#potential steve harrington x reader

[izzysink]

𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 𝟷𝟽𝟺𝟿 ✎ 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑠: 𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 ✎ 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ✎ 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡

𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑜 = @lanalosty0uu - you should totally check out their steve x reader time travel fic here on Tumblr!

I'm currently undecided on who to pair the reader with atm lol 🌝 but that means that it's kinda up to you 🫵 :0 if you have a character you'd like for the pairing, drop a comment and if I like them or feel it fits with the story I'll use them!! but!!! I won't write poly so you've gotta pick one 😔 ik ik it's a hard choice babes I know you can do it!! can you tell I like exclamation points

“I’m heading out! I’ll be back after my comp-sci class!” you call to your friend Hannah from the door of your dorm at Hawkins Community College, waiting a moment for a sleepy response from the pile of blankets at the end of your roommate’s bed. You shut the door, not bothering to lock it because you knew Hannah had a class pretty soon anyway. You whistle down the small corridor of the singular dormitory for HCC, checking your bag for the essentials; laptop, phone, charger, wallet, keys. 

You’d never expected to end up in Hawkins. Your parents had envisioned you going to an ivy league since you were little, enrolling you in extracurriculars and tutoring as soon as you could read and write; but you didn’t really want that for yourself, you weren’t the best at school - not the worst, but you weren’t yale level, like your parents wanted. After your parents insisted you only apply for places like Harvard and MIT, it didn’t surprise you that by the end of senior year you had no college to drive off to like so many of your friends. You had scrambled to find a place at any college that would take you, scraping the barrel for empty spaces, until a college from the middle-of-nowhere-Indiana, Hawkins, accepted you and your average test scores for a computer science course.

Walking to the campus, you check your phone, giggling at the bickering of your friends on the group chat and the tiktoks Hannah sent you last night. Hawkins Community College has its own campus, but it uses the old high school building as well (a new building was made for Hawkins High in the 2000s, and the old one went out of use until the community college picked it up and refurbished it for the Arts building).

You didn’t have any arts classes, but there was a little known shortcut through the old high school building to the main college campus, and you had made the route your little ritual of the week. It calmed you to walk through the old halls and be saturated in that old school smell and oil paints, getting to see unfinished paintings hung on the walls to dry or works in progress sat against the wall. There was a corridor on the way to the shortcut that was lined with shelving units, all stuffed full with bowles and sculptures and mugs. Your favourite little ritual was to see which ceramics had been kilned, picked up, or painted each week you had your comp-sci 101 class. 

This week, the swirling set of green plates you’d been eyeing for yourself had disappeared, whisked away by their creator. In their place sat an array of little figurines, you guessed they were for a board game of some sort with their angry poses and weapons, axes and magic wands held delicately in their hands. You were entranced in the precision and detail of the mini figures, quiet admiration floating in your mind as you continued on to your class.

The shortcut was just through a door on the left, it led into a small, little used drama room that had a back entrance door to the yard of the lecture building of Hawkins College. Checking your bun in the glass of the old classroom door, you made sure your claw clip was still in place as you opened the door and–

A chorus of sound burst from the dimly lit room, a small group of high school boys sat around a table in matching black and white shirts, a boy your age with a mop of curly hair sat at the head of the table on a plush armchair. The table was filled with dice and figurines and pens and paper, you guessed it was DnD, you had a couple of friends back home who played, and you’d even sat in on a couple of sessions with them before deciding it wasn’t for you.

As soon as you were noticed, all sound stopped, their faces turning to you in surprise. “Oh my god I’m so sorry,” you said, inching past the table towards the back door, “I didn’t realise this room was being used, I’ll be out in a moment don’t worry,” you flash a sheepish grin to the hoard of teenage boys gaping at you. Insecurity bubbled in your stomach a bit, they’re like 12, you thought, snap out of it, you’re in college now! 

Nobody replied, which you thought was a bit rude, but oh well, you had a degree to earn, and you probably wouldn’t see them again anyway. You opened the back door to head to the IT building, but when you stepped outside, it felt like you were sucked into an 80s time capsule, neons and shoulder pads and straight leg jeans assaulted your eyes from every corner. Also, why were there so many teenagers? The high school was a 20 minute walk away from the college. You got a couple of odd looks from some seniors, all decked out with massive hair and even bigger earrings, you could tell some cheerleaders were judging your outfit, which, rude, you thought you looked pretty cute today. You were wearing some baggy low waist jeans with the mini Ugg boots you’d gotten for Christmas a few months earlier, as well as a baby tee with a cute cat graphic on the front. To top it all off, you’d worn your favorite jacket and some little hoop earrings.

Walking backwards, you went back into the minor safety of the inside, at least the drama room had less kids having an 80s phase. You paused once the door shut with a click, looking around confusedly at the room you hadn’t noticed when you walked through seconds prior. You were pretty sure that whiteboard wasn’t there before, the same with that rack of costumes and those desks piled in the corner. The thing that caught you off guard the most was the writing on the whiteboard. There, marked in neat red pen, was the date 10/03/1986.

The hell? 

You tried to ignore the boys sitting around the table who were obviously staring at you as you fished your phone out of your bag, checking the date, yeah, 10/03/2025. You looked up and down from your phone to the whiteboard a couple times before awkwardly walking back to the other door. You’d take the long way then. 

You opened the door before immediately closing it again. 

Hell. No. 

“You okay there, princess?” your head snapped up to meet the eyes of the guy at the head of the table. Looking at him more closely, he looked like a total 80s metal head, crazy hair and rings on each finger. You mouthed a response, not really knowing what to say, I’m stuck in an 80s revival high school, surrounded by teenagers with big hair and all of the dates on the walls say it's 1986 when last time I checked it was 2025 and I’m late to my comp-sci class and-, you get the point.

Since you figured you didn’t have anything else to lose you asked, “sorry, um- where am I?” A younger boy, you guessed a freshman, with baby fat and a mess of curls made a face at your response, “Hawkins High?” he answered with a lisp blinking at you confusedly as you panicked over the new information. How could you have gotten from your college to a building 20 minutes away?

Scratch that, what the hell was going on?

“Okay, thanks,” you say distractedly as you think of what to do next, you look back to the eldest boy, you really needed to catch his name, “Do–” you were cut off by the bell, a lethargic pickup of footsteps outside the door telling you that it was lesson time next, not the end of school.

A chorus of groans rang out in the room as the boys got up dejectedly to get to their next class. You were swept up in the wave of kids exiting the room before you could get another word in edgewise and you found yourself back in the middle of an 80s tornado as the boys dispersed to their respective classes.

The one who had sat at the head of the table leant against the wall as you stood in the middle of the corridor, marveling at the disappearance of your favorite pottery shelves, instead replaced by school lockers and wall decals with various Hawkins High memorabilia. Students swerved around you, giving you odd looks and confused faces, you were clearly in the wrong place.

When the corridor emptied and the halls quietened, the boy spoke up, “I take it you’re not from around here? I’m Eddie,” you spared him a glance before introducing yourself. Don’t get you wrong, he seemed sweet and all, but your mind was a little preoccupied to engage in small-talk.

You decided to at least leave the school, it would be really awkward if a teacher found a college student just wandering the halls, but then again, looks like we’re in the 80s now, and from what your parents had told you about growing up in the 80s, most people wouldn’t care that much about some rando in the school.

You thought it better not to test your luck. “I’m… gonna go,” you tell Eddie, not waiting for a response before beelining it back the way you came. Navigating the hallways, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder at how different everything looked, how there was still art on the walls, but done by different people, there were club posters smattered around the school, basketball tryouts were next week apparently, and the walls were almost pristine compared to the paint and grime smudged college block it had become almost 40 years in the future.

You sped-walked through the front office, trying to make it seem like you weren’t not supposed to be there, and burst into the midday sun, tension melting out of your muscles immediately once you escaped the high school.

You stood there for a few minutes, wondering what to do. You didn’t want to even think the utterly stupid idea that kept prodding at your mind. Worried that if you allow yourself to question it that you’d go insane. Not that this situation wasn’t already insane.

You heard your stomach rumble. Well, food didn’t seem like such a bad start.

[heartbreak-sandwich]

💌Red Letters to Nowhere💌

A/N: Chapter 2 is FINALLY here! Thank you for being so patient with me. I've been having a hard time writing the longer winded chapters lately. In Chapter 2, your first day at your new school wasn't as bad as you thought it would be -- that is, until the day ends, and Billy is less than thrilled with your choice of new friends (angst incoming - no other content warnings for this one).

Read on Ao3 ❤️‍🔥 Chapter One 📖 Master List 🌈

💌CHAPTER TWO: Certain Type of People💌

You spit your toothpaste into the sink, rinsing the last of it down the drain, and jumped with a gasp when you straightened back up to see Billy standing behind you in the mirror. He chuckled and patted you lightly on the back before greeting you with sleep still lingering in his voice.

“Morning, new kid.” He smiled as he opened the mirror cabinet and grabbed his own toothbrush, slathering it with a thick line of toothpaste before getting to work, brushing back and forth vigorously, still smirking around his mouthful.

“Morning,” you mumbled, putting your toothbrush back in its spot in the cabinet and closing it, realizing Billy’s sharp, blue eyes still connected with yours in the mirror. “What?” you asked, your cheeks tinting pink at the heat of his stare. Billy just shrugged, still keeping his eye contact until he pushed past you to spit his toothpaste into the sink. You rolled your eyes and left the bathroom, trudging to Max’s room to make sure she was ready to leave for school.

Max was slinging her backpack over her shoulder, her skateboard resting under her opposite arm, and she looked up as you entered her room. You could tell she was nervous even though you were sure she would never admit it out loud.

“You ready?” She gave you a quick nod, and you turned back the way you came, making your way into the kitchen with Max on your heels. You grabbed the three pieces of toast you had prepared before you finished getting ready and handed one to Max who quickly crunched a bite out of it. You both traveled to the living room where your backpack was waiting.

Billy appeared just a moment later in his denim jacket with a cigarette ready between his lips, keys jingling in his hand. You handed him one of the pieces of toast, and he looked at you like you were insane.

“What’s this?” he asked around his cigarette, glaring down at the offering.

“Breakfast,” you answered, crunching a bite out of your own toast. He finally accepted the toast from your outstretched hand, squinting with suspicion at the kind gesture.

“Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled before striding past you and Max to open the front door. He didn’t wait for either of you as he approached his Camaro, quickly sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the engine with a loud roar. “You guys coming or what? We’re going to be late!” Billy was already impatient. That didn’t take long.

You and Max exchanged a puzzled look before you both exited the home, closing the door behind you, and got into Billy’s car. The ride to school was silent with the exception of crunching toast until Billy grumbled.

“God damn, I can hear everybody chewing in this fucking car,” he hissed before pushing a cassette tape into the player and turning the volume up to an earsplitting level, Judas Priest’s You Got Another Thing Coming rattling the speakers as his led foot kicked in, and he sped down the road toward town.

When you reached the Hawkins High parking lot, the three of you got out of the car, and Billy didn’t look back at you or Max as he slammed his door, flicking his cigarette onto the asphalt and strutting toward the front of the building. The ogling eyes of each girl he walked past were so painfully obvious, it almost made you sick to your stomach. The worst part was the arrogance that oozed out of him with every swaggering step he took and every high five and clap on the back he received from the boys that approached him. He loved this.

“Ugh,” Max scoffed.

“Yep,” you said dryly, knowing she had just come to the same conclusion you did. The two of you exchanged a look before meandering toward the front of the building, Max hopping on her skateboard and veering off to the right to find the Hawkins Middle entrance.

After a visit to the office where Janice, the school secretary with way-too-long purple nails, presented you with your class schedule and a scrap of paper with your locker number and combination on it, you managed to find its location without having to ask anyone - thank God. You were busy fighting with your combination lock when you felt someone run into you from the back.

You stumbled forward, dropping the stack of papers Janice had given you as they flowed all over the floor. You immediately felt embarrassment wash over you as you squatted down to collect them, trying to put them back in order, and you noticed a pair of Nike sneakers and bent denim clad knees in front of you. A boy in a green sweater with tall chestnut hair was helping to gather your papers.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized, handing you the remainder of your paperwork. “Tommy doesn’t know when to use his inside manners.” He looked at you with friendly, hazel eyes and a warm, crooked smile. You both stood up at the same time.

“Don’t worry about it,” you finally said quietly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush growing on your cheeks. “And thanks.” He nodded, his smile unwavering.

“Anytime.” He held out his hand. “Steve Harrington. You’re new here, right?” You took his hand, giving it a firm shake.

“Yeah, I am. I’m Y/N.” Steve nodded again and looked like he was about to say something more before a boy with short brown hair and freckles appeared at his side and punched him in the shoulder.

“Don’t be rude, Harrington. Are you going to introduce us to your new friend?” Tommy nodded in your direction as a shorter girl with long brown hair and a pink sweater slid out from behind him as he draped his arm over her shoulders. She blew a bubble and popped her gum as she eyed you up and down, waiting for Steve to oblige Tommy’s request.

“Y/N, this is Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins,” Steve said through a sigh as he gestured to each of them respectively. Before Tommy and Carol could join the conversation, the morning bell rang, and the sea of students started to part in different directions.

“I’ve got to get going,” you told them with a soft wave. “It was nice to meet you guys.”

“See you around!” Steve called after you as you beelined for your first class at the end of the hall. You sucked in a deep breath before entering the classroom, praying the teacher wouldn’t make you stand at the head of the class and introduce yourself.

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By the time lunch rolled around, you were exhausted. You made your way back to your locker to exchange your textbooks for your copy of The Outsiders. You were ready for a break, so you decided to explore outside beyond the football field to find a place to read. On your way outside, you passed by Billy who was standing in a circle of people wearing expensive shoes and letterman’s jackets, all talking loudly about someone named Tina who was hosting a party that Friday. You met his eyes, but only briefly because he quickly looked away to refocus his attention on the conversation in his circle, obviously not wanting to be bothered. Go figure.

Beyond the football field, you found the edge of a seemingly thick forest. Breaking through the line of trees, you walked for a few minutes until you noticed a picnic table in a small clearing. It was a neat little spot, and you wondered what it was doing all the way out here. You didn’t see anyone else around, so you set your backpack down on the table and took a seat at one of the mossy benches, opening your paperback and immediately losing yourself in its pages.

After a few moments, the rustling of leaves startled you. Your head snapped in the direction of the sound to meet the gaze of a pair of friendly, deep brown doe eyes nestled beneath a mess of long, dark, curly hair.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” the man said, holding up a hand. “Are you…here to buy?” You stared at him, perplexed.

“Buy?” You furrowed your brows and continued to stare.

“Or not,” he deduced with a grin. “People don’t usually come all the way out here unless they’re looking for me.”

“Oh,” you responded flatly. “Sorry. I didn’t realize this was somebody’s spot. I just wanted a quiet place to read.”

“During the lunch hour?” He smirked at you and crossed his arms. “Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you before.”

“You haven’t. I just moved here.”

“A month into the school year?” He whistled loudly. “Rough.” He took a seat on the bench across from you, clattering a black lunch box onto the table in front of him. “I’m Eddie.” He held out his hand for you to shake, and you obliged.

“I’m Y/N.” He made surprisingly deep eye contact and smiled as he repeated your name.

“Y/N. Charmed.” You blushed slightly and hoped Eddie didn’t notice, but his grin made it obvious that he did.

You surveyed the patches and pins on his denim vest – Megadeth, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest. His style was different, alternative, and he noticed you eyeing him.

“You like music?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye, clasping his hands together and resting his elbows on the table.

“Sure. I can tell you do, too,” you answered with a cheeky smile.

“Is it that obvious?” He scoffed and looked down at his hands for a moment. “Do you smoke?”

“I never really liked the smell of cigarettes.” You scrunched up your nose at the thought, and Eddie cleared his throat with a chuckle.

“Uh, not that kind of smoke.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he waited for you to answer.

“I don’t get it.” Eddie sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Grass? Weed? Do you smoke weed?” You felt embarrassment rise to your cheeks as you responded.

“Oh, right. I have before, but it’s not a regular thing,” you answered, fidgeting with your book on the table.

“Consider it a welcome gift,” Eddie declared, opening his lunch box and handing you a small baggie with a tiny green nugget inside.

“Oh…thanks, I guess.” You gave him a kind smile as you pocketed your baggie and closed your book.

“Don’t mention it.” Eddie closed up his lunchbox and stood up from his bench. “Tragic news on the horizon.”

“What’s that?” Eddie let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

“It’s about time to get back to class.”

“Oh, right A travesty.” You slung your backpack over your shoulder and continued to make small talk with Eddie as you both marched your way back to the school, parting ways when you emerged into the foyer.

What you hadn’t noticed was a pair of blue eyes burning into you from across the parking lot as they watched you walk into the building with Eddie Munson by your side and a smile on your face.

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The rest of the day went relatively smooth, but you were glad to be heading home after so much excitement. Returning to your locker a final time, you collected your study necessities for the night.

“Hey,” a familiar voice greeted as you slammed your locker closed.

“Oh, hi,” you answered. Eddie’s smile widened when you returned his greeting. “I just wanted to ask you –”

“Y/N!” Billy’s voice boomed in the hallway over every other sound, causing passersby to stare in your direction.

“Billy.” Your voice was small. Why was he yelling at you?

“Time to go,” he said flatly, staring daggers into Eddie whose face fell into a frown.

“Sure,” you answered. “Just one second. Eddie wanted to ask me –”

“I’m not your fuckin’ chauffeur. I don’t wait. Let’s go. Now,” Billy demanded, his voice getting louder by the second, hands balling into fists at his sides.

“It’s okay. I’ll catch you tomorrow,” Eddie conceded with a tight lipped smile and a half wave as he hurried in the opposite direction of where Billy stood. You scoffed and glared at Billy before pushing past him and stomping out to the parking lot.

Max was already waiting beside the blue Camaro when you arrived with Billy sauntering behind you with his usual swagger, taking a moment to wave at some girls who were giggling and whispering as they crossed his path. You rolled your eyes and opened the passenger door for Max to get into the back seat before seating yourself and slamming the door closed.

Billy’s mood was icy, and you could practically feel the eggshells under your feet as soon as he sat down.

“Don’t slam my door,” he said flatly, keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead.

“Don’t be a dick to me in front of my friends,” you countered, folding your arms across your chest. “Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson is not your friend.”

“Right. Because you get to decide who my friends are.” You glared out your window, wishing you could be anywhere else when –

“Hey!” Billy grabbed your wrist hard enough to get your attention and held it up as he spoke through gritted teeth, his menacing eyes searing into yours. “There are a certain type of people in this world you stay away from.” Billy’s grip on you tightened, and your eyes brimmed with tears. “And that guy, Y/N,” he seethed, squeezing harder. “That guy is one of them.”

Billy shoved your wrist back into you, and you turned your body to look out your window again. You could see Max’s worried expression in the side view mirror as a tear escaped and ran down your cheek. What the fuck was his problem?

The rest of the drive home was silent, and Billy didn’t utter another word or even look in your direction again until dinner time.

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You were setting the table when he entered the dining room and took his usual seat.

“Smells great, Susan,” he gushed with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Thank you, Billy,” your mom replied, pressing a hand to her heart. “It’ll be ready in just one second.” She hadn’t stopped talking about how impressed she was with Billy’s manners since she met him. You rolled your eyes at his display. What a kiss ass. You could feel his eyes on you as you finished your task and sat down across the table from him, but you avoided making eye contact.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Billy fidgeted with his knife, tapping and scraping it on his plate before sighing dramatically, tipping his chair backward onto two legs. You finally looked at him, and he was still staring directly at you.

“Did you want something?” You weren’t amused by his method of garnering your attention, and you were even less thrilled with the way he had spoken to you earlier. Billy leaned forward in his chair and rested his hands on the table, speaking in a hushed voice.

“I wanted to say sorry. For earlier.” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at his apology.

“Okay, I guess. Thanks,” you answered tentatively, your eyes narrowing.

“I just –” he shifted in his seat again and chewed on the inside of his cheek as he chose his words carefully. “I have a reputation to uphold, you know? The pressure is indescribable, but it has its perks. If people see you hanging around with The Freak and they know you’re my –” he stopped as if saying the word “sister” might induce vomiting. “If they know that you live here, and we’re…associated, then I start to take the flack. Do you get what I’m saying?” You nodded slowly and scoffed, looking down at your empty plate.

“I understand what you’re saying, but I think it’s stupid,” you retorted. Billy’s expression didn’t change.

“It might be stupid, but it’s better to be on top than to be one of them,” he said dryly, leaning back in his seat again, looking at you through hooded eyes.

“To each his own.” Billy nodded at your response when your mom piped up from the kitchen.

“Come and get it!” Both of you rose from your seats and parted ways, Billy going towards the kitchen and you heading to Max’s room to tell her dinner was ready.

You poked your head in through Max’s door and rapped on the doorframe.

“Hey,” you said, stepping over the threshold into her room.

“Hi,” she greeted, looking up at you from her bed. You could instantly tell she had something on her mind.

“Dinner’s ready. You okay?” She nodded and looked away from you for a moment before answering fully.

“I just – I didn’t like seeing Billy talk to you like that earlier in the car.” Max locked eyes with you, and you frowned.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. He does.” Max was angry. Injustice never sat well with her, especially when it came to her big sister.

“He did,” you reassured, and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Really?”

“Yep,” you affirmed, nodding slowly. Max was quiet as she processed the unexpected news, and she finally stood up, setting her comic book down on her pillow.

“Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Neither did I,” you agreed.

*Tag List: @lithium80sblog @justsimonrileythings @b1tchy3lf @jozstankovich @darleenjade @jenna-jd @peachyaliien @dananahenderson @strangerthing933 @yoyokiss97 @californiaboytoybilly - if you want to be added, let me know! 💕

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

pet names and looped pinkies pt.2 [s.h.] 18+

an: hiii me again :) literally one person asked for this so i ran to do it and ended up going a little crazy with it but oh well! hope you enjoy!! feel free to send suggestions or ideas or just chat :) also this is not edited i was too tired goodnight and god bless steve harrington

masterlist

summary: a part 2 to this in which you and steve are best friends but really you want more and are too scared to say it. (steve harrington x fem!reader)

warnings: okayyyy very anxious reader, bottling up our emotions, cursing, kissing, fluff, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, some spit, an almost blowjob, i think thats it??? 18+ MDNI!!!!!

wc: 9.6k

So what if you watched your best friend that you’re madly in love with get off in front of you! So what if you helped him! It was fine. Perfectly fine, right? 

Wrong. 

Your head was a mess, everything all jumbled up and you didn’t know how to sort through any of this. It had been three days since it happened and you’d been as normal as possible with Steve, answering his phone calls and eating with him on his lunch break. Everything was fine as far as he was concerned. It wasn’t until you climbed into your bed at night that your head started to spin, and not in a good way, your palms sweating and your chest feeling heavy. 

Confused. You were so beyond confused and frustrated with yourself over this whole situation. Confused because it had been one of the best experiences of your life and now your brain was picking it apart piece by piece and making your stomach turn and your head pound. Steve had said all the right things, all the things you’d wanted to hear for years, but you also had your hand on his cock so how much of that did he actually mean! Did he even remember it, want to remember it? What if he never wanted to do it again or even worse wanted to pretend like it didn’t happen? 

And frustrated. So fucking frustrated with yourself because these cruel, mean thoughts were based off nothing besides your own worries! They had no merit, but that did little to soothe the ache in your chest when you thought about your friendship with Steve. 

The rational part of your brain, what was left of it at least, knew that if you just talked to Steve that this could all be cleared up. He would listen to you ramble and maybe he had a good enough handle on his emotions that he could give you some clarity. You knew this. You knew Steve would never be cruel or malicious with you, especially about something like this. And a part of you even knew that despite how well you thought you had hid it, Steve probably knew just how much this, how much he really meant to you. 

But the much bigger part of your brain, the irrational part, held so much worry and fear about this potential conversation with Steve that you’d kept your mouth shut for the last 3 days. What if he regretted it? What if he didn’t mean anything he said and you were just there at the right time? What if this makes things weird and you lose your best friend? What if he just feels sorry for you? Does he know how you feel and decided to give you some attention out of…pity?

Your palms had little crescent shapes in them from where you had dug your fingernails, trying to ground yourself and failing miserably. Maybe this wasn’t a big deal. Maybe you were being dramatic and blowing this way out of proportion. Maybe Steve felt the same. But did you want to risk that? Could you? Because all you really knew at the end of the day was that you loved him. You loved him more than you ever thought possible, so much your heart felt like it could burst when he smiles at you or laughs a little too hard at something that’s not even funny. 

So you kept your mouth shut and tried to be as normal as possible. You kept that fake smile on your face and prayed that nobody noticed, or kept it to themselves if they did. You let Steve tug on your hair and loop his pinky with yours as if it didn’t break your heart a little more each time he did it. 

Any piece of him would be enough for you, it was better than not having any of him at all. 

                     ***************************

Steve could tell that something was up. He’d expected you to avoid him after that night and was pleasantly surprised when you answered his call on the second ring the next morning, smiling to himself and trying not to bounce on his heels like an overexcited puppy. 

But then he’d seen you in person. You’d come to Family Video on your day off to eat lunch with him on his break, giving him a quick once over when you first walked in but besides that…nothing. Maybe you were feeling a little shy, he could understand that. He saw the small smile you gave him when he pulled out two pb&j’s, one for him and one for you and it made his heart soar. He liked doing things for you, loved making you happy. 

He thinks he’d give you the moon if he could. 

Everything seemed normal so far, you were a little more quiet than usual but considering the circumstances he wasn’t too surprised by that. It’s when you’re sitting down with him in the break room that he notices. You’re talking now, laughing at his stupid jokes and teasing him like always, but it’s different. 

You’re here but you’re not. You’re not looking at him, you’re looking around him. You’re giving him smiles and giggles but they’re not yours. This is even worse than what he imagined because you’re trying to act normal. He can practically see your head spinning, thoughts going crazy behind your eyes and it kills him. It hurts because you’re keeping this from him. You’re hiding from him. 

If he’s being honest with you and himself, he’s been freaking out about this so he knows you’ve been too. But he thought you were good enough friends that it wouldn't have been weird to talk about it. He thought he made you feel safe and comfortable enough to confide in him. 

But maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he needed to try harder to make sure you knew that he was there for you. Always. That he’d do anything to make you feel safe. That you could come to him with anything and he’d listen without judgment. That he loved you.

“Do you wanna talk about it, honey?” He bit the bullet, hoping this didn’t blow up his face and praying to god you didn’t want to forget it had ever happened, he knew he sure as hell wouldn’t. 

“Oh..no-we don’t have to, I mean we can if you want but I’m fine. I mean, it’s fine, right? We’re good.” He knew he’d lost you, your eyes dropping to the floor to stare as your foot tapped nervously on the tile. 

“Later, then. We can talk about it when you’re ready, yeah?” The fucking Family Video break room wasn’t the place to have this conversation anyways but he couldn’t stand to see you pretending around him, acting like you were okay when you weren’t. 

He hated to see you pretending but he hated even more that he couldn't lean across this tiny table and kiss you. God he wanted to taste you again, to watch how your pretty pink lips got all swollen and slick and to feel how your hands tugged mercilessly on his curls while you dragged him closer to you. 

But he could be patient. He’d wait for you forever if that's what it took. 

                   ********************************

A party was the last place you wanted to be tonight, but when Steve had called you and practically begged for you to come, you found yourself agreeing before you knew what you were doing. As if you’d ever be able to say no to him. You did manage to tell him you’d meet him there, needing to give yourself some time to get your head on straight and pretend to be put together. 

You’re not even sure whose house this is, you didn’t recognize the address when it was given to you over the phone and standing on the front porch now in front of an open door with people and music pouring out of it, you think you’ve made a huge mistake. 

Despite the nagging feeling in your gut telling you to turn around and run back home, you think of Steve and you just don’t have the heart to not show up. Pushing through the crowd of people proves harder than expected, a grunt escaping when you catch an elbow or hip that almost knocks you over. You keep pushing and pushing until finally you’ve made it through and you’re face to face with Robin, a smile breaking out over her face before she’s rushing forward to pull you into a hug. 

She’s drunk, you can tell and she confirms as much when she pulls back and looks around to make sure no one is listening like she’s got some big secret. “Thank god you’re here! I don’t think I could take another second of Steve’s whining. We’re both three sips away from blackout drunk because I made it a game between the two of us.” She’s talking so fast and bobbing her head along that you can barely make out what she’s saying. But before you can ask her to clarify, she is. 

“Yep. Told him that everytime he mentioned you or asked about you we’d both have to take a drink. Bad game idea now that I think about it, tomorrow is gonna suck but it was worth it. He’s awfully quiet when he’s not blabbing about you. Jesus Christ I don’t even want to think about how many times I’ve heard the word bunny in the last hour and a half.” 

Your heart is thudding dangerously fast in your chest, a blush working its way up your cheeks and you think if you’d fall to the ground if it wasn’t for Robin still clinging onto you. 

Before you can even begin to dissect her words you’re pushed forward, a curse falling past your lips as you grip Robin’s arm hard enough to make her wince and curse at the person behind you. It doesn’t take long before you figure out who it is though. 

“There she is, there’s m’girl.” He’s right there behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and head tucked into the crook of your neck. You can feel his fingers digging into your tummy and his hair tickling your cheek as he nuzzles closer to you. His deep, gravelly voice sends a shiver down your spine and you can’t help but to relax into him, eyes fluttering closed as his words wash over you. 

He’s drunk, beyond drunk, and you know that but it doesn’t mean your thighs don’t clench at the quick, wet open mouthed kisses he’s leaving on the side of your neck before you can manage to pull away and turn around to get a good look at him. 

Turning around was a bad idea. Oh my god it was such a bad idea. Because when you do you’re faced with the sexiest, most devastatingly hot version of Steve you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Holy fuck. You’re fucked. So fucked. 

He has on a button up that hugs his arms so nicely you could cry, the first few buttons undone and showing off a patch of chest hair you didn’t know he had but is now making your eyes widen and fuck there goes another pair of panties. There’s a sheen of sweat over his neck and chest where he’s been dancing and his eyes are dark, pupils blown and almost crazed looking as he takes you in. Those lips you’ve dreamed about for weeks are parted just so, his tongue quickly swiping across his bottom lip and you’ve never seen anyone so perfect. Your hands are clenched at your sides as you drink him in, his hair a mess like he’s run his hands through it a million times tonight and his forehead and neck are slick with sweat too. Goddamn it. Goddamn this party and goddamn Steve Harrington for looking like that. 

You’re so caught up in Steve that you forget Robin is there, hell you’ve forgotten you’re at a party filled with people at all, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he’s looking like that or when he’s looking at you like that. Not when his hands are still on you and he’s giving you a smirk that would have any person dropping to their knees. 

Before you do anything too embarrassing you turn back to Robin who is now looking at you both like you’ve got 4 heads. “Rob, how are you getting home? I can walk you but I think you’ve both had enough fun tonight.” You ignore Steve’s whine from behind you, stomping his foot like a toddler at the prospect of having to leave. 

“Oh! Don’t worry about me, Nance is coming to pick me up. I just knew Harrington wouldn’t be concerned with anyone but you tonight so I called in for backup.” 

Looking back over your shoulder you see Steve with a shy smile as he gives you both a small shrug as to say “yeah and what about it”. Robin flies off before you can say anything else, assuming she’s seen Nancy or someone else she knows you turn back to Steve and take his hand in yours getting ready to tug him out the door when he stops you. 

“But you just got here, didn’t even get to have any fun with you, bunny.” He’s wearing an adorable little pout that makes you smile and you’re sure he won’t remember this tomorrow so you reach up to push his hair back, patting his cheek on your way. 

“You’re drunk, Steve. Like drunk drunk. I need to get you home and in bed, okay? We can do something tomorrow, promise, but I think you’ve had enough fun for tonight.” 

“Oh we’re going to bed? I can get behind that.” 

“You are going to your bed and I am going to my own bed tonight, Harrington.” You pinch his side to scold him but he doesn’t care, trying to come off as innocent as possible even though he’s got you reeling right now. 

If there’s one thing Steve knows how to be, it’s dramatic. “Ugh fine! But I am not leaving until you dance with me. Just one, baby, please?” 

“One, Harrington!” You huffed, pretending to be annoyed as he dragged you further into the crowd of people. You were too focused on him and the feel of his skin on yours to even pay attention to what song was booming around you. 

His hands were on your hips, yours wrapped around his neck as you swayed back and forth. You were almost positive this was not a slow song but you didn’t care. Everyone was practically dry humping around you, but when he flashed you that ‘King Steve’ smirk you couldn’t help but to smile back, shaking your head at him. 

He pulled you closer to him, leaning down to talk to you over the loud music and chatter from the people pressed in on every side of you. 

“So pretty, you know that?” 

“You’re drunk, Steve.” 

He scoffed, acting like that offended him. “And? That doesn’t make it any less true.” 

Rolling your eyes you just shook your head, trying to look at anywhere else but him. It was hard acting like his words didn’t make your heart skip a beat, but he was drunk and now was not the time to dive into this. 

Gripping your chin between his fingers, your eyes were brought to his. “M’serious. Don’t roll your eyes at me like it’s silly. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

Words stuck in your throat you didn’t know what to do besides look at him and why the fuck did it feel like you were about to cry. All you could do was nod, pulling back to create some sort of space between you two. You needed to breathe, to think and you couldn’t do that pressed up against him. 

“Your one dance is up! Let’s go, Harrington.” 

Dragging him behind you was like trying to drag a toddler out of a candy store. He was pouting, dragging his feet behind you and making this as difficult as possible. “Don’t call me that.”

“Call you what? Your name?” 

“Harrington. Don’t call me that, I don’t like it, like it when you call me Stevie.” You didn’t say anything, just kept walking. This was going to be the longest ten minute walk of your life. He took your silence as his cue to keep going, “I keep thinking about it—your hand on my cock, I mean. Can’t even tell you how many times I’ve got off to it in the last few days. And your lips, oh my god, your lips. Takin’ up all the space in my brain, pretty girl.” 

“Steve!” You turned around and smacked at his chest. “We are not talking about this when you’re almost blackout drunk, alright? We’re taking you home. That’s it, you hear me?” 

“Yes ma’am!” He saluted you, doing a poor job at keeping his amusement at bay. It’s quiet between the both of you for the rest of the walk, up until you’re at his door and fumbling for his keys that he’s dangling above your head like it’s a game. 

“I’ll give you the keys if you promise to talk about this with me.” 

“Sleep outside for all I care!” 

“Oh cmon, please? Pretty please? You’re acting weird with me and I may be drunk but I’m aware enough to know I miss you, even if you’re right here.” 

Alright so maybe you hadn’t done a good job of pretending to be normal. Or maybe Steve just knew you better than you thought, which was scary. You needed to rip the bandaid off. Push your fears aside and try and work this out so you don't feel so miserable and alone all the time. 

“Tomorrow, okay? Go inside and get some sleep and I promise I’ll come over tomorrow and we’ll have a real conversation about this. I swear, Steve but we cannot do it while you're drunk off your ass.” 

Your ass that looks amazing in these jeans, might I add.

He huffed like a petulant child, rolling his eyes and dropping his keys into your open palm and moved aside so you could finally open the door. Pushing the door open you shoved him in, making sure he didn’t fall and then stepping back onto the porch. 

“I’m going, okay? Go drink a big glass of water and then go to bed. I’ll see tomorrow.” 

He flashed you one of those lazy smiles that made you melt, giving you a little wink as he leaned against his doorframe. “G’night, bunny. Can I get a goodnight kiss?” 

“Goodnight, Stevie.” 

All you heard as you walked down his steps was his laughter and the door closing, porch light turning on so you could see. You waited on the sidewalk until you were sure he locked his door. 

You were fucked, as per usual. 

                *********************************

It’s an hour before you’re supposed to be at Steve’s and you feel like you’re gonna throw up. You’ve spent the whole day pacing around your room and picking up the phone every fifteen minutes to cancel on him. 

But you can’t. You promised. And you’re cursing yourself for swearing anything to a drunk Steve, especially because he shouldn’t even remember it but of course he did! He called you bright and early, far too early for how drunk he had been, and reminded you about your “date” as he’d called it. 

You’d thrown on one of his t-shirts because the smell of him surrounding you was the only thing keeping you sane right now. You didn’t have the energy to get dolled up for him, too nervous about tonight to even think about it. 

You’ve gone back and forth about a million times on what to say and you’ve decided on the truth. You’d tell him you liked him as more than a friend, that you didn’t want to lose him but didn’t want to keep it from him anymore. 

And you’d hope for the best. 

God you were definitely gonna throw up. You’d cried probably five times today already, your hands had been shaky since you woke up, and you slept like shit. But you couldn’t keep going like this. Having little pieces of him was enough, at least you thought it was. But it wasn’t healthy and it wasn’t fair to either of you. 

The clock ticking away was taunting you. You needed to leave now and for the first time today your feet didn’t want to move. Cmon, be a big girl. 

                   ******************************

The walk to Steve’s was quiet but your mind was anything but. You were staring at his front door now like it would bite you if you got too close. He must have had a sixth sense, or he was watching from the window like a puppy because one second you're staring at his door and the next it’s thrown open and he’s there. He’s there and he’s beautiful and he’s glowing even though he should be glued to the bathroom floor from how much he drank. 

“How ya feeling, Harrington?” 

He tugged you in and closed the door behind you, that pout you’ve grown to love staring back at you. “Told you not to call me that, didn’t I? It’s Stevie to you.” 

He tried to pull you into him but you slipped past, running into the living room and plopping down on the couch, hearing his footsteps follow after you quickly. He sat down on the opposite end and you must have been frowning at that because he was quick to speak up. 

“I’m only sitting so far away because I actually want to have this conversation and if you’re too close to me I won’t be able to focus, honey. Don’t frown at me.” 

Eyebrows raised, you stared at him. He’d always been blunt with you, openly flirty but sometime in the last few days a switch had flipped with him too. You always thought it was casual but now he’s saying things that make you feel like he might want this too, might want you. 

“Oh, um, alright. That makes sense, I guess.” 

It was quiet and you were quickly realizing you weren’t the only one that was nervous. His fingers were running along the stitching of the couch and your hands were twisting in your lap. 

Fuck it, it was now or never. “I’m gonna start, if that’s okay?” He nodded at you and you cursed yourself for speaking up. But maybe if you just pushed it all out as quick as possible this would be quick and painless. Or maybe the ground beneath you would open up and swallow you whole. 

“I’m gonna say this and then we can go from there. I like you. A lot. More than best friends like each other. I don’t think best friends give their friends handjobs either but we did that and anyways I like you. If you don’t feel the same way that’s fine, I’ll get over it. I just don’t want to lose you, ya know? I get it might be awkward at first and it might take time but you’re just so important to me. The most important person in my life. And you’re so good, so special I would just be really sad if I didn’t have you. But it wasn’t fair to me or to you to keep it from you so here I am. Saying lots of shit. But the point is I like you and I want you anyway you’ll have me.” 

You were sucking in quick breaths by the time you finished, taking your quick and painless approach a little too far. You don’t think you actually took a breath during that little speech and that wasn’t doing anything to help with the lightheadedness you were already feeling. 

He was dead still and quiet beside you and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Okay…maybe you had completely misread this situation. The longer it took him to speak the worse you felt. Maybe you could make it to the door before he even noticed you were up? He seemed stunned. Maybe you could make it? 

“Don’t run.” 

Could he read your fucking mind? What the hell was that? But you obeyed, still looking straight ahead and didn’t dare turn toward him. God this was horrible. There was a reason you kept your feelings all bottled up, because there was a chance it would go like this! You let them out and you feel even worse than you did before. 

“I’m sorry I’m not saying anything but I’m a little pissed off and trying to find a way to say this that doesn’t come out mean,” 

wait—what? Oh god. If you were lost before you were gone now. Pissed off? About what? “I’m pissed off because it sounds like you're writing this off as nothing before I’ve even been aware there was something there. And I’m pissed at myself because I’ve done a pretty shit job at showing my feelings for you. I thought it was obvious I was obsessed with you, but it seems you didn’t pick up on it and I’m pissed we wasted so much time tip toeing around each other when you could have even officially been my girl for a long time now.” 

You didn’t even know where to start with that. Where to even begin unpacking what he had just thrown at you. A little part of you wasn’t totally shocked but you’d really just done such a good job at convincing yourself it was one-sided that you felt like you’d just gotten a bomb dropped on you. 

“I…well I just thought you were that way with everyone.” 

He looked at you like you were stupid, and maybe you were. Your brain was trying to catch up to what had just happened and was doing a shit job when he looked at you as if it was common sense that he felt that way. 

“Have you ever heard me call anyone else baby, or sweetheart, or honey, or anything like that?” 

“Well no, but—”

“Am I ever hanging all over anyone else? Trying to get their attention and be as close to them as possible? Tugging on anyone’s hair or holding their hands or making them cuddle me?”

“I mean not that I’ve been but Stevie—”

“You haven’t, because all that shit is reserved for you, baby. I only call you those names, mainly because I love to see your cheeks get all pink. I only touch you like that. Only want you on me. I get so fuckin’ jealous when you’re looking at anyone else. I tug on your hair like a toddler just so you’ll look at me or tease me or scold me. You get that? It’s only you. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear enough but I fuckin’ swear. You’re my best friend but you’re so much more. You’re my girl, my bunny, aren’t you?” 

One second you were feet away from him on the couch and the next you’re launching yourself across and into his lap so quickly he barely had time to wrap his arms around you before your lips were pressed against his. It was hot and messy and urgent as if one of you would disappear at any moment. 

“M’sorry, Stevie. So sorry. It’s not you, it’s my brain. I just get so scared and I just care about you so much I just…I convinced myself you didn’t want me that way and I got so deep in those feelings I wouldn’t let myself see any different. And I didn’t bring it up, I hid it from you and I’m sorry. Oh my god, I’m sorry.” 

You’re a mess in more ways than one, emotions all over the place and a million thoughts racing through your mind as you kiss him all over, desperate to be as close to him as humanly possible. 

“Shh, shh, don’t be sorry, baby. Nothing to be sorry for. I get it, but now you know that you can talk to me about this stuff, right? We’ll work through it together and figure out the tough shit. I’m not going anywhere. You got me, okay? I’m all yours, always have been.” 

Nodding against him was all you could do, too overwhelmed and wrapped up in everything him to think about anything else. He was so sweet, too sweet. He understood you, cared enough to make you feel seen and heard and god it might not the right time but you didn’t care, all you could think about was being with him, close to him, anything you could get. 

He was yours now and you would not waste another second. 

“Take me upstairs, please.” The words mumbled against his lips but he heard them loud and clear, his hand grabbing yours and dragging you behind him like a rag doll.

He’s barely got the door to his room closed when you’re pushing his back against it, dropping to your knees in front of him and fumbling your way through trying to undo his pants. You know you seem desperate but you are desperate. You’ve never wanted someone like you want him and you think that if you don't get your mouth on him in the next five seconds that the world might actually end. 

He’s cursing above you, hands hovering like he doesn’t know where to put them before the land in his hair, head falling back against the door as he squeezes his eyes shut. 

Somehow between your quick moving hands and some help from Steve you manage to unbutton his pants, wiggling them over his hips and whimpering at the way they catch on his thighs. Neither of you bother with getting them off, far too occupied with how he’s straining against his boxers. His hands move for them but before he can you’re leaning forward, kissing the outline of his cock through the material and the noise that leaves his mouth is enough to have you moaning against him. 

Your knees are already feeling sore against the hardwood floor but you think if he keeps making noises like that you’d stay here for hours. 

Chancing a look up at him while you place kisses up and down the length of him you’re met with his eyes instantly, a pained look on his face as he stares down at you. You leave one last kitten lick through his boxers before you pull back enough to really see him. “Are yo- are you okay? Is this not…am I not..I haven’t done this in awhile so I’m not sure if it’s any good, I’m sorry.” 

He’s got you up to your feet so fast it makes you dizzy and he’s suddenly looking at you with a look so serious you’re scared you’ve fucked this up. All because you wanted his cock in your mouth damnit! 

Before you can apologize again he’s gripping your arms, forcing you to look at him. “You are perfect, that was perfect and fuck I can’t even believe I’m actually turning down the chance to have your pretty mouth on me but I think if you did I’d cum instantly and that would be really embarrassing. So as much as I want it, and believe me baby I want it, I need this to last more than two seconds, alright?” 

The initial sting of rejection is quickly replaced with a feeling of pure lust, a craving for him so strong that it makes you falter in front of him. You can’t help the small pout on your lips, you’d really wanted to taste him, to watch him fall apart above you! 

“Don’t pout, honey. Y’can have my cock whenever you want. But right now all I’m worried about is making you feel good, okay?” He tugs your bottom lip with his thumb and you smile shyly, lips puckering against the tip of his finger and leaving a small kiss there that makes him smile fondly. 

But then an idea sparks and you decide if you can’t taste his cock you want to taste some of him at least. You watch with satisfaction as his jaw goes slack, eyes widening when you part your lips around his thumb, taking it deeper into your mouth and showing him what he's missing by denying you what you really want. Both of you stand there quiet for a moment, you just barely bobbing your head on his thumb and moaning around it when he presses down lightly on your tongue. He’s cursing under his breath, pulling his thumb from your lips with a pop and dripping your chin that’s now slick with your own spit. 

“Greedy girl. So needy for cock you’ll stand here and suck on my thumb. S’kinda desperate don’t ya think, baby?” 

Under any other circumstance you think you’d be crying from embarrassment but even though his words are teasing, the way he’s looking at you is anything but. He’s got a mean mouth but his eyes are telling you how much he loves it, how lucky he is, how he’s just as desperate if not more. 

“Just yours,” His brows are furrowed and a piece of hair falls over his forehead and you clarify quickly, feeling a little shy under his stare, “just your cock, Stevie.” 

Realization dawns on him he feels a twitch in his boxers as he stares at you, lips messy with spit and eyes dark just like his. “Just for me, huh?” He can’t even make the adoration for you, a warm sensation running through his body as you nod at him with pink cheeks. 

He doesn’t think there’s anyone as perfect as you and the fact that you’re standing here, telling him you need him—fuck how did he get this lucky? There must have been a glitch in the system, some sort of blip but he wasn’t complaining and wouldn’t question it with you hanging on him like you were. 

Determined to show you that he was just as needy for you, wanted you just as badly he took your shoulders, gently pushing you until the back of your knees hit his bed. You fell back with a plop, moving yourself back when he nodded his head at you in encouragement. 

Hungry didn’t even begin to describe how Steve was looking at you. He was staring you down as if he wanted to devour you, and you’d let him. No one had ever shown any interest in going down on you and it had become something you’d just kind of accepted you wouldn’t experience.

Steve was going to change that. 

“Can I, baby?” His hands hovered over your shorts. You’d come over in these and one of his shirts, not caring enough to get dressed up when your goal was to get it all off as quickly as possible. “Need to see your pretty little cunt, bet she’s aching for me, yeah? But she’s all wet and needy and begging for my attention, isn’t she, bunny?” 

Jesus Christ, he had a mouth on him. His words alone had you clenching around nothing, hips lifting as you nodded quickly so he could pull your shorts down. He left your panties on and you cursed, a wave of embarrassment flooding through you, mostly because you knew he’d see how wet you were, how wet you had been for weeks because of him. 

Shorts thrown somewhere on the floor behind him your thighs closed quickly, head resting on your shoulder as you leaned up on your arms for support. You’d need all the support you could right now. But Steve wouldn’t have any of that. His tongue clicked, a reprimand for depriving him a look between your thighs when it’s all he’d been thinking about for months. He knocked your knees apart and if you weren’t so desperate to see his reaction your head would have fallen back on the bed. 

You’d have thought it was Christmas morning the way he was grinning. Or as if he had just won the lottery! And to him, he had. 

“Messy messy girl. Poor thing, I’ll have to fix this, yeah?” 

It was all you could do to nod at him and it was only seconds later that he dove in, taking one long, slow lick up the front of your panties, pressing a gentle kiss where your clit was that had you falling back and throwing your arm over your eyes. He was gonna be the death of you. 

Apparently that one little taste was enough to dissolve whatever will power he had left because in the next ten seconds your hips were lifted and panties were practically torn down your legs. He took no time at all getting himself back between  your thighs, hands on either one holding them apart so he could bury his face there. 

If it didn’t feel so good you’d be pissed that this was what you’d been missing out on, but when Steve was sucking your clit into his mouth with the right amount of pressure to have you seeing stars, or using his fingers to stretch you for his cock, you couldn’t have cared less about anything or anyone else. 

You’d also never seen Steve so quiet. Well, he wasn’t exactly quiet, you could feel his muffled moans and pleas against you as you gripped his hair in your hands and pulled him closer, but he was more content than he’d ever been. 

You’re not sure how you manage any thoughts, let alone words right now when he’s making you feel so good and you can feel that burn in your tummy that tells you you’re close, but you still find it in you to tease him. 

“Can’t believe this was all it took to shut you up, should’ve done this ages ago.” It doesn’t come out as clean and quick as you wanted, it takes about 30 seconds to manage the words. But you’re proud of yourself for teasing him but immediately regret it when he pulls away, a whine leaving your throat as you try and tug him back. 

“Y’sure you wanna be mean to me when it’s my mouth you’re grinding against?” 

His words ooze with confidence and you know it’s well earned because he’s got you in the palm of his hand. You take the opportunity to get a good look at him, eyes almost black and hair all messy from where you’ve pulled and tugged for the last 15 minutes. He’s wearing his signature smirk and you gasp at his swollen lips and chin that’s quite literally dripping wet with you. 

“M’sorry, sorry. Please keep going, I was so close.” He doesn’t make you beg, even though at this point you’d get on your hands and knees if he asked. He goes right back to work, picking up the same pace and you know it won’t take long before that burn in your belly engulfs you completely. 

He takes instructions well, groaning his acceptance when you tug him back to your clit, nodding his head in understanding. “Gonna cum, gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum, Stevie,” You’re babbling now, hoping he can make out some of your words as you move your hips faster and harsher against him, chasing your own release. 

You can’t hear what he’s saying but can feel his mouth moving against you. He never truly shuts up. And you don’t know it but he’s begging for you to cum. It sends you over the edge anyways, thighs closing around his head tightly as you gasp and your body locks up. It’s too much and not enough, you’re buzzing from head to toe and then you feel him helping you through it, small little licks to your clit, his hands rubbing at your trembling thighs as you try and catch your breath. 

“Fuck” Steve might have said it, or it might have been you, you’re not sure. Chest heaving you can’t do anything but stare at the ceiling above you, trying to get your heart to slow down so you can make sense again. 

All of a sudden your line of sight is cut off by a mop of brown hair and two sparking eyes hovering over you, a smile so big you’re sure his cheeks must hurt. “Best meal of my life, baby.” His chin is still wet and you move your hand up to collect some on your thumb, sticking it in your mouth with a hum and he doesn’t waste any time before he’s diving down to press his lips against yours. Tasting yourself on his lips makes you moan and it’s then you feel his cock against your stomach, hot and slick and begging for attention. 

Pulling away you look down between you and see that sometime between getting you on the bed and making you cum he’s taken his boxers off. When you look back up to him he smiles sheepishly, 

“Sorry they were diggin’ into me and I was about to go crazy. But I can…I can put em back on. Don’t want you to feel like we have to do anything else, I’ll happily go back between your thighs and spend the rest of my life there, if you’ll let me.” 

Grabbing the back of his neck you pull him down until your foreheads are pressed together, shaking your head at him like he’s crazy. “Stevie, not to be too forward but I refuse to leave this room without you fucking me.” 

He laughs. It’s loud and it makes you giggle and your noses are bumping against one another and he’s pressing kisses to your cheeks and the corner of your mouth and he’s backing up just enough to get a good look at you, “Thank fucking god.” 

Steve was big. Not that you were complaining but damn you were a little worried about how that was going to fit inside of you. A little part of you was worried about him fitting but a bigger part of you just really wanted this to be good, for both of you. It was cliche but you wanted fireworks and passion and to feel him for days after. 

You weren’t a virgin, you’d been with a few guys over the years and sex for you had always just been…okay. Yeah, sometimes it was good, but it was never how you’d read in books or heard on tv shows and movies. Steve didn’t know it but he had just given you your first orgasm by sometime other than yourself! It had never been the mind blowing, toe curling experience you thought it would, but if anyone was going to break the standard, it was Steve Harrington. 

He must’ve seen the worry on your face, moving to lay beside you with his hand rubbing comforting circles on your hip. “You sure you wanna do this, sweetheart? Say the word and we can watch a movie or get late night pizza, whatever you want.” 

“Can this be one of those times where I say a bunch of shit and you don’t judge me or laugh? Just listen to me.” He nodded at you, all hints of teasing and playfulness gone. You’re sweet Stevie. 

“Ok, so, right okay—so I’ve had sex before and it’s been alright but I don’t want alright with you. I want hot and sweaty amazing sex that I’m gonna think about for the rest of my life, ya know? And I don’t doubt that you can deliver, trust me I’m sure you can,” you lean towards him as if you’re not the only ones in the room—the house, and whisper like it’s a secret, “you’ve seen your dick, right? That thing is massive and you seem like you know how to use it!” You sit back up then, only a little embarrassed at your rambling before you continue, “so I guess I’m more worried than I won’t be able to deliver and I just really like you and want this to be good for you and I think I’d never recover if you didn’t have a good time and—”

He stops you with a hand over your mouth, eyes wide and a small smile playing on his lips as he stares at you. “Take a breath, baby. Now.” 

Your mouth drops open as soon as he removes his hands, your mind going black at the tone of his voice, so stern and deep. But you do as he says, taking a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly, looking to him for confirmation that you’ve done something right. 

“Good girl, there ya go. Now, I didn’t want to cut you off but you were gonna run out of air if I didn’t. It’s my turn to talk now and you’re gonna listen, right?” You can’t help but just nod at him, your mind trying to catch up to your body as his words sink in and wash over you. 

He rubs his thumb against your cheek to soothe you and it does the trick, your pulse calming down enough that you can breathe again. 

“You do remember about half an hour ago when I stopped you from putting this pretty mouth on my cock because I would’ve cum in seconds, right? Because I’m sorry that I haven’t made it clear to you that this is already the best experience I’ve ever had. Fuck, baby, having your hand on me a few days ago was the highlight of my year. Eating your sweet little pussy is gonna get me off for the rest of my life. This is only good for me because it’s you. You hear me? You don’t need to be nervous or worried about me enjoying this, I swear to you I’m havin’ the time of my life.” 

You don’t realize you’re crying until he’s wiping away your tears with his thumb, cooing at you and making your heart thump so hard you can feel it in your toes.

“I love you, ya know.” 

This time it’s his turn to be stunned into silence but it only lasts a few seconds before he’s kissing you, or he’s trying his best, it’s hard to kiss when he’s smiling so big against your mouth. “Oh I know, and I love you too, more than anything.” 

You feel like a teenager, giggling and peppering kisses all over his cheeks, so in love and just so breathtakingly happy it’s almost unbelievable. You feel silly now that you ever worried about anything, not even he’s so perfect and sweet and kind and yours. He’s worth every minute of panic and stress though. 

Then he opens his mouth and you remember that you’re still embarrassingly wet and that he’s still throbbing against your hip. 

“And don’t worry about my cock, bunny, we’ll make it fit.” 

His thumbs slide under the band of his boxers and he looks to you, making sure it’s okay that he finally peels them off. When you nod he wastes no time in dragging them over his hips and down his legs until he’s kicking them off and onto the ground, both of you letting out a sigh of relief. 

You thought Steve’s cock was pretty the first time you saw it but that’s nothing compared to now. He’s painfully hard, tip red and leaking, smearing precum where it lays twitching against his belly. You hold a little resentment toward him now for not letting you put your mouth on him. You think there might even be some drool on your lip as you look at him. 

He’s watching you stare at his cock and trying not to cum on the spot, hands clutching his comforter do tight he might rip it. He has to move his eyes away from you so he can attempt to focus, too worked up to really make any sense right now. 

“Honey how do you…what do you think would be better for you?” He wants this to be as painless for you as possible, only wants for you to feel good. He’d twist into a pretzel if he thought it would be better for you. 

“I’ll uh, I’ll be on top. I think that’ll be best so I can um—I think that’ll be good for me.” He’s not totally sure that his eyes don’t cross at the thought of you riding him, he has to pinch the bridge of his nose hard just to right himself. 

You urge him to scoot back so he’s laying down, head resting against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. You move yourself to straddle his thighs, worried that you won’t be able to think straight. In a flash of bravery you whip off his t-shirt and watch as his cock twitches and his mouth drops open. His hands immediately find your painfully hard nipples, tweaking them softly and watching as your stomach clenches when he does. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits, swear to god. Jesus Christ you’re gorgeous, honey. All of ya, every inch.” 

“Can’t wait anymore, Stevie, need you in me please.” The words are barely out of your mouth before he’s reaching towards his nightstand and you don’t know what comes over you but before you can stop it you reach out and grab his arm. Neither of you say anything, staring each other down and waiting for someone to speak, to move. 

Fuck. You don’t know why you did that, obviously you should use protection. But…you’re on the pill and haven’t been with anyone in what? A year and a half? And the thought of feeling him…all of him—fuck you know it’s stupid but you can’t care about it right now when he’s so pretty and his cock is so pretty and you just want him. 

He speaks before you muster the courage too, voice sounding strained, “Baby..are you saying…are you sure? It’s been awhile since I’ve been with anyone and m’clean I swear but—fuck are you sure?” 

“M’sure if you are. Just wanna feel you, Steve.” 

He could weep. He could fall to his knees and weep. Here you are, prettiest girl he’s ever seen and not only do you even want to have sex with him but you want to do it raw—fuck he wasn’t gonna last. 

“Fuckin’ unreal, you are unreal.” 

Instead of answering you took the opportunity to move forward and hover over his cock. Some of your confidence drained, all of this feeling much more real now that he was inches away from you. But you knew there was nothing to be scared of, this was Steve. Your Stevie. There was no one else you trusted like him and you knew he’d take care of you above anything else. 

He took hold of himself, moving down a little so he could run his tip up and down your slit, coating his cock and hissing at the contact. Your grip on his shoulders stuttered when his tip bumped against your clit and you swear your whole body shuddered. 

“Feels good doesn’t it, baby? I’ll just hold still and you go at your own pace, we’ve got all the time you need.” You lifted up a little, his tip nudging at your entrance and as you sank down your lips fell open into a silent moan. Your eyes were shut but you could feel Steve watching you and you could feel his grip on your hips tightening as you moved painfully slow.

“Doin’ so good baby, so so good.” You preened under his praises, body relaxing as you opened up for him. You knew it would be a stretch, but it was good. The burn of him filling you up turning you on even more, if that was possible. Being this close, this full of him made you feel light headed in the best way possible. 

It took a few minutes but now you were fully seated, your hips pressed together as you dug your fingers into his shoulders, trying to keep your composure. It was overwhelming in the best way, your body on overdrive as you tried to accommodate all of him. 

He looked like he was overwhelmed too, little puffs of air coming out of his nose and his eyes screwed shut. He was still, not moving and for a minute you were worried but when you moved on him, his eyes flew open and his hands grasped your hips tight. 

“Wait, wait wait, baby—fuck. You gotta…I gotta…just don’t move. Please. Gimme a sec you feel too good, fuck.” You nodded, giggling a little and when you did you heard him gasp. Both of you could feel everything and it was so much. 

You sat still for what felt like hours but could have only been a minute or two before he looked at you, nodding slightly and you took that as your sign to start moving. Lifting up about halfway you dropped your hips back down, gasping at the sensation of him filling you up so well and the little curses slipping out of him only spurred you on. 

“Oh my god, Stevie. You’re so—I’m so full. So full of you I just..fuck.” You tilted your hips forward when you dropped down this time, his hip brushing against a spot inside of you that you didn’t know existed but lit you on fire. It made you go faster, sliding down hard and a moan so loud you should be embarrassed came out when your clit caught on the little patch of hair he had near the base. 

Steve seemed to be out of his mind, mumbling praises and curses under his breath. He couldn’t decide where to look, all the options too good to miss. He could look at your pretty face, all flushed and glowing from the sweat you’d worked up. He could look at your tits, so perfect and pretty and bouncing right in front of his face. Or he could look at where you connected. He could watch his cock disappear into you over and over again but that combined with how good you felt meant this would be over very soon. And he wanted, no needed, for this to last forever. 

As if his cock filling you up didn’t feel good enough, add in his filthy fucking mouth and his thumb he had rubbing quick, tight circles on your swollen clit and you were a goner. 

“Such a pretty girl. You really are my little bunny, huh, bouncing on my cock like you were made to do it. You were, weren’t you? Made for me, baby.” 

“Feels so good, honey. Snug little cunt feels like heaven.” 

“Gonna make me cum, you know that? Gonna cum with my girl on my cock.” 

It hit you out of nowhere, maybe it was him comparing you to a fucking bunny or maybe it was him calling you his girl. You’re not sure. All you know is one minute you’re there and the next your toes are curling and your face is buried in the crook of his neck, mouth open against his throat as you cum so hard your ears are ringing and you can’t feel or think about anything but him him him. 

Steve Steve Steve

“Fuckin’ shit, baby. M’gonna cum, gonna cum. Where do you want it, bunny? Huh? Please please please—shit.” You can’t even move your arms, let alone the rest of your body but you can feel how you’re still clenched around him and you can feel how both of your thighs are soaked. 

All you can manage is to lean up just a tad, lips brushing against the shell of his ear, “In me, want it in me, please Stevie.” And then he had one hand in your hair, holding you to him while his hips lifted and then stilled, groaning something obscene into your ear and if you weren’t so exhausted and overwhelmed that alone would have made you cum again. 

You laid there on top of Steve, his arms now around your waist as he pressed small kisses to your shoulder. Your legs felt like jelly and you really think you could pass out right here with him still inside of you. 

“Y’alright, baby? Still with me?” The words were tired and mumbled against your hair, both of you still kind of out of it but it was so good, you still felt so good. 

“M’okay, Stevie. Not to make your big head any bigger but Jesus Christ I think you just fucked me within an inch of my life.” He chuckled against you, teeth scraping over where your neck met your shoulder and you shivered. “Well I think technically you fucked me within an inch of my life, sweetheart.”

Pulling back just enough to get a look at him, his eyes were closed with a calm, relaxed look on his face. He must have felt you looking because one eye cracked open, a smile on his lips as he looked at you.

“What is it? Something on my face?” 

You shook your head and pressed a quick peck to his lips, threading your fingers into his hair and burrowing back into the crook of his neck. 

“No, I’m just happy, just love you.” 

“I love you most, pretty girl.” 

[stevesgother]

The 4th - S.H

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC: 2.2k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI NSFW, cursing, drinking, characters are all of age, takes place after the events of ST3, slight exhibitionism only bc they’re technically outside, it’s that slightly awkward but endearing sex you have when you fuck someone you like for the first time. It's realistic. Sue me.

AN: first time writing smut, i'm so nervous. fast times au?? If you squint?? the last half isn't proofread bc i simply cannot bring myself to read my own smut

‘American Woman’ by The Guess Who blares loudly from a twin pair of Hitachi speakers stationed on Steve Harrington’s back deck. On the hottest day of the year, The Party had decided to congregate at the only non-public pool they had unlimited access to.

To his relief, Steve had been assigned to grill duty again. The cherry red bikini you had sauntered through his sliding glass door wearing was starting to seriously inconvenience him. He had his Ray Bans on, albeit low on the bridge of his nose, to disguise where his gaze had been lingering all afternoon; the large propane grill hiding his lower half.

Lounging poolside on your towel, you hear before you feel a large ‘SPLASH’, and suddenly you’re soaked head to toe in overly chlorinated pool water.

“Ugh! Henderson!” you scold as you stand to replace your now drenched towel. The cheeky boy looks up at you from where he floats in the pool and mouths a half-hearted ‘Sorry’. 

“Steve! Would you happen to have an extra towel?” you shout to him as you hold up your ruined one, shooting him a deadpan expression. “Yeah, ‘course,” he sets down the grill tongs and awkwardly shuffles his way inside, keeping his back to you. Weird, you think.

Steve caught one look at you, hair wet and dripping, water beading down your neck and disappearing among the curve of your breasts; nipples taught from the sudden shock of cold water and visible through the fabric of your swimsuit, and he was grateful for the reprieve inside would offer him.

After close to 15 minutes of no Steve and more importantly, no towel, you decide to venture into the spacious house yourself. “Steve! – Oh!-” you startle as you run chest to chest into him, both turning a corner. “You scared me,” you say with a hand to your racing heart, “I was just wondering where you went,” you chuckle awkwardly.

“Yeah no, sorry, I just uh- got distracted,” he says, avoiding contact and handing you the fresh linen. You glance down, and notice the slight tent in his maybe too-tight swim trunks. You feel the heat of a rosy blush crawl up your cheeks, and a sudden flip of your stomach. Were you really the reason why he was acting so strange? That felt incredibly presumptuous of you.

“Well um…” you trail off, trying to keep your cool, “thanks. For the towel, I mean.” Steve had never made you feel so bashful and uncertain before. Something about the newly exposed skin and the salty smell of sweat mixed musk that radiates off of him from this proximity making your mind short circuit.

 –

When the cookout had dwindled down to just the adults and the sun dipped just below the trees, a joint had started to be passed around your small circle. “Well, we should probably head home,” Nancy announces in her usual demure tone, grabbing Jonathan’s hand helping him to stand. A chorus of goodbyes echo throughout the group, eventually leaving just you, Steve, Robin and Eddie.

An exaggerated yawn escapes Robin as she declares she’s exhausted and needs Eddie to drive her home in his rinky dink van.

“C’mon man! I just rolled this joi-”

Robin cuts him off with a harsh clear of her throat and an even harsher jab to his ribs.

“I. Really think. We. Should. Go.” She punctuates each word with a forced smile. Why was everyone acting so fucking odd today? You try to send her a panicked glance, fearing the potential awkwardness of being left here alone with Steve.

Being best friends with both of you, she was well aware of the searing crushes the two of you had on each other. This barbeque was her opportunity to light a fire under your asses to do something about it.

“That’s okay, Rob. Go home if you’re tired.” Always the gentleman. Right now you could kick him for it. If Robin notices your glaring, she doesn’t acknowledge it as she rises to her feet and heads toward the gate leading to the driveway.

“Bye losers!” She waggles her fingers at you as they make their exit, sending you a subtle wink that sets your cheeks ablaze. You now know without a doubt that this was intentional.

A hand on your knee as he says, “I can walk you home if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. We can finish the joint at least,” you smile timidly at him. Free weed wasn’t easy to come by these days, what was the harm in staying just a little longer?

–

2 hours later, you’re lying shoulder to shoulder on the rough concrete surrounding the Harrington’s pool. The joint had been snuffed out on the ground between you an hour ago, but with your thoughts dulled like this it was becoming increasingly easy to bask in the space you two had created for each other. The desire to turn heel and run with your other friends had long fizzled out.

“Hey, what was up with you today?” you ask after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “You just seemed really off,”

He looks suddenly nervous, “Oh I uh– I don’t know. Julys’ always a weird month for me, I guess,” he lies, carding a hand through his hair.

Taking the hand that’s not in his hair in your own, you ask, “Are you doing okay?” When he turns his head to meet you, your sincerity makes him blush - neck to ears. Your faces are closer than he thought they would be. He can count every eyelash from this proximity.

“Yeah– you know what,” He clears his throat, “I’m actually really warm,” he sits up clumsily as he pulls his shirt over his head by the collar, ruffling his hair and exposing the constellation of freckles and moles he has spattering the skin on his toned back.

“Okay–” You go to stand with him but he’s already dove into the pool. When he breaches the surface, he shakes his hair out like a dog and grins at you. You can’t help your eyes wandering to the dark patch of hair covering his chest. You’re starting to feel that warmth he had been complaining of.

“You gonna come in? Or just stand there and gawk?” He laughs as he floats over to you.

So you peel your shirt off and watch him stare intently as you unbutton your shorts, letting them drop to your feet. A less than elegant swan dive and you’re disappearing under the artificially blue water. The sudden coolness of it shocks you, sobering you up a bit.

You’re much more graceful than the boy when it’s your turn to come up for air, gently pushing back the hair that sticks to your face. He swims over to you unsuspectingly, then in the next breath and with a mischievous grin he lifts your body over his shoulder and essentially bodyslams you back under the surface.

More than the gesture itself, what shocks you the most is the warm expanse of his broad shoulders caressing you. You both emerge laughing, “Asshole!” you swat at his chest playfully.

When the laughter dies and fizzles out into an anxious energy, the air is filled with a sort of anticipation. The two of you are bobbing in the pool, faces no more than an inch apart.

“You have got to stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, breathlessly.

Just then he surges forward and presses his lips firmly to yours. The kiss is close-mouthed and chaste at first, giving you a chance to pull away. When you don’t take the opportunity, he deepens it. Your wet hands move to hold his face, breaching the water with a small splashing sound and his strong arms hug you at the waist, bringing you impossible closer. Pressed up against him like this you can feel all of him. The scratch of curls on his chest, the bulge of his biceps around your middle, the hard length of him pressed against your thigh.

Gasping into the kiss, you give him the opening he needs to lick hotly into your mouth, eliciting a breathy moan from your chest that sends Steve reeling. He starts to slowly kick his legs, swimming to push your back up against a vinyl clad wall.

Your lips move to lick the vein that runs down his neck, then up to a spot just below his ear. He groans when you take his earlobe gently into your mouth. Grasping your cheek in his hand, he forces your face out of the refuge his neck had provided from his intense gaze.

“Can I touch you?” He shudders when he speaks, having dreamt about this exact moment for years. Your response is an enthusiastic nod and another searing kiss to his lips - plush and pink and made for your own.

Steve’s knee moves to rest bookended between your thighs, keeping you open for him. In the water, he can’t feel how pathetically wet you are beneath your bright red bikini bottoms. You’re thankful for that, but even so, the whine that you release when his swift fingers push aside the fabric and start slowly massaging your clit is enough to give you away.

Your grip on his shoulders tightens, leaving small crescent shapes in his perfect skin. “Oh!-- God, keep doing that,” you pant.

“You like that, baby?” Steve tries to sound suave. Mr. Confident. King Steve. Honestly, he’s terrified. He has half a mind to stop and ask you to pinch him, not entirely convinced this is even real. But the sweet, sweet sounds you’re making are enough to persuade him otherwise.

“Yes! Ah– please, don’t stop,” you beg, even though you don’t have to. Steve’s positive he would do just about anything you asked of him right now. You have the sudden urge to return the favor, reaching down between your two bodies and palming him through his swim trunks.

“Oh -- my God, don’t,” he warns, the sheepish smile on his face signals to you that he’s not actually uncomfortable, “I’ll come in my pants like a damn teenager,” he gives an embarrassed chuckle.

Growing desperate for more, you say, “I want you to fuck me.” with an impossible finality. It makes Steve’s breath hitch in his throat.

“Wh-what?” He needs to make sure he heard you correctly.

“Steve. I need you to fuck me. Now.” Your voice is slightly muffled as you begin to press open-mouth kisses to his neck again.

“Oh my God,” The boy sounds absolutely wrecked already, barely able to contain himself. His hands fumble blindly for the ties on your bikini bottoms and he pulls when he finds them. Unwrapping you like his very own Christmas present.

You pull his trunks down and over his hips, just enough to fish his red and swollen cock out, careful to not let them fall to the bottom of the pool lest someone have to dive and retrieve them. You line him up hurriedly with your entrance, but he stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Are you sure about this?” His brows furrow in that way they always do, when he's unsure. He has a crinkle above his nose.

“Yes” you half moan before getting a look at his face, “Wait, are you?”

“Yes! Yes– of course. I just– want you to be sure,” He kisses you softly after he asks

It’s so tender, you feel so safe with him like this. You fear you might be falling in love.

“I promise, I’m su–Oh!” he slides into you without warning, nearly knocking the breath out of you. He lets out a guttural groan into the space where your shoulder meets your neck as he starts to keep a steady rhythm.

“God, you feel so good,” he pants into your open mouth, “i’ve wanted this for so long,”

His words have you keening. He wraps his broad arms fully around you now, hugging you close as he pistons his hips into you. Repeatedly hitting that spot inside your walls where you need him the most.

“Oh, Steve!” you moan loudly, no longer concerned about the neighbors hearing you. The pool water begins to form waves from Steve’s thrusting and splash up onto the concrete beside your head.

“Fuck, say my name like that again,” you can feel his hips stuttering slightly.

“Steve!” He whines directly into your ear when you say it, you never would’ve thought he’d be so vocal.

“Touch yourself baby, I’m close,”

You do as you’re asked and start to keep a frenzied pace on your sensitive bud. Having both kinds of stimulation, mixed with Steve’s sweet praise, is sending you closer and closer to your edge.

As you reach your high, Steve can feel your warm pussy clench around him, making him hurtle towards his orgasm with you.

With a strangled cry, “fuck- I'm cumming,” You finish together as hips slow and he rides out his orgasm with you. His body curls in on itself and he trembles slightly. You run a warm, soft hand through his hair and down his back, soothing him through the intensity of it.

“Shit- my parents are going to kill me,” he laughs and kisses you again.

Maybe you did like swimming. Just a little bit.

tags: @daisy-munson, @megxplryxb

[munsonsreputation]

am i allowed to cry?

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [2.8k]

warnings: cursing, allusion to depression and anxiety, reader nearly has a mental breakdown over the stress of work/school/and life, steve comes to the rescue don't worry (honestly just wrote this because seasonal depression combined with school and work and life is real as fuck and we all need some comfort), also semi proof-read, sorry!

summary: it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, something too heavy for you to bear all alone, but you do, anyway. and when you finally collapse under pressure, the last person you want to worry is your boyfriend steve, but he’s your safe space, and all he ever wants you to know is that he’s going to be there for you through smiles and tears.

The fatigue settled under your eyes and in the depths of your bones like a heavy weight pulling you down. There was an exhaustion seeping from the inside out, eating you alive until you were merely a shell of yourself. Your stomach twisted in knots unsolvable even with the help of sleep or tea—you felt beyond defeated with no way out.

It didn’t matter where you were and how ‘fine’ you thought you were. The feeling of dread became embedded into your entire existence and it was getting harder to keep up the act and blame it all on school or work. Perhaps it started there, but slowly and surely did the feeling morph into every avenue you steered towards in order to escape.

Your hangouts with friends suddenly turned into an inner panic attack of sorts, feeling the need to keep up with everyone who was doing so well whilst you were barely making it out alive.

Family dinners then turned into interrogations, where they poked and prodded probably with the best intent to figure out why you were so absent, but it all just felt like an attack coming from left and right.

No matter how hard you tried to keep up the facade of being fine and telling everyone they were making a big deal out of nothing, you knew you were moments away from falling apart. At this rate, you were a machine breaking down piece by piece, rusting and stalling until you couldn’t move anymore.

And the absolute last person you wanted to shrink away from was your boyfriend, Steve.

He was the most supportive and present person in your life you could have ever asked for. He never doubted you in anything, and most times he was the one egging you on to go after your dreams. Telling you to take risks and go for it, because you always succeeded in everything you did, and even when it wasn’t on the first try, he knew you were bound to get a hang of it.

A special trait about him that you adored so much was his trust in you. He knew what it was like for people to always question his worth, to try to make it seem like he wasn’t capable or smart enough to make his own decisions so much so that other people had to step in and save him. But to be fair, Steve Harrington never needed to be saved—he just needed the right people around to show him it was okay to make mistakes and learn from it.

And you did just that.

When Steve didn’t know what he wanted to do after graduation, you never pestered him on to go off to college, committing himself to something he wasn’t one hundred percent certain about. Instead, you encouraged him to find his calling, to scour town in order to find different hobbies that had potential job opportunities. To volunteer and possibly shadow in order to widen his options.

You were always supportive and did your best to guide instead of control—and because of that; he was able to find a job that made him happy, surprisingly enough.

And likewise, while Steve never was the biggest fan of structured school, he guided you through your college path. Providing all the moral and emotional support he could offer you, and at times even going as far as to reading a textbook chapter alongside you to help you understand concepts that were all too confusing.

He never pushed too hard, and never made it seem like he didn’t care. There was a perfect balance between your understanding and his—a sort of tune that always was in perfect harmony…until it wasn’t.

You had been assuring Steve that while school and work were surely kicking your butt, you had it all under control, but that was far from the truth. Date nights were seemingly pushed back…not that he minded since he understood you needed to study and rest—but things were beginning to feel more off.

You avoided having him stay the night at your place or even just stopping by to drop you off some food. When you did spend time together, you were physically there, but not mentally. You listened intently to what he had to say, but when it was your turn, you shared little about what was going on with you, and diverted the questions back to him.

A lot of the time, you just seemed out of it. Too far away in your mind for him to reach you, and while he knew everyone had their off days and even off weeks, yours was becoming imminently permanent, and you were beginning to realize it, too.

You sat hunched over at your desk, eyes welling with tears as you stared down at your notes, then back to your textbook, then back to your notes once again. Nothing was making sense, and your patience was slim to none, batting your eyes as the tears fell onto the pages where you were too fed up to care.

Your mind was scattered all over the place, thinking about how you needed to make sense of the content in front of you, but also about the many deadlines of other assignments you had under your belt. On top of that, you had other responsibilities that needed your full attention, yet you sat there wondering how you were even going to complete one of them.

There was something that snapped inside of you. A guttle cry that you let out as you pushed yourself out of your desk chair and stood with your hands threaded roughly in the roots of your hair. Hot, vicious tears floated down your cheeks while you paced in circles attempting to calm yourself down, but nothing worked.

You needed Steve, even when you didn’t want him to see you like this.

He was at your doorstep not even a whole ten minutes after you had phoned him, asking if he would drop by. It was almost midnight, and usually at this hour your nose was buried deep behind textbooks and assignments, but he could just tell something was the matter.

He had asked rushed and worriedly, if everything was okay, but you refused to give him a definite answer, just sniffling back your cries and humming, telling him to come over as soon as he could. The drive was short, and yet for him it felt like eternity until he was face to face with you on your front porch.

“Baby,” His voice was rigid yet gentle, striding closer to you as his warm hands came down to hold your arms, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you hurt?” He breathed, half catching his breath from his haste, and half worried out of his mind.

He bent a little at the knees, trying to get a better look at your face in the dimly lit doorway. All the color was drained from your skin, except the red path your tears took down your cheeks and your bitten lips.

You sniffled hard, an unevenness apparent in your breathing, “N—nothing,” you lied pathetically, closing your eyes as you shook your head, “I’m just a little stressed. You don’t have to worry about m-me.”

There was lots to worry about, especially seeing you in the state that you were in. Steve had seen you stressed out many times before. Worried about running late, leaving something behind, nervous about a final exam, but nothing ever to this extent. This was more than stress, and he knew it.

“Let’s go inside and talk, yeah?” He murmured, ignoring your comment and leading you back into your home, hoping to get you to talk some more.

Guiding you to the kitchen, he switched on the lights, pulling out a chair for you to sit at the dining table while he got you a glass of cold water and some paper towels.

“Have some water, baby,” He knelt on the ground, holding the cup of water to your lips.

You sniffled, closing your eyes tightly as you tried to catch your breath before taking a sip, letting him help you, and pulling the cusp away from your lips before you could cough up. You could feel his eyes boring through you, filled with fret wanting to get down to the bottom of the situation yet letting you go at your own pace.

He took the paper towel, crumbling it up into a small ball to dab over your cheeks and under your eyes, doing his best to soak up all the tears that kept pouring. His heart shook and broke in his chest, wondering what had happened to get you to this state of no return.

“Talk to me sweetheart,” He started, letting one of his hands come to hold your trembling one, giving you a firm squeeze. “What can I do to make it better?” He implored, just wanting to make whatever that was hurting you stop.

The desperation in his voice made another sob rip out from chest, face pinching into something painful as you hung your head low and wept as quietly as you could. You felt so weak and helpless, hating that you pushed yourself to the point where you made the one person who vowed to always be there for you feel as though he wasn’t.

“Babe, shhh, hey c’mon,” He murmured, immediately wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you close to him and burying your face in his chest, “It’s okay. I’m right here, baby. S’okay.”

You hadn’t said anything just amounting yourself to a mess of tears and unspoken feelings, not knowing how you could possibly articulate what you had been going through all this time.

“I—I’m sorry,” You muffled against his chest, causing him to pull away slightly, just to look at you and shake his head wondering why you were apologizing.

“You don’t have to be sorry baby—”

“I’m fucked up, I know I am.” You blurted out, a cruelty in your voice Steve could tell was directed towards yourself, not him.

“I-I’ve been so caught up with school and work that I know I haven’t been the best girlfriend, but I swear—”

“Hey stop it.” He didn’t let you finish, furrowing his brows, determined to make you understand the words you were saying about yourself weren’t true.

“This isn’t about you not being a good girlfriend. You’re so good to me, baby and I promise you whatever it is that’s going on, isn’t because of that. Talk to me. Don’t be scared.”

He assured you with warm circles rubbed over your back, just wanting you to focus on your feelings and not on what you thought you were making him feel. The only thing that mattered to him was understanding you, and how he could fit himself into the puzzle to make it all better.

“I’m just so tired,” You broke down once again, “I don’t feel like myself anymore, and even when I look at myself…I don’t see me.” You croaked, voice breaking in between words.

“All I want to do is relax, but my brain is just on a live wire where I can’t stop thinking and then I start spiraling. If it isn’t school, then it’s work, and if it isn’t work, then I’m thinking about all of the others things I don’t have time for in between school and work.” You heaved, just feeling the panic and frustration arise at the mere conversation.

He hated how he could see the contempt you had for yourself. Fingernails biting into the palm of your hands and a deep-seated frown over your lip, as if you wanted to crawl out of your skin to be someone completely different. But there was no one like you, in his eyes. Whatever it was that you were going through he was going to stand beside you and help you get back to feeling like yourself, the girl he couldn’t imagine living without.

“I’m here for you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner,” He murmured, pushing the tear soaked strands of hair out of your face. “You work so hard all the time, you deserve a break.”

“I can’t,” you cried, shaking your head, rubbing exhaustingly at your eyes, “I physically can’t. I can’t fall behind when I already am.”

You wanted to listen to his advice, the knowing that deep down he was so very right, but you couldn’t look past the idea of letting people down and falling behind when you knew it was impossible to play catch up.

Steve knew how you operated on a one track mind to get things done and out of the way, which was obviously ideal. However, the amount of physical, emotional, and mental strain the work ethic had put you in was enough confirmation that he needed to step in before it got worse.

“Listen to me, hon,” He said tenderly, grasping your face in his hands, “You need a break. I’m not saying you have to abandon everything, but you need to take it easy on yourself. Learn how to step away and breathe. You’re going to work yourself to death if you keep this up…and you know I can’t live without you.”

His sentiment was true and sweet, something he was able to be at all times, even at times like this.

“I’m not going to let you fall behind, baby.” He promised you, swiping his thumbs over your cheeks, pressing a chaste kiss over your lips before he continued, “I’ll help you and we can take it on together, but you can’t keep stuff like this from me okay? The last thing I ever want you to feel is like you have to do it all alone.”

You sniffled, nodding as you swallowed back the lump in your throat, hiccuping slightly, “I-I know, I’m just usually so good at taking on everything, but I don’t know what happened.” You admitted with a shrug.

He nodded understandingly. “You might not feel it, but you’re overworked and that’s okay. I’m going to be here to help any way I can. With school, with work…with breaks.” He smiled softly.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” You stared up at him apologetically, wishing you hadn’t waited so long to tell him, knowing that he was always your number one confidant and supporter through everything.

Still, he shook his head, caressing your cheeks, “Don’t apologize, I’m here now and I promise it’s going to get better.”

He held you in his arms a little longer, letting you cry the rest of your tears into his chest, before suggesting to head up to your room. Agreeing, he grabbed a fresh cup of water to keep at your bedside before following you up the stairs and into your room.

Books and papers were sprawled out across your desk, hinting to him what had gone down before you called. He knew that school was beginning to take a toll on you with bigger projects and finals approaching, but had no idea it was getting worse and worse as the days passed by—but no longer, not with him around.

“Let me just…” You spoke under your breath, heading towards your desk to get everything cleaned up, now that Steve was spending the night and not wanting him to deal with the mess.

But he was quick to stop you, grabbing you gently by the wrist before you could even close the textbook, causing you to follow his lead to your bed.

“Hey…” He murmured, setting the cup down on the small table beside your lamp, “we’ll figure it out in the morning okay?”

“Hmm,” You hummed with a nod, letting him situate you into bed before toeing off his shoes and getting in beside you.

You turned to face him after he switched off the lamp, encasing you both in complete darkness. Eyes adjusting to the light, enough for you to make out his face, eyes closed peacefully, as his arms went instinctively around your frame, pulling you closer into him—the feeling you had been missing so desperately, wondering why you ever even thought to push it away.

“You know I’ll be here whenever you need me, all the time okay?” His voice broke the silence, nuzzling his face closer to yours, hoping you knew how true every word was.

“I know,” you promised, jutting your chin up to press a kiss to his lips that he smiled into, kissing you back a little harder wanting you to remember the feeling and that alone.

All the stress still lingered in the back of your mind, but the feeling that consumed wasn’t the fear or the exhaustion that had been weighing you down. It was the knowing that you were allowed to feel your feelings around Steve, and the security to know he was your person, rain or shine—and that in itself was enough for you to know it was going to be okay.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: very short one shot in honor of seasonal depression doing its big one on me...but don't worry im surviving through my safe space fiction characters!!! i hope you are all doing well and thank you again for sticking around!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[supernovafics]

hiiii i just read your entire i’ll be there for you universe and I’M OBSESSED❤️❤️ Friends to lovers is my favourite trope ever and I love how you wrote a cute slow burn without characters being toxic and mean towards each other bc that happens a lot!

I was wondering how would their parents react to them being together?? And when do they decide to tell their parents, and how it goes down? It’s totally okay if you don’t want to write it but I thought it might be cute!🌸🌸

𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k words

warnings: explicit language, fluff, implied smut, very slight parent drama

summary: in which your parents finally find out that you and steve are dating 

author's note: thanks for the request! (also for @hippiefairy02 since you requested basically the same thing like a week ago lol). i didn’t really know how to end this one so it kinda just ends lol<3 enjoy though<333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Spring 1986

The movie became long forgotten after only the first twenty minutes, which was somewhat of a routine at this point. It was a good thing that you both had seen this one already. 

If you were to look back at who started everything this time around you’d toss the blame onto Steve for initiating the first kiss, but he’d put the blame on you for settling yourself close into his side and giving him a “certain look.”

You were far from thinking about who started what, though, because all you could focus on was the feel of Steve settled on top of you and his mouth against yours. 

Your hands started traveling underneath his plain white t-shirt and one of his took hold of your hip, teasingly slipping a finger or two beneath the waistband of your small pajama shorts. Your legs were tangled with his in a way that was a bit awkward because the couch was way too small to do anything completely comfortably, but you two were okay with making it work for the time being. 

You maneuvered a bit, attempting to push up so that your head could find the pillow that was leaning against the arm of the couch, and the abrupt movement made your forehead bump his.

It didn’t even hurt, but Steve still pulled back and looked at you concerned. “You okay?”

You nodded as you tilted your head up a bit to press a quick kiss against his nose. “I’m fine. You okay?”

“‘M good.” He nodded too and then slotted his lips against yours again.  

You were pulling away after only a second. “Wait, let’s switch. I feel like I’m gonna accidentally knee you or something.”

“Or we can just go to one of our rooms,” He suggested as his lips found your neck, which immediately made your eyes slip shut and you had to bite your lip to hold back the contented sigh that you wanted to let out. 

You almost said yes to Steve’s words, it would’ve been so easy to say yes, but you were trying to keep your thinking somewhat rational, so you shook your head instead. “If we do that, we’re not gonna come out for the rest of the night. And we said that we’d at least try to study for the test we have on Thursday once the movie’s over.”

“The movie we’re not watching,” He mumbled against your neck. 

“Still counts,” You said, lightly pushing him away, and he conceded as you shifted things around so that you were on top of him, settled nicely in his lap with your legs on either side of him. “See? Much better.” 

Before he could potentially say anything in response, you pushed a hand through his hair and leaned down to kiss him. His fingers started teasingly playing with the hem of your t-shirt before simply finding a home on your hips and squeezing you there. 

It was almost too obvious what should’ve happened next and both of you could feel the energy shifting into something a bit more heated, more needy. You would’ve lifted from his lap for a second so that he could slide down his sweatpants and boxers, and then you’d simply pull your underwear and shorts to the side because it would’ve been too much work to fully shimmy out of them. 

But then the phone started ringing in the kitchen and everything that felt like it was right on the verge of happening was pushed out of the window.  

You detached your mouth from Steve’s and sat up. “I’ll get it.”

He let out a groan, head falling back against the throw pillow and hands still on your hips. “Don’t.”

“We have six needy kids and a Robin, I think we have to answer it.”  

“Sadly, that makes sense,” His grip on you loosened and you finally maneuvered off of him after pressing a quick kiss against his forehead. 

You went to the kitchen, where the phone was, and picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hi,” It was easy to decipher your mom’s voice on the other end of the line. “What are you doing Saturday?”

It wasn’t surprising to you that your mom completely skipped past any sort of small talk; the “How are you’s” and “How’ve you been’s.” She always got straight to the point. 

“Me and Steve are gonna be out of town this weekend,” You answered. “I planned this whole date thing and we leave Friday night.” 

It was completely accidental; so accidental that at first, you didn’t even register what you had just told her.

“You and Steve are what?” 

“We’re gonna be in Chicago this weekend for—” You stopped abruptly, finally realizing what you said before. “Oh. Oh, yeah, um, we’re dating.” 

Her gasp was immediate. “Oh my God.”

You couldn’t decipher what that reaction was. She sounded surprised, definitely, but you couldn’t tell if it was a happy kind of surprise or upset.

“How long has it been?”

“A few months.” You shut your eyes then, bracing yourself for what you knew was about to be nothing short of an interrogation.

“What? Why haven’t you told us sooner?”

In all honesty, it wasn’t like either you or Steve were planning on keeping it from your parents forever, it had just never come up in the handful of conversations you’d had with them over the last few months. 

“It’s just, I don’t know. It hadn’t come up yet,” You ultimately answered. “And plus, you never really cared that much about my other relationships.”

“Sure, but Steve’s completely different. This is great!” She told you, and you inwardly sighed in relief that she was happy about the news; even though you were certain that you wouldn’t have cared about having her “approval” either way. “Does Christine know?” 

“No.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna call her right now,” Your mom told you, and you were actually perfectly okay with her ending the call with you right then to go call Steve’s mom instead. “Oh, this is so great!”

She was hanging up before you could say anything else and you were sighing as you placed the phone back on the hook.

“I’m sorry,” You told Steve as you joined him back on the couch. 

He looked at you, confused. “What happened?”

“I accidentally just told my mom that we’re dating, and now she’s calling your mom to tell her too.”  

“Oh, okay, that’s not that bad,” He shrugged. “I guess it had to happen eventually.”

“Yes, but I was kinda hoping that that day would be years from now. Like, when we sent out wedding invitations or something.” 

In your head, telling your friends about you and Steve was one thing, but telling your parents was something entirely different. Your friends were heavily involved in your life, and you knew that you couldn’t keep it from them forever because of that; and then it eventually just felt right to finally be honest about it, anyway. 

Telling your parents, on the other hand, was the farthest thing from your mind. 

“They would probably kill us if we did that. Especially our moms because you know that they’re gonna wanna be involved in the whole thing,” Steve told you, and you knew he was right. 

There were some few and far in-between moments where your parents would switch and pretend to be real parents that were actually involved in their kid’s life. Usually, it only happened during the holidays; Christmases spent pretending that you were a happy and normal family or Thanksgivings that were used to prove the same thing. In a way, it made sense for this news to warrant that same kind of treatment.

You groaned as you leaned further into Steve. “I hate that you’re right.”

Your mom was calling back barely twenty minutes later, right as the two of you were in the middle picking up where you had left off before the first call. Steve answered that time, pulling his sweatpants back up and heading over to the kitchen, and you slipped your shirt back over your head.

“Oh, um, yeah, that’s fine. That night is good,” You heard him say. “We’ll be there.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at whatever he was agreeing to right then.  

He hung up a few moments later and gave you an apologetic look. “Okay, now I’m the one that needs to say sorry.”

“What happened?”

“It was your mom,” Steve started as he sat next to you again. “She said she talked to my mom and they’re both really happy about us dating. And they decided that they wanna have a “celebratory dinner” kind of thing with us.”

“No.”

Steve nodded. “It’s gonna be at your parent’s house on Thursday since she knows that we’re going to Chicago for the weekend. I couldn’t think of an excuse on the spot, so I was just agreeing.”

“Oh, God. I feel like this is gonna be like Thanksgiving all over again.”

“Hopefully the dessert is better this time around,” He said, attempting to lighten the mood, and you let out a laugh. 

“If not, then we will definitely be ending the night at Third Street,” You told him and he nodded in agreement before pulling you into his lap. 

“Can we please go to my room?” He asked, arms circling around you. “I feel like the couch is cursed.”

You smiled, lips finding his for a brief second. “Okay, yes, I’ll allow it.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

This night didn’t feel anything like the Thanksgiving dinner that you and Steve had been forced to have all those months ago; at least, not at first. During that night, your parents had gone on and on about their ski trip that was coming up and there were barely any moments where the conversation was focused on you and Steve. 

Now things were different because all they cared about was talking about you two, which did make sense given the reasoning for the dinner. But still, you knew your parents, and this amount of excited fanfare surrounding the two of you felt entirely unexpected. 

Your dad was jokingly giving his “stamp of approval” for the relationship, and Steve’s dad was saying something about how you’d always been a good influence on Steve. And then your moms went on tangent after tangent going down memory lane and telling stories about you and Steve as kids. 

“I’d been hoping this would happen ever since the cruise,” Christine said, a happy smile on her face. “You two were practically attached at the hip the entire time, and that still hasn’t changed.” 

“Yes, you guys were always so cute together. Oh, and remember when you took each other to your proms? I think I still have the pictures somewhere,” Your mom said, smiling happily as well, and you honestly wouldn’t have even minded if she brought out the pictures. 

Eventually, though, things shifted, and toward the end of dinner, the conversation moved away from you and Steve. Instead, your parents started reminiscing about old moments from their collective friendship that didn’t involve you and Steve at all. This made sense to you; you knew that it could only be a matter of time before they finally started talking about themselves.   

With the topic of you and Steve long forgotten, you two slipped away from the table, no one noticing or stopping you, and retreated to your old bedroom that was just down the hall. 

You sat at the foot of your old bed and watched as Steve simply walked around, taking a look at the things that you had decided to leave behind and not bring along to the apartment. 

You kicked your shoes off and crossed your legs under you. “Tonight actually hasn’t been completely unbearable.” 

“Yeah, weirdly, it hasn’t,” Steve agreed as he walked over to you and leaned down to press a kiss against the top of your head. “There’s no dessert though, so we’ll have to go to Third Street.”

“Do you think they’d notice if we slipped out of my window right now?” 

He laughed a bit. “Fifty-fifty shot.”

“Personally, I wouldn’t mind taking those odds,” You said, smiling up at him. 

“I would say okay, but I think I have to be the reasonable one here and say that we should just walk out the front door like normal people.”

His words only made you smile wider because usually, it was you who would say the logical thing to do in situations.

“We’ve swapped roles tonight,” You said as you stood up and put your shoes back on. “I think you do a great job as the reasonable one.” 

“I don’t like it. You can have that job back after tonight,” He told you, smiling as his hand found yours.

You only nodded as you and he headed out of your bedroom. Your parents were still at the dining table, laughing about something that you didn’t hear. 

“Hey, we’re gonna head out. We have to wake up early tomorrow, so yeah,” You said, pulling their attention onto you and Steve. It was a lie, but it felt like it would be a plausible enough excuse. “Thanks for tonight.” 

“Yeah, it was great,” Steve agreed with a quick nod. 

A slew of “Goodnight’s” and “Drive safe’s” came from your parents, which you two nodded and smiled at before exiting your house. 

You let out a sigh of relief once you were sat in the passenger seat of Steve’s car. 

The night hadn’t been horrible, you’d experienced much worse dinners with your parents. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t glad that this one was over. 

“So, are we gonna be basic tonight and do milkshakes, or have whatever pie Mary made for the night?” You asked as you played with the radio and then left it on a station that you’d probably end up changing in a minute or two. 

Steve took a quick glance at you and smiled. “If she made apple, then I think the answer is obvious.”

“Very true,” You nodded and smiled back at him. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[moonstruckme]

omg mae bae happy bday and congrats on 7k wowie! would you do apple pie, ¹⁰⁾ a six pack of beer and an apology, with steve harrington? <3

Thank you lovely <3

cw: alcohol, spin the bottle

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Steve finds you in the kitchen. You’ve procured a pair of scissors from somewhere, and you’re snipping apart those plastic rings that hold together six-packs. You glance up as he comes in but look away quickly, picking another up off the counter. 

“Turtles strangle themselves on these things,” you say. You snip a corner, the sound short and crisp. “I don’t know why we still use them.” 

Steve honestly doesn’t think much about sea animals when he’s drinking a beer, but he wants to agree with you. “Me neither.” 

“It’s like, we’re supposed to be this advanced society. Can’t we come up with something that doesn’t kill turtles?” 

“Mhm. Probably.” 

“I just think it’s dumb.” You push out a breath. It sounds frustrated, but Steve knows you well. You’re more stressed than angry. He’s not patient enough to wait for you to get around to telling him that yourself. 

“What’re you doing in here?” he asks. 

You look up at him again. Shrug. “I was sick of being out there.”

“You wanna go home?” 

“Do you?” 

It’s a fair thing to ask. Steve’s your ride, so leaving these things is usually a joint decision. But he feels like the question is pointed. “Do you think I wanna go home?” 

“I don’t know.” Some of the stress is seeping into your voice now, your terseness taking on a new hue. “You seemed mad.” 

He was mad (is mad?). He just hasn’t figured out if it’s fair for him to be, yet, so he wasn’t planning on making it your business. He thought that would be the nice thing to do, but you don’t seem to appreciate being left out of the loop. 

“Do I seem mad now?” he asks. 

You cut through the last plastic ring with a harsh snap. “Christ, Steve, I don’t know. Why are you asking me all this?” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and though it’s automatic he does mean it. “I’m not trying to be mad at you.” 

Your eyes meet his, crushed before you can hide it. “But you are.” 

“Not—” He sighs, jamming his thumb against his brow bone. It’s an anxious habit, a preventative measure against potential headaches. “Not really. Not in a way that’s important.” 

“I think it’s important anytime you’re mad at me,” you say. Your voice has softened and smalled. Steve feels like his guts are in knots. He wants to make an excuse, to explain—It’s not that I’m actually mad at you. I haven’t decided if I should be. So we’re all good, right? For now, I mean. At least until I decide.—but before he get the chance to further fuck things up you ask, “Can you tell me what you’re mad about?” 

Steve drops his hand to look at you. “You really don’t know?”

You wince, and he thinks you do know. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m sorry.” 

He feels his brows furrow. “For what to happen?” 

“For it to land on you.” 

“That’s not…it’s spin the bottle. You can’t control who it lands on. That’s the point.” 

You shake your head, almost to yourself. Your fingers are fiddling with the ends of your sleeves. “I shouldn’t have even played. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have if I’d known that was gonna happen.” 

“What do you keep apologizing for?” Some accidental anger makes its way into Steve’s tone. “Who did you want to kiss?”

You blink. “No one.” 

“Nobody plays spin the bottle unless they want to kiss someone.” 

“Well, I guess I changed my mind.” 

“Why?” 

“Because!” Your voice rises, and you lower it just as quickly. You both glance to the kitchen entryway like the calvary is going to come force you back to that stupid party just because you almost yelled. “Because,” you say, quieter, “it was weird.”

Steve forgets to even try to keep his face in check. He feels it twist with hurt. “It was?” 

“Yes! Everyone was looking at us, and it was like a game—it was a game.” You pull your sleeves over your hands, shoulders winding up tight. “I guess I just feel like that sort of thing should be private.”

Awareness dawns upon him like a slow sunrise. Steve has never been known for his book smarts, but he’s not stupid. He knows what it feels like to be liked. He’s just never known what it felt like to be liked by you. 

A little laugh of disbelief stumbles out of him. “You said ‘ew.’” 

You’d been tipsier and fizzy with excitement when the game had started. Smiling and laughing at everything, your giddiness palpable. When your turn had come, Steve had watched you carefully to see if your eyes did that hopeful flit to someone in the circle, but all your concentration had been on the bottle, your smile slipping just a little as it spun. And landed on him. 

Ew, you laughed. No, c’mon, you can’t make us.

That’s the game, Marcy had reminded you gleefully. As a resister, you now had the attention of most of the circle. It wasn’t Steve’s first time playing. He knew how it went. 

Relax. He’d forced a smile, getting onto his hands and knees to meet you in the middle. It’ll be quick. Not too disgusting.

You’d made a face of humorous unwillingness, your eyes darting around the group as if seeking rescue. Fine, you relented. If it’s not a big deal to you, it’s not to me. 

Steve had done this more than once, but it felt especially awkward with you. Crawling into the middle of a circle of spectators, your hand knocking the bottle so that it clinked and rolled. True to his promise, he kept it brief, a short, painless press of his lips. Hardly enough to feel the impression of yours before you were both pulling away, Steve silent and you spewing a string of nervous giggles. 

You’d left before it was Steve’s turn to spin. 

Now you seem near to ripping the sleeves of your shirt, the material stretched over your curled fingers as you worry your lip. You’re back to not looking at him. “I didn’t mean ‘ew’ at you.” 

It had sure sounded like it. “Then what did you mean?”

“I meant it, like, I didn’t like how things were going.” You laugh at yourself, the sound stymied. “Like ew, we have to kiss in front of everyone, or ew, Chris is watching us way too intently.”

Steve makes a face. “He was?” 

“Is that what you’re mad about?” Something seems to dawn upon you now, too, your expression clearing. “That I said that?” 

He looks at you for a second. “Well, it sounds stupid when you say it out loud.” 

“No it doesn’t,” you say, but you look to be fighting a grin. “I’m sorry, it’s not stupid. I didn’t mean to be mean.” 

“It’s okay,” he says genuinely. 

You shake your head. “I wasn’t thinking. But that’s not what I meant.” 

Steve knows this now, but he teases you anyway. “Are you sure about that?” 

You hesitate only half a second before you catch onto what he’s doing. Your smile starts to win. “I’m sure.” 

“Kissing me doesn’t disgust you?” 

“No.” Your voice is bashful now, but your eyes are steady on his as you take a step toward him. 

The knots in Steve’s guts aren’t getting any looser, though there’s a different kind of commotion going on there now. “I don’t know if I believe you.” 

You reach for each other at the same time, his hands on your ribs and yours on either side of his face, and this time there’s no glass bottles to knock or rules to adhere to or spectators to appease. This kiss isn’t short.

[lizzie-boo]

I'm Your Gift

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You surprise Steve with an early Christmas gift, you in a new lingerie set.

Words: 480

Ficmas Day 1

A/N: There's no smut in this cause I'm still unsure about writing it. But there is potential for it so if that's something you would be interested in let me know and I might make an extended version or a part two for this.

“I know we said we weren’t doing gifts this year but I got you a little something that I wanted to give you,” you tell your boyfriend Steve who is lying next to you in bed. 

“Baby you didn’t have to,” He says while rubbing his thumb across your cheek. 

You roll your eyes at him. “If it makes you feel better it’s technically for me, but it’s also a gift for you. You’ll understand in a minute.” He quirks his brow at you and you have to bite your lip to keep from smiling. “I’ll be right back.” You jump out of bed and race out of the room. 

Steve leans back into the pillows and crosses his legs while he waits for you to come back. Your words swirl around his brain but he can’t figure out what you mean. What could be for you but also a gift for him? Your light knock on the bedroom door snaps him from his thoughts. Pushing the door open you stand in the doorway. Steve’s mouth falls open as he stares at you. The hallway light shines behind you making it seem as if you are glowing. 

You take a cautious step into the room unsure if he likes the present or not. It’s not until you make your way over to the bed and see the noticeable tent in his jeans that you know you made the right choice with this gift. Carefully climbing onto the bed you straddle his lap. 

“I’m your gift, you can unwrap me if you want,” you whisper, suddenly feeling shy at his lack of response. 

His fingers trail up the red velvet fabric that covers the middle of your torso. He trails his fingers all the way up to the bow that is resting against your neck. His other hand rests against the two strips of fabric covering your hip. 

His eyes trail over you taking in every inch of skin that isn’t covered in fabric, not that there was much covered to begin with. Taking a deep breath you reach up and remove the two bows you had stuck on your boobs earlier in an attempt to cover a bit more skin. Steve’s eyes widen even more as his fingers trace the outer edge of your newly exposed skin. 

“This is the best present ever,” he mumbles in awe. 

Leaning in you place your lips to the shell of his ear. Then whispering you tell him, “Just wait until you realize there’s a lot less being covered than you think.” 

His eyebrows shoot up as he chokes in a breath. You bite your lip again trying not to laugh at his reaction. “Easy access, just for you,” is the last thing you say before he flips you on your back and begins his exploration of the bright red lingerie and your body.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Perv!Dark!Jim Hopper x fem!reader | This is a very long chapter!!! | I don’t even know the word count, but it’s a LOT…

PART ONE | PART TWO

The previous night had been one of the worst in Jim Hopper’s life. He’d endured the long hours till morning with the company of cigarettes and alcohol, ruminating on the way he’d potentially ruined his life the night before. How could he have allowed his obsession with you to sink this low? To the point of revealing his secret in the most damning way possible, literally caught with his pants down (or at least, undone). Hopper had gone to your home last night with the plan of seeing you and your boyfriend, Steve Harrington. To satisfy his curiosity about the relationship the two of you had together. Was Steve really as perfect as he seemed? Were you genuinely happy with him? Or, more pressing on Hopper’s mind, was Steve Harrington able to satisfy you?

Hopper had gotten more answers than he’d expected however, when he’d accidentally stumbled upon you and Steve sharing an intimate moment together. Nothing, especially Hopper’s barely existent sense of shame, could have stopped him from watching. He’d certainly felt shame after being caught, however. The expression in your eyes when you’d spotted him was…impossible for Hopper to read. You hadn’t looked embarrassed, or horrified, or even surprised, at least as Hopper had perceived. It’s possible, he told himself, that you were exceptionally good at hiding your emotions. Or maybe…maybe you’d known that Hopper was watching all along…?

The thought had occurred to him at some point during the night, after yet another failed attempt at sleep. Hopper stared up at the ceiling of his trailer, naked and drunkenly sprawled on his couch. He was surrounded by empty beer cans, a cigarette burning down between his lips. He watched the smoke rise to the ceiling, coiling above him in an almost hypnotic spiral, at least to his alcohol-soaked perception. The image above Hopper perfectly mirrored his life spiraling-out-of-control, and he chuckled darkly at the irony of it. Hopper thought again of your eyes, their expression which completely eluded him. And then…a new possibility occurred to him. What if you hadn’t been shocked at all by his behavior, Hopper wondered? What if the secret of his obsession was something you already knew about? Had you realized Hopper wasn’t what he seemed, that Hawkins’ Chief of Police was actually less a servant of the community, and more a slave to his own perverted impulses?

Hopper found a sick sort of comfort in this new theory, in the idea that you might have already known his secret. If you’d known he was watching you last night, along with the reason why, perhaps you’d have less reason to be shocked at his indecent behavior? Your expression had appeared so vague to Hopper, maybe because you’d known he was there watching all along? Hopper lay on his couch, wondering…if maybe you’d left your curtains pulled on purpose? Had you wanted Hopper to see your boyfriend fuck you?

The character profile Hopper had constructed of you was of an innocent girl yet to be corrupted. If he’d been wrong all this time, and you were actually as deviant as he was, then the possibility of Hopper having you became more real to him. Maybe you liked the idea of being watched, of being obsessed over? Had your innocent behavior around Hopper been an act this whole time, a game you were playing at his expense? Did you get off on knowing he wanted you, but couldn’t have you?

The sun was rising, reminding Hopper of the time. He checked his watch, realizing he’d have to leave for the station soon. Facing you would be much easier if his theory about you was right. Part of him knew it was a long shot, but fuck, Hopper needed this fantasy, the hope that you secretly liked his lusting after you, that you wanted to be wanted by him…?

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The drive to the station was relatively easy for Hopper, considering the fact that he’d had zero sleep the night before and his hangover was getting progressively worse. Regardless of how awful he felt, Hopper was impatient to receive some kind of feedback from you, whether negative or positive. Not knowing how you were feeling about last night was tying a knot in Hopper’s stomach. And as soon as he entered the station, that knot in his stomach tightened.

A young woman Hopper didn’t recognize was seated at your desk. He stopped in his tracks, surprised and growing increasingly worried. Where the hell were you?

Hopper approached the secretarial desk. “Uh, hey,” he began tentatively. “Where’s (y/n)?”

The young woman smiled back at Hopper, and in spite of his anxiety, he couldn’t help but notice how attractive she was.

“(y/n) called in sick this morning,” the young woman replied. Hopper took a deep breath; his fantasy that you’d be alright with his deviant behavior was more than likely only that: a fantasy. You probably thought Hopper was the lowest scum on Earth, and couldn’t bear the thought of coming into work today and having to interact with him.

“Did she-uh-.” Hopper paused, clearing his throat. “Did she say what’s wrong, exactly? Anything specific?”

“No, but maybe she caught the flu?” the young woman replied. “I mean, her voice sounded okay over the phone. But you never know with the flu; it could be affecting her stomach-.” She looked away awkwardly, flustered and embarrassed for rambling.

Hopper took a few seconds to consider the new layer of shit he found himself in. At this point, he was sure you’d told Steve what had happened. Because, after all, Steve was your boyfriend. Why wouldn’t you tell him?

Then again, if you had told Steve, why wasn’t he at the station right now kicking Hopper’s ass? Maybe you’d begged Steve not to tell anyone, afraid you’d put your job in jeopardy?

The temporary secretary cleared her throat to get Hopper’s attention. Her big, expressive eyes drifted up and down his body, a curious smile on her face. Hopper tried to focus on her smile and not his anxiety, grateful for the distraction when she extended a pretty hand to him. “We haven’t met before,” the young woman said. “I’m Mary.”

Hopper took her hand, which disappeared in his. “Jim,” he said, adding, “Mary. That’s a beautiful name, Mary.”

She dropped her eyes bashfully, a light pink blush coloring her cheeks. Hopper already knew Mary wanted him to fuck her; it was more than obvious. Having her would be easy for several reasons. Mary was obviously young, likely nineteen or twenty, Hopper guessed. And from experience, he knew that younger women were easier conquests, because they tended to be inexperienced and therefore, attracted to someone mature and in a position of authority like Hopper.

One of the reasons Hopper was so enchanted by you was the fact that you were the exact opposite of a girl like Mary. You were young, but not so young that you automatically came with the prepackaged naïveté Hopper had grown so bored with after years of fucking women barely old enough to drink. Women who’d maybe had one or two partners, if any. Virgins were easy for Hopper to fuck, but they bored him. He needed a woman who would let him do unspeakable things to her body, not teach her how to fuck in the first place. He was too lazy for that, too selfish. Hopper wanted you, a woman who looked sweet and innocent in public, but could handle the dicking-down he intended to give you in private…

Hopper realized his thoughts were drifting again, so he forced himself to focus on the distraction in front of him: Mary. Secretary Mary. The fact that her name rhymed with her job might help him remember it for a change, Hopper realized. Usually, he didn’t waste time cataloging information about the women he fucked; it was too much of an effort for Hopper to keep track of them all.

He’d likely never see Mary again, after today. You’d be back at the station tomorrow, and Hopper could make things right with you…at least, he hoped you’d come back. The possibility of never seeing you again was something Hopper couldn’t handle right now. He needed to see you, to talk about what happened.

Mary’s pleasant voice pulled Hopper from his thoughts. “It’s nice to meet you, Jim,” she said, and he knew she meant it. “If you need anything…” Mary held the pause in her statement long enough to make sure Hopper understood the full extent of her meaning. “…You know where to find me.”

Hopper nodded politely. He knew he’d have her in the backseat of his Blazer by lunch.

“Likewise, Mary,” Hopper smiled, his voice soft and authoritative, laying the charm on thick. Mary’s subtle change in posture, the way her shoulders went back slightly, accentuating her breasts in the most innocent way possible, confirmed Hopper’s suspicions. He leaned forward, narrowing the space between them. Mary’s breathing changed instantly; Hopper could practically hear her pulse quicken. “Hey,” he whispered, a friendly grin on his lips. “I take my lunch at eleven; you wanna get out of here for awhile?”

Mary’s answer, predictably, was yes.

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Hopper had assumed correctly that Mary-the-Secretary was a virgin. She’d blurted it out as soon as he touched her, as if confessing something. Hopper didn’t react, because of course he’d already known. And he may have been compulsive when it came to sex, but he wasn’t a monster; Hopper never planned on putting his dick inside Mary. He knew she wasn’t ready for that, and he had no desire to make her first time a painful one. His only purpose in doing anything with Mary, or any woman at this point, was to use her body as a substitute for yours…

Mary had a pretty pussy and tasted sweet, so it was easy for Hopper to pretend she was you. He ate her for twenty minutes or so, and didn’t pull her panties back up for her till she’d come twice. He looked at his watch, noting that his lunch break was nearly over. Hopper gave Mary’s thigh a hearty pat and informed her it was “time to head back,” walking around to the front of the car and waiting for Mary to do the same. She of course took a bit longer than Hopper, being unsteady on her feet. Climbing into the passenger side, she closed her eyes and leaned to rest her head against Hopper’s shoulder. He grimaced, frowning at the road ahead, but Mary didn’t see his expression.

Another problem with virgins, Hopper was reminded: They get too attached and usually, right away. Especially the younger ones, who seemed to demand a dual role of Hopper that he wasn’t willing to waste time or effort to play: the role of a father figure as well as a lover. There was nothing about any of these girls that Hopper wanted to nurture, and he tried to convey that message early on with his behavior. But sometimes, the message wasn’t received, and Hopper had a broken heart on his hands that he’d never meant to break. He didn’t mind the slight guilt it caused his conscience this time, because Hopper knew he’d probably never see Mary again. Broken-hearted girls were easy to ignore when Hopper could avoid interacting with them.

He caught a glimpse of Mary’s face in the passenger side mirror. She was positively beaming, glowing… Hopper realized she’d probably never had an orgasm before today. He sighed to himself; she was definitely attached. Hopper didn’t want a puppy, but he seemed to now have one on his heels. Mary tried to get Hopper’s attention all day after lunch, making frequent trips into his office with one excuse or another, cheeks flushed rosy, giddy with excitement at just being near him. By the time Hopper got off duty, he was more than happy to be parting ways with Mary. She saw him leaving and trotted after Hopper to his car, asking if she could see him later tonight.

Rather than give her illusions of anything further happening between them, Hopper decided to rip the emotional bandage off quickly, and be done with it. “No, Mary,” he said over a cigarette. She watched him turn his key in the ignition, her smile softly fading. “I can’t see you tonight,” Hopper continued flatly. “I have a date.”

Mary’s sweet features melted into a look of sorrow that Hopper was familiar with. He didn’t enjoy hurting young women, but delivering a well-intentioned lie was better than handing out false hope. He backed out of the parking lot and onto the main road that ran through downtown Hawkins. It would take less than three minutes for Hopper to get to your house. He was tempted. The urge to know what was going through your head right now was eating him up inside.

As usual when it came to Hopper, temptation did get the better of him. He began to feel angry at you for denying him a response. How could you not let him know where your mind was at, after what happened last night? The anxiety of not knowing was making Hopper miserable, emotionally sick. His dick had barely gotten hard when he was eating out the temporary secretary, even though he’d mentally replaced her with you.

An ugly sense of rage began to boil in Hopper’s gut. How dare you avoid him…how dare you pretend that everything was okay, that the world wasn’t caving in, making up some absurd excuse about being sick to avoid Hopper? His grip on the steering wheel had tightened to the point of discomfort, but as with his obsession, Hopper couldn’t. let. go.

The sun was setting as Hopper pulled down your street. It reminded him of where he’d been exactly twenty-four hours ago, driving from Steve’s house to yours, and how everything about his life had changed in the hour following. Hopper saw Steve’s car in your driveway, but that didn’t stop him. He was determined to get an answer, to get some kind of reassurance from you that everything last night was real, and not the result of a drug-induced dream his subconscious had conjured up. Hopper knew he had to control himself, to stuff his rage deeper lest it take hold of him and guide his mind in a direction that would cause even more harm than he already had.

Hopper pulled to a stop in your driveway, rather than parking further down the street like he had last night. What was the point? Hopper planned on being confrontational, on getting the answers he was owed. A thin line of sweat dripped down his chest as he put the Blazer in park. Hopper’s deep blue eyes were darker than usual when he checked his reflection in the rearview mirror. He was reminded briefly of those cheesy horror movies where a character in the film becomes possessed. Their eyes were always depicted as changing color, going a darker shade, as if the demon that had overtaken them was seeping through the very windows of their soul. Hopper’s reflection was slightly jarring. He wondered what was possessing him? His answer came easily; Hopper was possessed by you.

He threw open the driver’s side door and slammed it shut. Hopper wiped the sweat from his forehead, then reached into his pocket for a cigarette, quickly deciding against it. He didn’t want anything distracting him, not even a cigarette. Hopper decided he could smoke after he’d handled you. He could have rang the doorbell, but opted for the more aggressive option, banging his fist against the door in three firm, thudding knocks. A muffled voice from behind the door called out, “just a sec,” and Hopper cursed under his breath. It was Steve.

The front door pulled back and Hopper found himself once again in the presence of “King Steve,” Harrington. “What an honor,” Hopper sarcastically muttered. Steve didn’t hear, as he was too busy adjusting the t-shirt he’d obviously pulled on in a hurry to answer the door. It was on backwards, tag visible on the neckline. Steve looked less like a king and more like a pauper at the moment, his shorts crooked and hair a mess. Hopper took in the sight of the younger man, the rapid pace of his breathing, perspiration glistening on the end of Steve’s nose.

Except, it wasn’t sweat. Hopper could smell sex all over Steve, and he swallowed, hard. That was you…your sweet scent radiating from Steve’s body, covering his face and neck. Steve must have realized he looked a mess, because he quickly pulled up the bottom of his shirt and wiped his face, and ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to fix it. “Uh-hey Chief,” Steve said distractedly. “What’re you doing here?”

Hopper chewed his tongue so hard it hurt. How he wanted to end Steve Harrington, to shove past him and into your house. Hopper would find you and finish the job for Steve. And he’d do it better, too…

Hopper realized you must not have told Steve about last night, and that the time to confront you was not now. He took a deep breath before speaking. “I heard (y/n) called in sick today,” Hopper said quietly, then cleared his throat to speak more clearly. “Just checking to make sure she’s okay.”

Steve leaned an elbow against the doorway, nodding quickly and assuring Hopper in a flurry of words that you were “fine-just fine,” and “I’ll let her know you uh-you stopped by-.” And then, the door closed in Hopper’s face…

──────────────────

Hours passed.

Hopper drank.

The Hideaway stayed open till three AM on Mondays. It was a clever business move designed to entice customers in after what was typically the most stressful work day of the week. Right now, Hopper was just grateful to have a drink in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. The location didn’t matter; he would have gladly laid his cash and self respect on the bar of any nearby watering hole. Luckily for Hopper, The Hideaway was only a few minutes drive from your house, which made it the perfect place to kill time.

He checked his watch more often than he needed, drinking shot after shot of whatever contained the highest percentage of alcohol. After his encounter with Steve that evening, Hopper needed this. If he was angry before, he was furious now. That bastard had literally been fucking you in the next room right before answering the door. Hopper threw back another shot of vodka, sucking the last of it from the glass. The bartender had been watching him for some time now, taking note of how much alcohol Hopper was consuming. He’d known Hopper long before he was ever an officer, or an adult for that matter. Randy had known Hopper his entire life. He understood the pain Hopper had endured, from his time in Vietnam to the death of his daughter, and the eventual breakdown of his marriage. Randy understood how a man like Hopper could be motivated to drink in excess, turning to alcohol to quiet the memories that haunted him, like so many others who visited the bar. Although Hopper was an adult now, Randy still kept an eye on how much alcohol he had while in his establishment. It was one small way Randy could still take care of him. And he decided that Hopper had had enough.

“Hey Jimmy,” the old man said, approaching Hopper from behind the bar. He had a glass in one hand and a towel in the other, drying it as he spoke. “You driving tonight?”

Hopper shook his head ‘no,’ and then laughed. Why should he lie? He was the Chief of Police, after all. But to spare the old man any worry, Hopper didn’t retract his lie. Instead, he doubled down on it, telling Randy through a series of slurred words that he’d walked there tonight, and planned on walking home. Randy wasn’t convinced; he knew Hopper’s trailer was all the way out by Lover’s Lake. Too far for anyone to choose walking into town over driving. But there was nothing else the old man could do besides refuse Hopper anymore alcohol. “Regardless,” Randy said. “I think it’s time for you to call it a night, Jimmy.”

Hopper groaned, rising from his barstool. He opened his wallet and removed more than enough money to pay his tab, leaving it on the bar. “Keep th’change, Randy,” he drawled, adding “Thanks for always lookin’ out for me.” Hopper staggered to the front door, leaning on it for support as he pushed it open. The night was beautiful; the cloudless sky an inky canvas, sprinkled with stars that were easily visible. Hopper stood in place but swayed on his feet, staring up at the moon. He wondered if your bedroom curtain was open tonight, letting the moonlight in? Hopper decided to find out for himself…

──────────────────

You’d said goodnight to Steve around eleven that evening. After a long bath, you’d climbed into bed with a good book, read for awhile, then switched off your bedside lamp to go to sleep. Your mind, however, had different plans for you.

It had been nearly impossible to stop thinking about Hopper since last night. He’d been on your mind so often throughout the day, you’d swear he’d taken up residence inside your head. You knew he’d stopped by earlier that afternoon, claiming he wanted to make sure you were feeling better, or something to that effect. But you knew the real reason Hopper had shown up at your door, and that he was also worried you’d told Steve, maybe everyone, about last night. Your absence at work must have confirmed Hopper’s worry.

The truth, however, was much more complicated. You knew Hopper was sick. You’d known for awhile now. You’d seen the way he looked at you, sensed the energy coming from him. You’d recently become aware of Hopper’s compulsive masturbation in his office, ever since you’d taken his trash liner out (as you did with all the bins at the station before clocking out every night). At first, you’d been shocked by your discovery…but you quickly became intrigued. You wondered why Hopper needed to come so often…if maybe the way he looked at you was an indication of where his need was coming from?

The possibility of Chief Jim Hopper wanting you that desperately was…intoxicating. You’d had a crush on him from the moment you met, and in spite of your relationship with Steve, your crush had flourished into a kind of obsession. You knew exactly which cigarettes Hopper smoked (Camel’s, that was his preferred brand) how he liked his coffee (black with a spoonful of honey on the side), that his beer of choice was Schlitz. You’d purchased an aftershave that smelled like Hopper and made Steve use it. You’d snuck a peek at the tag on the navy jacket Hopper wore, and purchased one for yourself.

A favorite ritual of yours was to lay in bed wearing Hopper’s jacket and nothing else. You’d sprinkle a few drops of his aftershave onto your chest, and touch yourself. It wasn’t the same as having Hopper, but…it was enough to get you through the nights when Steve couldn’t satisfy you. Of course, your boyfriend made you come, and often. Steve was amazing in bed, and the sex you had with him was nearly perfect. The one fault you had with Steve (and it was major) was his sex drive. He simply didn’t need sex as much as you did, as often or as rough. Sometimes, you’d convince Steve to play rougher and he would, but not without asking a million times afterwards if he’d hurt you, if he’d made you feel cheap or used, or unloved? Steve was sweet, but his sweetness often got in the way of pursuing rougher intimacy, the kind you craved.

Like last night…Spitting into your mouth, and fucking you in the ass, were acts Steve never would have initiated himself. He preferred gentle, tender sex over anything. While Steve was content to be making love, you needed to be fucked. You wanted a man like Hopper to hurt you and not apologize for it. You wanted him to pump and dump you, leave you split in half and covered in his cum, and to never once say sorry…

You knew Hopper was sick, and you didn’t judge him for it. Because what no one else knew, not even Steve, was that you were sick, too. You couldn’t get enough sex, and Steve wasn’t meeting your needs. You’d kept your crush on Hopper a secret, resigning yourself to good, not great, sex.

When you saw Hopper standing outside your house last night, you made the spontaneous decision to dance for him. And when Steve appeared in the doorway, you realized an even better opportunity to ‘perform,’ for Hopper had presented itself.

Making sure to stand directly in front of the window where you knew Hopper could see everything, you’d let Steve fuck you. Knowing that Hopper was watching in secret made you unbelievably aroused. Seeing him coming all over himself afterwards was the confirmation you needed that Hopper wanted you. The visit he’d made to your home earlier had only been the beginning. You knew that if Jim Hopper wanted to fuck you…he’d be back.

The sound of your front door being unlocked startled you. It must be Steve, of course, since your boyfriend is the only other person with a key to your house. At least, that’s what you thought…

“Steve?”

The door slammed shut. Footsteps on the stairs told you immediately that this was not Steve. You knew his gait, the sound of his walk. You’d heard your boyfriend go up and down those stairs dozens of times. These steps were heavy, uneven. The intruder paused at the sound of your voice, when you called out “who’s there?”

Hopper stepped through your bedroom doorway, making you jump. “S’okay, it’s alright,” he said, lifting his hands to show you he meant no harm. “I just wanna talk, okay? We need to fuckin’ talk…” Hopper sat on the end of your bed, his weight shifting the mattress under you.

“I don’t want to talk,” you told him, to which Hopper immediately replied, “I understand. You’re probably very confused about last night, but you don’t have to be embarrassed.” You tried to interrupt, but Hopper wouldn’t let you get a word in. “I just wish you would have fucking talked to me.” His voice was intense, darker. “You don’t show up at work- What am I supposed to think?!” Hopper slammed his fist against your bed, making you jump. “That my life is over? That I’m never gonna see you again?” Hopper’s speech was slurred, but you understood exactly what he was saying.

He was staring you down, his eyes lingering over the sheet concealing you. Hopper wanted so badly to rip the fabric back and see your body beneath it. All of his strength was focused on controlling himself, because despite the alcohol slurring Hopper’s words, he was very much aware of what was happening, and where he was. He was sitting on your bed, the most intimate place in your home. The place where you laid your head each night and dreamed, where you likely touched yourself. You were so vulnerable like this, Hopper realized. If he lost control right now, and let his darker impulses take hold of him, he might do something even worse than he’d done last night…

“I don’t want to talk,” you repeated, and Hopper laughed darkly. “Well that’s just fine, because I AM gonna talk and you’re gonna fucking LISTEN-.” Hopper grit his teeth, his jaw tensed. He wanted to punish you right now so badly, for making him endure the torture of your silence, your absence. You sat forward in bed, the sheet concealing your body falling aside. Hopper’s features softened, his lips parting slightly, eyes fixed on your exposed breasts. You watched as Hopper’s body language shifted, the muscles in his neck contracting as he swallowed. He was obviously aroused by your nakedness, and for the first time all night, Hopper was at a loss for words.

Taking his hand, you placed his palm over your breast. Hopper drew in a deep breath, staring at his hand cupping your tit, feeling your nipple harden against his palm. You repeated the same words, but slower. This time, Hopper knew precisely their meaning: “…I don’t…want…to TALK…” Hopper understood. You weren’t interested in talking. You wanted him to fuck you.

Hopper’s lips replaced his hand over your breast. Latching onto your nipple, he pressed the tip of his tongue against it before circling and sucking. Your surprised whimper at his intensity made Hopper’s cock stiffen, throbbing against the confines of his jeans. He sank his teeth lightly into your breast, grunting into your tit when a low moan escaped your lips. The sounds you made were divine, even prettier than Hopper had imagined.

His hands gripped the flesh at your hips, groping along your belly to your thighs. His lips crushed against yours as he used his hands to spread your thighs wide open. Hopper felt your cum on his fingers, and put them to his lips. His tongue swept over your slick once, twice, three times, because to Hopper, you tasted like God. The scent of you hadn’t done justice to the divinity of your taste. Hopper sucked his fingers clean before grabbing your legs and tugging your ass down the bed toward him. You gasped, smiling, that smile Hopper could never get tired of seeing, all innocence and corruption at the very same time; a smile that looked angelic on a mouth built for nothing but sin…

Nestling between your legs, Hopper rested his cheek against your inner thigh. He wanted to savor these sensations…your cum slicking his cheek where it rested against your thigh…your scent vanilla sweet, just inches from his nose…the view of your soaked pussy glistening wet and warm…

Hopper lowered his face and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to your clit. Your skin tasted so sweet, like a ripe peach waiting to be bitten. Hopper couldn’t go a second longer without your cunt in his mouth. With his big hands clenching your hips, Hopper pulled your cunt over his lips. Your back arched as Hopper flexed his tongue inside you, curving it around your g-spot.

Your fingers latched onto Hopper shoulders, bracing yourself as your body shivered. No one had ever licked your cunt like this, eating you from the inside out. You twisted and writhed, your lower back lifting off the mattress. If your hips hadn’t been anchored down by Hopper’s hands, you were convinced you’d be floating by now. It already felt like you were. Hopper was licking places so deep inside you, he forgot to breathe. His nose was pressed flush to your clit, his chin rutting against the curve of your ass. Hopper never wanted to leave the warmth of your cunt, not even for air. He pressed two fingers inside you and with an almost hypnotic pace, Hopper expertly fingered your cunt. He spread your slippery lips apart with his tongue, honing in on your clit. Wrapping his mouth over the raised pink bud, Hopper sucked in time with the thrusts of his fingers inside you.

Your eyes were on the ceiling, but you didn’t see it. You were floating, melting, dissolving under Hopper’s lips and around his fingers. The sopping wetness of you sprayed over Hopper’s face, your pillowy walls sucking and contracting around his fingers as you came. Hopper lapped at your cunt like a thirsty animal; he’d never been so drunk on a pussy that he’d blacked out like this, lost track of time and space and everything in between. Your cunt in Hopper’s mouth was like a strong hit of the best drug he’d ever tried. He was addicted instantly. No other pussy would be able to satisfy Hopper after this; he was sure of it. Hopper rubbed his face into your cunt, smearing your cum all over his face. He knew now why Steve was always covered in you; Hopper understood completely. Your cum smelled like every good pussy Hopper had ever had, combined.

As your hips stilled, Hopper lifted his face to look at you. Your eyes were glossy, a thin sheen of sweat coloring your cheeks ruddy, eyebrows cinched together. Your voice was weak, but you managed to softly whimper “more…” and pressed Hopper’s face into your cunt again. He took another hit, another drag, another shot of you. That euphoric bliss went straight to Hopper’s cock, and his climax took him by surprise, filling the crotch of his jeans with cum. You came harder this time, losing yourself for a moment in a black pool of pleasure, your eyes on the ceiling but not in this world anymore.

Hopper rose up from between your thighs, cum dripping off his chin as he hovered over your body. He smacked his palm against your pussy and you choked back a sob, a pain that Hopper was as quick to rub away as he was to dole out. He alternated between spanking your pussy with a force so brutal it shook the bed frame and made you cry, then rubbing his palm against your abused cunt till you were crying in pleasure. Hopper forced three fingers from one hand inside your sopping cunt and hooked them around your insides, ramming into your pussy as hard and as deep as he could, his knuckles disappearing inside you, fingertips nudging your cervix. All throughout this beautiful torture of your insides, Hopper continued to spank his other palm against your cunt. Your lips were already swollen but now, they were twice as puffy and twice as tempting to suck. Hopper removed his fingers from you and pushed his face between your legs again, growling into your plump heat, his spent cock stiffening again inside his cum-soaked jeans.

He pulled your lips between his, suckling at their pillowy softness. Hopper gulped your cum as you squirted again, sealing his open mouth over your pussy so he wouldn’t miss a drop. His stomach was full of cum, his tongue thick and heavy, and Hopper had never been a happier man. You pressed his shoulders back, and he let you climb on top of him. You rubbed yourself against Hopper’s crotch, the bulge in his jeans wet with both his cum and now yours. Speeding your lips around the outline of his cock, you humped Hopper through his jeans. The weight of you on top of his cock made Hopper groan, the rocking of your hips as you rutted over and over again along his clothed erection pushing Hopper over the edge. He came inside his jeans again, grunting through his climax as you never stopped humping him, as you drained every drop from Hopper’s cock and refused to climb off till you’d come again, too.

Despite the fact that he’d already come twice, Hopper couldn’t stop getting hard again within five minutes of coming. He pulled his cock from his jeans, shaking it by the base, letting his cum fall off his dick and onto your stomach. Hopper grabbed your hips and flipped you over, spitting on your asshole and rubbing his fat tip against it. Without warning, he buried himself inside you, splitting you open just like you wanted. You yelped in pain; Hopper’s hand found your mouth, cupping around your face from behind. “Bite down,” he ordered, shoving his fingers between your lips. Hopper fucked you harder as your teeth sank into his skin. The pain in your asshole began to subside as you braced your teeth around Hopper’s fingers. His cock was stretching your asshole beyond its capacity to hold him; but with every punch of your guts, the pain got easier and easier to take.

“I’m gonna come-,” Hopper panted over your back. “I’m gonna come again-FUCK!” Hopper emptied his third load inside you, painting your asshole with semen. His body shivered, trembling, and you felt the vibration through his cock, still hard as a diamond in your ass. Sweat dripped from Hopper’s chest onto your back. He pulled his fingers from your mouth, sucking the small bit of blood off of them. Hopper lazily humped the soft curves of your ass, pushing his cum deeper as his cock softened inside you. “You did so good,” Hopper murmured against your ear. “Such a good fucking girl…”

You tilted your head back, lips parted in a contented smile. Your hair was drenched in sweat, wispy strands sticking to your forehead. Hopper took his time kissing each one, letting his cock linger inside you, making sure every single drop of his cum was deposited there. When he did pull out, Hopper trailed kisses along the curve of your back, gently removing his cock from inside you.

“Is there a mess?” you asked, and Hopper smirked, looking down at his dick.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he replied, reaching for a tissue box on your nightstand and using them to wipe his cock clean. You realized the sun would be coming up soon, and that you’d both have to get ready for work. “How about a shower and some breakfast?” you asked, and Hopper smiled. “I’d like that,” he said.

After showering, you showed Hopper where the kitchen was and he made you both scrambled eggs and toast. He needed to leave a little early to go home and change into his uniform. You kissed Hopper goodbye and watched him walk to his vehicle through your front doorway. And it occurred to you that this…all of this…was absolutely going to happen again.

@mrshopper84

[stranger-stevieee]

Risk

Summary: You have a bad habit of falling in love too quickly, but is it really that bad if a certain someone happens to feel the same way? Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: use of y/n, fluff, angst? (maybe), cliche writing, first kiss

Look at me now Said I wouldn't do it, but I hunted you down Know you had a girl, but it didn't work out

Steve Harrington was very sought after. Every girl wanted him and every guy wanted to be him. You tried very hard to not fit into that stereotype but you failed miserably.

There was just something about him that drew you in. You told yourself that you wouldn't fall at his feet like every other girl at Hawkins High but you couldn't help it.

Now, Steve wasn't really known as a relationship guy. He was more of a "let's go out once or twice, have sex, then onto the next girl" type of guy (he was called "King Steve" for a reason after all) so it was a shock to everyone when he started dating Nancy Wheeler.

You were sad, just like every other girl, that you had lost your chance with him but when you heard about their breakup after a year of being together, you couldn't help but feel like you actually had a chance.

I'm not proud Guess I'm just scared of you shootin' it down You can just talk, and I'll stare at your mouth You could be bad, but I wanna find out,

Giving in to him wasn't your proudest moment but it was inevitable. You had decided that if you wanted him, you would have to go get him.

See that's what all these girls were doing wrong. They would wait for him to come to them and ask them out, when in reality if they wanted a chance they would have to take it. So that's exactly what you did.

You were in your history class that you happened to share with Steve and the teacher had just announced a research project that would take all month to complete.

Picking a partner would've been easy had your only friend in the class been there that day, but sadly she had stayed home for whatever reason. The bright side was, now you could take a chance.

You got up out of your seat and walked straight over to his. You were a bit nervous but decided it was now or never.

"Hey, Steve!" You spoke loudly due to your nerves but luckily he found it funny.

"Hey..." he paused

"Oh, it's Y/n," you said embarrassed that you had been fawning over this man that didn't even know your name.

"Right! That's right, I- I knew that"

"Yeah," you laughed it off, "So do you have a partner yet? For the project, I mean?" You stuttered over your words a bit, albeit scared of the potential recegection coming your way.

"No, actually, I don't"

"Okay, cool... do you wanna work on it together? Maybe?"

'Here it comes' You thought 'He's gonna say no, laugh in your face and...'

"Sure."

'Oh. Well, that was easy.'

And I wake up in the middle of the night With the light on, and I feel like I could die 'Cause you're not here, and it don't feel right

It's 4:28am and you can't stop thinking about him. You woke up from your dream almost 30 minutes ago and haven't been able to get back to sleep.

This dream just messed everything up because now you've come to the conclusion that you're in love with Steve Harrington.

This wouldn't be your first time loving someone but it is your first time being in love. There's a difference. You tend to love rather quickly and when you love, you love hard.

It takes a while for you to stop loving someone. But you have a feeling things will be different this time.

You think about what it would feel like if he were with you in that moment. But he's not, and it sucks.

God, I'm actually invested Haven't even met him Watch this be the wrong thing, classic God, I'm jumpin' in the deep end It's more fun to swim in Heard the risk is drowning, but I'm gonna take it

A couple weeks into working on the project and you still barely knew anything about him. The only thing you both talked about was the project and how it's coming along. You were getting nowhere.

"Hey, what do you think about coming to my place today?"

You had been digging through your locker looking for a specific book for your next class when Steve came up to you and it's safe to say that his words shocked you.

"What?" you asked

"Do you want to come work on the project at my place today?" Although he didn't sound like it, he was nervous asking you to come over.

"Sure!"

'Maybe she is interested in me' he thought

His heart fluttered at the sight of your excited smile.

Isn't it fun thinkin' I'm right when I'm probably wrong? Holding my breath like I met someone Knowing damn well that I haven't been touched by you In my head, you're in the car, and you're comin' to me And you get to my door, and you can't even speak But I think that it's sweet, yeah, I think that you're sweet

You knew Steve was rich, but you didn't know he was this rich. Standing in front of his house you were a bit worried about what was to come.

Once you finally worked up the nerve, you lifted your fist to knock on his front door. Inside Steve had seen your car pull up and stood by the door waiting for you to knock.

When he finally heard it, he waited a few seconds, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

"Welcome..." he sighed "Sorry I don't know why I said that, that was weird, let me start over... hey."

You had a small smile on your face trying not to laugh. "Hi... can I come in?"

"Oh, yeah of course."

"Thanks," you let out a little giggle

You walked in and looked around in awe. His house was 2x the size of yours. "Your house is amazing," you whispered.

"Yeah, it's great I guess. It does get lonely sometimes but... anyways we should probably finish the project."

He walked you over to the dining room where he already had his textbook laid out. You both sat down, took out everything you needed, and got to work.

After an hour of working you had finally finished the project and it had only taken you about 3 weeks. Even though you were finished, Steve didn't want you to leave yet so he suggested having an early dinner.

"I wouldn't have pinned you as a cook, Harrington," you said with a small smirk on your face.

"Yeah, well when there's no one around to cook for you, there's only two options. I can cook for myself or get takeout, and I obviously have to stay healthy so takeout's not ideal. Gotta stay in shape for the ladies, you know?"

'Maybe he isn't interested in me' you thought

"The ladies. Right." you let out a nervous laugh.

Too soon to tell you "I love you" Too soon to tell you "I love you" Too soon to tell you "I love you"

Steve could tell you were nervous to tell him something. You were standing in front of him on his front porch unsure if you were ready to say what you wanted to say. But you knew you couldn't keep it in any longer.

It had been months since you both finished the project and you had become even closer than before.

Ever since that day at his house, you've fallen for him more and more each day. And even though it might be too soon, you have to tell him.

"Umm... can I talk to you?"

"Sure, come in." He said stepping out of the doorway to let you in. "So, what's up?"

"Uh, so, I just wanted to say that... you've been an amazing friend."

Steve let out the breath he was holding and sighed with disappointment. That is definitely not what he wanted to hear. The exact opposite actually, but he let you continue anyway.

"But I can't just pretend that that's all I want to be. I love you and I know it's probably too soon to be saying this but—"

Steve suddenly stepped forward and brought his hand up to cup your face which shut you up quickly.

“Is it ok if I kiss you?” he whispered

“I would like that very much.”

He leaned in and connected his lips with yours and, if it was even possible, you fell in love with him even more. The kiss was soft and tender, way different than what you thought it would be.

It was the first time your lips were meeting, but you immediately knew that it wouldn’t be the last.

Steve was the first to pull away and as much as he didn't want to he knew he had to.

"I love you too, by the way"

"Good"

You're the risk, I'm gonna take it

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

❤️

You're tired of hearing about Eddie's crushes, hiding your feelings for him. Sick of feeling second best, you decide to move on.

Beer, a pool, and a very handsome Steve Harrington happens. Eddie isn't so thrilled about the Steve part.

Just a lil two parter to get back into writing

Part one

Eventual Eddie Munson x Reader

Steve Harrington x Reader

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work

❤️

It was a rainy Tuesday when Eddie broke your heart. Unknowingly, but it was broken all the same.

He had came to the Hellfire table in a suspiciously good mood. Beaming smile, eyes shining with happiness.

Turns out he had ran into Jessie who was his newest crush, she was the coolest, most badass babe on the planet according to Eddie.

This had been repeated constantly for the last few weeks and usually you were able to smile politely, pretend you weren't dying inside hearing him talk about his dream girl.

It had been this way for a year now, through multiple crushes, a few hook ups and one near potential girlfriend for Eddie, so you could push yourself to be happy for him one more time right?

No, today it was like your heart finally had enough, a deep ache was building inside you and felt like all the pain was exploding inside of you all at once.

Tears pool in your eyes and you catch the sympathetic look that Dustin throws in your direction. It's enough to sober you up instantly.

You didn't want to constantly pine over Eddie when he didn't want you, it was agony being so completely smitten with someone who noticed every woman but you.

It was like something in you just snapped and you had enough.

"Hey princess, you okay?" Eddie's voice breaks through your reverie and you startle a little as he peers at you intently with his big brown eyes.

His hand is on yours and your whole body feels alight at just his slightest touch, it was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings, Eddie could be extremely perceptive when he wanted to be.

You needed to get over how you felt about him and soon, because you were sick of the constant heartache, second guessing yourself and feeling second best to Eddie's crushes.

Moving on would be a good thing. You couldn't take it if Eddie ever found out how you felt about him, embarrassment burns inside of you just thinking about his reaction, and how awkward Hellfire would be due to his rejection.

No, it was best for everyone if you found a way to get over Eddie.

❤️

Normally you didn't go to parties, especially not parties on a school night. However, there was a small part of you that wanted a change, to have some fun and let loose.

One of Jason's friends was throwing a party at his house, there was beer kegs, wine coolers and the biggest pool you had ever seen in your life.

Eddie was at the party to do his usual dealings, he catches your eye and looks stunned for a brief second.

"What are you doing here sweetheart? Parties aren't usually your thing?" you shrug and grab a bottle of beer.

"Just wanted a change of scenery I guess" it's then you notice that Jessie was also at the party and Eddie had noticed judging by the way his eyes light up.

Your heart sinks and you're about to make an escape until Eddie tugs on your hand.

"Hey, maybe you should stick close to me incase one of Jason's dipshit friends tries anything" you smile, touched at his protectiveness but you know deep down he'd rather be talking to Jessie than trailing after you all night.

"It's okay. I saw Robin by the pool so I'll go and chat to her for a bit" he's about to say something else but Jessie comes over and takes up all of his attention.

Yup, it's definitely your time to leave. There's no way you wanted to be around for Eddie making googly eyes at Jessie.

❤️

Between the pounding music, Eddie and Jessie and the fact you've lost Robin in the crowd, it was safe to say that the first hour of the party was a bust.

By the second hour you had gotten involved in a game of beer pong with Robin, Steve, Vickie and a few others.

At first you were kinda wary hanging out with Steve but you soon found out that he had changed so much from the King Steve of a few years ago.

He's kind, funny and kind, genuinely a good guy and him and Robin are like two peas in a pod. Platonic besties with a capital P she tells you and Vickie.

It's nice hanging out with them because everytime you see Jessie and Eddie together it needled at the ache in your heart.

Eddie joins in at one point but seems tense.

"Why are hanging out with Harrington?'' he hisses under his breath and you scowl.

"He's really nice" Eddie scoffs at this.

"Preppy, rich, douchebag? he's seen dating total babes every few weeks." you stiffen.

"Of course so why would he be seen with me right?" you ask heatedly and his eyes widen.

"That's not what I meant... You're beautiful sweetheart..." yeah but just a friend you finish his sentence in your head.

"Just forget it Eddie, go back to Jessie" you hurry away from him and curse yourself for getting so upset.

Steve notices and asks if you want to hang out in the pool.

It's quieter outside than in the house, people are just lazing around lightly buzzed, lost in their own conversations.

Steve makes you laugh by jumping in the pool fully clothed, he lets out a yell when he hits the water.

"Fuck, its freezing" and you swear you hear Robin calling him a dingus. The thought makes you smile.

"So Munson huh?" Steve asks gently and your smile vanishes.

"Mmm, tonight was my big plan to get over him. Didn't work out so well" There's a brief moment of silence that's broken when Steve takes you by surprise and you're suddenly in the pool beside him, soaking wet and torn between laughter and exasperation.

"Steve!" you huff out and his answering smile tugs at your heart. There's also something you didn't expect, a spark.

He moves closer to you and it's like the two of you are magnets. Steve strokes your cheek and his lips meet yours.

It's nice, it's really really nice and you moan softly as Steve gently tugs at your lower lip, deepens the kiss and pulls you even closer.

Steve pulls away and you both exchange a secret, shy smile at the moment you had.

You kiss him again and this time it's a little more hot and heavy. Only this time when you come apart, you're not alone.

Eddie has just come outside. He's staring at you and Steve, his expression blank but you notice something stirring deep in his eyes, a flash of emotion that you can't place.

Then it's gone and he storms back inside..

🖤

[crappymixtape]

come a little closer

REQUEST → dear nonny, SUMMER BLURB PARTY ❝ 💬 prompt 58, “do i make you nervous?” where steve and reader are more acquaintances and have mutual friends? – tina invites you to a party while her parents are out of town, but aren’t you too old for this shit? and then you run into steve and, god you wished you’d said no • +18 ( a little king!steve, a little spice, a little frenemies and a little fluff • steve harrington x reader )

C O M E A L I T T L E C L O S E R 🎶 waiting for a girl like you, foreigner

This was easily the stupidest decision you’d ever made, telling Tina you’d come to her party and then actually showing up. Because you were too old for this shit. Because you’d been out of high school for a few years now and who partied like this anymore?

You shot Eddie and Robin a glare as they stood next to you snickering under their breaths. They’d dragged you along with everyone else to crowd down in the basement and wait outside a closet door to see if Tommy and Carol would ever come out.

Seven minutes in Heaven. The most asinine game of all time, but everyone was eating it up. It’d been well over seven minutes and you were tired of hanging out with a bunch of old high school acquaintances.

“I’m leaving,” you hissed at Eddie and he grabbed at your hand with ringed fingers.

“No, not yet,” came out in a whine, looking down at you with big, brown, puppy dog eyes.

“There is no way in hell I’m going in that closet.”

Eddie grinned, smile lines creasing his cheeks. “C’mon, it’s not that bad.”

“Eds, you need glasses. Look at this,” you waved an arm around at the potential candidates you’d have the ‘pleasure’ of sharing a small, dark, linen closet with.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “The worst is already in there,” he teased, “’sides, Harrington’s here.”

Harrington.

“Don’t even think about it,” you muttered and he grinned even wider.

“What? He’s nice now. Saved my ass more than a few times,” Eddie protested and you rolled your eyes.

“Absolutely not.”

Steve Harrington and his stupid member’s only jacket and perfectly coiffed hair and million dollar smile, the one that could – apparently – bag any girl he wanted. It had boggled your mind when Robin told you she’d made a new friend, Steve Harrington, can you believe it?? No, you couldn’t. Since when did King Steve buddy up with band geeks? A few shifts at Scoops Ahoy and you were already playing second fiddle to some asshole jock.

Well, not today. You didn’t need this.

Shooting back the last of the whiskey sour in your cup you gave the handle of the door one last glance and shook your head – stupid – but when you moved to leave the crowd gave a whoop.

“Shit, Tommy!” “Carol, oh my god, how was it??” “Did you find heaven?” “Gross!”

Tommy emerged from the closet triumphant, pumping a fist in the air with Carol under his arm, cheeks flushed and a big grin on her face. Everyone was eating it up and the thought of having to go in there with someone, anyone, made your stomach flip over.

“Eds, I’m going–”

“No–Sweetheart, stay!” he begged, nudging Robin with his elbow, “Right, Robs?”

“Are you kidding? No, you can’t leave. This is just getting good! What, are you nervous or something? Oh my god, you are! What’re you nervous about? Is it cos Peter Townsend is here? He’s so not your type–”

“Robin,” you hissed, cheeks flushed as every pair of eyes in the room settled on you.

“Wha–oh,” Robin chuckled and pasted on a piss poor excuse for a smile.

“You can’t go now,” Carol purred from under Tommy’s arm, “You’re up next, hon.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This wasn’t happening.

“Sorry, I have to be up early tomorrow for work and–”

“It’s only seven minutes,” Tommy sneered, the grin on his mouth pulling up at the edges – a shark with blood in the water.

You couldn’t breathe, air sucked out of your lungs as your grasped at straws, trying to muster up another excuse. You desperately looked to Robin and Eddie for help, but they were too busy whispering and giggling at your expense and your cheeks burned.

“Fine,” you pushed, trying your best to sound unbothered, chin tipped up in defiance.

“That’s more like it,” Tommy said with a whoop, rubbing his hands together, “And while you were too busy arguing with tweedle dee and dum over there we all decided you’re in with Harrington.”

Your stomach lurched dangerously, queasy and full of dread.

“But, I thought you were supposed to spin–”

“Nah, we put it to a vote,” Carol cut you off picking at her nails, “Better not keep him waiting.”

Keep him waiting? Your eyes frantically searched the sea of faces staring at you, but Steve wasn’t among them. When your gaze finally settled on the closet you saw it was just barely cracked, a shadowy figure shifting in the inky black just beyond.

You thought you were going to be sick, but you weren’t about to be made into a wuss. Turning to Eddie you grabbed his beer and chugged it in one go, then finished off whatever was in Robin’s cup too, shit, easy sweetheart.

“You’re on the clock,” Tommy goaded as Carol took hold of your hand and tugged you toward the closet.

“Have fun,” she teased, voice sing-songy, shoving you through the door and shutting it behind you, plunging you into darkness.

❝ MAYBE I’M WRONG, WON’T YOU TELL ME IF I’M COMING ON TOO STRONG?

Your eyes strained against the black of the small room, your body all too aware of there being someone else in there with you. It made the air thick, too warm and too close and the booze swimming through your veins had you feeling on edge.

“Thought you were gonna stand me up.”

Steve’s voice broke the tension and you jumped at the sudden noise, pulse fluttering against your neck.

“You’re lucky I didn’t,” you cut back, trying to stick to your guns, but then he shifted a little closer, his breath warming over you cheek, and it melted whatever resolve you had left.

“Ouch,” he half-laughed, arm brushing yours as he rocked on his feet.

It was slow, but your eyes were adjusting, dense black shadows blurring into soft indigos and violets and Steve’s face swam into focus. Thick, dark lashes framing warm, hazel eyes, the strong slope of his jaw, moles chasing across his neck and cheeks and that dumb grin. The one he was giving you now.

"This is stupid,” you muttered and Steve laughed, tutting at you.

“You didn't have to come, you know,” he teased and you gifted him with a particularly bratty eye roll.

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” you snarked and it pulled the corners of his mouth up into a tiny grin.

“At the time, huh? Not anymore?”

You scoffed, shook your head and folded your arms over your chest, but the words wouldn't come. Stuck in your throat at the way you could feel the warmth of Steve's chest lingering just a few inches away, the scent of his cologne making you dizzy, hazy at the edges and all of a sudden unsure.

Shifting on his feet, Steve's toes bumped into yours as he put a hand on the wall next to your ear and leaned a little closer.

“Do I make you nervous?” he asked, his voice notched a little lower, closer, closer, closer, and it made something in your belly twist.

“Nervous?” you huffed a weak laugh, “Keep your pants on, Harrington. I don’t even know you.”

“D'you want to?” Your breath caught in your throat as he crowded over you and lifted a hand to tuck your flyaways behind your ear. “You can obviously do whatever you want, but–” his tongue flicked out to chase along his lower lip and heat pooled in your belly at the thought of what he might taste like, “–aren’t you a little curious?”

“Curious?” you breathed, voice barely above a whisper and he nodded softly.

“Yeah, what it would be like.”

You’d been in classes him with since grade school, watched as he won everyone over for popularity in middle school and shot to the top of the social pyramid in high school all while you lingered down at the bottom with Eddie and Robin and Jonathan, but you couldn’t deny it. Of course you’d looked at him just a little too long, eyes stuck on the way his Levi’s hugged in all the right places, heart racing when he smiled at you from down the hall.

“To kiss you?” you asked and he hummed, a low rumble in his chest.

“Only if you want to,” came out strained, a strangled sound as he pushed the words from his lips and you found yourself arching into him.

“I–” you started, lashes fluttering atop your cheeks, “–I want to.”

And Steve wanted it too, hadn’t realized just how down bad he was for you. You in those jeans. You and the way you seemed immune to his charms. You and your confidence and fire and disregard for everything ‘cool’ or ‘trendy.’

“You sure?” he asked again, body tensing as your hips bumped into his, jaw ticking as he bit down on the heat swelling his chest.

“Kiss me,” you whispered and he felt himself unravel at the way your voice edged on needy, a little desperate, a little bossy and God – you were hot.

His free hand moved to rest on your waist, fingers pressing into the plush of your hip, breaths falling heavy between you as he leaned down, down, down to capture your bottom lip between his and it was like a rubber band snapping.

Years worth of tension pulling and stretching and straining as you both played it all off like nothing. Like you didn’t care. The thought of you being with each other like this a joke, but the only people you were fooling was yourselves.

Steve tugged at your bottom lip and it pulled a sound from your throat that put him in the palm of your hand — soft, pliable, yours. He dropped his hand from the wall to grab at your other hip and you teetered a little off balance, grabbing at his shoulders to steady yourself.

Your arms looped around his neck too easy then, like they’d been doing it for years, like they’d mapped the curve of his neck and muscles pulled taut across his back a thousand times. Pressing your tongue to the seam of his lips he opened to you and you licked into him, tasted spearmint, cheap beer, Steve, and you wanted more.

He slotted a knee between your thighs and you gasped, a lovely pretty sound he wished he could keep forever, keening for him as he pressed your back into the wall. Parted your lips with a pop and dragged messy, open-mouthed kissed down your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder–

“Harrington, is your watch broken? Jesus it’s been like ten min–”

“Shit,” Steve stumbled away from you into the shelves full of towels as Tommy yarded the closet door open, the sight of you two dropping his mouth into a little ‘o’. Hair messed, foreheads dewy with sweat, lips kiss-bitten and a hicky sucked to your neck.

“My bad, did you need another seven?” Tommy grinned.

Head leaned back against the shelves, Steve squeezed his eyes shut, chin tipped up as he pushed a heavy sigh from his lungs and all too aware of the way the crotch of his jeans was way too tight.

“Yeah, maybe,” Steve hissed, hands tangled in his hair and it made you laugh. A soft, little thing without any heat behind it, cheeks flushed and pink.

“It’s all good, Hagan,” came out easy, confidence swelling where Steve’s had deflated, “We can finish it in the car.”

And God, Steve would’ve made a mess of his pants right then and there if you hadn’t pulled him from the closet and up the stairs out to your bronco with a bench seat more than wide enough to fit two people on top of it, more than confident you wouldn’t need another seven minutes.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Yes, Mr. Darcy

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

wc: 1784

cw: anxiety, swearing, fluff

a/n: been in such a Harrington Mood Lately.

“Y/N  Y/M/N  Y/L/N, for the love of god, we need to leave. Now.”

You were standing in front of her mirror, changing out your earrings for the third time. Nothing seemed to match quite right, but these seemed to do the trick. 

“You did not just use my full name, Buckley.”  

“You were supposed to be ready thirty minutes ago.”

“You and I both know that we’re actually leaving on time, and you tried to trick me so we could just get there earlier so you could get there to hang out with Steve.” 

Robin rolled her eyes and crossed her arms–silent though.

“And she doesn’t deny it.” 

“Oh fuck off.” 

She was just lounging on the couch, head hanging off the side, and one leg over the back. The sound of your heels alerted Robin that you were finally done. She looked up from her phone and her jaw dropped. 

“Shut. Up.”

“What do you think?” 

“I think you’re gonna kill Steve, babe.” 

You smiled. “Good.” 

“Now let’s get a move on because, again, we were supposed to be on our way by now.”

Robin hopped up from the couch and smoothed out her pants legs, trying to desperately combat the wrinkles she just creased in them. 

“You’re too tall in those shoes.” 

You gently shoved Robin's arm as you pulled on your overcoat. 

“Let's head out then?” 

___________________________________

“Steve, let’s get a move on.” 

Steve walked out of the kitchen and into the foyer, where his friends were pacing around, waiting for him. He was fiddling with the gold watch around his wrist–it just wasn't sitting right on his wrist. Why wasn’t the watch sitting in the right place? 

“Oh be still my beating heart.” Eddie clutches his heart and turns to face his best friend. “You look so handsome.” 

Dustin shoves Eddie and rolls his eyes. “We’ve been waiting forever.” 

He gave them a flash of a smile before adjusting the signet ring on his pinky finger, twisting it around and around and around and around and arou—

“Max, Lucas, Will, and Mike are there already, with Nance and Jonathan.” 

Steve huffed and fixed his hair.

Eddie reached forward and picked some lint off of his collar. 

“You seem nervous."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Oh do I?"

"Alright Jackass, ease up." Eddie crossed his arms. "There's nothing to worry about."

Dustin nodded in agreement vigorously. "There's quite literally no universe in which she says no Steve-"

“Alright. Alright." Steve waved the two of them off nervously. "Let’s go then.” 

___________________________________

“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you”

You whipped your head around, before smiling at the man behind you. “Did…Did you just use Jane Austen as a pickup line?”

“Would you be mad that I did?” 

“No, No, I quite….I enjoyed it”

Steve laughed to himself and took your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips and softly kissing it. 

Cheeks tinging red; this man still knew how to make you blush after four years of being together. 

“You are too much Steve Harrington, simply too much” 

“Too much in general, or too much for you Miss Y/l/n because–”

Your lips were on his before he could even comprehend the rest of his thought. 

“I didn’t even know you knew who Jane Austen was..” Slowly moving from his lips and up his cheek,, kissing the corner of his lips, you hummed. Steve inhaled, snaking an arm around your waist. 

“I listen to you, ya know…” he murmured, praying to whatever god was listening that he would be able to keep quiet. His eyes darted around, making sure that no one in the banquet hall was paying attention to the twenty-three-year-olds in the corner. 

Even though everyone was there as a potential surprise engagement party disguised as a holiday party. 

The massive Christmas Tree in the front of the room caught Steve’s eye. It was perfectly decorated, just like the rest of the room–nothing out of place. The perfectly placed white string lights reflected across the room, across their families. Their picturesque perfect families danced slowly across the dance floor.

Your lips kissed the spot beneath his ear, causing Steve to groan quietly, and squeeze your waist. 

“Babygirl….” Steve mumbled, “Not in front of the whole party. Behav–”

A smirk passed across your lips as you pulled away. “I’m so sorry handsome, it’s just that when you quote one of my favorite novels at me….” 

“Yeah, Yeah. let me fix your lipstick baby” Steve slowly dragged his thumb under your lip, effectively fixing the smudging on her lips, edging the line that you clearly want to shove him over.

“Want to dance with me, darling?”

You smiled and nodded, slotting your hand in his. 

He squeezed it tightly as he caught your friends looking over at the two of you, with expectant faces. Steve tried so hard to communicate “not yet” with his face without you noticing. 

That was not the case since you stopped short. 

“Babygirl, what’s up.” 

“What was that look?” 

“What?” 

“The look Eddie and Dustin just gave you.” 

He scoffed, his chest starting to tighten up. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. 

“You’re up to something.” 

His chest ache spread across his shoulders and down his arms. “No.”

You take a small step back and look over his face. 

Your face shifts from curiosity to concern as Steve’s eyes become panicked. 

Unfortunately for Steve, he completely misread the look on your face. 

It started small, with some erratic breathing. For some reason, he couldn’t breathe. Then, he couldn’t focus. The longer you looked at him, the heavier the little box in his right pants pocket got. 

Steve was freaking the fuck out. It was as clear as day to you, even in the dim lighting. He was sure you were trying to say something because your lips were moving and your other hand had moved up to his arm. 

But Steve couldn’t hear anything beyond his heartbeat.

“Steve, is everything okay? Do you want to go out and get some air?” You gently cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb up and down, trying to get a sense of what was going on. Steve rarely acted like this, and as your eyes flashed across his face, searching for an answer, you couldn’t find it.

His feet have not stopped shifting since you started looking at him.

“Steve?” 

He couldn’t take it. 

“Hey Steve, Baby–”

The string lights started to become too bright for him. 

“Steve.”

The world was spinning.

“Hey–”

Was everyone staring at him? Why was everyone looking at him? He needed to escape. He needed to get out of the suffocation. It was too much.

So when he shoved past you and tore out of the hall, you were beyond stunned. So were all of your friends and family who managed to notice the little scene in the corner.

But he didn’t notice because he couldn’t breathe and he needed air as soon as physically possible. 

“Is everything okay?” 

Your eyes flitted between where Steve exited and Robin walked towards you, still shocked. “I don’t…I don't know what happened Rob—I’ll be..” You started to follow him. “I have to..” 

“Did he..?”

“Did he do what?” You looked back at him. 

“Did he start…”

“Panicking for no reason? Yeah.”

Robin just nodded her head as you placed a hand on her arm and muttered something about Steve, following out after him. You missed the way all of your friends started catastrophizing. 

Snowflakes dusted his hair as Steve stepped into the parking lot. His footprints left a cartoonish path as he created a circle in the new snow on the ground, pacing around. The little box in his pocket was getting heavier and heavier until he couldn’t bear it anymore. 

Steve pulled it out, and stared at it; his hand wouldn’t stop shaking. Why wouldn’t they just stop shaking? 

“I thought we agreed on you quitting?” 

The box fell to the ground as he jumped. “Jesus– you can’t just sneak up on me like that.” 

“Yeah, well you kind of just….you know, ran off.” 

“Shi–Babe, I’m so sorry. I’m just. I needed some–uh, air”

“Yeah Steve, I know. You started hyperventilating.” 

Steve nodded but didn’t say anything else.

You slowly started walking towards him, stopping right before the cover of the building ended. She was right in front of him, he could feel her body’s warmth. Steve just studied her face, watching as she watched him. 

“I love you, you know that…”

A nervous laugh passed through your lips. 

“B-But you know right?” 

“Steve….”

“I promise I’m…”

“You’re not smoking?”

“Yeah...” A dry chuckle came out of his mouth. “Have a little faith in me, god.”

“Steve I–You just froze up and ran out of there–It looked like—”

“I know what it looked like.” He snapped. 

“Tone.” 

Steve huffed and ran his hands through his hair, making it more of a mess than it had been. “I’m sorry.” 

“Steve, what is going on?” 

“This is not how I wanted this to go?”

“What are you tal–”

Steve bent down on one knee and pulled the box out of the snowbank right next to his foot, trying to dust off the snow on it. It was a deep red velvet, and on the inside was a beautiful silver band–simple, with three distinguished, yet tastefully small gemstones encrusted in it.

“Y/n–”

“Yes.”

“Y/n, please–” He laughed nervously, “P-Please let me get through…I’ve been, um–”

“–Yes—Shit, sorry. Sorry.”

She placed her hands over her mouth, using every muscle in her body to restrain from interrupting Steve. It wasn’t working very well since she was nodding the whole time. 

“Y/n, I–we, we have known each other f-for so long, an-and I—fuck. Why can’t I get through this?” 

Y/n grabbed his hands and pulled him up off the ground, tears waiting to burst. 

“Steve…”

“No, I–fuck I had this whole fucking speech and I-I can’t even–” He started pacing again, ring box in his hand. “I’m ruining it. I’m ruining your proposal and I just–” 

“Steve Harrington, will you do me the absolute honor of being my husband.” 

Steve froze. 

“W-What” 

And he slowly turned to look at her. 

Y/n had taken out a small box from inside the pocket of her dress. She was holding it in her palm, open. It was a soft green velvet box with a simple silver band, engraved with a barely noticeable design on the top–it matched her ring perfectly. 

His lips crashed to hers, ring boxes precariously held in one another’s hands.

“You stole my moment.” He muttered against her lips, before pulling away. 

[natashasfilms]

You’re Losing Me

Summary: Dating a colleague has always been an exhilarating experience. However, as you reach a point where you’re ready to take the relationship further after spending years together, doubts start to creep in. You begin questioning whether you’re the only one putting effort into saving something that seems to be slowly fading away.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Fem!Reader

Warnings: taylor swift’s song “you’re losing me”, angst, fluff, coworker relationship, language, drowning, stabs, injuries, usual criminal minds stuff, use of y/n, lovers to exes to lovers again, not really unrequited love, insecurity, making out, happy ending

Word Count: 7,938 (the longest one shot i’ve written so far…)

Note: It’s been so so so long since I’ve posted anything on here, so enjoy a little Aaron Hotchner one shot! I’m think of writing an Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds series, similar to my Steve Harrington/Stranger Things series, but it may take me a while to finish writing the entire thing. Maybe I’ll write a few chapters and then upload those and write along as I go but I don’t want to do that in case I lose motivation throughout the midst of it. We’ll see what happens! It’s just that I’m super busy but I have such great ideas for this series!

Criminal Minds Masterlist

As the sunlight slowly filtered through the windows, you began to awake from your slumber. Opening your eyes, you gazed at the ceiling and felt the comforting embrace of a pair of arms around your waist. Turning your head, you smiled at the man sleeping beside you and planted a gentle kiss on the top of his head. After disentangling yourself from his arms, you got out of bed.

Quickly, you took a shower, brushed your teeth, and dressed for the day. Upon leaving the bathroom, you found your boyfriend, Aaron, sitting at the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. “Morning, Aaron.” You greeted him.

He looked up with a grin, standing up to meet you. “Morning.” He responded, giving you a kiss on the cheek before heading to the bathroom himself.

You then entered Jack’s room to wake him up and get him ready for school. Seeing him still asleep, you approached with a gentle touch, waking him with a soft rub on his head. “Jack, sweetie, it’s time to wake up.”

Jack groaned, still half-asleep. “Five more minutes.”

You chuckled, playfully poking his cheek. “Come on, buddy. You’ll be late for school.” Eventually, Jack sat up in bed, and you left his room with a cheeky smile.

Preparing breakfast for your two boys, you heard footsteps down the hall. Setting the plates on the table, you watched as Jack settled into his seat. “Thank you, Y/N! This looks good!”

Nodding, you gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before you and Aaron sat down at the table. He reached out to hold your hand as a gesture of thanks, which made your heart flutter with affection.

After bidding Jack farewell and dropping him off at school, you and Aaron began your drive to work. Upon arriving, you entered the office first, as your relationship with Aaron was not public knowledge except to Strauss. You both agreed to keep it quiet to avoid potential workplace issues, though you wouldn’t mind being open about it if the opportunity arose. You weren’t entirely sure how Aaron felt about that.

Sitting at your desk, you watched Aaron make his way upstairs to his office, trying not to draw any unnecessary attention. Your colleagues, Emily, Derek, Elle, Spencer, and JJ, were already at their desks, engaged in friendly chatter while working on their paperwork. You joined in, laughing at Emily and Derek’s playful banter.

At times, you felt the urge to spend more time with Aaron in his office, but you respected his decision to keep your relationship private. However, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were the only one who truly cared about the relationship. Four years together, and you were eagerly awaiting for him to pop the question. But that seemed to be indefinitely postponed. It sometimes felt like you were the only one putting effort into the relationship.

Fortunately, the entire day turned out to be pleasantly light. With no new cases, the office was buzzing with paperwork and fueled by several cups of coffee. Every so often, Penelope would come over to chat with all of you, as she often felt lonely in her own office. Her presence brought joy, and you always welcomed her with a warm smile, her infectious happiness lifting your spirits.

As the day drew to a close, the office was nearly empty, with only you, Aaron, and Elle remaining on the current floor. Elle grabbed her bag, ready to head out.

“See you tomorrow, Elle.” You called out, waving.

Elle smiled back at you. “You’re leaving right now, right?”

You nodded, turning to your desk to organize your files. “Yep, just need to gather these files and hand them over to Hotch.”

Her eyes shifted to the man in question, who was still seated at his desk in his office. “Does he ever sleep?” Elle asked, furrowing her brows.

Chuckling, you stood up. “I’d like to say yes, but he’s practically a robot.”

Elle hummed, and her gaze returned to you. “Do you want me to wait for you?” She offered.

You widened your eyes slightly, quickly clearing your throat. “Oh, no, you go ahead. I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

“It’s not a problem, honestly.” Elle reassured you, but you waved your hand dismissively.

“No, really. You can go on ahead. I have to ask Hotch a few questions about the paperwork, anyway.”

You noticed a subtle shift in Elle’s eyes, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. “Right. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” She said, bidding you goodbye before making her way to the glass doors and stepping into the elevator.

Feeling a sense of relief, you let out a sigh, almost convinced that Elle had caught on to your and Aaron’s relationship. Shaking your head to dismiss such thoughts, you collected all the files and made your way up to his office, lightly knocking on the door. Aaron’s voice invited you in, prompting you to enter.

As he looked up from his work, his stern expression softened into one of happiness at the sight of you. You couldn’t help but grin, placing the files on his desk. “It’s late, we should get going.”

Furrowing his brows, Aaron checked the time, and his eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, I didn’t even realize how late it got.” He admitted, quickly gathering the files and organizing everything for the next day.

Both of you exited the building and walked to your car. Settling inside, you watched Aaron start the engine and drive off, your mind preoccupied with thoughts. You were contemplating whether to broach the topic of taking your relationship to the next level or even considering making it public. Although you should have felt at ease discussing it with Aaron, anxiety gripped your heart, causing it to beat rapidly.

Despite knowing Aaron to be the most kind-hearted man you’ve known for years, you couldn’t help but fear his response. You didn’t want this conversation to become a make-or-break moment for your relationship, yet you also couldn’t bear to keep hiding in the shadows any longer.

Arriving at your shared apartment, you both entered, setting your bags down by the door and turning on the lights. With Jack spending the night at Jessica’s, you and Aaron found yourselves alone, creating an opportunity for you to bring up a potentially important conversation.

Deciding to allow yourselves a moment to freshen up and have dinner before broaching the important topic, you wanted to ensure neither of you went to bed hungry in case the conversation didn't go smoothly.

After showering, having dinner, and relaxing, you finally felt ready to initiate the conversation. Throughout the evening, you sensed Aaron’s eyes on you, and it was time for him to ask what was bothering you.

“You’ve been tense all night.” Aaron observed, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder as you both sat on the couch. “Is something wrong?”

Your mind raced through different approaches to the problem, but you still didn’t feel fully prepared as you began to respond to his question. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

He arched an eyebrow, pulling you closer by wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Care to share?”

With a tight-lipped smile, you took a deep breath, attempting to calm your nerves. “Have you ever considered...making our relationship public?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Aaron’s arms dropped from your shoulder. Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach, dreading his response.

“Aaron?” You anxiously waited for his answer, but he fell silent, trying to find the right words to respond to you. “Can you please say something?”

Aaron’s face tightened with hesitation as he tried to find the right words to respond to your question. He glanced away, unable to meet your eyes directly, and sighed heavily. “I...I haven’t really thought about going public.” He finally admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “Our relationship has always been private, and it’s been working for us. I’m afraid of how things might change if we make it public.”

Your heart sank, sensing the reluctance in his response. “But Aaron, we’ve been together for so long, and I’m tired of just hiding our relationship. I want to be with you openly, without constantly worrying about keeping it a secret.” You pleaded, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I know that.” Aaron said, his voice softening. “But we both know how the nature of our work is. If our relationship becomes public, it could jeopardize everything we’ve built here. I can’t risk that, especially for Jack’s sake.”

Frustration and sadness engulfed you, and you felt a surge of emotions welling up inside. “So, you’re choosing your job and keeping up appearances over us? Over me?” You exclaimed, your voice quivering with hurt.

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just not that simple.” Aaron replied, reaching out to touch your arm, but you pulled away.

“Then enlighten me, Aaron. What do you mean? Because maybe it’s not simple for you, but it is for me.” You said firmly, your heart breaking. “I can’t keep living like this. I deserve better than this, Aaron.”

He looked torn, his eyes reflecting his own pain. “I don’t want to lose you.” He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“But you’re not willing to fight for us.” You responded, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Tell me, Aaron. Did you even plan on marrying me?”

His silence spoke louder than words, and it was all you needed to get your answer. The truth hung heavily in the air, and your heart shattered in less than two minutes, your fears coming true. The pain of realization washed over you, leaving you feeling raw and vulnerable.

You desperately wanted things to go back to how they were, to find comfort in the familiarity of your relationship. But deep down, you knew that settling for someone who didn’t put effort into the relationship wasn’t right for you. You deserved someone who cherished and valued you, someone who saw a future with you and was willing to fight for it.

“Looks like you’ve already lost me.” You said, your voice cracking with emotion. You hastily wiped away your tears, determined not to break down completely. Standing up from your spot on the couch, you avoided Aaron’s gaze as you walked away, trying to maintain some composure. “I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight.”

The realization that the love of your life might not have felt the same way about you as you thought shattered your heart into pieces. You couldn’t bear to stay in a relationship that made you feel worthless.

What made it even more painful was that Aaron had always been the kindest man you had ever known. He had made you feel loved, supported, and cared for, especially during your lowest moments. However, now, you couldn’t help but question everything.

“Dad?” Jack spoke, catching his father’s attention as he helped put his backpack on. “When is Y/N coming back?”

It had been a week since you and Aaron broke up, and the impact of the decision weighed heavily on both of you. In the aftermath, you moved out of Aaron’s apartment, leaving behind the memories of a once loving relationship. Aaron struggled with the reality that you weren’t living with him anymore. He had tried to apologize and convince you to reconsider, but you remained firm in your decision. You believed that taking some time and space apart was essential for both of you to figure out what you truly wanted.

“I’m not sure, buddy.” Aaron replied to Jack with a gentle smile, masking the turmoil within his heart. “Y/N needed some time to think about things, and we both agreed it was best to take some space for now.”

Jack frowned, sensing that something significant had changed. He missed having you around, and it was hard for him to understand the complexities of adult relationships. But he trusted his father and hoped that things would work out for the best.

Despite your desire for space, maintaining it was extremely challenging when you had to work together. Nevertheless, you were grateful that the rest of the team didn’t seem to notice any change in your demeanor towards each other. You made a concerted effort to act as you always did while on the job, which wasn’t too difficult, considering you had always portrayed your relationship as strictly professional, pretending to know each other only as coworkers.

Aaron despised himself for not being open and honest with you that night, for jeopardizing the relationship you had built over the years. He loved you deeply, and the thought of marrying you had crossed his mind countless times. However, fear had gripped his heart. The pain of losing Haley had left him hesitant about committing to another relationship, and he believed he could never truly move on. Yet, you had always supported him throughout that challenging time. Your constant presence by his side, understanding, and care had gradually allowed him to let go of his fears. Before he knew it, he had become deeply attached to you, and his love for you had grown immeasurably.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed of you that he didn’t want anyone to know about your relationship. Instead, Aaron feared that making it public might endanger you, given the high-stakes nature of their work and the potential risks involved. He wanted to protect you from any repercussions that might arise if their personal relationship were exposed in the often dangerous and unpredictable world they worked in. Although it pained him to keep your love hidden, he believed it was a necessary precaution to keep you safe. After Haley, he didn’t want to make the same mistake again.

Now, he felt utterly foolish. Regret washed over him as he realized he should have communicated with you more openly, explaining why he felt the way he did instead of leaving you to question his love. The pain of knowing that you thought he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, that you believed he was ashamed of you, weighed heavily on his heart.

He wished he could turn back time and find the courage to share his fears and concerns with you, to let you know just how much he loves and values you. The thought of causing you any hurt had never been his intention, but he had failed in expressing himself clearly.

The team sat aboard the private jet, en route to your destination for a new case that demanded your immediate attention. Three homicides, spread across different cities, all linked by a hauntingly similar MO. The victims shared connections that hinted at a calculated pattern, but local law enforcement had hit a dead end, prompting the call for FBI assistance.

Aaron and you purposefully chose seats away from each other, not wanting to add any awkwardness to the already tense situation. As the team delved further into the case, everyone meticulously examined the evidence within the case files.

You scanned through the disturbing details, striving not to let any grimace betray your inner emotions. Over the years, you had grown accustomed to such gruesome cases that it took an emotional toll on even the most seasoned profilers. Yet, you knew that suppressing your emotions was essential to focus on the task at hand.

“Morgan, Prentiss, and Elle, I want you three to check the latest victim’s crime scene and look for anything new. Reid, JJ, and L/N, I need you to head to the coroner’s office and examine the autopsy reports.” Aaron said, making brief eye contact with you for a second before turning his attention back to the team. “Rossi and I will head to the precinct to talk to the local PD and settle in.”

As soon as the jet landed, you, JJ, and Spencer swiftly made your way to one of the BAU SUVs and drove to the coroner’s office to examine the bodies. You were driving the car, while JJ was in the passenger seat, and Spencer was sitting in the back. You conversed with the other two throughout the entire drive, Spencer spitting his genius facts every now and then.

Once you made it inside, the three of you were greeted by the coroner, who led you to the room where the bodies were laid out. Carefully examining the wounds on the victims, you couldn’t help but notice something intriguing. “They’ve all been stabbed exactly twenty times, each stab in a different part of the body.” You stated, glancing at JJ and Spencer for their input. “This was rage.”

Spencer leaned in, his eyes narrowing with concentration. “The repetitive nature of the stab wounds indicates an intense emotional release, possibly stemming from deep-seated anger or frustration.”

JJ nodded in agreement, her empathy guiding her understanding of the crime scene. “Maybe the unsub had a personal vendetta against the victims, and he was trying to send a message with the way he’s stabbed them.”

Spencer couldn’t help but share one of his characteristic and oddly fascinating facts. “Did you know that throughout history, the number twenty has often been associated with completeness and cycles? It’s interesting that the unsub chose this specific number.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, contemplating the possibility. “Or maybe the number twenty was important to him? It could hold some significance to the unsub, and he chose it to exert control or leave a twisted signature on the victims.”

JJ nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the shared curiosity. “It’s definitely not uncommon for unsubs to attach meaning to their actions or rituals. The number twenty might be a representation of something personal or symbolic to him.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up, adding on to you and JJ. “Numerology has been linked to criminal behavior in certain cases. The choice of numbers might reflect the unsub’s belief in its power or its alignment with his twisted motives.”

As you carefully examined the stab wounds on the victims’ lifeless bodies, a particular detail caught your attention. There was an absence of significant bleeding around the wound sites. The wounds appeared uniform in depth and angle, lacking the telltale signs of hemorrhage typically associated with antemortem stabbings.

You turned to the coroner with a furrowed brow. “These stab wounds...they seem different from typical antemortem injuries. Is there any indication that the victims might have been submerged in water before the stabbing?”

The coroner paused, considering your observation. “Well, we did find traces of water in the airways and lungs of all the victims during the autopsies.” The coroner replied. “It’s possible they were drowned before the stabbings occurred.”

“He’s drowning them and then stabbing them?” JJ questioned, her arms crossed against her chest. “What about signs of sexual assault?”

The coroner shook her head. “There were no signs of sexual assault in the report.”

Spencer chimed in, his gaze intense. “It’s possible that this unsub’s violent ritual provides him with a sense of release. The act of drowning the victims may serve as a form of control or domination, followed by the symbolic significance of twenty stabs, and perhaps linked to a personal obsession or fixation.”

You added to Spencer’s insight. “The number twenty might hold significant meaning to him, reinforcing the notion that these killings are deeply personal and methodically planned.”

JJ looked troubled, contemplating the unsettling pattern before you. “If he’s targeting the victims like this, he might have a connection to them. Something in their past could be triggering this cycle of violence.”

You nodded your head, your gaze remaining fixated on the lifeless forms. “Let’s head back and meet with the others.”

The three of you met up with the rest of the team at the precinct, where you all gathered around the crime board, sharing your findings and insights from the investigations. As each detail was added to the board, the case started to take shape, revealing disturbing connections and patterns.

Throughout the meeting, you couldn’t help but sense Aaron’s occasional glances in your direction. Part of you hoped he would approach you and start a conversation, maybe even attempt to mend what was broken between you both. Yet, another part of you felt a tinge of relief that he hadn’t approached you, as facing him would only reopen the wounds that were still raw.

It had only been a week since the painful breakup, and you found yourself torn between wanting to be understood and yearning for his apologies, and the need to protect yourself from further heartache. The longing for him to realize his mistakes, coupled with the desire to put the pieces of your life back together, weighed heavily on your emotions.

You also couldn’t help but miss Jack dearly. Saying goodbye to him before you left had been one of the hardest moments, knowing that he couldn’t fully comprehend the reasons behind your departure. The memories of the mornings you spent with him, preparing breakfast and engaging in playful moments, tugged at your heartstrings. You had cherished those moments, but you knew that staying in an emotionally draining situation wouldn’t be fair to either of you.

At the end of the day, exhaustion weighed heavily on the entire team, the toll of the stressful investigation demanding a much-needed rest. However, they were confident in the amount of evidence gathered, giving them a solid foundation to construct a profile when they regrouped.

Reaching the hotel, the team bid each other farewell, knowing they’d reconvene in the morning to continue the investigation. You let out a weary sigh as you entered your room, eager to collapse onto your bed. Shutting the door behind you, you finally allowed yourself a moment of peace. Without delay, you made your way to the bathroom, seeking to refresh yourself after the intense day.

Emerging from the shower, you felt more relaxed. After brushing your teeth, you slipped into comfortable sleepwear, embracing the coziness that enveloped you.

As you were about to settle into your bed, there was a knock on your door. Confusion washed over you, wondering who could be visiting at this hour. Walking cautiously to the door, you peered through the peephole and let out a soft sigh upon recognizing Aaron’s familiar face.

You opened the door, raising an eyebrow, giving him the signal to speak. His nervous demeanor was uncharacteristic of the stoic Aaron Hotchner, who rarely showed any signs of anxiety.

“Can I come in?” He asked, and a part of you wanted to roll your eyes at his request, but you held back your emotions. Suppressing a disgruntled noise, you opened the door wider, allowing him to enter your room.

Aaron wasted no time, quickly stepping inside as if he feared you might change your mind and shut the door on him. His uneasiness was palpable, and you couldn’t help but wonder what had driven him to seek you out in this vulnerable state.

With the door closed, you faced him, waiting for an explanation as to why he had come to your room at this late hour. “How are you?” He questioned, and you almost scoffed.

“What do you need?” You asked instead, completely ignoring his question.

His heart twinged with pain when he heard your voice, sensing the coldness in your tone, a reflection of the hurt he had caused. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage, determined to make things right. “I wanted to apologize for everything. I hated how things ended between us, and if I could turn back time, I would do so in a heartbeat just so I wouldn’t be the one who broke your heart.”

Your arms were crossed protectively over your chest, and he could see the struggle behind your eyes as you fought back tears. The mere week of separation had been agonizing, making him yearn for your presence more than ever. He longed to hold you in his arms again, to kiss you like they had for the past four years. But he understood that he couldn’t expect you to forgive him so easily.

“Jack misses you.” He continued, his voice laced with regret. “He asks for you every day, wondering if you’ll come back. It breaks my heart each time he does.” Your heart ached for the little boy, whom you had grown to cherish as your own. “And I miss you too, more than I can put into words. I’m willing to do anything and everything to fix things.”

Your gaze locked with his, and he saw the emotions swirling within you. “Aaron, I don’t know.” You began, and he felt his heart drop, fearing your answer. “How do I know you won’t do the same thing again? You’re only saying this because you realized what you had after you lost me.”

He shook his head, almost reaching for your hands but stopping himself, respecting the space you needed. “No, that’s not true. I’ve always loved you, Y/N. Yes, I was an absolute idiot, but I’m not just saying this because I realized what I had after I lost you. You mean the world to me, and I love you. If you just let me show you that I won’t make the same mistake ever again. I want everyone to know you’re mine, and it was never my intention to hide you away. I love you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.” His voice was filled with sincerity, pleading for another chance to prove his love and commitment to you.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to think of what to say. “Aaron, I think I need some time.” You said, truthfully. “I just need some space to figure out what I truly want. Throughout all these years, I’ve longed for you to prioritize us, but it never happened. Maybe I was too naive to believe it ever would.” Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, avoiding the pained look on his face. “I love you, too, but I can’t ignore the fact that I wanted you to put me first, instead of this job, and to consider a future together. I wanted to get married, but I don’t think you felt the same.”

He was about to say something, but you held up a finger, needing to continue.

“Honestly, I probably wouldn’t marry myself either.” You confessed softly. “I’ve spent so much time trying to please everyone, especially you. It’s been exhausting, trying to be the perfect girlfriend or even a future wife, when it felt like I was the only one making an effort. I sent you countless signals, hoping you’d notice, but it seemed like you didn’t want to acknowledge the cracks in our relationship.”

You let out a deep breath, relieved to have finally expressed your thoughts that had been brewing for months. Opening your eyes, you looked at Aaron, and his broken appearance tugged at your heartstrings. You longed to turn his frown into a smile, to fix everything, but you knew it wasn’t that simple.

“You’re wrong.” He finally spoke, his voice cracking with emotion. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, listening intently. “Of course I wanted to marry you.” He continued, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “But I was just too scared.”

“Scared of what?” You asked softly, urging him to open up.

“Of losing you, though it seems like I already did.” He said, a sad chuckle escaping his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. “After Haley, I never thought I would be capable of falling in love again. I had built walls around my heart, convinced it was safer that way. But then you were always there for me and I let myself fall for you, and it scared me.” He paused, gathering his thoughts, and continued. “I couldn’t bear the thought of putting you in danger because of this job, just like I did with Haley and Jack. I blamed myself for her death, and I didn’t want history to repeat itself. That’s why I kept our relationship hidden. I was afraid it would expose you to unnecessary risks.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt confession. “Aaron.” You said, your voice filled with empathy. “You didn’t have to carry all that burden alone. We could have faced it together.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with remorse. “I know, and I should have trusted us more. But my fear consumed me, and I made a terrible mistake by pushing you away.”

You walked closer and reached out to gently touch his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. “I understand why you did what you did, but it hurt to be kept in the dark. We could have faced those fears together as a team, just like we always do in these cases.”

“I know, and I wish I had the strength to open up to you sooner.” He whispered, leaning into your touch. “I’m so sorry.”

You leaned your forehead against his, savoring the closeness between you. Bringing your free hand to touch his other cheek, you felt his arms wrap around your waist, drawing you even closer to him. “This could have gone so differently if you had opened up to me, Aaron.” You whispered, looking into his eyes with sincerity. “But I still think we need some time apart. Just for a little bit.”

He closed his eyes, absorbing your words, and then nodded his head. “I know, and if that’s what you want, then I won’t oppose it.”

“Okay.” You whispered back, feeling a mix of sadness and hope in your heart. He stepped back, giving you a soft smile, before he turned to walk towards the door. “Wait.” You called out, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around, and without hesitation, you gently cupped his face in your hands and leaned up to kiss him on the lips. It was a tender, lingering kiss, full of unspoken emotions. He held onto your hands, cherishing the brief moments of the kiss, until you finally let go. “Goodnight.” You murmured, your voice tinged with both affection and uncertainty.

He looked dazed, as if he were in some sort of dream, processing the intensity of the moment. He tried his best to speak, finally managing a quiet “Goodnight” before he turned and left your room.

The next day, the team gathered at the precinct, ready to delve into the evidence with fresh eyes after sleeping. However, it was a restless night for both you and Aaron. Sleep seemed elusive as you tossed and turned, your mind consumed with thoughts of everything Aaron had said. Meanwhile, Aaron found himself replaying the kiss you shared before he left, and he couldn’t shake the weight of your words and emotions regarding your relationship and his actions.

After a few hours of relentless effort, Penelope’s expertise paid off, and she managed to uncover a name and address for the unsub. Putting on your bulletproof vests, the team raced to the SUVs, determined to catch the dangerous individual before he could harm anyone else.

Arriving at the address, you were met with an empty house. The unsub was nowhere to be seen, so you scanned the surroundings for any possible clues. Aaron spoke up, his voice firm. “We need to find any leads, any hints on where he might keep his victims.”

The team split up, meticulously combing through the scene, searching for any shred of evidence that could provide a much-needed breakthrough. The tension was palpable, knowing that every moment counted in preventing further tragedy.

As you examined the area, some of the photos on the wall caught your eye. The pictures consisted of different landscapes, however, when you looked more closely, the pictures seemed to be connected despite it being in separate frames. You called the team over and examined the photos, sending them over to Penelope to help find the location.

Penelope’s voice came through on the comms, her excitement evident. “Guys, I think I’ve found something. The pictures seem to be at a park near the house! I’m sending you the address now!”

As soon as you got the address, you raced out of the house and back into the waiting SUVs, speeding towards the destination. Upon arriving at the location, you split into groups. You, Elle, and Emily formed a team, eyes fixed on the abandoned warehouse nearby. Silently, you pointed towards the building, an unspoken agreement passing between you. You slowly and quietly walked, guns at the ready as you approached the structure.

You skillfully maneuvered around the back, while Elle and Emily advanced with their guns and flashlight inside, searching the shadows for any traces of the unsub. As you searched the back and began to think it was clear, you suddenly felt a forceful grip clamp over your mouth, muffling any sound you might have made. Before you could react, a sharp impact hit your head, sending you reeling into temporary darkness.

As you gradually regained consciousness, your surroundings came into focus, and panic washed over you at the sight of the unsub standing before you. Fear pulsed through your veins as you realized you were weaponless and vulnerable. His sinister laughter sent shivers down your spine, and you knew you had to act fast.

His sadistic grin filled you with dread as he taunted you, relishing the power he held over you. Every instinct urged you to escape, but he had already restrained you with a cruel grip, leaving you little room to maneuver. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you desperately scanned your surroundings for any possible means of escape.

As terror surged through your veins, you realized you were next to a lake. The sight of its dark waters filled you with dread, as you knew the unsub intended to use it against you. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you drew upon every ounce of strength you possessed, mustering a deafening scream in hopes that your team would hear you.

But the unsub was swift as well. Before you could make a move, he forcefully plunged you into the icy water. The coldness was shocking, stealing your breath away as he held you submerged. Panic surged through you as you fought against his unyielding grasp, struggling to resurface for air.

Despite your efforts, he held you down, with no chance of escape. Each time you managed to rise, gasping for breath, he mercilessly forced you back into the depths, determined to drown you just like all the other victims.

As darkness threatened to consume you, your mind raced with thoughts of your team. You wondered if they were close, if they could hear your cries for help, and if they would find you in time. You didn’t even know if they were nearby or if the unsub took you to a different location while you were knocked out. The uncertainty only deepened your desperation, as you clung to the hope that rescue was on its way.

As you struggled to hold on, your strength waned, and you found yourself slipping away, succumbing to the relentless pressure of the unsub’s grip. Helplessly, you surrendered to the suffocating darkness that surrounded you. That’s when a sudden, deafening gunshot pierced the air, tearing through the silence.

In the blink of an eye, the unsub’s hold on you loosened, and you were released from his grasp. He tumbled into the water, gone with a well-aimed bullet through his head. Aaron dropped his gun and leaped into the water without hesitation, desperately reaching for your lifeless form before it could go any deeper.

Emerging from the water’s grasp, Aaron clutched you tightly in his arms as the rest of the team rushed to assist. His heart raced with panic, his mind consumed by the fear of losing you. You were unresponsive, your eyes closed, and the once rhythmic rise and fall of your chest had ceased. Time seemed to stand still as he began chest compressions and performed CPR, his every action fueled by a desperation to revive you.

He had tears streaming down his face and his voice trembled with emotion as he begged you to fight, to come back to him. He refused to accept that this could be the end, that he might lose the person he loved with his entire heart once again. The rest of the team looked on, their hearts heavy with concern, but also filled with hope as they witnessed Aaron’s efforts to bring you back.

Derek kneeled beside Aaron, gripping his shoulders with urgency as he tried to intervene. “Hotch! Stop! Let someone else take over!” He yelled, attempting to divert his attention.

But Aaron was relentless, his focus solely on you. He brushed Derek’s hands aside, determination etched across his face. “I won’t stop until she’s awake.” He declared, resuming his life-saving efforts without a second thought. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he continued to administer CPR.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you coughed and sputtered, water escaping from your lungs. Gasping for air, you struggled to find your breath. Aaron’s arms enveloped you in a tight embrace, holding you close as you fought to regain your composure.

“Oh, thank God.” Emily breathed, her hand pressed against her chest, relief washing over her after the initial fear.

Aaron released his hold on you, and Derek immediately enveloped you in a tight embrace. “Babygirl, you scared all of us.” He murmured, still feeling shaken by the close call. Elle, not one to be left out, quickly shoved Derek away and hugged you with genuine concern.

“We should’ve never let you go out there by yourself.” Elle expressed, feeling guilty that they had split up. “I’m so sorry.”

Emily, kneeling beside you, placed a reassuring hand on your back. “We should’ve gone together.”

You shook your head, offering a small smile to your caring teammates. “Stop blaming yourselves. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known what would happen. At least I’m okay now.”

“Yeah, but you were dead for a few minutes.” Emily retorted with a scoff, still grappling with the shock of the situation.

You understood their concern, but you also knew that in their line of work, these moments were unfortunately part of the job. You reassured them. “I’m alright now, thanks to all of you.” And Aaron. You thought. You locked eyes with him, offering a reassuring smile. Though he didn’t return the smile, the glint in his eyes spoke volumes, telling you how grateful he was that you were still alive.

The EMT’s thoroughly checked you over, ensuring there were no other injuries, and concluded that you were fine. You sat at the back of the ambulance, swinging your legs back and forth, absently touching the bandage on your forehead where the unsub had hit you.

As you looked around, you saw the scene filled with law enforcement personnel. The unsub’s lifeless body was being carried away on a gurney, wrapped in a white sheet. A mix of relief and anger washed over you. Relief that he could no longer harm anyone else, and anger that he had taken the easy way out, escaping true justice.

Turning to your right, you noticed Aaron glancing back at you from time to time. Summoning some courage, you raised a hand and waved at him. This time, he smiled. A small yet genuine gesture that warmed your heart. Derek, ever the observant one, caught the interaction and couldn’t help but smirk. Playfully, he nudged Aaron on the shoulder, urging him to talk to you. Aaron, true to his stoic self, gave Derek a brief glare, which only made Derek raise his hands in surrender, laughing as he watched his boss walk away.

Aaron’s voice softened as he spoke, genuine concern in his eyes. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

You smiled, appreciating his caring nature. “I’m fine, Aaron.” Patting the spot next to you, you invited him to sit, and he obliged. Turning to face him, you brought your legs up to your chest. “Thank you for saving me.”

He shook his head, gazing up at the sky. “Don’t thank me. I’m just grateful that you’re alive.” His eyes met yours, and you could see the tears welling up. “I should’ve been there to protect you. I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself.”

You reached out to touch his cheek, trying to console him. “It’s not your fault, Aaron. I made the choice to check the back alone while Elle and Emily went inside. The blame lies solely on the unsub. Please, don’t carry that burden on yourself.” As he attempted to hold your hand, you pulled away slightly, causing his heart to ache. You were aware of your team’s eyes on you and didn’t want to fuel any rumors.

“Sorry, they might see us.” You explained.

He scoffed, refusing to let go of your hands. “I don’t care if they see us. It would be a miracle if they didn’t suspect anything. I was going insane while trying to save your life.”

“Aaron–”

“I want everyone to know about us. I don’t care anymore. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe, but I will not let you go. You mean everything to me, and I’m sorry for everything.” His voice trembled with emotion. “Seeing you out there, not breathing, holding your lifeless body in my arms...I swear I didn’t know what I was going to do if you were gone. I love you, Y/N. And I will love you until the day I die.”

At his heartfelt words, you couldn’t contain yourself any longer. You pressed your lips firmly against his, cupping his face with your hands. He held onto your hands, responding with passion and intensity. The week had been long and stressful, but with Aaron finally admitting he didn’t care who saw you together, you embraced the moment, cherishing the love you shared with the man you couldn’t imagine living without.

You pulled away slightly, looking deeply into his eyes. “I love you too.”

“Marry me.” Aaron said, his voice filled with sincerity.

The shock registered on your face, mouth agape. “What?” You asked, your heart pounding.

“Okay, this wasn’t the way I planned on proposing to you, but I couldn’t wait anymore.” He chuckled, leaning his forehead against yours. “Will you marry me?”

You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing. “I don’t see a ring anywhere.”

He rolled his eyes, a soft smile on his lips. “The ring’s hidden in my desk drawer at the office. I was waiting for the right time to propose, but I can’t wait any longer.”

Your eyes softened, and your heart warmed at his sweet gesture. “You bought a ring?”

Aaron nodded, gently kissing your hands. “I told you, I wanted to marry you. I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away, trying to contain your emotions. “Yes, Aaron Hotchner. I will marry you.” You said, a mixture of excitement and love in your voice.

He grinned, relief and happiness evident in his expression. “You will?” He whispered.

“Yes, a million times yes.” You replied, your heart soaring at the prospect of spending your life with the man you loved.

With that, Aaron pulled you into a tight embrace, his lips meeting yours in a passionate and loving kiss. The world around you faded away, and all that mattered was the promise of a future together, as partners in both love and life.

“Did you guys really think we didn’t know you two were together all this time?” Rossi questioned, a playful glint in his eyes as the team sat together on the jet, heading home after a successful case. “We aren’t profilers for nothing.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, trying to focus on the paperwork spread out on the table. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the lighthearted teasing. Finally feeling content in your life, you leaned back in your seat, feeling the warmth of Aaron’s presence beside you.

“It’s true.” Spencer chimed in with a smile. “We always knew you two were dating, but we didn’t say anything because you thought we didn’t know. It’s pretty funny, considering all the looks you give each other when–”

“Reid.” Aaron interrupted, cutting off the young genius before he could go further. The team stifled a laugh as Spencer mumbled out a quick “Sorry,” a sheepish smile on his face, and returned to his book.

JJ grinned mischievously. “Oh, come on, Hotch. We’ve seen the way you look at Y/N, and the way Y/N looks back.”

Elle nodded, adding her own insight. “Yeah, it was kind of adorable watching you two try to keep it a secret.”

You exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, feeling a mix of amusement and affection. “Well, I guess we weren’t as subtle as we thought.” You admitted, a smile tugging at your lips.

His lips threatened to curl up into a smile, and you noticed it, playfully bumping your shoulders against his. He tried to maintain his composure, looking away and focusing his attention back on the paperwork, but his mind seemed to betray him as a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness at seeing that smile, knowing that you were the one who could bring it out in him. He was the tough and stoic leader to everyone else, but with you, he allowed himself to be vulnerable and open.

The rest of the team had amused grins on their faces, watching the two of you with knowing looks. Their usual boss, who rarely showed any emotion, appeared so content and happy whenever you were around. It was a sight they cherished, seeing the man they respected and admired, smile genuinely because of you.

As the night grew on, everyone on the jet was asleep, but you and Aaron were still awake. You laid your head on Aaron’s shoulder, your hand clasped with one of his, as he continued looking through the paperwork. It was a habit for him to bury himself in work, even during quiet moments like this.

You gently nudged the papers away, and he raised an eyebrow at you. “Stop, you need to sleep.”

“You need to sleep, too.” He whispered, his lips pressing against the top of your head in a tender gesture.

You sighed softly, giving him a determined look. “Okay, but you have to stop this. You can look at these when we get back, but for now, you need rest.”

A playful grin spread across his face, and he leaned forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. “Anything for you.”

You gladly kissed him back, feeling a rush of warmth and love for this man. His dedication to his job and his team was commendable, but you also wanted him to take care of himself. He deserved rest and peace, especially after the intense case and the events of the day.

You settled into a comfortable position, still holding each other’s hands, and let the gentle hum of the jet lull you both to sleep. In each other’s arms, you felt a sense of comfort that reassured you, everything had a way of falling into place as it was meant to be.

[munsonluhvr]

WAY BACK [Part 1]

synopsis: older/adult!Steve harrington x adult!reader. it's been nearly twenty years since you and your high-school sweetheart, Steve Harrington, broke up. As you've seemingly moved on, living your life, Steve has been stuck in 1986, the year of your breakup, and has mulled over every idea to get you back to him. When Steve stumbles across your MySpace page, posting that you're back in town, a series of events leads you to the reality of your relationship with Steve and if your love for each other is still viable after all these years. warnings: brief mention of sex, potentially more detailed in the future (tbd) and cursing. author's note: YOU GUYSSS, I'M BACK. I'm so SO sorry for my lengthy hiatus but I went through quite the rollercoaster this summer and then started my last semester of graduate school... however, I've finally been able to begin writing again and look forward to writing out this storyline as well as finish/wrap up other installments of other fics I've started but haven't finished <3 but! for now! I'm quite happy to present to you this y2k (my fav era) fic for you... ☆ part 2 coming soon...

[ Twenty Years Ago, 1986 ]

Steve runs his fingers through your hair, the sun reflecting off of your locks of hair, letting the strands slip through his fingers smoothly. You smiles faintly, glancing quickly at him before turning her eyes back to the pond that sits in front of them. You watch closely, yet slightly distracted by Steve’s gentle touches, as two swans dance across the water, as if they’re playing a game of tag. The skin on the side of your face, the apples of your cheeks, ignite as Steve’s blunt fingertips drag up and down. Your stomach is in knots, tense with anticipation of his next move. Steve is lost in his own thoughts, wondering how he got to lucky to be sitting with you, the heat of the sun keeping them warm against the chilly spring weather. All he could think about is how he wouldn’t let himself screw this up. 

You and Steve stand against the glowing lights of her porch, moths darting around them in the night’s sky. You stand close, chests almost touching, the only thing between you is the warm summer air that is thick and heavy – but this doesn’t keep you two apart, not nearly. Steve’s hand is on your wrist, this fingers gripping lightly around you. His lips itch for yours, his mouth needy to taste you, to know you beyond the boundaries he does now. His fingers begin to trail up your arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. His hand moves until he reaches your cheek, cupping his hand around your face. Your eyes watch as his eyes meet yours, drawing you in until you are fully consumed. You think about all the times you’ve laid across your bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering if Steve is thinking about you too – this is your salvation. Steve leans in closer, trying his best to ignore his heart beating against his chest, the blood rushing through his head. Your knees get weak, threatening to let you crumble against his touch, right on your front porch. ‘Kiss me,’ you thinks, ‘Consume me until there’s nothing left.’ Steve leans in as if he heard you, taking his confidence to push his mouth into yours, gently, letting your lips blend into one. 

“Bunny!” You squeal, your tongue sticking out between your lips to catch the ice cream that’s smeared across your mouth. He smiles, hearing the softness of your voice say the sweet nickname you gave him months ago. ‘This is heaven Steve thinks, feeling the coldness of his own ice cream dribbling down his cone and across his fingers. He doesn’t even mind the way his fingers will feel sticky in a few minutes, all he can do is watch your teeth flash between your plush lips, the way your cheeks begin to tint pink from laughter and the sun that shines down on where you sit on the curb in front of the ice cream shop. Steve watches as you look off into the distance, your eyes watching cars pass you by. Steve closes his eyes for a minute, his mind flashing to a few nights ago when you had spent time at his house in the evening. In his memory, you’re underneath him, the warmth of your skin drawing him closer and closer to you, the soft breaths that escape from your mouth. You are laid across his bed, in your underwear and a tank top, your arms circling around his shoulders, your legs fastening themselves around his waist, bringing him lower to your body. You lift your head, maneuvering to fit yourself into the crook of his neck, leaving light, gentle kisses in the process. Even now, in the current moment, Steve could feel the same intense burning in his loins that he had for you, the way he wanted to immerse himself in you and never pull away. Steve let’s his eyes open, and he returns to watching you watch the cars and contently lap away at your ice cream cone. He reaches out, unable contain the urge, and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheek bone. 

You and Steve stand on opposite sides of his bed in his room, the tension between you thick. You bites back tears, willing for a time machine to appear to allow this to end. Your fingertips dig into your palm, your frustration beginning to show. Steve clenches his jaw, not knowing how to best remedy this situation. “Talk to me, y/n.” Steve pleads, his mind whirling to a halt. He watches as you paces back and forth, your face in her hands. You whimper, missing the feeling of Steve’s arms around you already. You drops your hands from your face, wrapping them around yourself. “This isn’t going to work, Steve.” You whispers, your voice trembling with sadness. Steve’s room tilts, feeling as if he’s losing his balance. It’s then that he manages to get you to look at him and he notices the tears that collect in your eyes and the way they threaten to spill.

[ Now, 2006 ]

Steve sits in his leather cushioned reclining chair, using the lever on the side to kick out the footrest. He sighs as it goes back, his body relaxing for the first time that day. He chuckles to himself, thinking about what his father might say about possessing a reclining chair. He can almost hear his late father’s voice in the back of his mind, the overbearing deepness of his tone, the way he’d shake his head at his son owning something middle American owned – something he'd never be caught dead with in his own living room, not if he had anything to say about it. 

Steve shakes off the thought of his father and reaches over to his side table to collect the tv remote. He pushes the buttons until the tv flicks on, the colors of the gameshow that pops on filling the dimness of the room. Every night, Steve looks forward to numbing his brain with senseless tv programming, allowing himself to escape just for a little while until work calls him back into the real world in the morning. His life has quieted down throughout the years, going from his late teens and early twenties fighting monsters to spending most of his days alone. His friends have dispersed throughout the country, growing up and taking adult jobs, beginning their own lives – while Steve is still stuck in Hawkins, growing older every day. 

Steve gets bored of Wheel of Fortune and presses the remote button to flip through channels. He passes a Western themed movie, CNN, One Tree Hill, and he keeps clicking, finding nothing is appealing enough to watch, not enough to keep his mind occupied and distracted. Steve continues to click, and he passes an obscure romance movie, skips it, then backtracks, pressing the back button to return to the movie. He watches, the characters, male and female, are close, their lips nearly touching, their hands on each other’s faces. They whisper to each other, their eyelashes fluttering, their breath labored. Steve’s jaw clenches, and he begins to remember all too well. 

The memory of you is something Steve keeps hidden in his mind, most are thoughts he hardly has the stomach to touch and revisit. Steve learned early on in his life, because of you, that you can do anything and everything you can to move on, but the feeling of unfinished business will hold you back in time. 

Steve watches the movie intensely, losing himself momentarily. He watches the way the male character is drawn in by the female character, the way you can tell he’s losing himself in her minute by minute, second by second. He swallows, the memory of you beginning to creep forward in his brain. You are the only person Steve has witnessed himself get lost in, even twenty years later. He shakes his head, leaning over to pick up his beer that sits on his side table where the remote once sat. He takes several swigs, determined to will his brain into another direction. 

Steve leans back in his chair, noticing how his body has gone from relaxed to tense – the thought of you always has that effect. He stirs in his seat for several moments longer, blinking his thoughts away. His jaw clenches, and then all at once, he closes his eyes, leaning his head back and allows all the memories to flood back into his mind. It’s a sort of self-harm, really, Steve is sure of it. Thinking of you is his guilty pleasure, something he knows he shouldn’t be doing but does it anyway. Thinking of you is an action that feels good in the moment but hurts like hell afterwards. 

Oh, what Steve would do to be 19 again, holding your frame in between his arms. Steve remembers it all too well, the feeling of excitement bubbling in his stomach still as he remembers the thrill of sneaking into your bedroom or pulling you close to him, letting his lips decorate your face with soft kisses. The feeling he had with you, pure love, is something he’s never been able to replicate with anyone else, and trust, he’s tried.  

Steve has never been able to fully understand what drove you two apart, he was confident he would make you his wife someday. But overtime, it seemed you were slipping from his grip minute by minute, month by month, until it, seemingly, was too much for you to bear. It is true that Steve has attempted to replicate what he had with you but with other women. It ended with boredom or dissatisfaction; every girl was not you. Steve had been through too many women, it was getting embarrassing at his ripe age of forty, and he got tired of fucking women while imagining it was you underneath him or on top of him, and, subsequently, the women got bored with Steve trying to turn them into you. Every single one of his girlfriends pitied him, wishing for his own sake, and to spare every other female in Hawkins, that Steve would find his way back to you. 

It has been decades since Steve has seen you, the last real conversation being the night you broke up. He would catch glimpses of you for the next few years when you’d come back to town from college, visiting your parents or friends in Hawkins. Though, now it’s been over ten years since he’s seen you last – but he’s been keeping tabs on you. 

Steve is truly grateful for technological advancements, MySpace being a platform he thanks the heavens above each time he logs on and types your name in. Looking you up online is something he tries to do less and less every time, but he unabashedly fails, and it is no less than a weekly occurrence that he’s scrolling through your personalized page. Lucky for Steve, you’re quite active on MySpace, posting music clips and occasionally pictures, allowing Steve into what is now your life. It feels strange to Steve, seeing what you’re like now and how you’re so different then the 19- or 20-year-old version of yourself. He listens and then relistens to the music clips you post and when they’re romantic songs, he can’t help but wonder if the words are about him to you. 

Checking up on you through MySpace hasn’t always been pleasant. Steve has taken several punches to the gut when you’ve updated your profile, ‘In a Relationship,’ yet you never posted any more details than that. 

Steve’s fingers tingle and he can’t help but stand up abruptly from his chair and walk over to his desk where his large, clunky computer sits. He’s in auto-mode, his fingers already informed on what to do. Before he knows it, your profile is stretched across his computer screen. 

Your profile picture flashes up: a curious smile on your mouth as you stand amongst friends, arms slung around them, a beer in one of your hands. He scrolls down with his mouth, fingers jittery as Steve notices you’ve posted since the last time he’s looked. 

“Glad to be back home, been a long time coming!” The caption reads, accompanied by a photo of you standing in Hawkins’ town square, hands up in the air above your head, a big smile on your face. Posted: 3 hours ago. 

Steve gulps, all his breath catching in his throat. “Fuck,” Steve whispers to himself, putting a hand to his forehead. Steve scrolls back up quickly, unable to face a current picture of you. In Hawkins. Right now. Steve clicks the search bar, hitting enter to refresh the page. It takes a second, but your MySpace page reloads, a brand-new picture popping up this time. Steve jams his pointer finger onto the mouse cursor, scrolling down to see the new post. 

“Look who I’m with at Hawkins Bar and Billiards…” A picture with Nancy and Jonathan Byers, the three of your heads crammed into a small picture, grins on your faces. Posted 13 seconds ago. 

Steve suddenly feels like passing out, his large house suddenly feeling small and suffocating.  Steve’s hands clench as he fights back the urge to get in his car and go to Hawkins Bar, it’s only a three-minute drive from his house in which he frequents often. What would he even say to you? It’s been so long, he’s not even sure what he would have to stay. 

Steve sits for a moment, chewing at his bottom lip as he thinks. What would seeing you do to him after thinking about you for the last twenty years and virtually checking up on you for the last ten years? What would you think of him after twenty years? He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm in his mind. 

After several more minute of contemplation, Steve recognizing that he’d spend the rest of the night thinking about what you’re doing or what you’re talking about, he decided he’d swing by the bar. Just because he was going to leave the house doesn’t mean he’d actually have to go in or walk up to you. He could do a drive-by, attempting to see you through the window, or go in and sit at another table, just checking up on you to make sure you’re doing okay. In all honestly, Steve doesn’t know what he was going to do, all he wants is to be near you once again. 

Standing up from his seat, he dashes towards his front door, grabbing his car keys and coat off the miniature hangers besides the door. Steve opens the front door, the rush of crisp autumn air blowing him back slightly. He slips his coat on, tightening it around his frame as he walks towards his car. His fingers jitter with excitement? Nerves? Steve is too frazzled to analyze his movements or feelings as he normally does. 

Once he gets into his car, Steve turns the ignition on, letting it rubble. With precision, he backs his vehicle up, beginning to point it towards the bar. 

Steve’s stomach is in knots, as he drives towards the bar, unsure of what he’s going to be met with once he arrives. Does he go in? Stay outside? Go up to you or stay away? Steve takes one hand off the steering wheel, digging his thumb into his temple as he rubs away at the brewing headache. 

The ride over to the bar is quick, only down a few blocks from where he lives. In any other circumstance, Steve appreciates his home being in close proximity to the bar but now he wishes it was on the other side of town to allow for him to process just what in the hell he was doing. 

He approaches the bar, slowing his BMW down to attempt to peer into the glass windows of the bar, though he can’t catch a glimpse of you from the road. He puts his blinker on, turning into the parking lot that abuts the bar. He scans the parking lot looking for a spot while wondering which car is yours. He smiles to himself thinking about how knowing you wanted a Volkswagen beetle was one of the first facts he logged away about you in his brain. At 19, he foolishly thought he would buy you a brand new one for one of your birthdays when you and he were married and had established careers. He always could imagine the way your face would light up when he would hand you the keys. His heart breaks, now, thinking about how he was never able to do that for you. 

He turns his car off, taking one last deep breath before he opens his car door. As he gets out of his car, he thinks how foolish he is to be here, potentially going up to you, for what? To rekindle a two-decade old flame that might not be mutual? In that moment, Steve thinks it’s best for him to go home but something inside of him pushes his feet towards the bar’s entrance and suddenly his hand is on the door handle. 

He gulps once, twice, and he pushes the door inwards, and he steps inside. 

The bar isn’t particularly packed tonight, though Steve thinks he can hide himself away in a corner behind other groups of people if he chooses to do so. Though, without warning, Steve’s eyes land on yours, yours on his. The pit in Steve’s stomach expands and he’s positive he’s going to puke. You look just as you did, as if no time has passed and you’re both still 19, nearly 20. 

Your face shows that you know it’s Steve and he wishes he could jump into your mind, even for a moment, and know exactly what you’re thinking. Does he still look the same? Do you want to kiss him like he wants to kiss you? To taste your mouth and see if it’s still the intoxicating flavor he was addicted to way back. 

Steve is tempted to turn on his heel, high tailing it out to his car where he would speed the short drive back home. But he’s stuck in time, frozen, as if he were a deer in the headlights, in where he stands. 

He watches as your mouth opens and closes, your eyes widening by the second. Who looks like Nancy is sitting in front of you, back to Steve, completely unaware that he’s walked in, and this is the first time you and Steve have seen each other in almost 20 years. Nancy is talking quickly, unaware your attention is focused elsewhere but she must say something intriguing as you let your eyes go from Steve back to Nancy. 

Steve inhales, feeling like he can move now that your gaze is off of him, and he darts to the back of the bar and seats himself at a high-table, contemplating what he is to do now. 

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k words

warnings: explicit language, overall a very sweet and wholesome chapter 🫶🏾 (before things go slightly 📉 in the next one)

summary: you spend valentine’s day (well, night) with steve

CHAPTER TEN | ❝𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖❞

Spring Semester 2016

“You should still come. I want you to.” How genuine Eddie’s words sounded almost made you want to say yes, but you didn’t. You couldn’t.  

“No, I’d rather not be a third wheel with you and Chrissy for a week,” You said, keeping your voice playful even though your words were a thousand percent serious. You shifted a bit on your bed, crossing your legs under yourself.  

“That’s not gonna happen,” He responded and that was when you looked up from the book you had in your hand and over to where Eddie was sitting at your small desk— you’d been stuck reading and rereading the same page since he showed up to your dorm room five minutes ago. 

You knew that the plans for spring break had changed long before Eddie even realized that they did. There was no way that you’d be spending the week with him in his hometown— he had Chrissy now. What did surprise you was that he still wanted you to come, which was a nice thought but a horrible idea. And you couldn’t tell him exactly why you felt that way. 

Yes, your feelings for him were buried, but that didn’t mean that you wanted to have a front-row seat to his and Chrissy’s relationship for a week— the PDA, the cute stuff, everything. You’d immediately end up as a third wheel, and you didn’t believe Eddie’s words of “that not happening.”

“It’s inevitable,” You told him, and before he could potentially protest your words, you shifted the subject just slightly. “And besides, my roommate is already gone, so I’ll get to have the room to myself this entire week and that will be nice.”

Eddie considered your words for a second.  “You sure?”

You nodded. “Very.”

He was quiet for another moment and you wondered if he was going to ask you again if you were sure or if he was going to say something else to try and convince you to come, but instead, he said, “Okay, but call any night you hate the quiet and just want to talk about nothing.” 

Hearing him say that made you smile. “Got it. Thanks.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Spring Semester 2018

For the first time probably ever, it was quiet in your apartment.

Everyone had gone to some romcom movie marathon thing at the close by movie theater; it started at seven and was going until midnight. You, of course, wanted to go too, but you instead told everyone that you had something planned with Steve for the night. Since it was Valentine’s Day, you figured that it would’ve probably seemed weird if you and him didn’t have “something planned.”

Your actual plans for the night were still uncertain to you. You contemplated staying in your room or heading to the library to study so that you could just get out of the apartment for the time being. 

You were still in the middle of deciding what to do when your phone started ringing on your desk. The only name you expected to see was Steve’s, and you were right.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” He started. “Are you home right now?”

“Yeah,” You answered as you sat at the foot of your bed. “Oh, shit, is this the part where you murder me?”

Steve laughed a bit. “If the answer was yes, I wouldn’t tell you that.” 

“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind a murdering right now. I’m really bored.” 

“Great, I’ll be there in ten minutes,” He responded and then added, “Not to murder you, by the way. I just need to give you something.” 

“And by something, you mean a knife to my heart. What a great Valentine’s day present.” 

Steve laughed again. “You’re being weirder than usual.” 

There was something about how amused he sounded that made you smile. “Thanks. See you in ten.”

He was knocking on your door fifteen minutes later, and you still hadn’t come to a decision about what you wanted to do for the rest of the night. 

“Hi, your elevator really sucks.” 

You almost laughed at that since you knew exactly how shitty the elevator in the building could be. “Yeah, you got lucky when you were here for game night.”

It was then that you noticed everything in his hands; the flowers and red gift bag that you could only assume had your favorite candy in it. 

“You really didn’t have to do this,” You told him as you opened the door further so that he could come in. 

“Of course, I had to. I already told you that I like being a good fake boyfriend,” He joked, smiling at you.  

“In that case, thank you,” You said as he handed everything over to you; and you couldn’t help but take note of how nice the daisies were. “And I don’t really care about being a good fake girlfriend, but I actually did get you something too.”

You started heading toward your room and gestured for him to follow you.  

You placed the flowers and gift bag on your desk and then grabbed the small stuffed brown bear that was wearing a red bowtie and handed it over to Steve. 

“Wow, great minds,” He said, and before you could ask him what he meant, he continued. “Look in the bag.”

You nodded as you looked in the red gift bag, seeing the sour gummy worms, which you expected, and then also a stuffed bear. It was brown too but it was holding a red heart in its hands. You smiled at it and then at Steve as you pulled it out.“Thank you, but Bowie’s better.”

“Bowie?”

“The name of your bear,” You said, gesturing to what he was still holding in his hand. “Because of the bow tie. Bowie.” 

“Shouldn’t I be the one who gets to name it?” 

“No,” You said simply.

“Okay, then,” Steve nodded, an amused smile on his face. 

Things became quiet for a second, comfortably so, until he was speaking again. “I’m just realizing that it’s actually quiet here for once. Where’s everyone?” 

“They went to this romcom movie marathon thing at the movie theater,” You answered as you put the bear back in the bag and pulled out the gummy worms. “I told them that I had plans with you since it would’ve been weird if I didn’t.”

“Makes sense,” Steve nodded. “What are your actual plans for the night?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe watch a movie here or go to the library to do some work. Or maybe try to be a normal person and attempt to get a decent number of hours of sleep for once.”

“We should do something.”

Just for a second, you considered saying no to his suggestion because maybe he was just saying it to be nice and he didn’t really mean it. The equivalence of someone asking “How are you?” and always answering them with “Good,” even if that wasn’t true, because it was just easier and they probably didn’t even mean the question in the first place. 

But, you and Steve were passed that kind of thing. If he asked you how you were doing, you knew that you’d be honest with him, and you believed that that feeling was mutual. You also believed that he wouldn’t say something to you if he didn’t mean it. 

And that realization was what made you ultimately nod at his words. “Okay. What do you wanna do?”

He smiled then. “I already have an idea, but I think it should be a surprise.”

You gave him a look. “I can’t tell if I should be scared of that smile or not.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna murder you.”

“I think that’s exactly what a murderer would say,” You told him, but still changed into something that would be better for the cool mid-February weather and followed him out of your apartment and to the shitty elevators and then to his car.

The streets he drove down were familiar until they weren’t, and it became hard to tell where you two were going, but you kind of liked that; the not knowing. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“What makes this even more embarrassing right now is that I know that you’re trying to let me win.”

“I’m not,” Steve responded as he shot another basket and missed again. “I just haven’t played in a long time so I’m a little rusty.”

You shook your head. “You’re a bad liar.”

It was a twenty minute drive to the arcade that you and Steve ended up at. You had never heard of Mac’s, but Steve claimed that it was great, and after just the first half an hour of being there you could admit that he was right. You wondered how often he’d bring girls here; this place was a solid date idea, so you imagined that it had to be a “go-to.” But you didn’t ask that— you didn't ask why he wanted to bring you here or why it had been the first place that had come to his mind. Instead, you continued playing games with him, deciding not to wonder about anything else. 

Playing against each other in basketball was your suggestion even though you knew that you’d probably lose since only one of you was good at the actual game. But, there were eighteen seconds left and Steve was only up by two points in what was probably the lowest-scoring game of arcade basketball ever— ten points for you to his twelve. 

You gave him a playful smile. “You’re allowed to bruise my ego a bit since I demolished you twice in skee-ball.”

“You only won by a hundred points the first time and fifty points the second, so I wouldn’t necessarily call those the “greatest wins of all time.””

“Shut up, they were fantastic wins,” You responded as you watched the timers above your and his baskets go down to eight seconds. 

You shot again and missed and expected that to be it; you didn’t want to shoot more and just embarrass yourself further. But, when the timer hit five seconds, Steve almost too easily shot two of his balls into your basket, which made you two end the game tied. 

You looked at him. “I can’t believe you just gave me pity points.” 

“No, I just missed my basket really badly and accidentally made it in yours,” Steve said and you laughed as you shook your head and then grabbed the five tickets that came out of your machine and his for playing the game. 

You stuffed them into your jacket pocket along with all of the others that you and he had gotten over the past hour and then looked up at him. “Now, I’m starting to question my tiebreaker air hockey win.” 

Steve smiled at you. “No, that was real. You’re actually good at that.”

“I feel kind of offended that you said “actually good,” but thank you anyway, I guess,” You laughed again as you pulled the final two tokens out of the back pocket of your jeans. “Should we use these last ones on the rigged claw machine?”

Steve nodded. “Great idea.” 

You two had tried it earlier— it was actually the first thing that you and he did when you got to the arcade, as per Steve’s suggestion. When you went, you actually managed to grab something but it slipped out of the dumb claw at the last second, and the same thing happened to Steve. The odds now didn’t feel better at all, but you figured it was the easiest way to use the last tokens you two had.

“Are we trying for the stuffed green frog again?” Steve asked when you handed the tokens over to him and he put them in the machine, starting the sixty-second timer for the game. 

You shook your head, eyes on the random toys that were in the machine. “I think we should play it safe and do that red ball in the middle. It’ll probably be easier to get.” 

“Okay,” He said, and started moving the claw and then lowered it in what looked like the right spot, but the hand couldn't get a good grip on the ball so it immediately slipped out of its loose grasp.

You sighed. “So rigged. And a very sad way to end our arcade run. But, at least, we’ll be able to get something good with our tickets.”

Steve shook his head. “The only bad part about this place is that the prizes are kinda shitty.” 

“So we won’t be able to get something equivalent to the green frog?”

“Probably not,” He answered and you sighed overdramatically again. “And we should stay away from the candy too. I’m pretty sure it’s been sitting behind the counter since this place opened.” 

You two headed over to the lackluster “prize counter” and ended up with two palm tree keychains because that was somehow the only thing that your and Steve’s collective ninety-eight tickets could get. 

“You wanna go to the pizza place down the street?” He asked as you two stepped out of the arcade and onto the sidewalk. He gestured his head in the direction of the pizza place and you noticed the red and white checkered awning and glowing sign at the end of the block. “They’re pretty good.” 

“Okay,” You nodded, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your jacket when a gust of wind hit you both. “But, I’m buying since you got everything here.” 

“I can’t let that happen,” Steve responded, but you simply shook your head at him.

“Stop being so chivalrous and let me do something nice for you for once.”  

He laughed at how serious you sounded. “Okay, fine.”

You two kept walking, and then you were thinking of something and saying it before you could really consider your words. “It honestly sucks that you don’t want anything serious with anyone because you really would be a good boyfriend.” You weren’t sure why you were telling him that right then, but it was the truth. You looked over at him for a quick second. “Y’know, you never explained why you don’t do relationships.”

You remembered that during the night of the power outage, you were going to ask him pretty much that exact thing. When he mentioned his camp girlfriend and their three-week-long relationship, you wanted to know what happened to him wanting things like that— crushes, relationships, actual feelings for someone— but you felt like you couldn’t ask that then. However, for some reason, in this moment, bringing up that subject didn’t feel like it would be too much anymore— it no longer felt too deep or too real. It surprisingly felt normal. 

Maybe that said a lot about this friendship you two had developed— which still hadn’t been outwardly stated was an actual friendship, but it so obviously felt like one.  

“I don’t know,” You noticed him shrug. “I just don’t want to, I guess.”

“Did you get your heart broken and still haven’t fully recovered from it?”

Steve got quiet then instead of laughing at your joking question, which made you realize that you were actually right. 

“Wait, shit, really?” You stopped walking for a second and looked at him. He gave you a quick nod and you immediately felt terrible. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. It was years ago at this point— it happened Senior year of high school— and it also doesn’t really matter,” Steve shrugged. “And I am over it, actually, I just don’t want something like that to happen again, so…” He shrugged for a third time, which didn’t do much to convince you that it “didn’t really matter.”

“I guess that makes sense, but that’s kinda sad, I think?” You two had started walking again and you took the briefest look over at him as you spoke. “Letting one person change the way you feel about love and relationships and stuff. That sucks.” 

“When you put it in simple terms like that it does sound sad, but I don’t know, I don’t really feel that way,” Steve said, and his words surprisingly sounded honest. “And I won’t be against it forever— you already know that my parents would kill me. But for right now, it’s just easier. A lot easier.” 

You found yourself agreeing with him. Your life would probably be a thousand times easier if you viewed things like he did. 

“Okay, yeah, I get that,” You ultimately nodded. You two made it to the pizza place and he opened the door for you and you smiled at him in thanks. “It still doesn’t change the fact that some lucky girl out there is sadly missing out on the Steve Harrington boyfriend experience, though.” 

“Eddie’s missing out too,” He said and then playfully smiled at you. “Even though I know you’ll never get me curtains, you’re still a good fake girlfriend.”

You laughed as you both stepped into place behind the other people in line. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you. I finally think that this whole fake dating thing will actually end up working.”

“You didn’t think it was gonna work before?”

“I mean, before I thought maybe it could, but now I feel more sure about it,” You answered, and it kind of surprised you how okay it felt saying those words and admitting that to Steve. 

There was still the smallest part of you that felt like maybe you were wrong about this— like you’d been with other things regarding you and Eddie a bunch of times before. However, it was also easier to shut that side of your mind down and go with the side of you that both wanted this to happen and felt like it genuinely could. 

And you knew that all of this had to do with Steve. You didn’t think you’d feel this certain about things if it wasn’t for him. He was that someone to tell you that the situation wasn’t helpless and you weren’t overthinking things, and you believed him.

“You’re right,” You told him when you two were sitting in one of the booths, but you were referring to the slice of pizza in your hand. “This is really good.” 

“Told you,” Steve said and then smiled. “And if we ever come back here, I’m buying.” 

You playfully rolled your eyes at him. “I guess I’ll allow that.”

“Good,” He responded, and then it was quiet for a moment until it seemed as if he realized something. “Oh, and it’s Hartford, by the way.”

“What?”

“The name of the bear I got for you,” Steve explained. “Since you named the one you got for me, I get to name the one I got you.” 

“Okay. Hartford,” You nodded and gave him a small smile. “I like that.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

next part!

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