuasive. Big and wet and not at all his lips and Steve is still not listening.

But his lips. Well, Steve's seen lips. These are pretty. They're pink. Chapped and bitten and plush appearing. Mesmerizing. Stretching over Eddie's sharp teeth, exposing dimples and smile lines, making his recent stubble more noticeable than it's ever been before. But his lips are pretty.

Like girls lips, Steve muses. Not really taking in what that means. Because Eddie's saying something about true love. And—shit—okay. Steve can get behind an act of true love. He can get behind sharing denim and coating Eddie's clothes in blood and staring down his lips and—god, his eyes, Steve can't help but notice once more.

Eddie's like a vulnerable cow. With pretty lips, he has to point out. Or a baby deer. With such pretty lips. And he's talking and Steve's finally listening. But it's not just processing. No, Steve's intrigued, interested even. He tilts his head like a curious puppy. Leaning in. Eddie's breath ghosts the tip of his nose. And, sure, it's a little rank. But weirdly sweet. Warm where Steve is otherwise cold. Warm in places Steve's never considered to feel warm in, but he's willing to give in, to wrap up in whatever Eddie has to say. If it all means more of him.

So, it makes sense that after all that they go through, Steve finds himself in Eddie's orbit. As a friend. As a trauma bond. As everything Eddie needs him to be.

He sits on the Munson's couch. On the cushion that dips a little too low. The lights orange and dim and casting beautiful streaks of almost candle light on Eddie's soft, beautiful features. Highlighting where his nose is the most bulbous. His pronounced Cupid's bow. The outer edges of his irises, golden and honey against the off-white of his scleras.

Eddie talks like Robin does. Excited. A lot. Fast. But his voice is soft, focused on the information—like Nancy's. It's teasing, like Dustin's. Soft, though. So gentle. Murmured. Which makes sense, if Steve were to stop and think about it for just a moment. With how late it is. With the little amount of weed they smoked. And it all just fits, with how slow and careful Eddie's lips move. As if testing the words. As if searching for what he means.

But, god, Steve is following along. Of course he is. Hanging onto each one of Eddie's words.

"So, the cashier at the record store got all apprehensive about selling me this tape. Which, I guess makes sense because it's a special edition. Comes with a photo card or whatever, but like—Come on, y'know? If he wanted it so bad, he should'a bought it the moment it dropped. Not my fault he slacks on not just his job, but also his opportunities," Eddie rambles. And, that's right, he's complaining about the music store encounter he had today. Trying to buy some album for some band. Steve got lost part of the way through, so he's not sure who exactly Eddie was getting a tape for. The style of music. But he has most of the information. He just—

Has to squint harder.

So, Steve leans in. As casual as he possibly can. And narrows his eyes at Eddie's lips. The word pretty comes to mind again. Because of course it does. And he can't pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. For some reason, the tips of his fingers tingle a little. Wanting to reach out. Trace his lower lip, right where it sticks out, just above the divot of his chin. Would it be soft, he asks himself. Does he wear chapstick? Steve sighs softly. I wish I could...taste it. His eyes widen, just the tiniest bit. But he ignores that in favor of whatever Eddie is saying. If only he could make it out. He leans impossibly closer.

And there it is again. The soft puffs of warm air. On the tip of his nose. His own lips. Tickling his stubble. Eddie's breath smells like weed and strawberry Tab; a little bit of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Maybe the smallest trace of pepper—

"Uh, Steve?" Eddie nervously calls out. But gets no response. Steve is only a couple inches away from his face. Eyes hooded. Glassy. Zeroed in on Eddie's lips. He's not talking. Doesn't even give a hum. Just...keeps staring.

Eddie sucks in a breath. Eyes darting over Steve's face. He doesn't talk again, hoping maybe Steve will stop. But, nope. In fact, the only thing Eddie gets as acknowledgement for the fact he's stopped talking, is that Steve pouts. Upset. As if his lips no longer moving is some great catastrophe to Steve, some tragedy, some misfortune.

And, Eddie, the awful wreck that he is, can only assume that this means one thing.

Steve wants a kiss. And is, maybe, too chicken shit to close the gap.

So, with no other option. And definitely not wanting to get away from the heated, stirring, calm mask of Steve's face—Eddie presses his mouth against Steve's. Hesitantly smushing their lips together. Dragging his lower lip against Steve's soft scowling one.

And he pulls away. Because Steve isn't doing anything in response.

No, in fact, Steve is extremely expressive now.

Wide eyes. Mouth opened into a silent "Oh." His cheeks are flushed. And as quick as it came upon him, whatever realization that was, fades. Like a cartoon character, Steve's face melts into one of pure infatuation. Mouth lilting. His posture slouching. Eyes going soft against the extreme red of his face.

"Do that again," Steve whispers.

Eddie obliges. And he obliges. And he keeps obliging until they're under a cool top sheet, skin slick with sweat and eyes piercing one another's mouths.

That's when, in the silent air of Eddie's tiny bedroom, Steve admits the greatest thing in the world. "I don't really process when people are talking unless I'm looking at their mouth. I have to read their lips. I didn't—I wasn't trying to kiss you at first, but—" And the motherfucker giggles. "If that's all it took..." Then he's kissing Eddie again. Like it's the last thing he'll ever get to do. And Eddie thinks, If I die from running out of breath doing this, then I've done everything in my life correctly.

So, sure, Steve has a huge staring problem. And he doesn't really listen. And it's something he'll never fix, even if there's a way to.

But he finds that his technique—the thing he's crafted since he was a little boy—no longer works. At least, not on Eddie. Because suddenly, looking at his gorgeous pink lips makes Steve only able to think about one thing: Kissing. And he can't follow along unless he fulfills that want.

Eddie could be in the middle of a deep, all inclusive description of his recent trap in the campaign he's crafting. He could be singing. He could be complaining about some movie he rented. But that doesn't matter. Because he stops talking the moment Steve leans in and kisses him. Kisses like he needs it to live.

And though he rolls his eyes. Huffs a breath. Smirks and barrels on. There's that giddiness, that love pooling in Eddie' heart. Just knowing the effect he has on Steve. And the way he's affected, too, when Steve just whispers, "Sorry, I got lost again. Start over?"

He obliges. And he keeps obliging. And his lips are usually swollen by the time he's finally done rambling.

Steve stares. Eddie talks. And it's the combination of a lifetime.

--------

❤️

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

Maybe 10% Better

by BilbosMom

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tommy Hagan & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Tommy Hagan, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Billy Hargrove Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Omega Steve Harrington, Alpha Eddie Munson, Protective Tommy Hagan, Tommy Hagan Being an Asshole, Minor Tommy Hagan/Carol Perkins, Good Friend Tommy Hagan, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, POV Tommy Hagan, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Soulmates Words: 38,167 Chapters: 5/5

Summary

That's when Tommy realized he was, like, the worst fucking friend ever. Because Steve was an omega and they had learned in health class that omegas craved physical contact. And Steve, a secret male omega with shitty absentee parents, wasn’t getting any love at home and he couldn't exactly reach out and ask his buddies for some cuddles. No one but Tommy knew about him and Tommy sure as shit hadn't been offering to hold his hand. So now here Steve was, getting a goddamn contact high because he was squished in between Davey Bower, who smelled like ball sweat and Cheetos, and Andrew Floyd, who looked like a fucking toe. But Steve was too blissed out on, like, happy omega hormones to care about that, and Tommy was the shittiest best friend in Hawkins. Goddammit. Tommy was going to have to start giving Steve hugs. He was going to have to give him so many goddamn fucking hugs. When Steve presents as a rare male omega he is forced to hide his status and question his worldview; he learns to be less shallow, more caring, and more open-minded. Tommy Hagan stays loyal to his best friend and is dragged kicking and screaming into being a better person too. Just a little bit, though. Like, maybe 10% better.

[kookygranger]

Is This Desire?

Firefighter!Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader

Steve takes you on your first date. Robin asks you a question.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, allusions to sex, witchcraft, reader is a town outcast, fem!reader, no upside down/no hawkins au, mention of dead parents

Word count: 1.8k

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

Chapter Three: Sweetness in his golden hair

Steve had everything planned. He’d reserved a table for two at a restaurant with warm lighting, white tablecloths, and oaky red wine. When he came to pick you up he was holding a bouquet of lilac and pink snapdragons, crisp light blue shirt tucked into his best slacks, Harrington charm dialled up to eleven to hide the way he kept wiping his palms on them.

He’d even rehearsed what he was going to say to you on the walk up to your front door, the crickets chirping amongst your thoughtfully arranged flora drowning out his mumbles. But much like last time when he found himself standing on your porch, it all left his head. The sweet smell of your garden and the perfume you’d just applied hitting him all at once, punching a shaky exhale and a mumble of beautiful from his lips – though the bite of your lip to contain your shy smile proved it was enough.

But well-intended plans almost always unravel.

Steve saw the way your face lit up as you walked past the diner in town, the two of you opting to stroll rather than drive to your destination on this balmy night, and he couldn’t ignore your curious eyes.

Your attention was caught by bright red baskets of golden, salty fries and the artificial pink of sweet milkshakes topped with whipped cream and glossy cherries, but mostly your eyes sought the boisterous teens crowding tables that barely fit them and loved-up couples swapping stories and saltshakers. The scene was nothing out of the ordinary for someone who’d grown up in small-town America, but then Steve remembered.

Nothing about your upbringing would’ve been ordinary.

You’d never been on those awkward teenage or even adult dates, sat across from one another in a diner booth trying to figure out a common topic to discuss. You didn’t have your first kiss during a round of spin the bottle in Tommy Hagan’s basement, that lasted no more or less than three seconds, wondering if you’d even done it right.

And the look on your face told him that maybe you felt like you’d missed out – he sure would’ve if he were in your position.

So, instead of the white cloth tables and tealight candles, Steve steers you into a sticky vinyl booth, sliding in right after you and wasting no time in putting his arm around your shoulders. His smile lit up by the red neon of the open sign hanging in the window when you lean into him.

Through soft words, you both get to know all the details you’d been longing to. What your parents were like – yours dead, Steve’s miles away and as good as – what had filled your days in between your first proper meeting at that bar all those years ago and when you were finally reunited, and what drove you to get up every morning and face them now. You talked of literature, poetry and watching seeds grow to the mixture of leaves and dried flowers that scented your teacups. Steve talked of Robin and filled you in on some of the more exciting adventures he’d experienced working at the firehouse.  

When you’re both full of greasy food and comforting conversation, Steve suggests the eight o’clock screening at the cinema across the street. It was a single theatre, so there’d always be a comedy for the Saturday night showing to appease the masses – except for the second Saturday of the month, which was romantic drama night.

He buys a medium bucket of popcorn and a large soda with two straws and leads you to the back row. You’ve barely made it through a couple of handfuls of popcorn and the pre-show commercials before he’s peppering you with buttered kisses.

You give up when his at first innocent hand on your thigh finds its way past the hem of your dress, and somehow make it home without ever having to detach from him.

The curtains in your bedroom flow with a welcome breeze as you trace circles in his golden skin, looking up at him from the chest you’d made a home in, in more ways than one. His lips curl up when you plant a kiss between his pecs.

“Was that a normal date?”

You feel his chuckles vibrate under your chin.

“Yeah, all standard practice. But it doesn’t usually go this well.”

“Are you saying I should’ve waited to get you in my bed? It was a little late for that.”

He laughs again, still softly so as not to break the spell “I’m saying it doesn’t normally feel like this. It’s never felt like this.” He rubs the apple of your cheek with a rough thumb.

“Is that a good thing?”

His brown eyes bore into yours while he takes a second and you wonder what he’s thinking.

“Baby, you have no idea.”

You crawl up to him from your position, cotton sheets slipping off your back, his hands sinking into the hips that straddle him. Your loose hair falls around the two of you like a curtain; like the bubble that refuses to burst now that you’re finally able to be together.

“I think I have some idea.”

***

The driveway of the Ravenwood house is now occupied by a burgundy BMW most nights.

Since your first date, you and Steve find yourselves in each other’s company more often than not. If it’s not spending nights together letting the sway of the trees and chirping crickets, along with Steve’s soothing hands in your hair or digging deep into your shoulders, lull you into a peaceful state on your front porch, you’re finding each other during the day. Spending lunch breaks in the park, Steve visiting you at work, where you’ve set him up with a membership so he can borrow the books you’ve been recommending.

He reads them during quiet lulls at the firehouse, trying to keep up with all the references you make so you don’t get bored of him.

But you never could.

Steve now knows all about Austen, Woolf, Stoker, Plath and Joyce. He may not understand much of it, but at least he feels like he can keep up with your conversation.

You don’t mind the quiet though. Especially when it comes to moments with Steve. You’d happily sit reading, carding your fingers through his soft locks as he lets his body melt into your touch, eyes closed and mind at peace.

And you do. Often.

Steve’s grown to love it also. Quiet used to mean emptiness to him, and he’d often find things to fill the space that kept him social. Kept him talking, despite not really having much to say. But now, he loved the quiet. Your quiet. Because it wasn’t empty. It actually left his heart fuller than it had ever been.

***

It took longer than you would’ve liked to meet Robin, considering how many of Steve’s stories featured her. You were worried that meant he was ashamed or embarrassed by you. Despite the way he acted completely to the contrary, you knew it couldn’t exactly be easy dating the town outcast. The town witch.

Not that he was aware of just how true those rumours were.

When he finally brought up the idea of you two meeting, his nervous rambling about how Robin was a handful and would often just say what she thought, calling him names and never ever passing up the opportunity to bring him down a peg or two – but she was his best friend and it was important that you two meet not just because you were the two most important people in his life but because you were obviously going to love each other, made it all click.

Steve wasn’t embarrassed by you, or Robin for that matter. But bringing the two of you together would finally burst this bubble you’d both inadvertently created. It had been nothing but you and Steve against the world for weeks now. There wasn’t even a world to be concerned with when you were in each other’s arms.

But reality, no matter how difficult, will always have to be faced.

So it was with a pop, that Robin Buckley appeared at your door. Steve’s plan was to pick her up after his shift and bring her over to yours where you were preparing dinner for the three of you. But he was running late, some last-minute training due to a health and safety accident that would keep him an extra hour, and Robin didn’t want to wait.

She was desperate to meet you, asking what your intentions were with her best friend at the front door before wrapping her arms around you when she was quickly satisfied by your admission to still forgetting how to breathe when you were around him. She told you she was already obsessed with you and marvelled at the inside of your home as you led her into the kitchen.

You were pouring the both of you a cocktail when the phone rang, Steve on the other end apologising before you’d even got a word in and assuring you he’d be home to relieve you soon. You told him you were fine of course, in fact you were getting to know each other quite well and he sighed, stating that’s exactly what he was afraid of.

As you stirred at a green sauce over the stove, keeping an eye on the bubbling pasta pot, Robin watched you attentively. Chewing on her lip before blurting out what she’d been dying to ask you since she crossed the threshold of your home and felt a warm tingle up her spine.

“So uh, are you like–are you really a witch?”

Your stomach drops. Continuing to stir, you take your time in acknowledging her question. “I won’t cast a love spell if that’s what you’re asking. They’re far more dangerous than people realise.”

“What about a tarot reading? I just wanna know if loves in the cards, or like…any sort of relationship at this point.”

You smile, anxiety lifting as you turn to see her hopeful face. “That I can do for you Robin Buckley. Maybe I can come down to the bar while you’re working one night and bring the cards with me. Draw some fellow love-seekers your way. This town may claim to hate witchcraft and dark magic, but no girl can resist having her fortune laid out in front of her.”

Her head shakes minutely, voice a whispered awe, “Finally a decent wingman.”

“I’m home!” Steve calls down the hall, wrapping his arms around you and delivering a peck to your cheek as soon as he can, giving Robin a nod before he turns to stick a finger in your sauce, ravenous after a long day.

You and Robin share an understanding look. She smirks, knowing exactly how clueless her best friend can be.

“This is delicious baby.” Another peck, this time warm from lips to cheek.

[afewproblems]

62 &/or 71 for platonic stobin perhaps?

62: It's okay to cry & 71: You are the single best thing to happen to me.

Thank you very much for this, I love these prompts and got real carried away with this! I hope you enjoy!

If you had asked Robin Buckley to describe her relationship with Steve Harrington back in her freshman year, she'd laugh in your face. 

Why on earth would King-Steve be caught talking to her, let alone do it enough to constitute a relationship?

He was a popular jock, and Robin was a freshie with a trumpet.

It wasn't how things worked.

Steve operated on the outside of her periphery. She had an awareness of him, his actions in the popular crowd. Like any minor celebrity, the gossip mill ran rampant with tales of King-Steve.

"Harrington scored the winning shot at last night's game! Not many Juniors get opportunities like that!"

"King-Steve told Tommy to leave Harvey alone cuz he's just a freshie, saved him from a swirlie -swear to God man".

“Yeah well, I heard he broke Byer’s camera the other day, so--”

"Have you seen his hair, ugh he's so dreamy!"

To which Robin thought, 'I've seen him leave half a bagel of crumbs all over his English notes, how dreamy can he be?'

And to top it all off, Tammy Thompson wouldn't stop staring at him, twirling her long blond hair around her pink varnished nails while reading sonnets from Romeo and Juliet loudly at her cafeteria table, trying valiantly to catch his eye --peak romance right there.

But Robin wasn't quite ready to think about how much she wished Tammy would bat those long lashes at her, nah, hating Steve Harrington was easier. 

Besides, he had no idea she existed, right? 

Robin grabs a can of Coke from the fridge, reaching into her pocket for change before joining her mother at the till.

The corner store was all the way out on Main Street, but still closer to home than Mevalds or the grocer on Parsons so Mrs Buckley had stopped for a few things on their way back from Robin's band practice. 

She slides the change onto the counter and pops the tab before throwing a thumb over her shoulder, "I'll go wait by the car mum". 

Mrs.Buckley nods distractedly, waving her hand with a smile and she hunts through her purse for her checkbook.

Robin makes her way down the aisle to the entrance, the little bell above the door jingles lightly. She steps over the threshold into cool November air and shrugs her jacket collar up against the chill. 

She sighs as she looks back through the window, her mom seems to be taking her sweet time, chatting with the clerk now and going through her checkbook with a smile. 

A muffled groan catches her attention from across the lot, she tilts her head towards the sound and startles when she spots Steve Harrington, the bane of her existence, leaning against a car with a can of soda pressed to his beaten bloody face. 

He hasn't seen her, his eyes are trained at a point just ahead of him as he rolls the can over his split cheek. 

What the hell?

Robin leans away, keeping herself behind her mom's station wagon and out of his sight line. 

Who would have kicked the shit out of old King-Steve? And where were his two cronies Hagan and Perkins? She had so many questions and--

Steve sniffs once, pushing the heel of his free hand into his eye as he drops the hand holding the can.

Oh.

Robin suddenly feels as though she's intruding on something private. Watching this boy she's never talked to, who she saw last Monday walking with the rest of the basketball team into the cafeteria, Nancy Wheeler hanging off his arm with an affectionate roll of her eyes and the biggest grin plastered all over his dumb face.

But this Steve is hurt and alone and smaller than she's ever seen him before.

It's bizarre.

Suddenly he's moving, throwing the can to the gravel and stepping off the car before sliding his arm across his face in one motion, he clears his throat and throws open the driver's side door.

The engine of his beemer roars to life just as Robin's mother exits the store, she frowns as Steve peels out of the parking lot, brakes squealing.

"Honestly, why they give teenagers licenses, I'll never know," Mrs.Buckley mutters under her breath as she unlocks the car and hands Robin the paper bag, "do you know that boy?"

Robin watches as the tail lights of Steve's car disappear around the corner, the image of his hunched shoulders and black eye branded in her mind's eye. 

Robin shrugs once as she opens the passenger door, "Not really".  

***

It's not until two years later that Robin crosses paths with Steve again, slinging ice cream with the former King down at the new mall.

Her first job and it’s at some horrible sailor themed ice cream shop of all places and to top it all off, she’s stuck with Steve Harrington.

Sure, she'd seen him in passing at school, watching as he slowly fell away from the popular crowd. While it was somewhat satisfying to see Tammy pretend she had never really been interested in the former King of Hawkins High, she couldn't help but remember the way Steve looked that day, face bloody, holding a cold can of pop to the worst of the bruises.

Robin can't help but wonder just what had suddenly turned Harrington's life completely on its head that day. She'd heard it was Jonathan that had beaten him up, but given how weirdly close he, Nancy, and Steve got after that cold November day, she didn't really believe it. 

Wasn't he rich too? He drove a BMW to work for chrissakes. So why was he here?

And then there’s the kids. 

They follow him around like ducklings, begging for rides during his spare time and free samples of ice cream on the days he’s working.

It would be endearing with anyone else, but it’s Steve Harrington. 

They've been working with one another for about two weeks before it happens again.

Robin idly sprays the glass display case with the spray bottle from the back. Whatever green liquid is in the unlabeled bottle smells absolutely foul but it's the only thing in the store powerful enough to get rid of all the finger and face prints on the glass from kids standing on their tiptoes to see the flavors.

They end up having to clean the customer side of the window far more often than their employee side and normally she and Steve will flip a coin for it.

Neither of them enjoy being out from behind the counter, the shorts and the socks are reason enough for this, but it also has the negative effect of piquing enough customer interest to interrupt their down time, like the movement and streak free glass shine draws their eyes.

But, nine times out of ten Steve would ‘lose’ and pick up the spray bottle without complaint. 

Robin had started to wonder if he was doing it on purpose, but why the hell would Harrington do something like that? 

She wrinkles her freckled nose and starts wiping the glass, clearing away the smudges and dirt before spraying again to get at the more stubborn fingerprints.

Steve is late today, which is weird. 

Another surprise from Hawkins golden-boy, Robin would have expected Steve to waltz in twenty minutes late to every shift, with a scowl on his face and a refusal to pull his weight. 

But it was the opposite. 

Steve would get there early, he would review the cleaning list for the day, check the inventory to see what ice creams would need to be restocked and what the special was for the day. 

The only thing Steve had ever asked her to do, was to write out the specials on the board. 

When Robin had scoffed and asked why he couldn't do it himself, Steve had gotten very quiet, chewed his lip for a beat and said, "I don't want to mess it up, or have you have to redo it for me". 

Steve shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets, "sometimes the letters are weird when I read and then it makes it harder to write them out”.

He sighs but it comes out more like a scoff, “there’s a reason I’m still here Buckley”.

Oh…so the golden boy of Hawkins High would not be leaving for college in the fall then. 

He looked at her, his big eyes traced over her face as though he were looking for any hint of a laugh.

And what else could she do in the moment but pick up the dry erase marker and shoulder him out of the way of the board with a, ‘you owe me dingus’. 

She turned her face away at the small smile Steve gave her, ignoring the twinge in her chest at his tiny confession. 

God Dammit, he was not endearing, he wasn’t!

Robin balls up the rag she used to wipe down the glass and looks up to the wall clock on the far side of the food court. 

It’s nearly eleven in the morning and Steve is still not here, she’s tempted to use the phone in the back to call his house when she remembers she has no clue what his phone number is or if it would even be listed.

She’s sure he’s scheduled with her today; it’s Tuesday, they always work Tuesdays together. 

Robin looks around the food court, scoping out the entrances and nearby tables. There’s no sign of him, no obnoxious hair, no big goofy grin, or big hazel eyes to be found. 

She huffs and makes her way to the back room, pushing the swing door open hard enough that it makes a satisfying bang against the wall. 

She freezes at the sudden yelp from the back corner. 

Steve whirls away from her, his face tipped into his open locker, his shoulders are a tense hunched line. It's a horribly familiar pose and once again Robin can’t help but feel like she’s witnessing something she shouldn’t.

“Steve?” she says softly, taking another step into the room, “whats--”

“I know I’m late,” he mumbles, the words are tight but there’s no waiver to them, “sorry”.

Robin wishes she were better at this sort of thing --her mom always seemed to know what to do and what to say when people were upset. That skill definitely skipped a generation in her case. 

He turns to face her, slowly, one hand on his nose, the other holding his wrist against his chest.

There’s an ugly, rapidly purpling bruise running down his arm where it’s cradled. The shape is strange, almost as if someone had grabbed him - it runs around the entire circumference of his forearm and--

Oh.

Steve eyes her challengingly but there’s no real heat in it, his eyes slightly shiny in the awful humming fluorescent lights.

“Actually,” Robin swallows roughly after nearly a full minute, clearing her throat as she leans back on her heels, “Uh, Marcus said we only needed one person on today, it’s slow as shit so,” she shrugs and tilts her head to the employee entrance, “you could go home if you want”.

Steve stares at her, his eyes raking over her face the same way he did after the white board incident, before he sniffs once and shakes his head, muttering under his breath that he’d rather get hit by a bus and Robin stiffens at the implication.

“You’re a terrible liar Buckley,” he says eventually, closing his locker and running a slightly shaky hand through his hair before walking towards her and the storefront, “but thanks,” Steve says softly as he passes. 

“Does that mean I can go home?” Robin calls after him, immediately wincing but pleased at the startled laugh she hears from the counter.

She follows him out front, slowly, suddenly feeling with absolute certainty that she really doesn’t know Steve Harrington at all.

***

Robin never thought she would be here. 

Not once did she think she would have ever come out to someone while she was still in highschool, let alone the former King of Hawkins high who would in turn become her best friend, her platonic soul-mate if you would. 

After the debacle that was their official last shift with Scoops Ahoy and the Russian Spy Alternate dimension bullshit where Steve risked his damn life to save her and the kids --who all knew about this monster filled Upside Down just by the by. 

So many things suddenly made so much sense, Steve and his injuries over the years, his weird relationship with Nancy and Jonathan, even the sudden personality 180.

And through the truth serum, the torture, the fire, and running down another car driven by a maniac from California, Steve was there to hold her hand, and Robin is infinitely grateful for it.

They take a job together at Family Video, attached at the hip ever since the mall burned down in July; the video store is one of the few places still hiring that summer that pays a dollar above minimum wage. 

It’s not exactly glamorous, it’s mostly restocking the shelves and rewinding tapes but it’s easy and the hours are good. 

She and Steve are able to get their shifts together most of the time, they both know this is so Keith can avoid working with Steve directly -a bonus if there ever was one. 

Things have been quiet ever since Billy’s death and the Mind Flayer’s obliteration from their world, but it’s been especially quiet since the Byer’s packed up and moved to California. 

Most of that seems to be influenced by the cloud of sadness that has draped itself over the rest of the kids and Nancy -who has been coming by more and more lately, stopping in at Family Video and lingering in the evenings, chatting with Steve while Robin shelves the returns. 

It wouldn’t even have made a blip on Robin’s radar if not for the way Steve would shut down for the rest of their close after Nancy left. 

He refuses to speak more than one word answers, refuses to engage with Robin’s one sided bantering as she balances the till and shuts down the neon Open sign.

It’s nothing like after she saw the bruises at Scoops, nothing like the quiet acknowledgement that the Harrington house wasn’t all money and sunshine the way she thought it was. 

And Robin doesn’t know what to do about it.

It’s been going on for weeks now, and she’ll be starting school again soon. She won't be able to take the same number of shifts as she could over the summer months, and Robin has no idea what will happen when she’s not there as a buffer anymore.

It’s the last week of August when she brings it up to him.

“Steve?” she says as she hands him another copy of The Terminator tape for him to rewind; it’s nearly nine at night and Nancy hasn’t been by at all today. Robin’s stomach has been in knots watching Steve watch the windows for her all night. 

He tilts his head and quirks an eyebrow at her as Robin breathes in deeply through her nose, her heart suddenly in her throat. 

“Just,” she bites her lip, “what is going on with you and Nancy?” 

Oh, perfect, real subtle.

All at once Steve’s face shutters.  

“No, come on, don’t do that,” Robin wheedles, stepping in front of him, “Steve, just talk to me--”

“There’s nothing to talk about, just drop it Robin,” he bites out as he steps around her to grab the returns cart and wheel it over to the New Release shelf.

“No, nope,” she huffs, walking quickly to the other side of the cart and grab the handles, “this is against all the laws of best-friendom”.

“That's not a word,” he mumbles tiredly, reaching up to pinch his nose and close his eyes. 

Ah shit. 

“Dingus, Steve,” Robin says softly as she lets go of the handles and steps closer into his space, “talk to me?”

Steve hesitates, seeming to chew the words or the inside of his cheek - she can’t quite tell at this point, before he blinks once, twice, his eyes rapidly becoming shinier by the second.

Oh double shit.

He shakes his head and turns away from her sharply and Robin doesn’t know what to do with her hands as Steve takes a deep wobbly breath. 

“It’s okay you know,” she finds herself saying softly as she takes a step closer, “to cry?”

Steve barks out a wet laugh and shakes his head again, still not looking at her.

“I don’t know what to do, like literally,” Robin whispers in a panicked voice, “can I, I mean, do you want a hug?”

He nods but doesn’t move as Robin steps even closer to wrap her arms loosely around his waist, he’s stiff in her embrace but slowly begins to relax the longer they stand there - as though he’s not used to something like this.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, but I am here if you want to talk, or if you even just want to vent - man I want to vent,” Robin says, pulling back slightly to look Steve in the eyes, “don’t take this the wrong way, but what the hell is Nancy doing?”

Steve stills in her arms but she keeps going, “honestly, aren’t she and Jonathan still dating?” 

“Like I get that he’s all the way in California but why is she coming in here, and don’t tell me it's about the movies --she never asks me to help find anything, just you, and half the time she doesn't even end up renting anything?”

Robin stops as Steve’s breath hitches once, “it's not fair to you,” she finishes lamely, her voice petering out as Steve nods and sighs, finally bringing his own arms around Robin’s shoulders to draw her closer and bury his face in her hair.

“Thank you,” he whispers in her ear as he squeezes her tight enough to leave her nearly breathless.

“You’re the only person I can actually talk to that won’t think less of me about, about everything,” he whispers into her hair, Robin’s hands twitch as she fists his work vest between her fingers. 

“I think, you are the single best thing to have happened to me in the last like, two years Robs,” the words are constricted, as though he has to drag them out, “and…I need to tell you something”.

Robin nods as he pulls away this time to look at her, his red rimmed eyes trace over her face, just like they had at Scoops all those months ago.

“I,” he swallows and drops his gaze to the floor, “I don’t…feel that way about Nancy anymore,” Steve says quietly. 

“But you seem so upset whenever she leaves, you were looking for her today?” Robin says, confusion painting her words. 

Steve sighs and tips his head back this time, looking at the ceiling as though the answer is hidden among the ceiling tiles and water stains. 

“It's complicated, I…” his mouth opens and closes for a beat, “I am sad for her that Jonathan is gone - he was a better fit for Nancy, way better than me,” he mutters and looks at Robin once more. 

“And I know what she's doing, coming in here all the time, she’s lonely, but that's not why I’m upset Birdy”.

Robin frowns, “then what--”

“There’s this guy,” Steve blurts out, speaking over her in a rush.

Robin feels herself stop breathing, what?

His chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as he continues, “I-I’ve never told anyone this before”.

“Okay, okay,” Robin whispers, rubbing soothing circles into his back as he moves even closer and drops his head to her shoulder. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he murmurs into her vest and hair, his breath warm and wet as his chest stutters and heaves. 

“It’s okay,” she says again, repeating the words she’s told herself the last three years, “you’re okay”.

“Loving Nancy is easy, but I…” he sniffs and breathes out, Robin feels a gathering wetness on her shoulder but it only makes her hug him harder.

“But you don’t,” she says softly, finishing his sentence for him.

Steve nods and lets out another shaky breath, finally lifting his face from her shoulder.

He’s a mess, face red and blotchy, tear tracks and snot shine in the streetlights from outside the video store window. Steve’s eyes are red and puffy and his mouth has stretched into an uncharacteristic frown that makes Robin’s chest ache. 

Now Robin’s mother may have been an expert on making people feel better no matter the occasion, but Robin was an expert on putting her foot in her mouth and making Steve laugh.

And the latter felt much more appropriate at this moment. 

“I mean, you’ve come to the right person at any rate,” she says sagely, reaching up to wipe a loose tear from his nose, he snorts and bats her hand away.

“I’m serious, if anyone is an expert in gay pining, it’s me, I’ve seen it all, if you want pointers in watching from afar and daydreaming about your illegal wedding, I’m your lady”.

Steve laughs and steps back to wipe his face roughly with both hands, it does nothing to sooth the puffy skin beneath his eyes but at least the last trace of tears are gone. 

“I’m also an expert,” she chews her lip for a moment, considering carefully how to put it into words, “on how all of this feels, and how new and scary it can be,” she says softly, “trust me, I’ve been there”. 

Steve nods, his eyes shining all over again as he tugs Robin closer into another bone crushing hug.

Just in time for the bell above the door to chime. 

Well shit.

They step away from one another, glad for the distance from the front door to the counter, knowing exactly how that might have looked to the average customer so late into the evening.

“Hey man,” Robin calls out as Steve turns away from the door to hide his face, “just letting you know we close in five so…”

The man nods, he looks familiar, Robin’s fairly certain she’s seen him at school but she can’t remember the name. 

His wild curly hair and jean vest decked out in patches and pins scream, ‘Metal-Head’, as does the ever present cloud of tobacco and weed smell that follows him and around the shelves. He makes a beeline for the small horror section at the back and grabs a tape before making his way to the counter. 

“No worries Buckley, knew exactly what I wanted, I won’t hold you and Harrington up --hey man,” he says brightly, two dimples bloom as he smiles in Steve's direction who flinches at being addressed. 

Steve slowly turns and tries for a smile, “hey Eddie,” he mumbles.

Eddie’s smile drops as his eyes trace over Steve’s face, “woah, what happened sweet-uh,” he looks at Robin once before moving back to Steve, “dude, uh, sweet dude?”

Oh no fucking way.

Steve clears his throat, his cheeks slowly getting pinker the longer Eddie and Robin stare at him, “nothing, I promise, um are you still okay to take Dustin to Indy tomorrow to the hobby shop?”

Eddie nods and smiles, though there’s still a hint of worry in his eyes as he slides the tape over the counter, “wouldn’t miss it, gotta get that kid ready for Hellfire initiation after all,” he says with a wink.

“I figured if you didn’t have anything after we could watch this at mine,” Eddie continues nervously this time, gesturing to the tape Steve scans through. 

For the third time since she’s known Steve, Robin feels as though she’s witnessing something she shouldn’t, only this time it doesn’t fill her with anxiety or uncertainty, and she’s never felt more invisible.

“I’d like that,” Steve says softly as Eddie beams at him, wrapping his knuckles against the counter as he hands Steve three one dollar bills.

“Sounds like a plan my liege,” Eddie hums as he bows with a flourish, coaxing a laugh out of Steve who is smiling like a loon beside Robin, “you bring the popcorn, I’ll take care of everything else,” he calls over his shoulder as he walks backwards towards the entrance before tipping an imaginary hat in farewell as he disappears out the door.

“That is not pining!” Robin shrieks as she whirls around on Steve the moment they see Eddie get into his van, “that was full blown flirting, how long has this been going on??”

“I’m sorry--”

“Nuh uh, you’ve been getting kissy with him, and you didn’t tell me? You got to have your first kiss before me??”

“We haven’t kissed Robin, christ we haven’t done anything--”

“Life is so fucking unfair, you had to be a ‘ladies’ and a ‘man’s’ man, huh?” She scoffs as she walks to the front of the store and switches off the sign and bolts the door for good measure.

Robin turns around only to find Steve staring at her, a nervous expression warps his normally handsome face.

Dammit.

She rolls her eyes and sighs, “I am still so proud of you for telling me, but you have to admit this is unjust,” she mutters in what she hopes is a reassuring voice.

“You think he likes me then?” Steve wonders aloud as he looks from Robin to the door that Eddie left through with a small smile.

Robin drops her face into her hands, this is the man she’s chosen for her platonic soul-mate?

“You are literally going on a date tomorrow,” she grumbles irritatedly, “I watched him ask you out, not even ten seconds ago Steve”.

The smile he sends her way is blinding, and once again Robin is reminded just how much she loves this doofus, how she never would have imagined herself here as a freshman with a trumpet.

“You are calling me after,” she demands as Steve pops the till to begin cashing out while Robin hops up to sit on the counter and fill out the paperwork, “if I can’t teach you about pining then you damn well owe me a class about dating”.

Steve laughs brightly as he lays down the bills and change, giving Robin a soft grin which she returns, finally feeling as though she knows Steve Harrington much better than most.

[sadhours]

simmer down

billy hargrove x f!reader

masterlist • requests are open! • read on ao3

summary: being tommy hagan’s sister had it’s perks, but when the new kid from California catches your attention, it seems like more of a curse than a good thing

warnings: 18+ minors dni, Steve x Reader, underage drinking, partying, smut, p in v, angst, Billy is a mystery, Steve/Nancy, slow burn, forbidden romance

Being Tommy Hagan’s sister had its advantages. Your freshman year of high school, you had a guaranteed spot with the cool kids and an invite to every party. Tommy wasn’t protective by any means. You two were buddies, you and Carol were buddies and of course, you and Steve Harrington were buddies. Freshman year was a blur, until Nancy ripped Steve away from the group. Still, the three of you were determined to keep the good times rolling. Sure, you spent every single Saturday, Sunday and Monday hungover but it was worth it. You think.

Maybe you didn’t remember the parties very well but hell, you knew you’d had fun. Plus, you were lucky enough to lose your virginity to the King on your fifteenth birthday and even if he pretended you didn’t exist once he started dating Nancy, it was worth it. Okay, so you weren’t totally over Steve but you were coping just fine. Carol didn’t let you mope for long. There were too many parties to go to.

Then one day, Steve Harrington is pushed to the very back door of your mind. Perched on your brother’s car, sharing a cigarette with him and his girlfriend, a pretty blue Camaro whips through the parking lot and slides into the parking spot across from you. A small, angry redhead bolts out, slamming the door and zips up to the middle school on a skateboard. Every head in the parking lot is turned to the muscle car and the gorgeous, denim-clad, mulleted blonde motherfucker. He takes your breath away. Takes Tommy and Carol’s breath away. The guys dripping in cool. Not another person like him has stepped foot in this midwestern hell hole. The three of you can’t wait to sink your claws in him. He flicks his cigarette away, a small hint of a smirk curling his lips and your eyes follow the Marlboro as it tumbles to the ground. The fucking guy didn’t even smoke half of it. The nicotine fiend in you is tempted to snatch it up, but that’s like, super uncool.

You watch as Tina and her girls eyes linger on the stranger, practically salivating at the way his ass looks in his jeans. It must take at least ten minutes for the fucker to pull his pants up.

“Who the hell is that?” Carol wonders aloud for the group.

“One bitchin’ dude,” Tommy scoffs, an impressed tilt to his voice.

;;;

Tommy moves fast. You know this. He had an easy way about him, friendly even though he was the biggest asshole you knew. That blue Camaro is parked on the curb in front of your house. Your parents are outside, doing the yard work necessary to prepare for the cold front sweeping in. Your whole life was spent in Hawkins so you know nothing else but god, do you yearn for year long summers.

You were eager to listen to the new record you’d just bought. A quick wave to your parents and you’re opening the front door, flooded with the sound of Metallica’s The Four Horsemen. Tommy’s pulled out his only metal album to impress the new kid. The feeling in your gut isn’t new. You used to get the same excited feeling whenever Steve was over. However, this was different because Steve knew you. He watched you grow up. You’d known him since you were little. This new guy hasn’t played Barbie’s with you from the age eight to twelve.

You take a deep breath before heading towards Tommy’s room, leaning against the doorframe. Tommy’s head banging obnoxiously, Carol is checking her nails looking bored and the blonde boy is nodding his head along to the bass line. He’s got a cigarette pinched to between his fingers and as he’s bringing the filter to his lips, he sees you.

He takes a drag, smirks and says, “Hey.”

You’ve never loved your brothers ability to make friends more.

“Hi,” you try to say in the coolest way you can.

Tommy pauses his thrashing and motions to you, “Oh, Billy! This is my sister.”

“Nice to meet you, Tommy’s sister,” he drawls.

You tell him your name, awkwardly lingering in the doorway before Carol’s tugging you inside.

“Whatcha got in the bag?” Billy asks, fingers pressing to the brown paper.

You swallow, “Uh, just a record.”

“Which one?”

You pull out the cellophane wrapped vinyl, displaying the copy of Out of the Cellar by Ratt you’d just excitedly purchased with your allowance.

“Oh, fuck yeah! Atta girl,” he cheers as he snatches it out of your hand.

The praise causes a flutter downstairs. Five minutes into meeting this fucking guy and you’re already a puddle. The excitement at impressing him is unmatched.

Billy shimmies around you, places a strong hand on your hip as he passes to stop the Metallica record and replace it with your new one. You plop down on the floor next to Carol, eyes drawing back up to Billy as he turns the volume up, cigarette hanging between his lips. He bobs his head, his earring dangling against his wispy curls and you don’t like feeling this arousal while in the same room as your brother and his girlfriend.

“Did you see Steve with the princess today? Ugh, gag me with a spoon,” Carol nudges your knee while mimics gagging herself.

Billy snorts, “What’s the deal with that guy? People kept telling me I was gonna be the new King, whatever the fuck that means.”

Tommy chimes in, “He used to be the King. We were good buddies until he started sticking his dick in the priss.”

“Steve’s nice,” you shrug. Only Carol knows what happened between the two of you and you’d sworn her to secrecy, too embarrassed to let your brother know you’d fallen for his best friend. She gives you a pointed look before rolling her eyes.

“He used to be cool, now he’s nice,” Tommy deflects, wiggling his fingers for emphasis. He pulls a beer of the sixer and tosses it to you, which you fumble to catch.

You tap your nail on the tap, trying your best to rid the memories of Steve kissing you late at night from your head. You know if you glance over to Billy, they’ll dissipate but then you’ll be imagining kissing him and you don’t want that either.

“So where’d you move from?” you ask, not looking up from the beer.

Billy sits next to you with the thud, his knee knocking yours which absolutely does not shoot heat to between your legs. He lifts his can to you, indicating he’d like to cheers you. Sometimes Tommy’s friends did things like this with you and while he wasn’t protective of you, he made you promise that friends were out of the question. You could not hook up with any of them. Acquaintances were fine and while Billy was only that right now, you know Tommy wanted to be good buddies with him so you were awaiting the conversation. You were getting ahead of yourself. A cheers does not mean Billy’s attracted to you.

“California,” he replies as you clink aluminum cans. “Much better than this shithole.”

“You’re telling me,” Carol whines, “I fucking hate this place.”

Billy drops his cigarette in the empty beer can sitting in the middle of the floor, apparently the designated ashtray. He leans his head back to look at you, “What’s there to do here?”

You feel shy under his gaze, almost choking on your swig of beer once your eyes meet his. You clear your throat and swallow hard, “Uh, parties, mostly. Hang out in the woods. Go to convenience stores.”

“Ah. I expected more hick shit. Ya know, tipping cows, shooting guns, kissing cousins,” Billy chuckles, biting his lip as his eyes dart between your brother and his girlfriend.

“Carol knows about kissing cousins,” Tommy sneers, throwing his girlfriend under the bus.

“Do you have to tell everyone?” she hurls a rolled up sock at him. She turns to Billy, “He’s exaggerating. We’re not even blood related.”

Billy laughs, a cackle that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You can’t help but giggle. You’d heard the story a million times. Carol was at a family reunion and didn’t even realize the guy was a distant cousin. However, shit, it’s a family reunion. Who’s trying to get their rocks off at a family reunion?

“You guys smoke grass?” Billy changes the subject and the three of you nod in unison. “Know where I can get some?”

“Eddie “The Freak” Munson,” Tommy tells him, “I think I have some, though. Hold you over in the meantime.” He gets up and sifts through his sock drawer, returning with a tied off ziploc bag to hand to Billy.

“And now,” Billy takes it and shoves it in his pocket, “We’re best buds.”

Tommy beams at the declaration. And with those words, Billy Hargrove has just become verboten. Damn it.

Tommy tells you as much when Billy leaves, rattling off about his dad being an asshole and he’s got to get home before he does.

“I saw those eyes,” Tommy raises a scolding finger at you, “Don’t even try it. He’s too cool.”

“Aw, Tommy,” Carol pouts, “Let her have some fun.”

“No,” you raise your hands defensively, “You didn’t see any eyes. I don’t even think he’s cute.”

Tommy scoffs, “Yeah, right. Even I think the guy is hot.”

Carol raises an eyebrow, “You going queer on me, big boy?”

“Me? Queer?” Tommy laughs, “Let me show you how untrue that is.”

“Okay, ew, I’m leaving,” you push yourself off the ground and run out of the room, closing the door behind you.

;;;

“Does Tina throw bitchin’ parties?” Billy asks you, taking a drag off his cigarette before passing it.

You take it and try to ignore the tingling feeling on your lips as you take a hit. You’re leaning against the trunk of his Camaro, Carol and Tommy are nearby but too busy making out to listen to the conversation.

“I guess?” you reply, “All the parties here kind of bleed together. They’re fun and all, just… the same thing.”

Billy looks over to your brother with his tongue down Carol’s throat, “They do that all the time, huh?”

“Yeah, you’ll get used to it,” you shrug.

“What about you?” he turns slightly towards you, “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

You can feel the way your cheeks redden, “I don’t know. No one’s really caught my attention, I guess.”

“Is he protective?”

You shake your head, “No, the opposite. Tommy doesn’t give a shit what I do. I just haven’t met anyone I like in that way.”

“Yeah,” Billy muses, “I know the feeling.”

That catches your attention. Every girl at Hawkin’s High is throwing themselves at him but not a single one special enough to tickle his fancy. You included.

“I’m young, anyways,” you deflect, “I have plenty of time to find the man of my dreams.”

“Oh, yeah?” Billy digs his canine into his lower lip, “What’s the motherfucker you’ve dreamed up like?”

You, you don’t say. “Oh, I don’t know!”

“You’ve thought about it. Is he nice, like King Steve?” Billy raises his eyebrows, “Is he a freak like Munson?”

No, he’s blonde with a mullet and pretty eyelashes.

“He hasn’t made himself known yet,” you urge, “Maybe he’s a millionaire, maybe he’s a rockstar.”

“You want Vince Neil?” he knocks he elbow into yours.

“I wouldn’t mind,” you shrug.

Billy cackles, “All you chicks are the same.”

You scoff, “Oh and guys aren’t? Like you’re not pining over Lita Ford.”

“Nah,” he laughs, “Not my thing.”

“What is your thing then?” you ask, eyes meeting briefly before you can’t handle the heat of them. Billy’s eyes are too pretty. The bluest you’ve ever seen.

“Someone real,” he says, sincerely and it tugs your heartstrings.

“Billy, the romantic,” you tease, shoving your hands in your pocket.

“Far from it, sweetheart,” he pats your shoulder before pushing himself off the bumper and heading into the building as the bell rings.

Sweetheart drips down your throat and curls around your heart.

;;;

It’s not much of a costume. It’s a short skirt, fishnets and a too tight top. You can say you’re Madonna but how many girls are going as Madonna. You just want to look hot. Want Billy to look at you like you’re more than Tommy’s little sister. Like you’re some video vixen and he just cannot keep his hands to himself. It’s a flourishing thought that you push deep down. Tommy can’t control you but you think of the conversation you’d hand the day before. Billy isn’t into you. He had the opportunity to say something and he didn’t. And one thing you’ve learned about boys your age is if they want it, they’ll make it known.

“Are you ready yet?” Carol’s asking as she peers into your bedroom. You scan her outfit up and down, you think maybe she’s channeling Madonna as well but you can’t pin exactly what she’s dressed as.

You wipe the corner of your mouth, fixing the smeared lipstick.

“Yeah, just about,” you mumble, reapplying your mascara.

“Billy’s meeting us there,” she sings, grinning wide at you in the mirror.

You roll your eyes, “Carol, he’s off limits and even if he wasn’t, I don’t like Billy like that.”

“Sure,” she purrs, slapping the doorframe, “Vamoose, pretty girl. I wanna get wasted.”

Tommy’s a bad driver. He was also drinking before he left so he’s even worse, by the time you get to the party you feel like you’ve already got the spins. You hold onto Carol’s wrist to ground yourself and Billy’s rushing up behind the two of you.

“Boo!” he shouts, pressing a hand to your lower back.

Carol shrieks but you’d seen him coming. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling the two of you two his chest. He reeks of whiskey and Marlboro Reds. Seems like Billy had a bit of pregaming himself.

“Hi, Billy,” the two of you sing in unison.

Tommy barrels around the car, running up from behind to jump onto Billy’s back which causes all of you to tumble to the ground. Carol screams, scolding Tommy about ruining her hair but you’re distracted by the laugh erupting from Billy, his lips so close to your ear you can feel his breath fanning against it. It makes you tingle all over and you desperately want to grab him and pull him closer, want to press your lips to his in a hungry kiss. Then it’s gone, he’s up from the ground with Tommy pulling him towards the keg and Carol’s reaching her hand down to you.

You stumble along with her and when you’re reaching the keg, Billy’s pumping it and filling cups for you and Carol.

“You’ve got to beat Steve’s record, Billy! Come on,” Tommy urges his friend, hands clasped tight around his shoulders.

You stand over by Carol and Tina, watching the way the brunette fucks Billy with her eyes. A pang of jealousy surges through your stomach but you chug from the red Solo cup to drown it out. You sway along with the Motley Crüe song, unable to stop your eyes from scanning the crowd for familiar chestnut hair and brown eyes. Carol must notice because she grabs your face and turns it to look at Billy. She wants you to get over Steve just as badly as you do. You notice Billy’s costume, you think he’s going for terminator but it’s laid back. An homage rather than a costume. His abs look nice, you imagine what they must feel like. Carol’s a good friend.

They lift Billy up, he bites around the tap and makes eye contact you for a brief second before beer is flooding into your mouth. He easily beats Steve’s record. Seems like he could’ve gone longer but the second he beats it, they’re pulling him down. He spits the foam out, beer dripping down his chin to his chest and it’s… a sight. They funnel inside but you stick by Carol.

“God, he’s so yummy,” Tina gushes, turning to you and Carol.

Carol agrees excitedly, winks at you and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Tina.

“What? Did you call dibs already?”

“God, no,” you say, a little too defensively. “I just have eyes and Carol wants to live vicariously through me. It’s not happening.”

“Well, I’m definitely not holding back,” Tina quips.

You imagine the two of you as cats, tails high and backs arched, ready to pounce.

“Go for it,” you shrug, holding your beer close to your chest.

You retreat first, heading inside in search of a better time. A spiked punch is in your future. It’s only slightly dampened when you see Nancy downing cup after cup in the kitchen, Steve upset and asking her to cool it. He doesn’t even notice your presence and that’s totally fine. You’re a fly on the wall like you usually are around him. Steve reaches for her cup again and they struggle for power until the force of their hands pulls the cup back and spills the sticky red punch all over her white sweater. Everyone reacts in shock and you have to still your mouth from the smile threatening against your lips as you quickly avert your attention.

When they flutter away, you copy Nancy. Downing as many cups as you can before you start to feel numb. Seeing Steve was a shock to your system. All prior feelings rush to the forefront of your brain and you want to find him, pull him into a empty bedroom and kiss him from head to toe. It’s a shame when you see him and Nancy lock themselves away in a bathroom. You linger, clutching your drink to your chest as you watch drunk teenagers dance the night away. Nancy doesn’t deserve Steve. He shouldn’t have to change to be with her. You liked Steve the way he was.

Steve opens the door and slams it behind him, he pushes passed out, shoulders colliding and when he turns to look at you, you notice tears in his eyes. The brunette is quick to swivel back around, stomping outside and you wonder what in the hell just happened in there. Half of you is tempted to follow him outside, offer comfort in whatever way you can but then you feel large, strong hands wrap around your waist. You tilt your head back to see Billy standing behind you with a drunk smile plastered on his face, his eyes are tinted red like he’s been smoking more than cigarettes.

He leans down, lips close to your ear so he can whisper, “Why are you hiding from us?”

“Hiding? I’m not hiding,” you argue, lifting your cup to explain further, “Where is everyone?”

“Backyard,” he smirks, releasing his grip and stumbling towards the sliding glass door.

He turns his head briefly to make sure you’re following him.

Tina’s backyard is trashed. You can’t imagine what the cleanup is going to be like tomorrow. As soon as you step out the door, Billy grabs your hips again and urges you to the left. You look down and see what looks like five smashed beer bottles, right outside the door. You mumble a thank you before wiggling out of his grip. The last thing you need is for Tommy to see it. The blonde guides you over to the group and you collapse down next to your brother and Carol.

“Steve and Nancy just got in a fight,” you tell them before bringing your cup to your lips.

Carol raises her eyebrows and leans closer, giving you a look you know all too well. You quickly shake your head, slouching your shoulders and trying to sink away from her gaze. Tommy lets out a cackle, leaning his body back with it.

“We heard, he threw punch on her?”

“Well, no, he didn’t throw it on her, it just spilled,” you explain, watching in your peripheral how Tina leans her body against Billy’s and whispers in his ear. Immediately, your stomach turns but you ignore it. There’s no way you could be jealous, you don’t even know the guy yet and you’re going to make sure you don’t stew on how attractive he is. You know how mad Tommy will be and besides, your brother isn’t exactly loyal to you. You imagine if you did make a move on Billy and he rejected you, Tommy wouldn’t stop hanging out with him. Or god forbid, he doesn’t reject you but instead breaks your heart and Tommy would still pick Billy’s side. You know this about your brother.

“But they went into the bathroom and I guess argued, because Steve came storming out and he looked like he was crying,” you continue, picking at a loose thread on your skirt.

Tommy snorts, “I knew they wouldn’t last long.”

Carol nods along with him, “She’s too prissy for Steve. I bet the argument was something stupid too.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, allowing yourself to turn slightly and just in time to catch Tina shoving her tongue down Billy’s throat. You’re quick to turn back to your brother and Carol.

“You guys wanna leave soon?” Carol asks, you know she’s trying to be casual but only asking to save you the displeasure of watching Billy and Tina make out for the rest of the night.

“Yeah, I’m pretty over it,” you admit, stretching your arms up.

Tommy scoffs, “You guys are so boring. It’s still early.”

It is, you don’t even feel drunk yet but you are bored and too many unpleasant feelings are swirling around you. If you get any more alcohol in you, you’re libel to throw yourself at Steve, or worse, Billy.

“This party kind of blows, though,” Carol argues and wraps her arms around Tommy, whispering something in his ear. Whatever she said has him grinning and jumping to his feet. You’d rather not know.

;;;

You’re sitting in study hall, trying to stay awake when a note lands on your desk. You turn and see Steve failing at trying to look innocent, he fake coughs in his hand while stretching his opposite arm up and then back down. His eyes meet yours briefly and he quickly looks away, a hint of smile on his lips. You unfold the note and see Steve’s messy handwriting scrawled lopsided on the top of the page.

Wanna listen to my Abba record?

You stare at it a little dumbfounded, because it was an inside joke between the two of you. It was his lame way of trying to get you alone at one of his parties. It was only the second time you guys had ever messed around and as your relationship continued, it became something Steve would say just to make you blush or laugh. Worse, though, it turned into a code for sneaking away to hook up. His fight with Nancy must’ve been more serious than you thought. This was Steve’s olive branch, and it was sleazy but it was also romantic, unfortunately.

You write back in neat, straight handwriting, Right here in study hall?

You carefully slide the paper onto his desk and turn back to your textbook. From the corner of your eye, you see Steve grinning wide as he reads what you’ve wrote before furiously writing and handing it back.

Is that a yes?

It’s a maybe. I don’t think Mr. Delfin would appreciate it.

Fair enough. The albums at my house anyway. After school then?

You chew on your bottom lip. It would be very easy to fall back into this but you have plans with your brother, Carol and Billy. However, the prospect of being alone with Steve seems way more appealing. And you can’t help yourself, you think about Steve more than you think about anything else. You absolutely miss touching him and you’ve been rather frustrated since he started going out with Nancy.

Meet me in the library after school.

;;;

You made some dumb excuse to Carol about having to work on a class project in the library. She bought it but tried to insist on you ditching it entirely to get to know Billy better. Which you knew Carol was aware you wouldn’t go for.

When Steve walks up to you, you’re standing at the window. He leans against the wall and looks at you quizzically.

“Whatcha doing?”

You watch as Tommy and Carol pile into his car and drive off, the blue Camaro following after them and you say to Steve, “Just making sure it’s… safe. Okay, let’s go.”

Steve let’s out a scoff, “Don’t want them to see you with me?”

You crane your head sideways as you look up at him, “I’m ditching them for you. They’d be mad.”

Steve nods his head, pursing his lips like he can taste your words. You keep your hands to yourself on the walk to his BMW, you’d learned to do as much when you guys were fooling around. Steve talks a lot on the drive to Loch Nora. None of it really makes much sense, or is important but you like listening to his voice. It’s adorable, he stutters every so often and rambles on, losing his thought and then rushing into a completely new thought. The reason you like it so much is you’ve seen Steve hit on girls throughout the years and weirdly enough, this is how he does it so you feel special when it’s directed at you.

His house is empty, it usually is but what always shocked you was how clean it was. A teenage boy lived there alone for eight months of the year, you expected it to be messy but then again, you’re sure they have a cleaning lady coming often. Steve leads you up the stairs and to his bedroom. It smells clean, like laundry detergent and his cologne. Your stomach is doing flips at the familiarity of it all, you’ve been in this exact position many times before and you’re anticipating his next moves. As you sit on his bed, Steve wraps his hand around your hip and lays you on your back. You shyly smile up at him, the weight of his body makes you tingle all over and his big, brown eyes look into yours. There hasn’t been a night in months that you haven’t pictured this exact moment happening, ushering you to sleep and hopefully dream of Steve.

He pushes tucks your hair behind your ear as he cracks a smile, teeth bright and white while his cheeks flush just a smidge. You want to tell him how much you’ve missed him but him and Nancy have only been broken up a couple of days, you know what this is. That’s your downfall, though, you’ll bend over backwards to have Steve. When his lips caress yours, a small moan rises up your throat involuntarily. It’s a soft, sweet kiss and he gently holds your cheek as he does it. Your fingers snake into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer so you can deepen the kiss. Steve takes things slow, he always did and you’ve always been bursting at the seams, eager for more. You drag your tongue against his lower lip, begging for entrance and he allows you easily. Your body lights up, feels like you’re on fire when he grinds just barely on top of you. His thigh between your legs presses against your center and it makes your head feel heavy, falling apart beneath him. Steve’s like a drug and you’ve been sober for far too long. Your desperation makes you feel antsy, you want things to progress much faster than they are but Steve is stubborn, he sets the pace. He’s different than any other man you’ve been with, he’ll kiss you until your jaw hurts and you’re trembling. That seems to be his intent now because when you try to pull away from it, he grabs your jaw and kisses you harder. You whimper against his lips, wriggling your hips to demonstrate how badly you need him.

Steve pulls back and smiles down at you, stroking his thumb along the apple of your cheek, “You’re so beautiful.”

You flush, grinning from ear to ear as you avert your eyes, unable to hold eye contact. With a giggle you tell him, “So are you.”

He lets out a small, breathless laugh, “Thank you.”

Steve places kisses along your jaw and down your neck, he licks against your skin but he’s always been careful not to leave any marks. Back when you two were fooling around regularly, you weren’t so careful with him and you’d litter his neck and chest with love bites. Steve could always explain them away much easier than you could.

He continues kissing against your collarbone as he starts unbuttoning your shirt. You inhale sharply, goosebumps rising all over your skin when his fingers brush against your now exposed stomach. Steve’s lips descend once he gets your blouse completely undone, brushing them against the curve of your breast. This is the area he doesn’t hold back, sucking and biting gently at the tender skin until it’s raw and sore. You know you’ll have a bruise there by the end of the night but you don’t mind. It’ll be proof this isn’t a dream. In sync, you prop up on your elbows as Steve leans back and reaches around to unclasp your bra. You dispose of the blouse and bra before reaching for the hem of Steve’s polo and pull it over his head. You smooth your hands over his head before he leans down and licks at your perked nipple, his Bambi eyes looking up at you curiously. You whine, arching into the touch as your eyes flutter shut. For a moment, you picture blonde curls and blue eyes but quickly push the thought away as shame begins spreading through your stomach. You try not to think about it too much, not willing to admit even to yourself that you want Billy in that way.

“Steve,” you pant out, for good measure.

He sucks your nipple between his lips as he hand moves to squeeze and knead at your other breast. Another moan falls out of your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut and knit your fingers into his hair. He grazes his fingertips across your neglected nipple and laps against the other. It’s intoxicating, you focus on his soft his hair feels between your fingers. Your thighs tingle as heat surges through your stomach and straight to your core. It’s quiet in the house, in the room, the only sound is Steve’s mouth on your and your paired labored breathing.

When he moves back up to crash his lips into yours and press his body close, you feel his cock hard in his jeans against your navel. He grunts softly against your lips moving both his hands to grip your jaw as he licks into your mouth eagerly. This is unlike Steve, he usually doesn’t express desperation until he’s already inside of you. It gets your hopes up, like maybe he’s been missing you just as badly as you’ve been missing him. And maybe that’s wishful thinking but in this moment, you’ll take it. You grab onto his waist and writhe up against him, letting him know you’re just as needy.

Steve pulls back from the sloppy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips as his hands lower and he’s making quick work getting your jeans and panties down to your ankles. They hang awkwardly there, your tennis shoes are still on but you're really liking the frenzy of it all. Steve props himself on his knees and does the same with his jeans and briefs, pushing them down to his knees as his long cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. God, you’ve missed the sight of it, your mouth waters as you breathe heavy. Memories of the way it felt in your mouth flood your mind, causing your hips to jerk up in arousal and Steve smiles down at you, clearing taking the movement as a compliment. He circles his hand around himself, pumping a few times before dragging his head through your folds.

“Steve…” you moan out slowly, another surge of wetness flowing out of you.

“Yeah?” he breathes out, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes look glassy. It’s such a pretty view, you wiggle against him.

“Need you,” you admit, shyly.

He licks against his bottom lip before rubbing his tip against your fluttering hole, “You been with anyone else since me?”

You shake your head, knowing the reason behind his question, “I’m clean.”

Steve nods, his hair bouncing with the movement before he sinks his cock inside of you. You gasp out, grabbing onto his bedspread while you melt at the sensation. It’s been way too long. You’re tight, haven’t had anything stretch you out since the last time you had Steve like this. He grunts softly, eyes squeezing shut as he slowly sheathes himself completely inside you.

“Oh,” you moan out, feeling him fill you out in the most delicious way. You force your eyes to stay open, wanting to watch the way Steve’s face contorts in pleasure as he stills his movements. He grazes his fingers up your sides as he lowers himself, his chest flush against yours while his lips find yours again. The kiss is languid, matching the stroke of him between your legs. It’s sensual which is typical from Steve but a stark contrast to the short foreplay. It takes your breath away, regardless. He pulls back an inch, panting against your lips as he rolls his hips deeper, running his hand down to hold onto your hip.

You try to spread your legs further, but the clothing around your ankles makes it difficult. Your hands scratch down his back and you arch your back, moving your hips to chase your high. Steve grunts out and then bites his bottom lip hard, moving his hips faster and more wildly than before. It’s exactly what you need as the pressure building inside you is pulled taut, you’re so close you can almost see it.

“Fuck me, Steve,” you whine out and he makes a pretty, needy sound that has you reeling. It was the type of sound that was the reason you’d always loved going down on Steve.

He rocks his hips into you harder and faster, pulling out little breathy moans from you as you cling onto his back.

“You like that?” he pants out, his hair bouncing with every thrust and you nod up at him, eyebrows furrowing as your orgasm looms closer and closer.

You press your palm against his cheek and he kisses you deeply, smoothing his hands up and down your sides as he moves against you. The kiss pushes you over the edge, a sharp cry flooding out of you as you climax around him, your walls fluttering around his dick and Steve starts making the familiar sounds, desperate and whiny little noises. He pulls out of you quickly, spilling his load over your stomach with a strangled groan. You hum happily, eyes dancing across his gorgeous face. He stuffs himself back in his pants and walks over to his hamper, grabbing a shirt and walking back over to wipe his mess from your navel. He pants as he does it and when he moves away again to dispose of the shirt, you pull your clothes back on.

“You want me to just drop you at home or back at school?” he asks, his eyes everyone but on you.

“Home is fine,” you say, trying to hide the way your heart is splitting yet again from Steve Harrington.

The car ride there is awkward and when you’re a block away, you notice Tommy and Billy’s cars parked on the street.

“Just drop me here,” you say softly and Steve pulls over. As you get out, he leans over and grabs your wrist. You kneel down and lean back in the car. He kisses you gently and then smiles awkwardly at you.

“I’ll see you later,” you say before shutting the door and slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

You walk up to the front door, noticing as Steve makes a u-turn and heads back in the direction of Loch Nora. Tears are threatening to break free but you will them back down, stepping inside the house and waving at Tommy, Billy and Carol as they’re lounged on the couch, watching music videos. You close yourself in the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your hair down and fixing your makeup. Once you feel you’ve calmed down enough, you make your way back out to the living room and very nicely ask Billy if you could bum a smoke.

“I’ll join ya,” he says, standing from the couch.

Tommy moves to follow but Carol grabs his wrist and pulls him back down, leaning close to whisper something and he looks like he’s about to protest until she starts kissing his neck. You make a face and lead Billy out the back door. You sit down on the plastic furniture and graciously accept the cigarette he hands over. Billy pulls out his zippo and lights it for you. Seeing him, unfortunately, eases the way your heart aches. Deep down, you know Billy would do the same thing Steve just did to you but you try not to focus on that. You feel ridiculous that you thought things might be different this time. It’s obvious that you’ve always been an easy lay to Steve and it hurts that you’re still that.

“How was the library?” he asks as he lights his own cigarette.

You shrug, “Really exciting at first, until it sucked.”

“So what’s his name?” Billy asks, smirking up at you as he exhales the thick smoke.

You blush, dropping your head before replying, “That obvious, is it?”

Billy lets out a big, belly laugh. It’s a nice sound, you want to make him laugh over and over.

“I can always tell when a woman’s had an orgasm,” he quips, sliding his tongue out almost obscenely along his lower lip. It’s insane how quickly he’s making you feel better, no matter how blunt he is.

“Yeah, well, his name isn’t important because the whole thing,” you gesture your hands in big circles, “wasn’t important to him.”

Billy inhales sharply, gritting his teeth, “Well… speaking from experience… ‘cause I am one so.. yeah, all guys want the same thing.”

You curl your lips down in a frown as you chew over his words, deciding you’re not much better than Steve because you went along with it for the same reasons. You wanted to fuck him and shit, you got that.

“Sometimes,” you giggle softly, bringing the cigarette up to your lips, “Girls are after the same thing.”

The blonde laughs again and you wanna breathe it in, wanna taste his laughs and his lips and his whole body. He’s different than Steve, physically rougher around the edges which makes him that much more interesting. Exotic maybe. His hair doesn’t look nearly as soft as Steve’s, not nearly as cared for. You’d seen the Farrah Fawcett spray in Steve’s bathroom and you can guarantee Billy doesn’t use the same thing.

“I’ve seen my fair share of that,” he agrees, “but I think a big difference is once guys have it once, they don’t want it again but girls do.”

“Or they want it again when it’s easy,” you point out, reaching over to snatch the beer from his hand and taking a big gulp from it.

“Beware of those assholes,” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking at you seriously.

You groan softly, “I was trying to stay away from him.”

“Who is it?” Billy asks, curiously. “I won’t tell.”

“But you so will,” you gush, bringing your hand to your face, “It’s premium gossip.”

“You think I’m that type?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow up.

You turn to him, “This is juicy. It’s be hard not to tell people.”

“What? Harrington?”

Willing your face to remain still, “No.”

Billy scoffs, “King Steve. No way. That is something.”

“It’s not Steve,” you seethe, though you know your face is giving it away.

He chuckles softly and grabs the beer back, “Your secret is safe with me but uh… you could do better.”

Billy gets up from the chair, tossing his cigarette before walking back inside.