#robin puts a name to his sexuality when they had no customers and steve was just talking about how he found some guy in a movie is

[sentient-trash]

I need more confident bisexual Steve and Steve that has an inkling he likes both and isn’t phased by his attraction to men. GIVE ME MORE CONFIDENT BISEXUAL STEVE !!!1!!

[dartlekey]

One scoop, two scoop, girl scoop, boy scoop

written for @strangerthingsocweek | rated T | 1486 words cw implied sexual harrassment, misgendering, period-typical homophobia

When Steve returns from the back with a new tub of ice-cream, Robin tears her eyes away from the entrance of Scoops Ahoy to suggest, "You ready to shoot your shot again, Harrington? Or should I take this one?" 

Steve picks the empty container out of the display case without looking, slotting the new container in with ease as surveys the shop, then turns back to Robin with a confused squint. "There's no one here," he tells her, which Robin only doesn't roll her eyes at because he did just literally come out of the back. 

"Nah, over there, by the planter," she explains, nodding vaguely towards the walkway in front of Scoops. "She's walked past here, like, twice, slowly, and now she's just - staring at us. She's definitely coming in here, as soon as she works up the nerve. Though I'm not quite sure what she's so scared of."

Steve looks out at their potential customer. Then he looks back at Robin. "Buckley, that's a teenage boy."

Robin does roll her eyes this time, very pointedly, before turning away from Steve and back to a slim figure in men's jeans and an oversized polo, banged up sneakers and a light brown mullet much like Steve's, except this one fans wide instead of high. A round face with tired blue eyes, a paper note in a calloused hand. Looking at the other girl makes Robin giddy - she's never had the guts to dress so masculine, but she's always wanted to. Never thought she'd see someone like this in Hawkins. 

There's no way she can explain this to the King of the Heteros, but knowing for sure he'll get rejected again delivers its own kind of satisfaction. "No, she's not," Robin says derisively. "Look at the shirt. She works at A&D's, you know, the women's clothing store on the ground floor?" 

Steve frowns. "A teenage boy could be working at a women's clothing store. Don't be sexist."

If this were anyone but Steve Harrington, Robin would be impressed by their open-mindedness, but he's probably only saying that to be contrarian. Or get in her good books. Both kind of icky, really. "Work there, yeah - but not running the place. I've seen her lock up at night, open in the mornings. She instructs the other girls on how to dress the mannequins, which dressing racks to put in front of the windows. Face it, Steve, that's a woman - but, to be fair, from the way you've been striking out, you don't know much about women, do you?"

Steve looks so offended it takes everything in Robin not to burst out laughing. "Excuse you?", Steve says hotly, "I am very knowledgeable about women, and you know what? I'll prove it to you, once she's - oh, shit."

Apprently, she's finally decided to walk into Scoops, shoulders hunched and eyes sharp as she approaches the counter. Robin stares unashamedly, trying to commit everything about her appearance to memory - she's not attracted to A&D girl (unfortunate though that may be, because she's probably never getting another chance like this), but Robin is drawn to her all the same. Like recognizing like, and all that. 

Steve doesn't recognize shit, though. "Hey there, beautiful," he purrs, twirling his scoop in that way which would be impressive if Robin hadn't seen him fumble it twenty plus times while practicing, even smacking himself in the face once. "No need to be shy; if you're unsure of what to get I'll be happy to guide you to a more, uh… unconventional flavor. My name's -" 

"Steve Harrington," their customer interrupts, voice surprisingly soft, "I know. Though I was not aware your flavor included guys."

Oh, Jesus. Robin was wrong. Robin was super wrong, which is extremely disappointing but also sort of morbidly funny, because Steve immediately turns pale as a sheet. 

"Oh, I'm - oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -" 

A&D guy allows himself a small grin, half amused, half - resigned, almost. "Don't worry about it. I suppose you weren't technically wrong yet, I was just being a little mean."

Steve looks about as confused as Robin feels. "Yet? I'm - what? Are you a guy or not?" 

And A&D guy… shrugs. Actually shrugs, like he doesn't really know either, and doesn't particularly care. "In my experience, other people have a lot stronger opinions on that than I do, so I just let them decide. I only ask for consistency in return, because trading pronouns all the time gets messy fast. So, uh," he clears his throat, and fidgets with the note in his hand. "You assumed I was a woman, so to you, I am one. Might not want to flirt with me anymore, though, I'm pretty sure I'm not your type."

Steve blinks. Swallows, blinks again. Then, much to Robin's surprise, he says, "Fuck it. Okay, sure. What's one more tally on the board, right, Buckley? And what can I get for you…?" 

"Kicks," the - person in front of the counter says, shoulders relaxing marginally. "Kicks Maguire," which, alright, is a sick-ass name, and Robin can respect commitment to the bit when it's coming from such an obviously queer person. "And I have a list, it's, uh - each scoop in a separate cup, please, and that's uh, chocolate, chocolate again, strawberry, vanilla, caramel, and lemon."

"Wow, someone's hungry," Robin can't resist joking as she waves Kicks over to the register, and when Kicks laughs Steve fumbles his second chocolate scoop, dropping it back into the container with a curse. "No, this is for the entire team," Kicks explains, "my coworkers. They've been working hard, thought they deserved a treat."

Aw, that's sweet. Robin subtly skims a quarter off the total, then quips cheekily, "What, and none of them wanted to help you carry their prize back to home base?" 

Kicks' eyes flicker to Steve for just a second before returning to Robin, and his - her? No, his, Robin decides, his smile is still perfectly friendly as he forks over a few bills, but Robin is sharper than a lot of people give her credit for. "Nah, I just told them I could handle it."

"Handling it, huh," Robin muses, dropping the change in Kicks' outstretched hand. "Is that why you were messing with Steve, then? Punishment for making your girls uncomfortable?" 

Kicks' eyes widen visibly, and Steve freezes in his movement. "What? Hey, is that true?" 

Kicks shrugs uncomfortably. "Not everyone wants to be flirted with when they're just getting ice cream, Harrington," he says, voice carefully neutral, but Steve still looks like a kicked puppy. "I didn't mean to -" 

Then he frowns, shakes his head. "But I did. I did make those girls uncomfortable, even if I didn't mean to. I'm really sorry Kicks, I - they're probably not gonna want to see my face, but could you tell your girls my sincerest apologies?" 

Kicks looks kind of stumped, which Robin can relate to. "Yeah, I - I can do that. Yup. Sure. I'll just head out then, uh, Steve and -" 

"Robin," Robin fills in the blank, "Robin Buckley."

Kicks shoots her a quick, nervous grin. "Robin. You should come by the shop, sometimes. Even if we don't have a men's section."

His eyes dart back to Steve again, then away, and he grabs the tray with ice-cream they prepared for him. Steve frowns after him when he walks away, gaze lingering thoughtfully on the curve of his back. "He said that to you, right? That's weird. What would you be doing in the men's section?" 

Robin shoots him a tight-lipped smile. "I don't know, Harrington. Tell me, though, which part of the men's section do you get your lip gloss and hairspray from?" 

Steve turns an adorable shade of pink and huffs, "Yeah, yeah, point taken. Whatever."

He still keeps his eyes on Kicks' retreating form, and so does Robin. Kicks just makes for such an odd contradiction - he's so casual about his disregard for gendered expectations, self-assured and easy about it in a way that makes you agree with him, because why wouldn't you? And yet, at the same time, there's this caution about him, a smallness, like he wants nothing more than to disappear into the background. A hyperawareness of his surroundings that Robin knows from herself, the craving and the fear to be other inextricably linked. 

And yet he sticks to his guns, stubborn and open. Robin always thought to be publicly other you'd have to be loud and bold, someone like that Sinclair girl that keeps bugging her for free samples, or like  Munson from her drama class. She likes this quiet self-assuredness, though, this stubborn persistence in spite of the fear, not for a lack of it.  Maybe she will check out A&D's sometime. If only to find out how Kicks gets his hair to defy gravity like that, because like hell she's asking Steve.

[sweet-villain]

Not What It Seems ~ S.H

Anonymous asked:

Can I request some Steve smut set during s3 after the coming out scene. Where reader is Robin's sister and absolutely hates steve or that's what she has everyone else believe (she really loves the man but doesn't want to take Robin's friend away). There is constant fighting and sexual tension between the 2 however. It all comes crashing down when Steve is bringing Robin something because she missed work but overhears the reader moaning his name

Smut

18+, Minors don't read or you will be blocked.

Author's Note : I kinda like how I wrote this. Plus I didn't do this after the coming out scene. I wanted to change it, sorry.

Tags: @haileighboi @pleasantlycrazyworld @moonchildquinn @ceriseheaven @bookshelf-dust @eddiesdruid

“ Are you going to keep staring at me Buckley or are you going to order some ice cream?” Steve asked as he stood with his palms on the counter, looking bored. “ You’re holding up the line” he motions behind you.

You turned around to glance at what line was he referring to when you only spotted one customer standing there.

Once they noticed you were glancing at them, they simply shot you a small smile. It was one of the students that you had class with in school. Robin emerges from the back as notices that you were standing there probably gaping at Steve and question what other things you could say to him to get under his skin. 

“ Not that I love that you come here, Y/N but you’ve been standing there for a whole five minutes. Either you stop staring at dingus or you get a scoop of your favorite ice cream” Robin says. Steve’s face brightens up as he hears Robin, a smirk appears on his face as his arms cross his chest. 

“ Is that right, Buckely? You have a little old crush on me? What do you know…” Steve chuckles. You roll your eyes finally. 

“ In your dreams, Harrington” you hissed and pointed on the glass what kind of ice cream you wanted. But you knew how Steve hated to have finger tips on the glass and once he noticed you placing your full palm on the glass and placing your face closer to the glass, he groaned. 

“ Would you back up? You’re smearing your germs all over the glass that I have to clean later” 

You stood up straighter and pointed to yourself. 

“ I don’t have any germs. The only one with germs is you with that scooper” Steve glared at you through the glass as he scooped up some cream that he didn’t notice he scooped an extra one.

When he handed you your ice cream, there was a brush of finger tips against your own causing your brain to make microwave nosies. 

Steve noticed the brushing of fingers too and stopped to glance over, a hint of red appeared on his cheeks but he cleared his throat as he looks away. It didn’t go unnoticed by your sister who’s been watching the interaction between the two of you with her hands on her hips. 

“ Honestly, you are really holding up the line” she says to you. You turn to look back to see that you were actually holding up the line like Robin says.

There were people waiting and looking impatient from the looks of it. You slide past them passing the bills towards Steve but he wasn’t there. Instead, you were looking at the empty spot of Steve and Robin was the one to grab the bills and put it into the register. Your eyebrow knitted together as your eyes scanned where Steve would have gone. 

Steve on the other hand was running a hand through his hair as he took deep breaths in. 

“ You’re an idiot” he mumbles to himself as he closes his eyes. Minutes later, Robin’s head peeks in glancing at him. 

“ I know you’re fawning over my sister back here, but I really need you out here” Her nose scrunched up at the thought of you being with Steve ever but she was full aware of how you felt about him. It wasn’t that hard to read you.

You had a crush on Steve since, no you were in love with Steve Harrington since freshman year.

One problem though was that you hated Steve Harrington and how he always knew how to get under your skin. But, Steve hated you too and he had mixed feelings for you too.

He thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world and didn’t think he had a chance, he dated Nancy Wheeler and that was a distraction until you fully came back into his life when he started to work with your sister.

All the feelings he had felt for you had rushed back and he hated even moment. He memorized the way you passed him and your scent hit him like a fresh. He memorized how you hair blew in the wind and the way you laughed.

His heart sped out every time he heard it. He memorized the way your voice got louder a bit when you talked about the things that excited you.

He memorized the way his name slipped from your lips. He memorized the way you bond was with the kids. It made his stomach tie it knots knowing one day you’d be a great mother to your kids. A jealous pang grew inside of him thinking of the man you’d end up, it wouldn’t be him.

He didn’t want any man being with you. He didn’t want anon to look at you. He didn’t want any man to touch you. He wanted you. He longed for you. He wished for you. He longed loved you from afar. 

“ Yeah, Yeah” Steve answered as he walked out there and his heart sank seeing you were no longer there. 

The next time Steve saw you was dropping off the kids, he’s been helping something that Eddie needed help with. 

“ Look what the cat dragged in” Steve mumbled as he greeted the kids as his eyes fell on you as you walked into his living room. 

“ Oh bite me” you rolled your eyes as you tell him. He smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“ When and where?” He asks. 

The kids groan, Eddie chuckles while Robin makes throw up motions and Nancy shakes her head. 

“ Do you not see us? We’re right here!” Dustin shouts as he motions to everyone in the room. 

“ I think it’s time you two got together and done the dirty” Eddie says. You let out a fake shiver with your nose scrunched up in disgust. 

“ Never, ever happening. Eds, he’s run through so many girls, why would someone like him go for someone like me even?” Eddie raised his eyebrow and a slight smirk on his face. “ No” You caught on what he was thinking.

“ Absolutely not” He chuckled as he pointed a finger into your direction. “ You like Harrington” 

Steve’s eyes brighten as his heard turned to look at your reaction and to find your nose scrunched up and you did a shiver with disgust written on your face.

You saw the flash of hurt cross Steve’s face for a brief moment but then it was gone replaced with an eye roll. 

“ I wouldn’t even dream of adding you to the list” Steve says. “ You probably don’t even know how a real cock looks like” 

“ We are in the room!” Max covers her ears in disgust sending a glare at Steve. “ Dude” Dustin says. “ I need to bleach my brain now, thank you very much” he adds. Steve shrugs and motions to you. 

“ She started it” 

“ You two need to bang it out” Eddie mutters which you hear and slap him in the chest. “ Bang it out? What are we twelve? I believe the word your looking for is she needs a good fuck. She needs her brain to be fucked dumb” 

“ Ew, Dingus!” Robin slapped him in the back of his head. “ Can we stop talking about my sister’s sex life and what she needs? I thought we were watching a movie” 

“ I thought so too” 

“ Are they really going to make happy screams?” El asks. Everyone in the room turned to her, Mike pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“ No El, never in Steve Harringtons’s dreams” you tell her. Your eyes fall on him as he sits man spread on the couch with his gaze on you. A shiver ran down your spine feeling his eyes on you. 

“ Neither in yours” he mutters. Everyone could clearly see there was sexual tension between the two of you and knew the way you two felt with one another.

But the truth was the both of you wanted to be with one another, one another craved to know what the other’s touch would feel like against skin to skin. Steve craved to know what you would like under him, above him, while he tugged your hair from the back, listening to the sounds you make just for him.

He felt his cock twitch in his pants at the thought of you and taking you upstairs in his bedroom. He could if he wanted to, show you what his mouth could do too. 

Everyone settled down to watch the movie but Steve couldn’t stop looking at you as you sat down next to Eddie and Nancy.

You were sharing a bag of pretzels with Eddie who kept hiding them away from your reach. Jealousy ran through Steve as he glared at Eddie behind his palm that hid his mouth. 

“ Stop it” he heard you mumble to Eddie. “ Give it here” you added. Both you and Eddie spoke in hushed tones but Steve could heat you loud in clear.

He rolled his eyes having enough of this as he shot out from the spot and headed into the kitchen to get a glass of water. He was hoping it would help him cool off this feeling he was having.

Your head snapped over watching as Steve left to the kitchen, your eyebrow knitted in worry seeing the shoulders stiffed up and his head hanging down. Something looked like it bothered him. 

“ You should go check on your lover” Eddie whispered as he nudged your shoulder with his. You glared over at Eddie as he chuckled returning his eyes to the movie.

You had stepped over Dustin who offered you a smile on your way to the kitchen mumbling sorry that you had to block his view for a moment.

In response, he shook his head and continue to watched the movie. Robin on the other hand watched as you followed Steve into the kitchen with what looks like a mission on your mind. She knew you like the back of her hand.

You were into Steve and she wanted you to get with Steve. It was a matter of time. 

“ What are you thinking?” Eddie had moved over to Robin seeing a certain look on her face as if she was thinking hard about something.

“ I have a plan” she tells him. “ Are you going to share?” She shook her head but answered him, “ You’ll see” she eyed the kitchen and that’s when Eddie had put two and two together. She was going to get you and Steve together somehow. 

“ Are you okay?” You asked Steve when you walked into the kitchen seeing him leaning over the counter with his palms on either side as his head hanged down staring at the counter top.

At the sound of your voice, his shoulders hunched up and his head shot up to listen to what you had to say. Your question had caught him off guard because normally you don’t ask him questions like that. 

“ I’m fine” he answers you with a soft tone, but it doesn’t really match his face because he doesn’t dare to look at you.

His mind is racing with thoughts he shouldn’t be thinking about. You’re Robin’s sister for crying out loud.

You were out of his league. He took a deep breath through his nose as he closed his eyes taking a moment to himself. That’s when he felt it, a small touch of your fingers dancing on his hand to catch his attention. His eyes snapped opened and his head turned to glance down at your fingers on top of his.

They were lingering there and testing the waters. He pulled his hand away feeling your touch send a thousand tingles down your spine. 

“ I don’t-“ he cuts you off with a brush of his shoulder as he passes you. But you don’t miss the hint of laundry detergent and a hint of his shampoo.

He smells really good and he looks really good. Good enough for a taste. Your head spun with many thought just like Steve just had moments ago as he walked back into the living room.

“ Where is Y/N?” Robin asks pausing the movie as she eyes Steve. But before Steve had to answer her, you were rushing to get your things by the front door and putting on your shoes. 

“ Woah there, tiger. Where are you off to?” Eddie asks watching you from the living room. “ Are you off to race?” He joked trying to lightened up the mood. But it wasn’t working because you were putting on your jacket. 

“ Is everything okay?” Robin asks as she makes her way over to you. You were red in the face and you kept clenching and unclenching your fist trying to find your breathing.

“ Y/N?” She asked. That’s when your eyes shot up to look at her and she knew right there that you weren’t okay. She started to put on her jacket too.

“ Where are you going?” Steve asks noticing the Buckley sister’s getting ready to leave. 

“ I need to get Y/N home, she doesn’t look well” she says pointing to you. That’s when Steve takes notices of your face and the clenched fist. “ What happened?” He asked in a worry tone.

“ Did you eat something from the kitchen?” He asked you. But you weren’t answering him and it began to worry everyone else. But Robin knew what this was as she followed you to the car.

“ Is it safe for her to drive?” Nancy asked. Robin nodded her head as the gang watched you drive off. 

“ As much as I love you and dingus too, but you two really need to get it all out and get together” She says. 

“ Shut up, I don’t know what your talking about” She snickered. “ You got it bad for Harrington” you sighed gripping the wheel driving home. 

Steve’s eyes were drooping of sleep with his fist supporting his cheek leaning against the counter. It wasn’t as busy as it usually was and Steve wasn’t sleeping much lately.

All his thoughts were running about you and what he would do to you. At night he would fist his cock and unload for the night. He muttered curse words underneath his breath how much he hated the affect he had on you.

On the other hand, you were doing the same thing thinking about him and how his fingers would feel inside of you, how his hand would feel on your throat and how his cock would feel buried deep inside of you. 

The door opened and Steve parked up seeing that it was you that walked in. He wiped the corner of his mouth of any sign of drool and laid his palms on the counter. 

“ Hey there sunshine” he greeted you. Your eyebrow raised in question at the new nickname which was weird since he never used it before.

“ Are you sick, Harrington?” You asked coming up to the counter. His mouth was a jar as he eyed you. It was like his eyes turned into big hearts as he stared at you. Your hand reached out to touch his forehead to feel if he had a temperature. He had a love sick temperature. 

“ I’m not sick, but you know what would fix me all up?” He asked, a smirk appearing on his face. You were scared to ask. He answered his own question anyways knowing you weren’t going to ask him any time soon.

“ We can kick Robin from the back and I can show you what your really missing” he wiggled his eyebrows. The door in the back slide opened to reveal Robin.

“ I can hear you, dingus” her face peeked up seeing it was you who he was talking to you. 

“ Hey there Y/N” she greeted you, “ What brings you here? Trying to finally get into dingus’s pants? As much as I don’t like hearing it but you two need to get it over with. It’s getting real tiring of you two” she points between the two of you. 

“ Yeah, you two don’t ever stop looking at each other and lingering touching is tiring” you turned your head seeing Dustin sitting in the booth. “ Hello to you to, Henderson” you greet him. He sends you a smile, “ Buckley.” 

“ So what do you say we ship on my boat in the back? Let me be your captain” Steve tips his sailer hat at you. 

You chuckled and leaned in causing his breath to hitch and his eyes widen. He licked his bottom lip in anticipation thinking you were going to kiss him but too his luck you weren’t. 

“ You wish you landed someone like me, Harrington” you grabbed onto the front of his shirt and brushed your lips against his own. Teasing was your game.

You played it well and it looks like Steve was melting in front of you. “Be a good boy and get me two scoops of my favorite ice cream” You let him go causing him to stumble back against the machine that’s behind him. His mouth was a jar. He blinked his eyes not believe what just happened. 

“ Chop Chop, Harrington” he swallowed the lump in his throat as he knocked over a few things before getting a cup and his scooper from his shorts.

You watch his hands shook as he leaned into the open window where the ice cream was held and watched as the small edge of his tongue peeked out from his lips as he focused getting your scoops for you. 

“ I don’t have all day, Steven” his eyes glanced over to you with a glare. 

 “ That’s not my name, but I could help you remember if if you want to” he pulled away with a smirk as he handed over the ice cream cone in his hands. Your hand reached out to take it but he shook his head.

“ Ah, Ah, Ah. What’s my name?” He asked. 

“ Can you give me my ice cream, Harrington?” He made a “tsk sound” with a shook of his head.

“ Steve” you muttered his name with annoyance in your tone. He handed you the ice cream and your fingers brushed against his. 

“ You two are so gross” Robin says as she’s been watching the interaction.

“ Get a room you two” Dustin says. “ You are so gross” he adds. 

“ Thank you” you tell Steve handing him the money. 

“ You’re welcome” he says and takes the money from you but not before sending you a wink.

He hasn’t noticed it at first what you were doing but you still were standing there.

It wasn’t until he started to turn around after washing his scooper noticing the way you were licking the ice cream. He choked on his spit and his eyes grew wide at the scent in front of him. His shorts grew tight at the sight of you.

You were licking the ice cream slowly and making eye contact with him.

You knew what you were doing and it was driving him crazy.  He muttered underneath his breath some words as he rushed to the back. Robin walked a minute later, “ That was rude. You know?” She glanced over at you with a roll of her eyes.

“ You can stop doing that. He’s gone now” you shrugged and stepped aside since a customer was behind you now and you didn’t want to hold up the line.

Steve was in the back pacing back and forth and threw his hat against the wall and closed his eyes. He breathed deeply though his nose not believe how much he wanted you. He could of taken you on top of the counter but then everyone would watch. He wasn’t the one for sharing. 

“ God dammit” he muttered to himself. You were going to be the death of him. 

It’s been a long week and Steve couldn’t help himself as his thoughts yet again ran over and he wanted to run to the bathroom to fist his cock once again.

You’ve been to Scoops three times this week and it was driving him crazy how much he wanted to be deeply inside of you. He craved your touch, the sounds you’d made, he wondered if you like being called a good girl.

He wondered what your favorite position was and he wondered what your mouth would feel like around his cock. 

“ Dingus!” Earth to dingus!” Robin shouted and waved her hands in front of Steve who snapped out of his thoughts as he glanced over at her.

“ What?” He asked with his hands on his hips. 

“ You were too lost in there” she pointed to her own forehead and then at him. 

“ Sorry, I haven’t been sleeping much” he lied. He quickly looked away so that Robin didn’t know he was lying to her. 

“ I need you to go to my house and get something for me. I forgot it and really needed for work” Steve gives her a look like are you kidding me. 

“ What is so important that you want me to go get it?” He asked. 

“ Steve” she says. He shakes his head as he takes off his hat, “ No. You’ll live without it. I’m going on break” he says as he walks into the back.

Robin sighs in frustration thinking her plan would of worked but it doesn’t.

She huffs to herself muttering how much of a dingus Steve is to herself. Robin had to leave earlier, her dad was picking her up from work but Steve had noticed she left her notebook that he usually sees in her bag.

It was her band notebook. She was going to need it for tomorrow at school.

“ Only you” he mumbles to himself. He rolled his head around as he stretched and took the notebook in his hands as he closed up. He was going to drop it on the way home.

He didn’t mind making the stop. When he arrived at your house, he expected Robin to answer the door or you to answer the door but you both didn’t look like you were there.

Your mothers car wasn’t in the driveway but your car was.

He hummed to himself as he looked through the window of the living room seeing no sight of you or Robin. He took a step back to look at your bedroom window seeing the curtain shut meaning you either didn’t want to be disturbed or you weren’t home.

He rose his fist and knocked on the door and waited on the balls of his feet for someone to answer the door. 

Steve glanced at his watch to see the time and it was getting later. All he wanted to do was take a shower, get in bed and think about you while fisting his cock.

He ran a hand down his tired face as he tried to reach for the door knob to see if it was unlocked. It was. He pushed the door opened as he stepped into the dark home.

“ Hello?” He called out thinking he was getting a response. But nothing came back to him, not even a whisper. Steve decided he was going to go to Robin’s room and drop the notebook off without her or anyone knowing he was here.

He circled the stairs where he knew Robin’s room would be. He has been in the house a few times to know how to get around. He knew where you room was too.

He paused at a step as he heard a noise. It sounded like a moan but he wasn’t too sure.

As he got closer to the top of the stairs, it got louder and clearer. All the goosebumps in his body ran up and down his arms as he heard it was coming from your room.

His eyes grew wide as saucers and he swallowed the lump in his throat. His feet started to move as he got closer and closer to the door. His feet were planted near your bedroom door and there was a small crack through the door that he could make an outline of you.

You were laying on the bed with your fingers buried deep inside your pussy. Two fingers from what he could tell.

Your legs were wide open while the other hand was pinching your nipples.

His mouth dropped opened at the sight of you. 

“ Steve” you moaned out, “ just like that” you moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure. His cock twitched in his pants hearing you moan his name out.

He didn’t know you wanted him the same way he did. He watched as you continued to pleasure yourself, watching as your hand that played with your nipple got down passed your stomach to circle your clit. You kept gasping and moaning his name. 

“ I’m so close, do you want me to cum?  It’s all for you” you moaned. The notebook that was in Steve’s hand dropped on the ground with a small noise.

The noise caused your eyebrows to knit together pausing to listen to see it was Robin who came back with your dad. You waited a few moments to listen for any sound.

Steve stood frozen with his eyes widen In fear that you were going to open your eyes and see he was being a perv by watching you. But his hand cupped his cock in his pants and massaged it as he watched you continue and add a finger.

He wanted to walk in and have a taste for himself. He wanted to take your fingers out, suck them to taste how good you tasted and then devour you with his tongue. 

You looked so beautiful like this to him. 

He could feel himself pre cum in his pants as he continued to watch.

“ Oh Steve” you moaned, “ I like the way your mouth feels” his eyes widen at your words.

He never knew you liked to be talked dirty too. He smirked but unbuckled his pants and took his cock out of his boxers as his hand began to pump his cock. He started off slow and went faster to match your pace. 

“ Do you want me to make a mess?” Steve nodded his head standing outside of your bedroom door like he was answering you but you didn’t know he was there. It was exciting to him.

“ How bad do you want my cum, Steve?” You asked continued to talk with your eyes closed imagining Steve eating you out. You curled your fingers feeling yourself getting closer and closer as your moans got louder. 

“ Fuck” Steve mumbled to himself feeling his stomach began to tie in a knot. He was going to cum soon. He liked that he was going to cum with you. He watches as your back arches with every moan. 

“ Steve!” You screamed out as you squirt on your sheets. Something that Steve dreamed about that you could do and here you were proving it to him.

You had soaked your sheet and Steve was in purse bliss. This was like his dream. One of them.

You took your fingers out of your pussy that was dripping off your cum. Your fingers glistering with your juice making Steve’s mouth water as he sped up his pace. He took his shirt in his mouth as he moaned, summing .

He panicked seeing his cum shoot out on your bedroom door. “ Shit” he muttered to himself.

You weren’t paying attention to the new noises that was loud enough for anyone to hear that walked into your house. You were too busy shocked on how much you came and your sheet were soaked. 

You walked into the bathroom to clean yourself up, not noticing the pair of eyes watching through the crack as he scrambled to put his pants up and zip himself up.

You didn’t notice how he slid off his shirt and with panic wiped the cum off your door.

He didn’t bother to put it back on as he raced downstairs and out the door. He didn’t want to get caught and at the sound of his car, it caught your attention.

You moved the curtain away to see what was happening outside. Your eyebrow knitted together in confusion on who’s car was it that you heard.

Shrugging to yourself, you headed out the door to get new sheets when you felt something underneath your foot. A notebook. Your sister’s notebook. 

What was it doing here? 

You leaned down to pick it up and turn it over expecting to see something and you found nothing. Weird, you thought and headed to her room to drop it on her bed. 

Steve grip on the steering wheel tighten as he pressed on the gas heading home. His mind raced of what he saw tonight. 

He knew now he had to have you. He had to taste you. He needed it. 

[she-is-juniper]

Put It Into Practice — Steve Harrington x Reader (chapter one)

Pairing: Scoops Ahoy!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Rating (by chapter): M (Mature) (next chapter will be Explicit!)

Summary: “King Steve” Harrington had been the subject of swooning for every girl in their right mind back in high school. But when his sexual dexterity comes into question the summer after graduation, Steve is not about to let his reputation become marred quite so easily. Luckily, Steve is offered the help of his new friend—to give him advice, a few pointers, and maybe a bit of healthy practice…

Word Count (by chapter): 6k

Content: cursing, healthy banter, a teeny bit of angst, setting y'all up for some real good smut to come

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is not intended to be taken as truth or fact. I do not claim to own Stranger Things or any other affiliated names or fictional events. Other details, such as names, locations, and events, are also fictionalized. 

A/N: This is my first fanfic in 2 years! I'm new to the Stranger Things fandom, so show me some love, feedback, follows, etc? 🥺 (P.S. New followers will have dibs for REQUESTS which I will open very soon!!)

I nearly forgot—thank you hugely to @o-holynight for reading through this fic for me when I needed some assistance!! ♡

READ CHAPTER 2 NOW!!

On a quieter-than-usual summer weekday at the Starcourt Mall, Steve Harrington looks even more sullen than he usually does while slinging ice cream samples from behind the counter at Scoops Ahoy. As one of his closest friends, you’re well aware of the usual reasons for Steve’s insufferable moping—shitty job, shitty parents, shitty sex life—but today, something about the lifeless droop to his eyes indicates there’s something else going on. 

“What happened to you, Harrington?” you ask, pulling off your work cap as you walk into the ice cream parlor.

Steve looks up at you from the cash register, but he glances down to resume counting cash in lieu of his usual greeting of a smile. You frown. During your part-time shifts at The Great Cookie, you typically spend your fifteen minute work breaks visiting with Steve and Robin—ergo, teaming up with Robin to poke fun at Steve. It’s all in good fun, though, and Steve typically matches your jests with some good-natured teasing of his own.

Not today, though. “I’m not in the mood to hang out today, Y/N,” Steve grumbles—a sound not uncharacteristic for him, yet somehow even grumblier than usual.

You ignore him, sauntering through the empty parlor and propping your elbows against the glass counters above the ice cream tubs. “What? Drop another banana boat on a customer?”

Steve winces, likely at the memory of the aforementioned fumble from last week, still avoiding your eyes. “Okay, first of all, Gretchen Jarrell totally made me spill her order on purpose so she could complain to my manager and get her ice cream for free.”

A voice chimes in from behind the window to the parlor’s back room. “I’d pay good money to watch you drop another banana boat down Gretchen Jarrell’s cleavage again, Steve.”

“Shut up about it, Robin!” Steve hollers back at his coworker. He turns to speak to you again. “And second of all, I told you I’m not in the mood, so can’t you find somewhere else to loom today?”

“No way,” you protest. “Where else would I go on my break?”

“I dunno. A table at the food court. The Gap. Take a lap around JCPenney for all I care. Just not here.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell’s got your panties all twisted up,” you say, leaning further over the glass counter to flick his shoulder. Steve grimaces and held his arm, glaring at you.

“Ow,” he hisses. “And don’t say panties. Who says panties? That’s gross.”

“You’re such a baby.” You aren’t about to take no for an answer. You like hanging out with Steve, and you know he likes hanging out with you, too. You and Steve have known each other for years all throughout high school—through the likes of Tommy H. and Carol, both of whom you’d effectively de-friended a few months ago, similar to Steve. But it wasn’t until you and Steve got summer jobs at Starcourt this summer that you started becoming close friends, along with Robin Buckley, who you used to play trumpet with in middle school.

Before you can pester Steve further about his sour mood, a group of teenagers come in, donning shopping bags and giggling loudly. Steve’s face suddenly contorts, his eyes shifting right and left as if he were scouring the parlor for a way out. It was too late, though, and the girls flit up to the counter, a wash of bright colors and perfume. You shifted down the counter to give them space, leaning against the side wall and watching.

“Hi, Steve,” one of the girls, red curls ablaze, says in a mock-flirtatious voice.

“H–hi,” he stammers back. 

“Aren’t you gonna ask me what I want to order? Or are you bad at this job, too?” the girl at the front croons, and all the girls behind her titter with laughter. Something about the way she emphasized this job piqued your curiosity. Same as Robin, who peeks out from the window confusedly and meets your gaze. You just shrug.

Steve was starting to turn red at the cheeks. “I–yeah–what can I get for you?”

The red-headed girl taps a manicured finger to her chin and pretends to peruse the tubs of ice cream. “Hmm… I’ll take a scoop of sugar plum, please.”

Steve scans the ice cream flavors in the refrigerated display counter, his whole body fraught with tension. “Sugar plum? Uh…I don’t think we have—”

“What’s the matter?” another girl says, sneering. “Can’t find it, Steve?”

The gaggle of girls bursts into full-on laughter now. Your mouth falls open in disbelief, as does Robin’s. Steve, however, just closes his eyes in humiliation.

“Maybe you need some lessons, Steve,” Redhead drawls, smacking her gum. 

“Yeah,” another pipes up. “Wouldn’t wanna leave any more girls feeling disappointed.”

“Oh, my, god,” Robin whispers, her mouth still agape. Realization starts sinking in for you: they’re not talking about ice cream.

“Alright, alright, joke’s over,” Steve all but growls at the girls. They don’t need to be told twice; their work here is seemingly done. Still laughing at Steve, they mosey out of the parlor, gone just as soon as they came.

“Oh my god,” Robin repeats. Steve’s jaw is set and his mouth pressed into a hard line as he watches the door where the girls departed. 

“Steve…” you begin. “What did you do?”

“Can we just drop this?” Steve sighs.

“Drop it?” Robin says, emerging through the kitchen doors. “Steve. Those girls just came in here and announced to the world, by means of a cryptic ice cream metaphor, that you are bad at sex. We’re not gonna let that one go so easily.”

“I’m not bad at sex, Robin!” Steve barks. Robin just raises an eyebrow. 

“Those girls seem to think otherwise,” you tell him. “Did she really ask you for sugar plum ice cream?” You snort, and Robin bites her lip in an attempt not to smile. You and Robin share a look and start giggling, but the daggers shooting from Steve’s eyes effectively silence your laughter, and you immediately feel a little bad. 

“Can we just get back to work already and pretend like this never happened?” Steve pleaded.

“Absolutely not,” Robin says. “I implore you, Steve, to share with the class who exactly it was—among your numerous female conquests as of late,” she adds sarcastically, “that you seem to have disappointed oh so dearly?”

Steve opens his mouth to protest but, with a heaving sigh, he says, “Fine. I’ll tell you. But for starters, I don’t even know those girls, or why they knew about…about…” 

“...about how bad you are at sex?” I guess.

“I’m not bad at sex!!” he insists again. “It’s just…I’m just… I’m… Maybe I’m not so good at…”

You and Robin stare at him, unblinkingly, waiting.

“...at a certain…element…of sex…maybe.”

Now it’s your turn to say, “Oh, my, god.” It was all making sense. The sugar plum innuendo, the can’t find it joke, and leaving girls disappointed…

Steve Harrington—King Steve Harrington, Steve “The Hair” Harrington, Steve-Who-Any-Girl-In-Her-Right-Mind-Wanted-To-Bang-In-High-School Harrington, your friend Steve Harrington…

…Steve Harrington, your secret crush—something you would never admit to anyone in a million years and have a hard time admitting to even yourself…

…is, evidently, bad at oral sex.

“Can you please stop saying that?!” Steve pleads, just as Robin was about to say “oh my god” again. “You two are so obnoxious, I knew I never should have said anything—”

“Okay, okay,” you say. “I’m sorry, okay? Robin and I are sorry for laughing. Robin, tell Steve we’re sorry.”

“We’re sorry, Steve.” Robin’s wide eyes flit over to you for the briefest of moments, and you’re all of a sudden transported back to your middle school days, passing notes and exchanging glances with Robin and trying not to giggle in the middle of band class. 

“Whatever,” he mutters.

You study him. He somehow looks even more dejected than he had a few moments ago. Every one of his features seems to be drooping. Even his hair —or what you could see of it poking out from his “Scoops Ahoy” hat—looks like it’s drooping.

“It’s just that we were…a bit surprised,” you explain.

At least, you felt surprised. Robin, in turn, chortles. “I’m not surprised, not one bit, that our friend Suave Steve here doesn’t know where the clit is—”

“Ahhh-t-t-t-t,” he hisses and waves a hand vehemently to cut her off. “I know where the—where the clit is, Robin! Will you stop ridiculing me? I swear to god, I will leave right now. This day absolutely sucks ass already, and I don’t need your shitty sense of humor to make it worse for me.”

The humor of the situation dissipates, leaving pity—and a touch of curiosity—in its wake. “I’m sorry those girls came in here like that,” you say genuinely.

“Yeah,” Robin agrees. “Jokes aside, that was…decidedly uncool of them. Who were they anyway?”

Inexplicably, Steve droops even more, hanging his head low. “Friends of Lisa R.’s,” he mopes.

Back in town for summer vacation from Notre Dame, Lisa R. is the latest subject of Steve’s romantic interest for the past few weeks. Having graduated from Hawkins High in the class just before yours and Steve’s, Lisa R. is older than the two of you by a year—and thus way out of Steve’s league, or so he insisted every time she came up in conversation and you urged Steve to ask her out. Last you’d heard from Steve about Lisa R. was that she agreed to see a movie with him over the weekend. Steve had been over the moon when he told you about it during your shift break last Friday—three days earlier.

“Steve,” you say. “What happened with you and Lisa R.?”

“Idon’twannatalkaboutit,” he mumbles.

“Spill, now,” Robin commands. “We’re not gonna stop pestering you about this until you do.”

“I—okay,” he gives in, looking around the store curtly although it’s completely devoid of customers again. “On Friday, I asked her to the movies Saturday night, right? We—”

“Which movie?” Robin cuts him off.

Steve gapes at her. “Does it matter?”

“Pertinently.”

“Fine, if you must know… We saw The Goonies.”

“The Goonies?! Steve!” Robin chides. “You took Lisa R. on a movie date to go see The Goonies? You’ve got to be kidding me.” She throws her hands to her head. “You’re hopeless. He’s hopeless, Y/N.”

“It’s a Steven Spielberg! It looked like a good movie!”

Knowing Steve’s inexplicable proclivity to befriend literal children, you want to make a joke about Steve not being able to resist a film about a band of preteen misfits. But you bite your tongue. “Back to the point,” you say, “how did the date go, Steve?”

“Believe it or not,” he starts, glaring pointedly at Robin, “It went good. Like, really good. Lisa R. said I was cool.” He starts to beam in excitement, but his smile falters. “The movie let out pretty late, so we went in my car after to talk, and, I dunno, hang out.”

He hesitates, and Robin urges him on with a circular motion of her hand.

“Anyway, things start to get, uh, pretty heated…” Steve’s skin reddens almost imperceptibly, except you notice in a heartbeat. You always notice. “And it’s going pretty well, until she…she asks me…”

“Spit it out,” Robin berates him. “Until she asks what, Steve?”

“God, will you just let me explain at my own goddamn pace? She asked me to…to go down on her.” Steve chokes out the words as if they were stuck in his throat. “And, uh…I guess I’d never really done that to a girl before. So I didn’t really know what…” Then, almost like he realizes his surroundings for the first time, Steve glances between you and Robin mortifyingly. “What am I doing? Why am I telling you two about my most embarrassing sexual encounter to date? Jesus Christ…”

You wish he wouldn’t feel so sheepish talking to you and Robin about these kinds of topics, but you can understand why he does. Two pretty girls interrogating the hell out of him after he’d just been publicly humiliated by Lisa R.’s friends? You’d feel embarrassed, too. 

You exchange a look with Robin, determining she’s thinking roughly the same thing. “Hey, we won’t tell anyone,” you reassure him.

“Yeah, your secret’s safe with us,” Robin adds.

Steve crinkles his nose, which you can’t help but find infuriatingly adorable. “Man, as if that even fucking matters anymore. Lisa R.’s already gone and told all her friends about how bad it was. Fuck,” he curses, ripping his hat off and running his hand through his hair. “This is so bad. My reputation is ruined. The whole town probably knows about it by now.”

“Um, probably not the whole town,” Robin consoles. “My parents haven’t caught wind of it yet, probably. Or Mr. Mundy the math teacher, it’s possible he doesn’t know—”

“You know what I mean,” Steve groans in exasperation.

You purse your lips, mulling over everything you’d just heard. Frankly, you’re more than a little shocked to learn that Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High and notoriously popular among the girls of every grade, had never gone down on a girl before.

Not even Nancy Wheeler, you realize with a start, his long-term girlfriend. Poor Nancy. But you regret that thought only a millisecond after thinking it. A man was more than his sexual ability, and as far as you could tell from getting to know him this summer, Steve was probably a pretty great boyfriend, all things considered. Especially after he grew up a bit and ended his friendship with Tommy H. and Carol like you had.

Regardless of it all, it’s clear that Steve’s ego got bruised from the whole experience, badly. You feel bad for Steve that his first experience with going down on a girl was with someone so immature as to go and gossip to her friends afterward about how bad it was—and for them to show up here where he works, just to make him feel even worse about it. Lisa R. sounds like an absolute bitch to you, same as her friends. Steve deserved better for that first experience…someone patient, someone willing to express her desires and guide him in the right direction.

Knowing Steve now—knowing his energy, his personality, his eagerness to impress the women he likes—you wonder how bad it could have actually been for Lisa R. Experience level aside, enthusiasm was half the battle, and you imagined Steve Harrington had enough of that to spare. He couldn’t have been that bad…

Then again, what could you possibly know about any of this? You’d only been in two flings before, and neither of those boys had particularly wowed you in the oral sex department.

As you are preoccupied by your thoughts, Robin and Steve have begun to vex each other again. “But the bigger question is, why are you so concerned about your stupid reputation?” Robin was saying. “You’re graduated now, Steve. There are better things to worry about.”

“Oh, sorry, you’re right, I’ll just suck it up and ignore the group of Lisa R.’s friends who just came in here and humiliated me in public for everyone to hear.”

“Literally no one else was in the store except for me and Y/N.”

“It’s the principle of it!” Steve exclaims. “Besides, that’s easy for you to say, coming from someone who doesn’t give a shit about anyone else’s opinions. And by the time you graduate, you’ll probably be well on your way out of Hawkins, on some kind of fancy nerd scholarship for being a multilingual, musically-talented band geek—”

You glance at your watch. “Shit. I have to go. My break’s over.”

Steve groans. “Don’t leave me here with just her, Y/N,” he says, jabbing his head toward Robin, who just sneers.

“Lighten up, dingus. You know you like being entertained by me.”

You throw your work cap back over your hair. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

The pair resume bickering without saying goodbye, but as you depart the parlor, you can’t help but glance back at Steve as he argues animatedly with Robin. He glances up at you for the briefest moment with those sad puppy eyes, and your stomach gives a little tug as a thought emerges:

You won’t be able to do much to restore King Steve Harrington’s reputation, but there is something you can do to help repair his ego.

————————————————

It’s a crazy thought—foolish, unhinged, and presumptuous—but it’s a thought you can’t stop thinking about for the whole day and most of your night. You really should just let it go, let Steve get over the whole Lisa R. thing and move on. But that single, crazy thought has completely permeated every inch of your mind.

The thought that you could teach Steve Harrington how to go down on a girl.

At first, the thought presented itself as a fantasy, more or less, that you kept replaying in your brain as the second half of your shift that day dragged on and on. Despite the knowledge that Steve was admittedly horrendously inexperienced, you found yourself fixated on the mental image of…of Steve perched in between your legs, his arms wrapped around your thighs, his mouth—

God, this needs to stop. I’m at work.

As the day progressed and you finally went home for the evening, the fantasy progresses, too, until it becomes less of a fantasy and more of a hypothetical notion. What if you did make a…proposition, for Steve? How would you even go about it? Hey, I know you mentioned the other day you were bad at oral sex, so why don’t you give it a go on me and I’ll give you some pointers? Gag. 

But would that really be such an outlandish proposal? Steve could certainly benefit from it, in more ways than one. He would gain experience, learn more about the elusive subtleties of the female body. In turn, he could mend his ego after such a disastrous experience with Lisa R. Not to mention, you realize with a laugh, you’d also be doing a service for all the girls to come after Lisa R., after you, by teaching him what it takes to pleasure a woman correctly. Plus, Steve’s a boy. You were basically offering him free, no-strings-attached sex. What’s not for him to like?

But were there really no strings attached? You’re not willing quite yet to fully consider that.

What would be in it for you? The obvious answer is, well…the deed itself. You’ve never actually come from a guy going down on you before, and frankly, you’re curious to know what it’s like. Assuming Steve did agree to practice going down on you, the obvious benefit to you as the recipient of said act was the potential for a world of pleasure. By Steve Harrington, no less, the boy you’ve been trying and failing to talk your way out of crushing on all summer. 

But Steve is your friend. If he went through with your proposition and didn’t succeed at repairing his ego (Worst Case Scenario #1)—or, worse, if he outright rejected your proposition altogether (Worst Case Scenario #2)—your friendship may never go back to the way it is now.

And all of it hinges greatly on one small detail: whether Steve could see you in that way, in a sexual way, or if his friendship with you is strictly platonic. The way things are now between the two of you, it’s hard to tell. He doesn’t act nervous or jittery around you the way he does around the cute girls who come into the ice cream parlor while he’s working. And while he’s always been friendly toward you, offering a lopsided smile nearly every time he sees you, it’s always been only that—just a smile. Not looking your body up and down, no sultry smirking, nothing glaringly obvious to indicate that he’s ever thought of you in that way. 

Despite all the potential ways for this to completely derail your friendship, your fantasy-turned-hypothetical-notion begins to morph into a plan. You decide you’ll test the waters with Steve, gauge his interest—both in you and in learning from you. The plan involves getting Steve to hang out with you after work, which is something you and he have only done once before. And it was with Robin, in which the three of you had picked out a movie from Family Video to watch at Robin’s parents’ home. Would Steve think it’s weird if you ask him to hang out after work?

If you never try, you’ll never know. 

The following day, you return to Scoops Ahoy once again on your shift break. Steve’s mopiness has evolved into a general aloofness toward his menial job, evidenced by the halfhearted way he wipes down the glass windows at the front of the store. 

Sitting at your favorite bench and licking the scoop of complimentary ice cream you’d haggled from Robin (in exchange for a free cookie at The Great Cookie), you watch Steve clean the windows, calculating your next words. As soon as Robin at the cash register finishes up with a transaction and disappears into the kitchen, you decide to make your move. 

“Alright, Steve, I’ve had enough of your moping,” you say lightheartedly. 

“I’m not moping,” he retorts.

You crumble up a napkin from the dispenser on the table and chuck it at his head. He finally looks over at you, miffed. “You are. At first I felt for you, but now it’s just downright pitiful the way you’re feeling bad for yourself. And annoying.”

“Well, excuse me for annoying you with my—with my very reasonable reaction to my reputation going to shit,” he whines. 

“Ah, yes,” you say, hopping out of your seat to pace nonchalantly behind him as you talk. “Your dear reputation. King Steve Harrington.” You pause, taking another lick of your ice cream. “Can’t have the womenfolk of Hawkins possibly thinking you’re bad at anything, now, can he?”

Steve has stopped cleaning the windows long enough to glare at you. But his eyes drop almost imperceptibly to your mouth as you eat your sweet treat. “Listen, I don’t expect you or Robin to get it,” Steve says defensively. “It’s just—yeah, okay, I care a bit about it, okay? So what? Sue me for caring about how I’m not everything I used to be.” With a huff, he turns back to the window, scrubbing it a little harder than necessary with the cleaning rag. “I used to be the Popular Steve Harrington. Used to have influence, friends. The Sports Star Steve Harrington. Now I’m just Washed Up Steve Harrington, forced by his dad to sling ice cream for three bucks an hour, no hope for the future—”

“Okay, I get it, your life’s a drag,” you cut him off. Clearly he’s got a chip on his shoulder that’s bigger than just the Lisa R. problem. ”But it doesn’t have to be.”

“What do you mean?”

 “What I mean is, we gotta do something to cheer you up.” Steve watches you as you pluck another napkin from the dispenser and pull out a pen from the pocket of your work apron. You scribble down your address onto the napkin. “What do you say we hang out after our shifts are over, tonight? My parents are out of town. We can—we can order Pizza Hut, pop in a movie. And I’ll have some booze.” Luckily you have a good friend over the age of 21 who’d be able to hook you up with liquor.

“A party?”

“No, not a party, just two friends decompressing after a long day of work.” You glance toward the kitchen in the direction of Robin. “And maybe this can be a chance for you to get a little break from Robin… I can tell she gets under your skin sometimes.” You like hanging out with Robin, so you feel kind of bad about purposely excluding Robin, but Steve acts relieved. 

“You have no idea,” he laughs. “Alright. That sounds…that sounds nice.”

It’s a date, you think. But you just fold the napkin and approach Steve. You pull at the sailoresque collar of his work uniform and tuck the napkin against the skin of his chest, trying not to focus for too long on the dusting of chest hair. Or the way you feel sparks flying at the brush of your fingers against it. “Come by at 8?”

You weren’t positive how Steve was going to react to your proximity—you hadn’t ever gotten so close to him before. His shoulders tense, and he blinks about ten times in a second. “Y—yeah, sounds good, Y/N,” he chokes out. “I’ll stop by Family Video on the way out.”

You smile and leave him without another word to return to your job, and you can feel his gaze boring into the back of your head as you walk away. The napkin-in-the-collar move was unplanned. Was that too obvious? you wonder. Or not obvious enough?

So you turn to look back at him, just like yesterday. He’s still staring at you. You give him another coy smile, and he runs a nervous hand through his hair. 

Just right, you decide. 

————————————————

Your movie night with Steve was in full swing. You want to kick yourself for not taking action sooner to hang out with him outside of work. After four drinks (Bacardi and Cokes), a box of pizza (pepperoni), and an hour into your second movie (Fast Times at Ridgemont High), you and Steve were sufficiently drunk and happily laughing your asses off together. Laughing about the movie, about the funny things you’d seen at Starcourt Mall that week, about stupid memories from high school, about each other. 

The latest subject of your humor was a memory of the time Steve had been giving a speech at a pep rally his sophomore year and tripped directly over a band kid’s sousaphone. 

“You’re remembering it all wrong!” Steve groaned, throwing his hands up to his hair. 

“I think I’m remembering it perfectly clear,” you laugh, bumping your shoulder into his. You are seated next to Steve on your couch in front of the TV in your parents’ basement. Both your and Steve’s legs are resting on the small ottoman in front of the couch, your feet so close together they’re almost touching. They’d already brushed together a few times throughout the night; you can’t tell if it had been by accident or on purpose. “It was the end-of-semester pep rally, you were giving a motivational speech to the student body as the new ‘co-captain of the basketball team’,” —you sneer at him— “and you tripped directly over Helen Blackshaw’s big tuba.”

“No, no, no,” he retorts, sitting up straighter as if it would strengthen his argument. You thought it was hilarious. “First of all, it wasn’t the end-of-semester pep rally, it was the beginning-of-semester pep rally. And I wasn’t giving a motivational speech, I was running for class president. And lastly, I only tripped on Helen’s tuba because Joshua Gossman purposely pushed it in front of me. Remember Joshua? He had it out for me.”

You take another sip of your Coke-and-Bacardi and roll your eyes. “He had it out for you because you tried to flirt with his girlfriend, the flute player with the blond hair.”

“Okay, wow, like I would have ever flirted with a band geek, gross.”

“My recollection of you from high school would prove you wrong,” you jest. “You flirted with everyone.”

Except for you. You and Steve ran in different crowds and barely spoke, even when you were mutually friends with Tommy H. and Carol for a time. Even then, you and Steve hadn’t truly gotten to know each other until after graduation. Frankly, before you’d befriended the guy, you’d wanted nothing to do with him; you’d thought he was kind of a dick. You see now that he’s changed, for the better. But as disinterested as you’d been in King Steve Harrington, he’d been equally as disinterested in you.

Your heart sinks a bit. What if Steve truly had never thought of you as anything other than friends…never found you attractive, never found himself ever secretly wondering about you in bed, nothing remotely romantic or sexual in the slightest?

“Oh, come on, not everyone,” Steve says, pouring himself another drink. It looks more like a cup of straight rum with a tiny splash of coke. 

“If it moved and had boobs, you flirted. Band geeks notwithstanding.”

Maybe you were imagining it, but he seems to glance down from your face for only the briefest second—to your chest. Oop. “Yeah, well, not like it matters anymore. I was a different person back then. Way cooler to the ladies than I am now.”

“Steve.” You sit up as straight as he’s sitting and give him a level glare. “You talk about yourself like you’re some kind of…shell of who you used to be. It wasn’t that long ago.” His face contorts, so you quickly add, “I didn’t mean that as an insult. I just mean, I don’t think you’re washed up just because you work at an ice cream shop, or because you’re not going to Tech next year.”

Steve furrows his brows. “Right…I’m washed up because everyone thinks I’m bad in bed.”

“Does it matter what they think?”

“You sound like Robin, now.”

“But do you really care, though?”

“Well, yeah, I’d like to go to work without pissing my pants every time a group of girls comes in, ‘cause I’m worried that they’re gonna publically call me out for being a bad lover.”

“Ignore the girls,” you say with an encouraging shove to his arm. “They’re jerks.“

“They’re jerks,” Steve agrees. But he’s still frowning. 

“What is it?” you ask. 

Steve sighs. “Well…I guess it doesn’t really matter what the rumors say. But… it does bug me that I wasn’t good at…you know. That I left someone feeling disappointed.”

Ah. Bingo. You hadn’t been sure where this conversation was going. But now that you’re here, right on topic, you feel confident about segueing into your proposition. 

Except, in the heat of the moment, your heart starting to race with nervousness, you fail entirely to achieve a smooth transition. “What if you got someone to teach you?” you blurt. 

Steve laughs. “What?”

“I mean—” you stammer. Fuck. “I just mean, if you wanted to get better at…at that part of hooking up, maybe you should find someone who could teach you how to do it.”

Steve raises his eyebrows as he considers. “I dunno,” he says. “I mean, who could I even ask? I’m not really friends with any guys from school anymore who talk about those kind of things. Maybe Tommy H., but fuck that guy. Jesus, my only friends now are literally children, and I can’t talk to Henderson about that, that’d be really gross and probably illegal—”

“No, you dumbass,” you say, forcing out a chuckle to give the illusion of casualness. “Not a guy.”

He looks at you like you’re insane. “What, then? A girl? You think I should ask another girl about…that?” He shakes his head. “No. Absolutely not. I will not humiliate myself like that. Why would I do that if I could just, I don’t know, go to an adult store and pick up a pamphlet and watch a porno or something?”

You crinkle your nose. “Those movies are so unrealistic. Besides…that’s not what I mean.” 

“A girl? Really? Who would I even ask for advice about that? Robin? You?”

You tilt your head at him, unblinking, urging him to understand. He stares back with a blank expression. In a blink, realization floods his face. 

“Oh.” 

Steve says nothing more, just stares at you with wide brown eyes. A long moment passes. You think your heart might explode. 

At last, Steve shifts uncomfortably and says, “Are you saying that you…that you’d…”

“I’m saying maybe I could teach you.” You finish his sentence with words so soft they’re nearly imperceptible over the noise of the movie on the television you both had entirely forgotten about. Saying it aloud sounded so stupid now. How could you teach someone to go down on you when you’ve never even had success before with anyone else in the first place? You were probably the worst pick for Steve’s teacher. 

Steve is reduced to silence again, a baffled expression etched permanently on his face. He tries to inhale, but his breath seems to get caught in his throat. 

You can feel the flood of words filling your brain, your mouth, and finally spilling over your tongue. “But just as friends, nothing more,” you gush. “I was just thinking, maybe it’d help if you had someone who could help give you advice, tell you what works and what doesn’t. Someone you trust, who could get practice with. As, y’know, friends.”

No response. You start to get anxious. “You know what—never mind,” you gabble, starting to stand up. “I shouldn’t have said that. That was really stupid of me.” Of course Steve wouldn’t agree to this. You were delusional. “Forget I ever said anything—”

“Wait, wait, Y/N.” Steve grabs your wrist before you can stand up from the couch. “Slow down. Just…let me try to understand what you’re saying.” You hesitate, but after a moment you relax into his touch and settle on the couch again. Steve hasn’t looked away from you, and you turn your head to meet his gaze and can’t look away. “You’re saying you’d want me to…practice…with you?”

“If you want,” you whisper. 

Steve looks dumbfounded. He opens his mouth to respond, then closes it. Suddenly, you become very, very nervous. More nervous than you’ve ever been with any guy. “Why?” he finally asks. 

“Why what?”

“Why would you want to let me…” He doesn’t finish his thought, just running his hands through his rugged hair again. Then he speaks again suddenly, stammering over his words. “I-I don’t get it. Why would you want me to practice on you? I don’t have any experience, Y/N. Aren’t you worried that it wouldn’t be good, for you?”

You remind yourself to stop chewing on your cheek before it bleeds. “I mean, isn’t that the point? You’re inexperienced, so you could get the practice you need to get good.”

“Get practice…with you. On you.” Steve doesn’t even hide it now, the way he looks down at your body. But it’s not with desire, or eagerness. Panic floods his features. “Y/N, I don’t know…”

“I just thought maybe I could help you,” you say, words coming out in a rush again. “It's just, I just saw how upset you were about what happened with Lisa R. and everything and I thought—I dunno, Steve, she seems like an asshole, she seems like the worst kind of person to do that with for the first time. And you deserve to have someone who talks to you and communicates, who can help you figure it out.” You have to pause to suck in a breath. “And I guess I was just thinking that person could be…me.”

As you say the words, his whole body seems to have tensed up. “Um, I…” he stutters and glances around the room. And suddenly, he jolts up on his feet. “Listen, Y/N. I don’t think—I don’t think I can do that. Not with…you.” 

Your skin burns with heat. “Oh…Oh. That’s okay, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s not that you’re—” he says at the same time, but you’re talking over each other, and you both stop talking simultaneously. A static tension fills the space between you. When you say nothing, he points to the door and frowns apologetically at you. “I gotta—I gotta go, Y/N.”

“Oh—yeah, no, I get it,” you say, feigning nonchalance. You get up, too, and walk with Steve up the basement stairs without another word. The tension in the room is stagnant and unbearable.

When you and Steve reach your front door, he turns to look in your direction but doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t even worry about it,” you cut him off, waving a hand. “Forget I ever said anything?”

“I…” One look at Steve, and you know he’s not going to forget about this anytime soon. Fuck. Worst Case Scenario #2 just came true. But at last, he replies, “Yeah, no, of course.”

“Are you good to drive?” you ask, referring to the alcohol.

“Oh yeah, I’m good.”

“See you tomorrow at Starcourt?” You offer him a small smile.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

As the door shuts behind him, your parents’ house has never felt so silent and empty. You squeeze your eyes shut and stand there by the front door for a long time until you feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins finally dissipate enough to move. 

Well, that was a fucking disaster.

There’s not much to do but clean up the basement and get ready for bed, even though it’s only 10:30. Your parents won’t be back until the morning, so you would have stayed up and enjoyed having the house to yourself for the night. But you don’t feel like doing anything but lie in the fetal position in your bed for a long time to mentally chastise yourself for forever ruining your friendship with Steve. 

You clean up downstairs, shower, and brush your teeth in a daze. But just as your head hits the pillow, a gentle knock sounds from the front door.

On high alert, you peer out of your room and sneak down the stairs. You’d never usually answer the door this late at night while home alone, but something tells you to go look through the peephole.

It’s Steve.

His eyes widen at the sight of you in your pajamas as you swing open the front door. “Steve?” you ask.

“Sorry, I know it’s late,” he says. His long hair is somehow even more mussed than usual, indicating just how much he must have been running his hand through it in the past hour. “It’s just…”

You squint against the porch light. “What is it?”

He hesitates again, but finally says, “Just as friends, right?”

He’s referring to your proposition. “Just friends,” you reassure him breathlessly.

“Good. I’ve…thought about it.” For the first time since you’ve known him, Steve’s eyes rake over your body with a new emotion behind them: lust. “I’m down.”

Author's Note: Howdy! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my fanfic "Put It To Practice" 😌 This is a big deal for me, as it is my first full-length fanfic in over two years! My name is Juniper and I'm thrilled to be here in the Stranger Things fandom. I'm trying to meet more of you and make some new friends. So I'd love it if you could give me a follow and reach out to say 'hello' via my ask box!

I'm excited to publish the next segment of "Put It To Practice" for you all. I write fanfiction for free; and my only request for repayment is a genuine expression of your thoughts, opinions, likes/dislikes, and predictions about the story. Whether it's simply a "Wow, I loved it!", a keyboard smash, a series of convoluted thoughts in the tags, or even a full-out review, please know that any and all feedback is welcome!

If you wish to be tagged in the next part, please let me know via my ask box!

Much love ❤︎, Juniper

NEXT CHAPTER

[lovemesomeeddiemunson]

Pocket Dice

Summary: You teach Steve to play D&D. In return he takes it upon himself to set you up with a certain Dungeon Master.

F! Reader Insert, 4995 Words

Warning:  Minor ST spoilers ahead. Food mentions. (Underage) drinking. Drug use. (It’s only marijuana dad!) Hinted at sexual situations. Reader is written as wearing red lipstick and dresses very 80s punk. Reader also listens to heavy metal in this and plays D&D because you’re cool peoples’. Takes place some time after Volume 5. (I took the liberty of deciding that Eddie lives and the world gets saved, and I offer no apologies for that.)

Authors Note:  This is the third Eddie fic I started writing in recent days - thought I’d share since it hasn’t taken on a life of its own like the other two. No sequel planned/in the works, but never say never. Also, I am always looking for inspo, so I will absolutely take requests for one-shots, blurbs, and head canons. If you don’t have an idea and just wanna chat, that’s cool too! I promise I won't bite.

After defeating evil a final time, after closing the portals, after reversing the poisoning of the town, Steve should have been happy to retire from saving the world.

He should have been grateful for the monotony life had become filled with - that there wasn’t a new threat on the horizon. But grateful was not what Steve was feeling.

The truth was, Steve was unnerved.

Not only was there nothing for him to do during peacetime, but in addition to that, his brothers and sisters in arms started to slip away, keeping in touch less and less.

Nancy had put the final nail in the coffin when it came to them after she graduated, and moved away with Johnathan.

He still worked at the video store with Robin - but she had gotten a girlfriend who adored her, and while Steve was happy for her, she was less and less available for their old shenanigans.

There were the kids of course, but while Steve had a hard time pinning them down, they religiously met up with Eddie every Sunday. Now that he too had finally graduated, they played D&D outside of their high school Hellfire club. 

Which, frankly, Steve had never understood…but now that his days were mostly empty, his friends were scattered, and he hadn’t had any heroic moments in ages, it was no wonder he ended up where he did.

In a bookstore one town over, Steve spends way too much time meticulously combing through covers. 

So much so that the cute girl working behind the counter - you -  takes pity on him.

“Do you need help with anything?” You ask sweetly, in a tone Steve knows well to be a fake customer service voice.

“Sorry I - I don’t know where to start. Were you guys trying to close?” He admitted, sounding pitiful.

“Ten minutes ago.” You chuckle lightly, causing Steve to flush. 

Running a finger along the many spines before them, you tease. “I’ve locked us both in, so you might want to make a decision soon, before we starve to death.” 

“Sorry!” He says again, hands heavy with the weight of so many books. “I just, really don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“So you mentioned.” You offer him a warm smile. “Let’s see if I can help…uh, what’s your name?”

“Steve.” He answers.

“Steve. I’m Y/N, at your service. Are you looking to get a gift for someone?”  You ask helpfully.

“No I…It’s for me. I was hoping to learn how to play.” He flushed when he admitted it. 

“And you’ve never played before?” You ask, non-judgmentally. 

He shakes his head. “I have…a passable vocabulary.” Never mind that it stemmed from Dustin naming every evil thing they’d encountered over the last five years as some sort of game-inspired creature.

“Oh.” You understand, taking the several books from his hands. Clicking your tongue, tossing several to the side. “No…no…no…yes…no.” 

You present him with a much more reasonable pile. “Start with these. Everything else will just overwhelm you.”

“Are you sure?” He asks tentatively. You blink at him - then reach in your pocket to produce a handful of colorful, multi-sided dice. 

“Pretty sure.” You tell him, rattling the dice in your hands for emphasis. 

Steve’s jaw is slack at that, and he blurts out. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” You readily agree as he follows you to the register where you ring him up.

“Anything else?” You ask, and Steve chuckles a little. “No, but thank you. I was really close to calling it.”

“No need to thank me. It’s a cool game, I wish more people would give it a chance.” You smile when you hand him the receipt, letting him out of the store and locking up again after him.

And that might have been the end of it - but you were so nice to him the first time that once a week passes Steve is back at the bookstore, around the same time, specifically hoping you’ll be there.

When you were - glancing up at the bell announcing his entrance - he smiled sheepishly at you. “So, I have some questions.”

You laugh, not minding the intrusion. “Hit me with em.’”

And then you spend the better part of a half hour going over intricacies of Dungeons and Dragons with him, endlessly patient, even excited for him when he grasps a concept.

“You know,” you say finally, thoughtfully. “I think that your best teacher at this point is probably going to be…playing an actual game.”

“I don’t know if my friends will be as merciful as you’ve been.” He laughs, knowing he’s not ready. There’s too much to learn.

You shrug, “No, but mine just might be.” Then you grab a discarded receipt from the counter, flipping it over and scribbling some information on it.

“Meet me at this address tomorrow, around 4…if you’re up for it. I’ll set you up.” You tell him, and then lead him out the way you had previously, locking up after him without another word.

Steve can’t believe his luck. The next day he arrives at the quaint little maroon house right on time, climbing the steps and knocking on the front door.

It opens moments later, you offering him a warm greeting before letting him inside.

“Hey Steve,” You smile with bright red lips, and Steve is surprised to see how you dress when you’re not in the hideous bookstore khakis and polo shirt. 

Yellow plaid pants, and a crop top that looks homemade. Casual, cool.  Not what he’d expected from a bookstore clerk who played D&D, but here they were.

You offer Steve a drink before leading him to a fold up table that you’d set up in your large living room. 

It’s scattered with supplies already, and over the next hour or two, you and Steve put a lot of work into what he worries isn’t enough to show for it.

Still you’re sweet as always though, explaining to him that the creation of his character is an essential part of the game. 

He’s studying the character sheet that the two of you have concocted when you eventually go to greet your friends, all of them arriving within a few minutes of 6pm. 

Steve gets the distinct impression that he’s not the first wayward soul you’ve collected. By the time they’ve all joined you two it’s clear that they are, each of them, around you guys’ age, arguably nerdy in a variety of ways, and curious about Steve.

“We’re going to show Steve the ropes.” You tell them, and give the instructions for them to make nice while you order everyone pizza.

Then you take Steve by surprise once again, by sitting at the table’s head and assuming the role of Dungeon Master.

You make the group introduce themselves and their characters for Steve’s benefit, and then captivate everyone with your storytelling.

It’s incredible - Steve is wrapped up in it, having a blast though the actual outcome of the game turns out pretty rough.

Steve doesn’t survive it - but you were right about your friends. They carry his weight, offering tips and using their hard earned resources to keep reviving him as much as possible.

By the end though, his level 1 human paladin is slain. The quest continues on as he listens in fascination.

And when the night is over - the pizza consumed, arguments had, he wasn’t the only casualty.

Several of your friends grumble in good nature when you wrap things up with a small flourishing bow.

“That…was awesome.” Steve breathes, when you finally ask him what he thinks.

Tilting your head back, you laugh. “Glad you think so. Next time I won’t take it so easy on you.”

“Easy?” Steve blurts, your friends all laughing. “Yes, Steve,” they explain -  “That was her taking it easy.”

They share tales of the ways you’ve murdered them - sadistically, frequently, and Steve can’t help but to look forward to next time. 

He tells you as much when he helps you clean up, and you promise that he’s welcome as much as he wants.

So he keeps coming, keeps playing, keeps learning from you and your friends.

Eventually, Steve is what you generously call decent -  and you give him your blessing to recuse himself from what you have affectionately dubbed your “merry band of misfits.” 

“You’re ready.” You promise him.

The guys nod in agreement, and Steve swallows. “Do you think uh, I can come back sometimes? Not necessarily every week but uh, you guys are cool. I like hanging out with you all. You’ve taught me a lot.”

“Brave paladin, we would quest with you anytime.” One of the guys salutes him. Steve chuckles.

That night when everyone has cleared out, Steve lingers in order to help put things away, the way he’s done since the first game. While he does so, he’s overwhelmed with gratitude.

You had really been kind to him since you’d met - had taken him under your wing without question, introduced him to something he never realized could be so fun and on top of that, gave him a way back into his friend’s lives.

He wasn’t sure how to repay you.

At least, not until you put a tape in your cassette player, and Steve is suddenly struck with the cords of a familiar song. 

It’s a song he’d first heard in The Upside Down, signaling to him that it was time to kill Vecna.

“Master of Puppets?” He asks you.

Without hesitation, your eyes light up. “Hell yeah. I love Metallica.” You give a shake of your head. “Surprised you know it though.” You tease him.

“Yeah I uh…I have this friend. Plays a really…really sick rendition of it. Totally metal.” He says, lost in thought.

“That’s so cool.” You admit, clearing empty pizza boxes away.

You’ve not given it much more consideration, but for Steve though, the wheels are turning. He has an idea. One that, if executed properly, he thinks will be the perfect way to repay you.

The perfect opportunity presents itself with the coming week - his parents are on some kind of retreat that they go on every year that their marriage doesn’t crash and burn.

It’s the perfect time to host - so he puts the word out to all his friends. Party at his place.

Everyone quickly agrees to make it, and when Steve extends the invitation to you, you also decide sure - why not. 

It’s not a night playing D&D but Steve promises he’s the king of parties.

When the kids are splashing around in his pool - trying to be sneaky about drinking his beer - Steve feels really confident in his plan and his abilities.

“Who are you waiting for?” Robin asks as she drops down into a lawn chair, drink in hand.

“What?” Steve feigned innocence.

“You keep checking the door.” She says, with a soft hum. “And at last headcount we’re all here. Unless…Nance…Is it - is it Nance? Did you invite Nance?” She whispers.

Steve rolls his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I doubt Nancy, and Johnathan would make an appearance from their honeymoon to come to one of my parties.”

Robin snorts. “Well, what is it then? Because you’re not subtle.”

“I did invite my new friend.” Steve explains, as nonchalantly as he’s able.

“What’s this now?” Dustin asks, sloshing around in the water with his ears perked up under his curly hair. “You made a new friend?”

“I did.” Steve shrugs.

Robin eyes his face. “Oh my gosh, it’s a girl. Steve has a girlfriend.”

Dustin ooh’s as some of the other kids float over to the commotion, making cute noises.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Alright everybody calm down, it is a girl, and she is a friend. She is not my girlfriend.” 

“Do you want her to be?” Eleven teases.

“No.” He grits out.

“I totally don’t believe you.” Lucas laughs.

“It’s a classic Steve move - invite the girl to a pool party and ply her with cheap beer.” Robin jokes.

“That’s not what this is.” He sighs.

“Really Steve, look at the facts and tell us you’re not trying to date her.” Mike says, like some kind of expert.

Steve sighs in deep exasperation, rubbing a hand over his face. He glanced around abruptly, making sure that a particular party guest isn’t around to hear what he’s about to say.

As it is, it seems like he’s gone inside - likely rolling up for the older kids for later. “I’m not trying to date her! I am trying to set her up with Eddie.”

“Eddie?” Dustin questions, astounded.

“Yes, Eddie. Dungeon master, heavy metal playing, mechanically inclined, pain-in-my-ass, Eddie.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“Oh…” everyone seems blown away. None of them more than Steve himself had been.

“…Hello?” A familiar voice calls out and Steve panics, scrambling to his feet and wondering if you’d caught any of that.

Based on your expression he doesn’t think so. Still, he’s extra cautious when he takes the large bottle of tequila from you. “Hey,” Steve addresses, adding lamely. “You made it!” 

“Well someone told me that you’re the king of parties.” You tease.

Steve grins, then gestures weakly to the group in front of you two. “These are uh, these are my friends.” Steve points each one out, naming them.

You turn to the pool, younger kids clustered in and around it, and you wave. A flurry of greetings follows you. 

They all take you in - blood red lipstick, black fishnets peaking out beneath high waisted shorts, a low cut Iron Maiden shirt tied into a knot at the bottom to show just the smallest bit of your midriff - and they could see where Steve might have thought of Eddie.

Speaking of, in that moment the side door to Steve’s house opens and Eddie steps out of it, already lighting the cigarette perched between his lips before he freezes mid-step.

“Ah, I uh, did not realize we had company.” He grins cheekily.

Steve steps forward, gesturing, “Y/N, this is Eddie. Eddie - Y/N.” He introduces, unable to contain the wide grin at the way Eddie’s eyes hone in on the skeleton on your shirt that he knows all too well.

“Oh, yeah.” You laugh lightly, a tad embarrassed under his gaze. “King Steve here neglected to mention he had a pool.” Nudging Steve harshly at the accusation. “Lucky for you I do accept apologies in the form of a stiff drink.”

“Yes ma’am.” Steve salutes, “Eddie, keep her company will ya? I’m going to uh, go get some ice.”

“I’ll go with you.” Robin adds helpfully, following Steve into the house. Some of the kids, wet and slippery, follow them in, all asking what the plan is.

“I’m making this up as I go.” Steve admits. “I mean, I’ve never asked a girl out for another person!”

“Well we need to do something, did you see her shirt!” Erica points out.

Steve nods, “Trust me kid that’s the tip of the iceberg. She and him are made for each other, you have no idea.”

“Where did you find her anyways?” Dustin asks.

“She works at this book store...it’s not important.” Steve changes the subject. “If no one has any bright ideas, we ought to get back out there before we’re missed.”

Uttered agreements hit Steve’s ears as the group staggered their return. “Here ya go.” Steve hands you the mixed drink, watching you sip it gratefully. “Thanks.” You tell him brightly.

You’re sitting in a lawn chair, Eddie occupying another on your other side, still smoking that cigarette despite the dopey grin on his face.

Drink in hand, you turn back to him and gesture for him to continue. “You were saying?” Eyes all for him, so Eddie launches animatedly into whatever conversation you’d been having before Steve interrupted.

Steve takes it to mean that maybe the pair of you won’t need his help after all, and he lets the party commence, the kids pouring over the edge into the pool as you two talk.

He is briefly distracted by his mission by an overwhelming sense of contentment, flooding him with every call and squeal of joy his younger friends let out.

When the hour grows late, he rounds them up - making sure that they get home safe. 

With all the four oldest of the group remaining, Eddie produces a small baggie of pre-rolled blunts.

“S’okay if it’s not your thing.” He tells you, handing off to Robin with the lighter. 

You roll your eyes lightly in response, scoffing, “Please.”

Then as if to prove it, after Robin takes the first hit you reach out and grasp her wrist gently, guiding her hand that’s got the blunt clasped between two fingers to bring it to your lips.

You inhale deeply before releasing your hold on the other woman, the smoke billowing from your lips as she lowers her hand.

“Hot.” Robin’s the one who says it, to which you blow her a kiss. Robin then passes to Eddie, who inhales shakily, eyes on you the whole time.

Steve decides to give him until the end of the night, at most.

As the four of you pass the blunt around more, your lipstick stains it, and no one seems to mind. You’re growing on the whole group, and Steve especially sees you slotting in easily past tonight.

As it is while you all smoke, you ask about the kids who’d gone - how they all knew each other, if they were related. 

Eddie just laughs and tells you that the girl with the shaved head was a science experiment, and that she has superpowers that helped them all save the world more than once.

You laugh at that, thinking he’s absolutely gone, but Robin and Steve smile knowingly. Their shared smiles grow when Robin alerts Steve subtly to the new development of the night, Steve having caught it as well. 

Eddie and you had gotten closer at some point, now sharing a chair, his knee touching yours, the smoke pouring from his mouth crowding your airspace.

Eddie also keeps whispering in your ear, things that make you giggle, leaning back into him. 

Then you yawn suddenly, sadly admitting, “Guess I’d better head home before I’m too messed up to drive.”

“One could argue that you reached that limit two drinks ago.” Robin points out, gesturing to the scene of you practically splayed across Eddie’s lap.

At that you flushed, glancing back at Eddie nervously, apologetic, and Steve nudged Robin roughly for undermining his mission. 

“Oops,” you breathed. “Sorry Eddie. I get kinda touchy when I drink.”

“I’m not complaining.” It's flirtatious, but there’s an edge of seriousness to it as well. A touch of nerves. You hide your smile behind the red solo cup.

“So, I just meant like…stay.” Robin admits. “I’m sure Steve can spare a couch.”

“I absolutely can. Couches all around, for all my friends.” He holds a drink up to toast to that, inquiring “What do you say?”

“Alright, why not?” You laugh. “Can’t promise that I’ll be that much fun anymore though, I get sleepy after smoking.” Your head lolls to the side to emphasize that point, not minding when it makes contact with Eddie’s shoulder that’s in the path of the movement.

Touchy, check. 

Sleepy, check. 

“I’m feeling better and better about our decision not to let you drive home.” Steve snickers.

Eddie juts his chin out toward the pool. “You should take a dip. Wake you right up.”

“Um, no.” You chuckle, gesturing to the character on your chest. “Eddie doesn’t swim.”

“It’s called, Eddie?” Robin’s eyes bug out as she nods and laughs. At the same time their Eddie leans in and whispers something suggestive, earning a breathless laugh and elbow to his ribs.

Then you disentangle from the man, scrambling to your feet, “Bathroom?” You ask Steve.

“Downstairs just past the kitchen.” He lets you know, and you thank him, headed inside.

Steve and Robin immediately turn their attention to Eddie once you’re out of sight.

“What? Do I have something in my hair?” He asks in a manner that’s much too innocent.

“Dude,” Steve sighs, while Robin grumbles how men are clueless.

“What?” Eddie asks again, a much more sharp sounding whine.

“You know what - she likes you, and you clearly like her. Ask her out.” Robin insists. 

“Since when do you two care about my love life?” Eddie deflects, a tad embarrassed at how obvious he had been.

“Since your soulmate was literally hand delivered by Steve earlier this evening.” Robin snarks.

“Soulmate?” Eddie laughs. “Aw man, having a girlfriend has totally made you soft, Buckley.”

“Tell you what.” Steve suggests, not letting him weasel his way out of it with that subtle change of subject. “I’ll make you a little wager. If I win, you accept that that’s your soulmate in there, and you do something about it. Ask her out…If I lose, it's the dealer's choice.”

Eddie purses his lips as he thinks about it, thinks about giving Steve a buzz cut but also about what he has to lose…the answer to which, is nothing. 

Sure he might have been cynical about soulmates, but he would be lying if he said that he hadn’t been toying around with the idea of asking you out already. Might have even done it already were it not for his present company.

“So, what is the wager exactly?” Eddie asks slowly.

“Simple. I’m going to see if I can accurately guess the contents of Y/N’s pockets.” Steve grins.

Eddie laughs. “That’s random as hell.”

“So?” Steve presses.

“You’ve got a deal.” He shrugs.

When you return a few minutes later, sitting in a new chair and making Eddie pout, Steve puts his plan into action.

“Hey, Y/N?” He asks.

“Hm?” You question around a sip of your drink.

“Can I see your dice?” He presses, hiding his smile.

“Dice?” You sound a tad confused, but mostly amused. Eddie watches with rapt fascination.

“Yeah I’m uh…at a crossroads.” Steve hints, holding his hand out to you expectantly. 

You look at him for an extended period, before reaching into your pocket and producing the small colorful handful that Steve knew you had on you at all times. 

Robin and Steve both wished that they had Johnathan’s camera in order to capture the expression on Eddie’s face - slack jaw and rounded eyes - as he takes in the unmistakable shapes in your palms.

Steve plucks the D20 from your hands, rolling it, knowing it won’t matter what it lands on. Still, it comes out high.

“I think that that’s a hit, wouldn’t you say Eddie?” He teases the older man.

Eddie still hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. “You just - you just carry those around with you?”

“Sure.” You let out a small nervous laugh. “It’s incredibly lame, I know.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Not lame. Cool. Very cool.” Then Eddie’s head snaps up to Steve and Robin with a glare. “Didn’t you guys just say you were going to…get the couches ready or something?”

They scramble up in understanding, nodding, leaving the two alone.

You are utterly confused, more so when Eddie moves off of his chair, kneeling in front of you now that you’re alone.

“Do you, uh, do you think I might be able to take you out sometime?” He rubs the back of his neck nervously, a sweet grin splitting his face.

You blink in surprise “Ye-uh-yes.” Nodding enthusiastically. “…Totally.” You want to cringe at how awkward you are.

Eddie beams at you despite that. “Awesome.”

Steve and Robin, who are peering through the shades that cover Steve’s windows, cheer and celebrate when they see Eddie lean down and plant a kiss right on your red lips.

When you two eventually join them inside, you both take up residence on the pull out couch together, Steve and Robin sleeping upstairs.

And if in the middle of the night, Steve hears the springs of that shitty mattress squeaking, accompanied by a plethora of other muted sounds, he chooses to ignore it for his friend’s sake.

It had, after all, turned out better than he could have imagined.

In the coming days and weeks, he hears little snippets from everyone in the gang, which has in fact grown now to include you.

The updates make Steve smile, especially the little glimpses into your developing relationship with the metal head who is absolutely smitten with you.

You two are inseparable - except for when you work and the nights where you held your respective D&D campaigns.

It’s just before one of those when the kids file into the video store, Steve taking notice of them immediately.

Despite how busy it is, being Saturday, he can’t help but notice that something seems off. And that seems more important than stocking chick flicks on shelves.

“Hey kids, why the long faces?” Steve asks. 

“Mike’s parents are redoing the basement.” Will pouts, to which Steve immediately nods in understanding. 

They’d been using Wheeler’s basement to host their D&D games with Eddie, since Sundays between church and football there wasn’t much chance of his parents bothering them.

Now, it seems like they needed a place to play. And parents were the recurring issue at their every option.

Steve didn’t have that problem.

“Why not use my house?” Steve suggests, interrupting their batting around of ideas. 

The kids' faces light up. “Really?”

This is it, Steve thinks. He nods, telling them “Sure!” Before clearing his throat nervously. “Could I…could I play?” 

Several surprised expressions greet him. “You want to play D&D?”

“Yeah.” Steve grins a little. “Why not?”

They, of course, allow it. So that’s how they all end up on a Sunday night at Steve’s house.

Eddie had sauntered in early to set the whole thing up, trying to pry into Steve’s sudden interest, to no avail, only relenting once the kids showed up and they actually got started. 

They’re all surprised when Steve brandishes a fully flushed out character. More so by his bold strokes and luck with the dice. 

The game is in full swing when the sound of your car pulling up alerts everyone to your presence.

You didn’t usually come see their game - but you knew it was Steve’s first with them, and you’d promised you wouldn’t miss it.

Eddie is ecstatic to have you there, his whole face lighting up as he rushes over to open your door for you.

“Hi princess.” He purrs, giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

“Eddie,” you protest the nickname with a flush. He loves to watch you squirm, leading you over to his throne. It wasn’t the same one from years ago in hellfire - this one didn’t belong to the school, but had been gifted to him as a graduation present. 

The kids had hoped it would inspire him to host the game even without the club - and it had definitely helped. Now it went wherever the game did. Most recently, Eddie had saved it from whatever decorating atrocity was taking place at the Wheeler’s.

Eddie settles into it now, pulling you happily into his lap.

“Confronting deadly peril, Steve?” You ask curiously, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“…with surprising success.” Eddie admits at Steve’s modest shrug.

You give Steve a wide grin. “Is that right?” In answer, he winks at you. Eddie’s hands instinctively tighten on your waist, though he knows there’s no malice behind the action.

You wave a hand indicating for them to proceed. They don’t need much more prodding to launch back into it, Eddie leading them on a perilous journey that has him gripping your hips firmly to stop your wriggling in his lap.

“Sweetheart if you don’t cut that out…” he warns in a low voice - a voice much more familiar than the one he uses to narrate - as the party discusses their next move.

You grin sheepishly at him, and he peppers little kisses to your neck, with fevered promises of…later.

Your giggling is interrupted as Steve leads a charge against Eddie, giving the dungeon master a run for his money. 

It’s quick - efficient - ruthless. He makes you proud. Eddie gives him everything he has in return, but Steve’s meticulous rolling leaves him with the upper hand. Eddie turns over the miniature of the villain this week, admitting defeat.

The party cheers - Dustin shaking Steve vigorously and Mike and Lucas slapping his back while Erica paraded around in victory.

Eddie doesn’t mind their beating his campaign, and he never has. But still, here now with the promise of you, all riled up before they’d concluded, he’s more than happy to be finished, eager to clear out of there.

He starts packing things up, and you help him, fondness in your eyes when you see the adoration the younger kids show for Steve.

Your actions make him think. “I don’t suppose…” Eddie draws the words out slowly. “That you would have anything to do with…that.” He nods at Steve’s character sheet he’d left on the table.

“I’m afraid so.” You give a faux sigh before explaining with a slight edge of pride. “Taught him everything he knows.”

You beam at Eddie, and he’s suddenly, if possible, more eager, to get you to himself.

An impressed whistle left his lips. “You have no idea the kind of monster you created, my love.” 

You laugh at that as the kids overheard, understanding washing over them, Erica being the one to shriek. “I knew he couldn’t be that good!” 

“Oh I have…some semblance of an idea.” You bat your lashes at him.

Eddie is fucking enamored with you. He pulls you in and kisses you deeply, he can’t help himself. 

“Not in front of the children you two!” Steve protests, throwing a pillow from his couch at you, thinking that it was him who created the monster. 

And he couldn’t have been happier about it.

[applcrumbl]

Picking Fights with Plaster Casts.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x F!Reader Warnings: Sexual Assault and Harassment, Canon Level Violence Author’s Note: Wayhey first fic on the new blog!!

Summary: He may still be nursing a broken hand, but like hell was he going to let anyone treat his girl, who wasn’t his girl, like that.

It was a stupid idea, both punching a hole through his wall and the subsequent events that followed. But, God knew, Steve Harrington was an idiot.

His reasoning behind his actions was never quite revealed, much less explored, but the broken hand that he was left with opened up a seemingly never-ending list of questions from Robin. The small video rental that occupied their time from noon until close was rife with business today. It was Saturday, by far their busiest of the days in the week, yet the pair never seemed to mind. The job was simple; help customers pick out a movie; ring up said movie as a rental; ensure that the movie was returned; sit and wait for the next customer. Mundane, boring, but miles better than their previous occupation. The simple green vest and name-tag were significantly more comfortable than the sailor themed get-up, complete with a tied neckerchief, and a sailor's hat.

Steve was thankful that his new uniform was much more attractive than his last, he still couldn't help feeling disheartened that he even had to wear the uniform at all. The former ‘king of Hawkins High’ stood alone behind the counter of the ‘Family Video’ almost upset. Last year he would have been out at a party, not stuck working for minimum wage with a huge plaster cast on his right hand. He handed over some children's film to a family, paying practically no attention to what it was. Eyes trained on someone who had just entered through the heavy glass doors.

Panic flooded the brunet’s features as he slid into the back room. Coming face-to-face with Robin, who was pulling off her coat. The shorter girl had just begun her shift.

“Evening, Dingus”

“Robin I need you to start out front” he practically begged, “I’ll clean up back here”

“Clean up?” She smirked, something was up. “Let me guess, Y/N’s here?”

Teasing him was just too easy, and something that never would have happened when the two were at school together. But previous circumstances had allowed them to become close, and Robin had learned that Steve was an open book. An open book turned to the page dedicated to you.

“She doesn’t know I work here and I don't really want her knowing.” He sighs, “I’m trying to impress her”

A roll of Robin’s eyes cued the ding of a bell. Someone was at the counter waiting to be served. “You owe me” She sighed, pushing herself through the two-way door. Steve peeked through the crack as Robin recited the rental terms and conditions. Picking up a nearby mop to use as an alibi.

The mop leant against his shoulder as he used his non-broken hand to guide the soapy water across the linoleum floors. It wasn’t easy, but Steve was proud of what he’d achieved. The simple things in life began to excite Steve. Robin slid the door open as he broke into a slight celebratory dance. She chose not to make fun of it.

“Hey, Steve? You might wanna see this”

He leant through the threshold. Brown eyes scanned the room until across they met yours.  Your vision was slightly blurry with the tears that filled them. In the parking lot, cornered by some drunk seniors that you knew from school. You tried to push one of them off of you, but it was no use. The three boys chanted words of harassment, and one even trying to put his hand down your jeans. Your friends just stood and watched, Your best friend giggled at your expense.

“You did it for Tommy, why won’t you do it for me? Huh, Princess” One spoke, almost spitting in your face. He was so close you could smell the mint from the gum in his mouth. It almost made you sick.

“Get off of me, please” Even when being assaulted, you were always so polite.

“God, Y/N stop pretending to be a prude, we all know the real reason why you stay single. So you’re not tied down to one man.” another hissed, earning a chorus of laughter. It made Steve see red.

Robin waited for his reaction. She would have given the group a strong word herself had she not been so frightened. All three of the boys were bigger than Steve, but they towered over her. Before she could even ask the boy next to her whether she should call the police, Steve had already thrown himself over the front counter, and to the front door. It slammed against the wall as he pushed through, causing the group to turn.

His hand throbbed as he threw the first punch, knocking the guy into the shop window, In his peripheral vision he saw Robin pick up the phone from the counter, undoubtedly calling for the sheriff's department. Another punch was thrown as the gathered crowd grew larger. Steve’s nose was bleeding, his opponent was much stronger than him but he stayed resilient, hitting the guy with his cast-covered hand once more. He may still be nursing a broken hand, but like hell was he going to let anyone treat his girl, who wasn’t his girl, like that. A final blow to the stomach had the group scattering away.

Steve was advised to take the rest of the day from work. His hand was bloody and clearly needed medical attention. Instead, He sat alone on an outdoor bench. Eyes closed and head hung. He didn’t move until you stood near.

“Thanks for that” you almost whispered, “you didn’t have to”

Admittedly this was the first time you’d spoken to him, you felt guilty that it was under these circumstances.

“I know” Steve smiled, “I couldn’t let them do that to you though, just basic morals”

“Still. Thank you”

The atmosphere was comfortable as you sat next to him on the uncomfortable wood. Yet you both stared straight ahead. Unsure of what to say next, too afraid to look at each other.

“I’m Y/N, by the way”

“I know” he smiled, before letting it fall, “I don’t mean that in a creepy way, I just mean that you were in the year blow me in school, and you know some people that I know. I don’t stalk you or anything, cause that would be weir-” He cut himself off, “I’m Steve”

“I know”

Steve nodded, a smile returning to his face. He fiddled with the edge of his vest, nerves getting to him. Usually calm, collected and a true ladies man, he let out a shaky breath. You never would have recognised the man in front of you had it not been for his mop of soft brown hair.

“Your hand. Is it hurt?” You asked, “Do you need to go to the hospital?

Steve shook his head softly. “No, it was broken before.”

“And you still fought with it?”

A soft smile and a chuckle. “Worth it” he whispered.

You reached for the cast on his hand. A tender moment interrupted as the sheriff's car pulled up. Steve’s heart pounded, not in fear, but in love. “Hey, Y/N?

“Mhmm”

“You wouldn’t want to go out sometime?” he stuttered, “with me?”

“Christ sake, Harrington, I thought you’d never ask”

[calpurniatypes]

𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨; 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐨𝐜

six feet under summary; just as she's settling into Hawkins, a new terror threatens to take Cordelia's friends, and her lover away...

chapter summary; hawkin's is hot, awfully hot. the kids bicker, and cordelia takes a swim

warnings; this story may be unsuitable for some audiences. Sexual content, anxiety, self harm, depression, abandonment, violence, blood, death, and cigarettes.

stranger things story masterlist ; calpurnia's overall writings

Cordelia flipped the CLOSED sign at Otis’s Athletics. It was a small store, and Cordelia had worked there most of the summer. At first, she and Steve had both applied to work at Scoops, thinking it would be a fun way to spend time together. But Robin had taken Cordelia’s spot, so she’d gotten a job at the only athletic store in Hawkins. Their small town wasn’t really known for anything other than mediocrity, but it paid. 

She vacuumed the floor and wiped down the desk before saying goodbye to her coworker, a flaxen haired boy named Jason. He was a basketball player, and he seemed to put effort into the sport, which Cordelia could respect. He was just as tall as her, and often while she rang people up he’d be helping direct customers around the shop. 

“Tons of people today, right?” Jason said, opening his arms to show the empty town outside the window. From the exact moment when the mall opened, they’d been losing customers. 

“It was overwhelming,” she responded, pushing the door open slightly. “Well, night Jason.” 

“Goodnight, Cordelia!” He yelled as she nodded, leaving Otis’s Athletics and making her way to her 1972 Aston Martin. It was too hot out, and as she drove out of town, she fanned herself in the mirror, slipping on a 1984 Minnesota Track and Field State Championships ball cap, the light blue color matching the hem of her soft cobalt halter top. 

Cordelia parked her car where Dustin had told her to when he’d called her that afternoon. Hopping over a fence, Cordelia jogged easily to meet up with the rest of the crew, their brightly colored clothing a beacon against the green hillside. 

Coming up to them, Cordelia heard their conversation, and Dustin said, “they have electricity and cars and stuff, but since I’m not Morman they would never approve.” 

She slowed down and joined the group, “that’s some Shakespearen shit right there.” She says, and at the sound of her voice, Dustin wheeled around and dropped his bags, enveloping her in a hug. 

The bear grasp went on for a moment too long, and Lucas took his opportunity, “see you’ve still got the crush on her, Dustin.” 

She shook her head at Lucas as Dustin whipped out of Cordelia’s arms, brushing the front of his shirt off. “Shut up, Lucas!” 

As they hiked further up the large, sloping green hill, the group chatted about Dustin’s new girlfriend and the possibilities of Cerebro. Not the type of person normally interested in wires, long range, and radios, Cordelia observed the kids around her. 

Max, though she would rather die before she told Lucas, was head over heels in love with him. She watched as they gave each other looks and giggled to themselves. Dustin was normal, odd Dustin. His time at Camp Nowhere had changed him, and Cordelia was happy he’d found a girlfriend. Mostly so he’d stop pining for her. 

Will was the one that Cordelia feared for the most. His experiences, being possessed by the Mind Flayer, and his kidnapping the year prior had really seemed to effect him. Nancy had told her that he had always been a quiet, reserved kid, but now it was quite obvious. 

As she turned to watch Mike and El, the two stopped walking as the group trudged on ahead. They were holding each other's hands as Mike said, “hey guys?”

The group wheeled around to stare at them. 

“This is fun and all…” Mike motioned to the watch on his wrist. 

El continued easily, “I have to go home.”

“We’re almost there!” Dustin pointed to the top of the hill. 

“Sorry, man,” Mike deadpanned, “curfew. Come on.” He latched arms with El.

As the two turned to walk back down the hill, El said, “good luck!” 

“Use protection!” Cordelia shouted down the hill, earning her a glare from Mike.

“Curfew at four?” Dustin wasn’t asking a question. 

“They’re lying,” Lucas rolled his eyes. 

“It’s been like this all summer,” Will said, more annoyed than Cordelia had ever seen him. 

Shrugging, Max said, “it’s romantic.”

“It’s gross,” Will argued. 

“It’s bullshit,” Dustin’s voice was cynical, “I just got home…” Cordelia patted Dustin’s shoulder, “well, it’s their loss, right? Onwards and upwards!”

The kids nodded, and they began to truck their way up the hill. 

Soon enough, they were at the top of the green mound, Cordelia’s hands filled with most of the items Dustin said were ‘cramping his fingers’. 

After Lucas slurped down the rest of their water and they’d set up the Cerebro, Cordelia settled down on the dirt. 

“Are you ready to meet my love?” Dustin lay down on the soft grasses, holding the receptor to his mouth. “Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over?” He asked, smiling freakishly. His response was a sharp radio static, loud and inhuman. 

Dustin held his finger into the air, “one sec. She’d probably… She’s still here.” He spoke again, “Suzie, this is Dustin, do you copy? Over.” Again he was met with hissing static. Cordelia slowly rose, stretching her long limbs, she watched as the kids stood around Dustin, impatient. 

“I’m sure she's there, it’s just…” Dustin trailed off, obviously not sure of anything. 

“Yeah,” Lucas said.

“You know, maybe she’s, like, busy or—” “Yeah,” Lucas repeated.

“It’s probably dinner time in Salt Lake City, right? That’s where she’s from?” Cordelia stepped in to cover for the curly haired boy, and Dustin smiled weakly at her. 

The kids nodded their agreement and mumbled “mhmms” in response. 

The moon was out around an hour later, and Cordelia rose again. She’d been reading a small poetry book she’d shoved into the back pocket of her jean shorts, listening partially to Dustin’s frequent calls to Suzie. 

Max’s voice was new against what had become a constant backdrop of Dustin’s and the radio static, “Dustin! Come on. She’s not there!” “She’s there, all right? She’ll pick up.” He countered, the radio still in his hands. 

Hitting the ground with his hand, Will agreed with Max,“maybe Cerebro doesn’t work.”

“Or maybe Suzie doesn’t exist,” Lucas’ hands were in the air, making his point clear.

“She exists!” Dustin’s voice cracked noticeably. 

Cordelia stayed out of their bickering, feeling uneasy in the situation. In her old house, in Minnesota, bickering usually led to things much worse. The girl stood, crossing her hands over her chest, her fingers picking lightly at the burn scar on her thumb.  

Meanwhile, Lucas went on, “she’s a genius, and she’s hotter than Phoebe Cates? No girl is that perfect. Other than, like, Cordelia.” 

Cordelia turned away. She wasn’t getting roped into this. She understood it was a compliment, but their words were still heated. 

Sitting up, Max turned to Lucas, “is that so?” 

He followed her movements, “I mean… you’re perfect,” he covered. “I mean, like, perfect in yo— your own way. In your special — in your own special way.”

She chuckled and smiled, “relax, I was teasing. I’m obviously perfect and Dustin’s obviously lying.”

Cordelia wanted to leave and turned to the kids. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.” 

Will shook his head, explaining how he’d stay with Dustin, meanwhile Max and Lucas trudged down the hill to her car, Cordelia in front of them.

“I still don’t understand how they allow you to drive this thing over here,” Lucas pointed out how the steering wheel was in the right front, not the left as usual in American cars. 

Cordelia shrugged, not in the mood for talking, though she rarely ever was, “it’s my dad’s, he brought it with him from England after he worked there.” 

She unlocked the car, Max and Lucas sitting in the backseat and Cordelia in the front. 

“You get all weird when we fight, you know that?” It took Cordelia a second to recognize that the words coming from Max’s mouth were directed at her. 

Shrugging, Cordelia turned onto Lucas’s street. “I don’t.”

“Yes,” Max nodded, “yes you do.” “True.” Lucas agreed, “you get this weird distant look in your eyes.” 

Cordelia pulled up in front of Lucas’s house, “get inside.” She told him, and Cordelia watched through the rear view mirror as him and Max shared an odd look. 

Max jumped up into the front seat as Cordelia pulled back onto the road. “Why do you get all distant and weird… We weren’t even really fighting.” 

Cordelia pressed her mouth together, her fingers tight on the steering wheel. “It just reminds me of some stuff, you know. But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I get it…” Max rested a hand on Cordelia’s bare shoulder. “Sometimes talking helps, though. I talk some stuff through with Lucas. Maybe you can with Steve.”

Cordelia nodded as she pulled into Max’s driveway. It was clear that her and Steve were together, though they hadn’t told anyone about their relationship. They figured that the news would get out sometime, and it wasn’t anyone's business but their own. 

As Max climbed out of the car, wishing her good night and not to get too frisky, Cordelia saw Billy’s face in the window of the front door. He glared, staring daggers into Cordelia’s face. Then his eyes drifted down to the cleavage showing in her halter top, the tan skin of her collarbone. 

Before he could look any more, Cordelia sped out of the driveway, towards Steve’s house…

She knocked on Steve’s front door, listening as someone came down the large stairway and turned the knob. He opened the door, dressed in a cotton short sleeve and a pair of jeans. 

“Hello..” He said slyly, pulling in inside by her fingertips and into his arms, a quick kiss pecked to her lips. He smelled her scent, eucalyptus and vanilla. 

Her voice, always so hoarse, answered back, “hey, pretty boy.” 

“I’m so happy you came, I just learned that, as always, my parents will be out of town this week.” He said, his tone overjoyed. 

“I’m sorry, Steve.” She held his hands, standing several inches back from his chest. 

“Oh, don’t be. It’s better when they aren’t around, you know. Easier for me to kiss you like this—” he pulled in, his lips against hers, deep and loving. 

She did know. Steve had talked a bit about his parents, and their constant abandonment of him. She related to him in that way. 

He pulled away from her, turning toward the pool, “you know, it’s awful hot out today…” 

She frowned, staring at him, and then motioned to her clothes. “I don’t have a swimsuit…”

Giving her his signature smile, he pulled her up the stairs and into his room, where he immediately walked to the closet and grabbed a pair of his boxers and a large cotton tee shirt. Soon after they finished changing, they were both cannonballing into the pool, Cordelia splashing into the water, and then Steve after her. 

The pool had been cleaned earlier that week, and Cordelia looked down to see her toes wiggle deep beneath her. The vegetation was so high around Steve’s house in the summertime that no onlookers could see Cordelia’s chest pressed tight against the soaked cotton. She hadn’t worn a bra because of her halter top earlier. 

Steve was underneath her, holding her up on his shoulders like they would if they were playing chicken. 

“You are so fucking light,” he said, and she laughed, leaning over his head to kiss him upside down. 

“Or maybe you're just super strong.” She accentuated the words to tease him. Throwing her off of his shoulders, she splashed onto her back, bubbling down down down, the air trickling from her lungs. 

When she felt the bottom of the pool under her fingers, she sprung back up and flew out of the water, launching into Steve’s arms. 

He held the back of her shoulders and kissed her, hard. 

“Oh god,” she whispered against his lips, both of them together in the teal waters of his pool, the lush vegetation green around them. “I’ve never been so happy in my life, Steve.” 

“Oh god,” he whispered back, repeating her, “Cory, you make me so happy.”

Later, floating on her back, Steve out of the pool grabbing them two beers, Cordelia thought about what Max had said earlier. “Maybe you can with Steve…” 

When Steve returned, Cordelia pulled herself out of the water, sitting on the lounge chair next to Steve’s. The summer night was so hot and humid that it felt like she was still in the pool. The cotton shirt clung to her chest, her tight stomach, the way her skin only just covered her ribcage, her nipples hard against the cooling fabric. 

Thanking Steve for the drink, she took a sip of the alcohol, letting it sink into her middle. 

“Is something up, Cory?” He asked, and she took another gulp of the beer. 

“No.” She said, quickly, and then corrected herself, “I mean, yes, I guess.” 

“What’s up, buttercup?” Steve watched her. 

“Steve,” she whispered, as though scared of her own words. “Do I ever act weird when people are fighting?”

He stared at her for a moment, taking in her words. “I mean, you look kind of distant, I guess. Like when we were in the cafeteria that one time and Eddie Munson started yelling at Jason, you just looked glassy.”

“So Max and Lucas were right,” she came to terms with the statement. 

“What do you mean?”

“They just… they just said that I always act…odd… when people are shouting.” 

“You do, I don’t think it’s a big deal though. Hey?” He put his fingers on her arm, “hey, hey, Cory. Why do you act weird?”

“My mom and dad fought a lot before dad left for California. They just shouted every day, until my mom couldn’t talk. She always told me that I shouldn’t hate the fighting because the world wasn’t civil.” “That’s bullshit, Cory. Your mom is a manipulative person, and you know that better than I do. I don’t want you to be over at your house anymore,” he told her, and Cordelia nodded. 

She knew just as well as him why he didn’t want her over there. Her house was dark, so cold. Her mother lived in her own angry world, moving around the house like a child with a temper tantrum, her glare constant. 

Cordelia moved to Steve’s lounge chair and lay against him, his chest warm against her back. She felt at peace. She felt calm. 

“Thank you for everything, Steve.” 

“I’m happy you can talk to me about this shit. I’m here for you. Always.” 

She leaned over and kissed him, her mouth against his own, and melted into his touch. God, she was lucky to have him.

taglist; @preciousbabypeter @earthtostory 

[jamesbuchananxsteviegrant]

She Who Shan't Be Named - Part 1 | Sugar Lips (Tony x Reader, Clint x Reader, ??? x Reader)

Category: Smut (Mandatory) Age: 18+ Trigger Warnings: Explicit language, oral sex (male receiving), suggestive language, alcohol, drunk sexual actions, casual sexual actions, flirting with a lot of people Ship: Tony x Reader, Clint x Reader, ??? x Reader Summary: Tony lets his life-long friend crash at the Avengers HQ while she has nowhere else to go. What could go wrong with so many attractive individuals living in the same home? Word Count: 1.7k Masterlist: LINK

(hmu if you want adding to the tag-list for this series)

---

“I, unfortunately, have someone I want to introduce you all to.” Tony begins as he’s gathered everyone in the living quarters.

“Unfortunately? Well, that always sounds like a good start, Stark.” Natasha jokes, sitting alongside Bucky and Sam on one of the couches.

Tony rolls his eyes and shrugs.

“Yeah, well,” He trails off. “This is (Y/N) (L/N).” He gestures, pointing to the woman leaning against a pillar in the back corner of the room.

She makes an effort to stand upright and walk further into the room.

“Well, hello. It’s nice to finally meet you all in person.”

To say everyone in the room falls speechless with their eyes wide and jaws dropped is an understatement.

“Oh my God, you lot are insatiable.” Tony groans, rolling his eyes once more.

(Y/N) can only smirk and wink at just about everyone in the room.

“You’re welcome, Starky Boy.”

“Put a sock in it, sugar-lips.”

“Sugar-lips?” Rhodey quizzes, amusement dripping from his voice.

Tony and (Y/N) can only stare at one another and grin as they remember where that nickname came from.

*** flashback ***

“One more for the road?” Tony suggests to the very, very drunk (Y/N) beside him.

It’s three-thirty-AM, they’re both at their favourite bar in Manhattan, enjoying a belated birthday weekend of (Y/N)’s which he regretfully missed due to Avenger work.

“You know how to tempt me, Starky-boy.” She teases with a wink, waving her hand up to catch the attention of the bartender, Harrison, who they’ve grown acquainted with over the years of drinking at his bar.

Tony falls into a comfortable silence as he simply stares at the woman he’s been friends with since he was a teen at Phillips Academy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” The woman’s sarcastic comment pushes him over the edge. Within a second, his hands are grabbing her head and pulling her in for a harsh, desperate, passion-fueled kiss.

Harrison smirks as he sits their drinks down, watching how the pair have had ridiculous amounts of sexual tension coursing through them since they first started coming to the bar over ten years ago.

“What, the fuck?” (Y/N) manages to breathe between kisses.

“Stop talking.” Tony murmurs in response, only intensifying the kiss more and more.

“Tony,” She attempts but makes no effort to stop the man. No. Absolutely not.

She’s gotten herself off to the thought of this man too many times for her to want to stop.

Her hands are grasping at the black shirt that adorns his torso, his own hands moving down to grab her hips, itching to have her closer and closer.

“Jesus Christ.” The woman gasps as best she can. “Anthony!”

The man pulls back at the use of his full name but doesn’t let go of her hips.

“Tell me you haven’t wanted to do that?” He asks, voice deep. Low. Husky.

“Of course I wanted to fucking do it, you imbecile!”

His hand jumps up to grasp at her throat, a gasp escaping her lips.

“Watch your mouth.”

“Guys, you’re gonna make my customers leave; the back lounge is empty.” Harrison interrupts. Tony continues to make no effort to stop his actions. They’re both too drunk to care.

Not that he’d care anymore so when he’s sober.

The billionaire practically drags the woman off of their barstools, (Y/N) frantically grabbing their drinks, spilling half of them on the floor - to which she gives Harrison an apologetic look but he simply rolls his eyes with a grin.

A small shriek escapes the woman’s lips as Tony throws her into the room, her hands managing to sit the, now half-empty, drinks on the coffee table.

“On your knees.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” She grins, obeying the man’s order whilst quickly throwing her hair into a messy ponytail.

“Always knew you were a slut.” The man growls, unbuckling his belt and zipper on his smart trousers.

“You know me best, Starky Boy.”

She wastes no time in taking the man’s solid cock into her mouth, moaning at the feeling and taste, Tony groaning in satisfaction.

“Look how desperate you are for it.” He condescends yet continues to thrust into her mouth, fucking the back of her throat.

No words can be formed to give the man a reply. She’s too busy focusing on taking his impressive shaft down her throat, making sure her lips are touching his pelvis.

“Christ!”

He can’t help himself. His hands are in her hair, grabbing it and yanking her closer to his body, not thinking about anything other than the noise of her gagging.

“FUCK! You filthy fucking slut.”

She moans at that, working his cock more and more.

It’s not too long later before the man is releasing all over the woman’s face, her sticking her tongue out and taking as much of it as she can.

“This was a brand new blouse, Stark.” She complains, jokingly, as she licks her white lips. “Ugh, salty.”

“Don’t lie, you know it’s sweeter than sugar.” Tony laughs, re-doing his trousers.

“It definitely fucking isn’t.” (Y/N) groans, standing up and licking the rest of the mess off of her mouth.

“Whatever you say, sugar-lips.”

“TONY!”

*** flashback end ***

“A nickname I gave her once upon a time.” Tony vaguely explains, (Y/N) chuckling.

“Okay. So why’s she here?” Bucky asks, not taking his eyes off the most attractive woman he’s ever seen in his life.

“She has a name.” (Y/N) comments, quirking a flirtatious brow at the man.

The super soldier raises his brows but smirks.

“Why’re you here, doll?”

Now, that does something to her core.

“Starky Boy told me that y’all need a babysitter, so here I am!” She boasts, evidently joking but it makes everyone grin and not ask anymore questions.

“I’ve known her since I was in my teens, she’s a family friend.” Tony adds, reassuring everyone that she’s not someone to be cautious of.

“Pft, family friend? Don’t compliment yourself, Stark.” (Y/N) jokes, everyone laughing with her. “Anyway, in all seriousness, hello, I’m (Y/N). I’m temporarily chilling here if you’re all alright with it since I got nowhere else to be.”

“A pleasure, (Y/N). Steve Rogers.” Captain America begins, stepping forward and shaking the woman’s hand.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Captain.” She winks, the man smirking at her antics which will be refreshing around the compound.

“Bucky.” The Winter Soldier greets, nodding his head at the woman from his seat on the couch.

“Romanoff.” Black Widow follows, (Y/N) biting her lip at the red-head. “Natasha Romanoff.”

“Alright, James Bond.” Sam jokes, everyone laughing.

“Tony, I can’t believe this is the first time you’ve given me the opportunity to meet the Natasha Romanoff.” (Y/N) beams, winking at the woman who returns the gesture with a smug smile.

“Christ.” Tony groans, face-palming harder than ever.

“Sam Wilson.” The man smirks, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand from his position on the couch.

“Bird Boy.”

He gives a hearty laugh at that.

“Sure.”

“James Rhodes, but call me Rhodey.”

“So you’re the Transformer’s identical twin, right?” The woman quizzes, rhetorically, shaking the man’s hand.

Another round of laughter.

“Something like that.”

“Bruce. Bruce Banner.”

“The guy I don’t wanna piss off; got it.” (Y/N) smiles, watching the brunet give her an anxious smile and chuckle. “Or maybe I do.” She adds with a wink, basking in the entertainment that comes from his embarrassed expression.

“(Y/N).” Tony groans, semi-threateningly.

“Yes, Anthony?” She asks, smiling at him like an innocent child who’s never done wrong.

“Good day to you, beautiful mortal. I am Thor of Asgard.”

“Wowee…” The woman widens her eyes as the God leans down to kiss her cheeks. “The one and only.”

“That would be I.” He smiles, throwing her a wink also. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Stop hogging the limelight already.” A voice complains from beside the God of Thunder.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the God of Mischief.”

“Well, well, well, a beautiful lady such as yourself knows who I am, huh?” Loki greets, taking her hand and leans down to press a kiss to her knuckles, Tony continuing to grunt and groan in the background.

“Hard not to when you get off on destroying New York.” (Y/N) grins, a chorus of laughter filling the room yet again.

“Stop hogging the limelight.” A female voice mimics Loki's previous words.

“Well if it isn’t the Scarlet Witch!”

“That is I.” Wanda grins. “Wanda.” She adds, holding her hand out for (Y/N) to shake, which she accepts graciously.

“Tony, do you know how pissed I am that you’ve not introduced me to these people until now?”

“Oh my God, I’m literally going to kick you out.” The billionaire responds, pouring himself a whisky from the bar at the back of the living quarters.

“Yeah, yeah.” (Y/N) retorts, winking at Wanda before turning to the couch beside her which a certain Archer is leisurely laid across. “Barton.”

“(L/N).”

“Long time no see.”

“Ya think?” Clint quirks a brow, jokingly.

“How’s Laura? How’re the kids?”

“Not bad, not bad. How’s Michael?”

“Dead if I had any say in the matter.” The woman casually threatens as the brunet mentions her ex-boyfriend.

He breathes out a laugh.

“Commitment issues as good as ever then?”

“You know me, Robin.” She jokes, using the nickname she gave me when he came on a night out with Tony and her many moons ago.

“You two know each other?” Wanda questions.

They both shrug.

“Somewhat.” Clint answers, (Y/N) giving him a playful slap on the shoulder.

“You love me!”

He grins and sits up before standing.

“You know I do, come ‘ere.” The man chuckles, pulling the woman in for a tight embrace.

“Missed you, Robin.”

“You too, Marian.” He responds, using the fairytale nicknames from Robin Hood.

“Those two have definitely banged.” Sam snarks from across the room, Natasha agreeing.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Wilson.” Clint teases, flashing a wink his way.

“Now, now, boys.” The woman settles, turning to the young gentleman on the other couch, staring at her with some much awe in his eyes. “Who’s the kid?” She asks, staring at him directly yet directing her question at Tony.

“Uh, hi, I’m Peter. Peter Parker.” He stumbles, standing upright and holding out his hand for her to shake.

She giggles.

“Corruptible.”

“(L/N)!” Tony yells, the woman only laughing as she shakes the young man’s hand.

“A pleasure, spider-boy.”

Peter’s eyes widen at her knowing.

“Right, are we done? That was exhausting.” Tony complains for the nth time.

“Oh, grow a pair, Stark.” (Y/N) retorts.

“I will literally kick you out of this building.”

“You ain’t got the nerve.”

Downing a swig of his whisky, Tony takes a deep breath but smiles at the woman.

“It’ll be nice to have you around, sugar-lips.”

“I bet.” She winks, everyone chuckling again.

And that’s just the beginning of her relationships with everyone at the Avengers HQ.

---

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[peterthepark]

Cold as Ice

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: Billy just doesn’t understand why you’re so cold to him. He becomes desperate to warm you up. But, the killer heat of Hawkins combined with a stupid school project gives him the chance to know what’s truly underneath all that ice.

Warnings: cursing, smut, sExUal tenSion, some angst, some fluff, LOTS OF SIN

A/N: Definitely my filthiest fic at the moment, enjoy!

“You’re my partner.”

You look up from the register, hands on your hips as you stare at Billy Hargrove with a blank, unamused expression. There are a few people behind him, arms crossed against their chests - Tommy, Carol, and some other bimbo.

Funnily, you realize that they all resemble a group of poodles.

Cute.

Billy raises his eyebrows at you, smacking his gum as he impatiently awaits for a response. You glance at the folder that he slaps down onto the counter, knowing exactly what it contains.

“Hm, didn’t think you guys were recruiting for the next douchebag of Hawkins High. Are these the applications?” You finally pick up the folder, skimming through the thick pages of paper with a toothy smirk. “To be honest, I consider myself more of a bitch than a douchebag. Isn’t that right, Harrington?”

You chuckle devilishly as you hand Steve a couple dollars, who snickers at the interaction. Billy seems confused, but by the way he clenches his jaw and barely blinks, you can tell you’ve also hit a spot.

“Looks like I’ve won the bet, Y/N. Fuck, yeah! Robin! I told you I would win!” Steve runs into the back room of Scoops Ahoy, waving the dollar bills at his friend.

You turn back to Billy, re-adjusting the hat on your head. “Now, can I get you something, pool boy?” You lean over, hands splayed onto the cool marble of the counter.

“Did you not pick up on what I just said? I’m asking you to be my partner for the project. No, I’m picking you to be my partner.” Billy tries to keep a steady voice, but you easily catch the deep breath he takes between his words. His ‘friends’ are whispering behind him, exchanging dirty looks.

“Well, I’m actually not allowed to have personal conversations with customers right now,” Billy scoffs, tugging his lip between his teeth. “And so, if you aren’t ordering ice cream, then be my guest, and leave. I’ve got a few angry customers to deal with if you can’t tell.” He follows your pointed gaze, and surely enough, the line behind him is fairly long - filled with crying kids and irritated parents. “Come back later? Or never at all?”

Billy groans, pacing in short steps. He knows you’ll come around. They always come around.

You truly are a bitch.

Yet, somehow, Billy waits till the end of your shift to speak with you - hopefully in a more private spot and in a less aggressive manner.

You roll your eyes when you see him, sitting by the table nearest to the register. He seems to be alone, yet it annoys you even more.

“I don’t wanna be your partner, Hargrove. Is that not clear?” Your eyes follow him as he stands up. He’s much taller than you, so you can only send him an intimidating glare in hopes of scaring him away. “Pick someone else. And let me give you a hint - it’s not me.”

Billy inhales deeply, before a small smile forms on his face. He grabs your arm before you can walk away, hoping that he can win you over with his charm. But he knows he has to put away his pride to do so.

“Sweetheart, I really need help with this project. You’re the smartest girl in our class, and if you can’t tell, I hang around a bunch of dumbasses.”

Oh, so this is why he was alone. So he could talk crap about his shitty friends.

Billy continues, smile never wavering. He still has his hand wrapped around your arm, holding you in place as he speaks by your ear. “And anyways, it’s already set in stone. I asked Mrs. Johnson if I could pair up with you. She thought it was a great idea. Guess we’re in this together now, huh?”

He harshly pushes the folder of papers into your chest, letting go of your arm.

“What? You can’t do that!”

But he certainly did do that. Because when you storm into Mrs. Johnson’s classroom on one Monday morning, she’s rambling over how excited she is to have you and Billy working together.

“But Mrs. Johnson, I never agreed to this. How is this fair?” You whine, waving the folder around with wide eyes.

“Miss Y/N, you’ll be doing Billy a huge favor by helping him. He isn’t failing, but he is struggling. He could most definitely use your help.”

Despite all the complaining, Mrs. Johnson doesn’t allow you to pick anyone else. To her convenience, you and Billy are the only ones who haven’t had a designated partner - and now, you really don’t have a choice.

-

The next week, Billy is back in Scoops Ahoy. He can see your snarl from the other side of the mall. He’s got you trapped in cage, and he knows you’re having a hard time trying to adapt to it.

“I knew that he’d pick you.” Steve says through a mouthful of banana, hitting you in the face with its peel. “I mean, you’re the only girl - besides Robin - who hasn’t given into him. He’s probably just trying to cross off your name on his list.”

“He has a list?” You gag dramatically, protesting as Robin pushes you jokingly.

“Dude, Y/N, he’s literally coming over here.” She points at Billy, who actually is coming over.

“I don’t care. Change spots with me. Steve! Robin!” You shout, pulling at the ends of your hair as they run into the back room, locking the door behind them. “Screw you both!”

You turn around, meeting eyes with the damned Billy Hargrove. You fake a smile. If this was a cartoon, steam would certainly be coming out from your ears.

“Bad day?” Billy pouts mockingly at you. His hands rest inside the pockets of his jeans, eyes looking over your angry state. “Should I come back or....”

“Actually, no. But you know what?” You slide yourself over the counter, brushing away at the lint that has accumulated on your blue shorts. “I’m not doing this stupid project alone. You’re staying here till my shift is over. And when it is, you’re gonna drive your ass to my house, where the both of us can work on it. Together. Happy now, douchebag?”

Your breath is almost minty, and somehow feels cool against Billy’s skin. He steps back with a cocky grin, raising his hands as if he were surrending to you.

But he wasn’t surrendering.

“You just gave Team Hargrove one point. But Team Y/L/N? Zero.” Billy snaps with a flash of his pearly whites. He crouches down to your height, hands resting on his thighs. He knows that he is pissing you off. “I’ll see you when you’re done.” Then, you cross your arms at him, nose pointing up as he stands to full height. His eyes flicker down to your lips. “And honestly? I think I’m more of a dick than a douchebag.”

You want to slap the stupid grin of his face. But you don’t. You don’t know the real reason behind it, but you try to convince yourself as to why.

Because it’s against company policy?

Steve and Robin poke their heads out of the other room, coming out when Billy cockily walks away from you. You’re still standing there, eyes narrowed and face drawn into a look of displeasure.

“Should we not bother her?” Steve whispers, elbowing Robin. “I kinda don’t wanna get yelled at right now.”

“No, no, Steve. She’s hotter when she’s angry. Trust me.”

“Guys!” You scoff at them. She laughs at the sudden smile on your face, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I mean, she’s not wrong, Y/N.” Steve shrugs before taking your place at the register. “You’re pretty hot, I guess.”

“Oh, stop it, Harrington. I’m out of your league.” You wink at him, hopping back over the counter.

You let out an exasperated breath when Robin tells you to sort out the shipments in the back. You push the back door open, groaning audibly when you see the tall stack of cardboard boxes. There’s a clipboard on the table in the middle of the room, and you read over it lazily before you begin to sort through the deliveries.

No one really knows why you despise Billy. Not Steve, not Robin, not anyone. It seems as if you had woke up, saw him, and decided that he was someone you disliked.

That was partly true.

But in detail, you did dislike - or hate, whichever was fitting based on your mood - Billy for a few things.

You never understood his sudden popularity, or the sex appeal he carried along with him. You never understood the hair, the smoking, the people he hung around, or the recklessness and the partying.

You just didn’t get it. You didn’t get why people would waste their time around him, when clearly, he wasn’t grateful for any of it.

Maybe your hatred of him spiraled from insecurity.

He had everything. He was popular and easy on the eyes. He was charming and fun. You’d never admit it out loud, but he truly seemed like a good guy, underneath that whole douchebag act of his.

You were nothing alike. Or so you thought.

-

“Honey! There’s someone here for you!” Your mother calls out from the bottom of the stairs, a slight smirk on her face when she realizes how handsome your guest is. You come barreling down the stairs, feet heavy and frowning deeply when you see who’s sitting on the sofa.

“Billy.”

“Y/N!” He comes to meet you, pulling you into an embrace. Your reaction is one of utter shock, because suddenly, all you can smell is expensive cologne and the faint scent of cigarettes. “Your mother was just asking me if we wanted to join her for lunch.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you, but we have to work on a project, Mom.” You send Billy a look, clearing your throat when you see his lips twitch upwards. “We’ll be upstairs.”

Your mom disappears into the living room, giving you both a second glance and a knowing look as you jog up the stairs.

“How do you know where I live?”

“That little girl from the mall? I think she’s Sinclair’s sister. Bought her some ice cream when I saw it fall, she just returned the favor.”

Erica. Damn it.

“Okay, well, I didn’t think you’d be here so soon.” You complain, running your hands through your hair, damp from a shower. Billy follows you into your bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He takes in the sight, something he wouldn’t expect from someone like you. There are various posters plastered onto your soft pink walls - band posters, movie posters, and he huffs at the one of a shirtless man. There’s a record player on top of your bookcase, where you stand, occupied as you flip through your vinyls. “What’s your cup of tea? Queen? The Beatles? Metallica? Foreigner?”

“I really don’t care.” He scoffs, licking his lips as he takes a seat on your bed.

Foreigner it is, then.

“And I really don’t want you on my bed. Get off, Hargrove.” You throw a paper ball at him, hiding the smile on your face when he doesn’t dodge it in time. “Thought you played basketball. What happened to those reflexes?”

With a dramatic eye roll, Billy tosses the ball into the trash, sliding off of the bed and onto the floor instead. You grab the project folder from your study table, sitting down across from him. You’re reading through the directions when Billy starts to light a cigarette.

And you gasp - really loud. “Billy! No! None of that in here.” You take the cigarette from his lips, his coughs fading in the background as you throw it out your window. “Are you crazy?”

“I just wanted a smoke!”

“Yeah?! Then not in here!” You shake your head at him, handing him a sheet of paper as you calm down. “Your turn to read, asshole.”

Your head begins to become fuzzy as Billy’s fingers brush against yours when he grabs the paper.

He reads, voice soft and surprisingly enthusiastic - if he didn’t act like such a dumbass, you’d think he was somewhat intelligent.

(However, you know he is intelligent - somewhere in that douchebag brain of his - though, that’s one of the things you could never admit to anyone).

The room is suddenly blazing hot, uncomfortably warm despite the numerous open windows. The air conditioning isn’t enough, and you’re silently cursing as you feel sweat build up among your skin. You’re fanning yourself, swallowing as you notice the bead of sweat that rolls down the side of Billy’s forehead.

“God damn, it’s hot.” Billy curses, unable to continue reading with how tight his chest feels. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, hoping he could get some sort of air.

“Our air conditioning sucks.” You push your hair back, “Summer’s coming.”

Billy nods in agreement, picking up from where he had left off.

Maybe it’s just the heat, but suddenly, you start to space out.

Your eyes focus on the rise and fall of Billy’s tan chest, how his skin glows with sweat, and how his muscles flex under that shirt of his.

Oh, wow.

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” You snap out of your trance. “Hope you haven’t passed out.” He sets the paper down, leaning back against your bed frame.

“Huh? Sorry, I - I was distracted.”

Don’t let your guard down.

“I was asking which part you wanted to do.”

“Uh, whichever one is the hardest. I can take it.”

And Billy stops breathing. Maybe because there’s some sort of - sexual - euphemism in that sentence, but also because he’s noticing how flushed you look: cheeks red, skin glistening, breaths heavy. Your hair sticks to your arms, resting on the tops of your knees. But then, he sees this look in your eyes.

It’s not the normal glare he gets. But your eyes are softer, less intense, more - was that longing?

You’re just staring at him, lips slightly parted as your eyes quickly drop down to the floor.

“Unless, um, you want the harder part then you can have it, I guess.” You pipe up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You’re avoiding his gaze, and Billy isn’t sure that he recognizes this Y/N.

Did he win you over yet? That easily?

“Here, you can look over it with me again.” Billy scoots beside you, his denim-clad thigh pressed up against your bare one. His breaths are even, blowing over your hands as you hold up the paper. “I was thinking I could do the research on the biographical context and symbolism, and...” He glances over to you, eyes trailing over the expanse of your neck. Your jaw is tightly clenched, but you don’t meet his stare. “... and then, maybe you could do the overall analysis. Or we could do it differently, if this way doesn’t meet your standards, princess.” His voice is low, a sultry tone laced subtly in his words. He peeks his tongue out to lick his lips, and you look over at that exact moment.

Aw, shit. You wouldn’t give up that easily, would you?

He’s not the only one that can play this game.

“No, I like your idea. We can do that.” You turn to him, hair slightly hitting him in the face. You pucker your bottom lip slightly, rolling it between your teeth as you pass him the paper back.

“Is it getting hot in here?”

Not this line.

“Nope, just you.” You let out a sharp exhale, reading over more of the project.

“Whew. I gotta take off my shirt.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull, causing you to drop your pencil. But it’s too late once Billy is pulling his shirt over his head. “Hey!”

Though, he wears a tank top underneath.

And honestly, you’re kind of disappointed.

Wait, what?

He hurls the shirt towards your bed, running his hands through his messy curls. His arms look even bigger, and you can see the faint outline of his abs through the thin, white material. You catch the tattoo on his upper bicep, and you have to put a hand to your mouth from saying anything - now this was ruining you.

Don’t give in.

“Like what you see, Y/L/N?” He flexes his arms in a subtle manner, biting down harshly on his lip. He grunts as he leans over to pick up your pencil, handing it to you. “Didn’t mean to make you drop this.”

Yeah. Apology accepted. Jerk.

“If this is your way of seducing me, it isn’t working.” You cross your ankles over each other, shaking your head at Billy.

He laughs, running his hand through his hair. “And why would I want to seduce you, Y/N?”

The question does sting, but it doesn’t change the fact that his face is literally inches away from yours.

You aren’t done playing the game.

“Oh, I don’t know, Billy. Maybe because I’m the only girl on that - that list of yours that you haven’t yet crossed out? Or is it because you’ve fucked all the pretty girls at school and you’ve finally come to the realization that you’d rather fuck someone with a bit of brains?”

Billy hums with a slow, antagonistic nod, tongue poking out from the corner of his lips. He abruptly stands up, turning up the volume on your record player. He’s dancing. But the bitter look on his face is all you can focus on. You stand up as well, pouting as you lower the volume of the music. It’s a back and forth between you, Billy, and the music.

“The problem with pretty girls, Y/N...” He starts between breaths, still dancing as you stand ahead of him - not happy. “... is that they can’t tell when a guy is no longer interested in them. They got the looks, but no brain.” He chuckles, parting his lips as he taps the side of his head. “And the girls that do have brains? They also got a problem. They’re smart, sure, but they just don’t know when to quit being a bitch.”

That’s when he turns up the music to full volume, hooting in your face as he dances even more.

This was Billy Hargrove at his finest.

“We’re never gonna get this project done if you keep thinking with your dick instead of your head, asshole.” You almost growl. You’re fuming now.

He really knows how to piss a girl off, huh?

“You ever had a boyfriend, Y/N?”

No. Never.

“Yeah, I have. Why?” You gulp, pushing past Billy. You sit down on your bed, continuing on writing your analysis for the project.

“What was his name?”

“Uh - It was - It’s Steve.”

What are you doing?

“You dated Harrington? King Steve?” He slowly stops dancing, panting loudly as he looks down at you.

“Dating him, actually.”

Oh, God.

“Huh. You ever had sex with him?”

“Hargrove, this is getting a little personal.” You chuckle nervously.

“Is that a... no?” He crouches down in front of you, eyes blinking at you. He’s catching on. Surely, you weren’t this good of a liar. “I’ll take that as a no. Must suck, yeah? Harrington doesn’t know how to handle a woman like you. Poor Y/N. You just want a little lovin’ from King Steve...”

His thumb hooks itself under your chin.

And his blue eyes are almost hypnotizing.

“Are you really dating Steve Harrington? ‘Cause you seem a lot out of his league. You’re not even in the ballpark, baby.”

His big hand cups your jaw, fingers rubbing against your skin. Somehow, his hands are freezing - despite the hundred degree weather.

“I have a... boyfriend.”

Billy knows you’re lying now.

“Why are you so cold to me, Y/N?” His eyes are fixed on your lips, flickering up to you when you speak.

“I don’t know. Why are you such a douchebag?”

“Sure. I’m a dick, but you - you’re somethin’ else. You are mean. Steve seems a little soft for someone as headstrong as you.” He shrugs animatedly, “Maybe you’re looking for a - a... thrill.”

“What do you want from me?” You scoff at him.

“I think I know why you hate me.” You hold your breath as he continues, “We’re more alike than you think we are.”

“Yeah? I’d like to hear it, then.”

Deathmatch.

“We both crave something more. Most people go after someone with a little... heat to their name, but us? We thrive in the cold.”

“You’re wrong.” You shake your head at him.

“Then why am I still touching you?” He stands, hands leaving your jaw.

No, come back.

“Billy, this - this isn’t-“

“Surely, your boyfriend wouldn’t like the way I was touching you, wouldn’t he? What’s Steve gonna do if he finds out? Fight me?”

“Steve’s not my boyfriend! Fine! You win!” You explode, rising to your feet.

And it all comes rushing back to you.

You both really are alike.

“You see it now, don’t you? All this competing, this - this fighting, we clash because we’re the same. And it scares you. Because who would’ve thought you had something in common with the douchebag from school, huh?”

He takes a step closer to you. And you do the same to him.

“Smart girls need attention, too.” He says softly, leaning in to whisper at your ear. “But you... you’ve been looking for someone who’s as cold as you. And I respect that, Y/N.”

You make the mistake of locking eyes with him when he pulls back.

“I’m way out of Steve’s league.”

You look down at his plump lips, glancing at how his neck bobs when he pushes your hair behind your shoulder.

There’s an unfamiliar feeling that sparks in your chest when Billy’s fingers trail past your collarbone.

“Can I kiss you now? Because all this tension might give me high blood pressure.” He smirks at you.

You don’t reply.

But you do lean forward, on the tips of your toes, mashing your lips against Billy’s. Your hands are cool against his shimmering skin.

The kiss isn’t sweet, but fueled with fire and pent-up anger. Billy is fast enough to show you that he really wants you, but at the same time, he’s slow, wanting to prove to you that you aren’t just another name on his so-called ‘list.’

You don’t give a shit about winning anymore.

Stubble tickles your cheeks as Billy moves to kiss your neck.

“This doesn’t... this doesn’t change the fact that I still hate you...” You breathe raggedly, screwing your eyes shut at how his mouth feels on your neck.

He tugs at the straps of your tank top, pulling it over your head as he hoists you up into his arms. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you can feel the tightness form in his jeans.

“God, you’ve been such a bitch to me for the past week.” He moans into your skin, pressing you up against your bedroom door as he uses one hand to hold you, and the other to unclasp your bra. You let out a choked moan, only for Billy to place his hand over your mouth. “Don’t forget that your mama is downstairs. What would she think if she saw me doing this to her daughter?”

You bite at his hand, smiling as he groans pleasurably at the sensation.

He’s so rough, but you’re enjoying it.

Billy swivels on the heels of his shoes, laying you down onto your bed as he kisses down your torso. His saliva sticks to your skin, and he chuckles when he watches you arch your back into him. Your hand reaches for his, and he doesn’t pull away - despite how intimate the action is for him.

Billy Hargrove doesn’t hold hands with flings.

That’s how he really knows you aren’t one of them.

“B-Billy...” You gasp as his lips pass over your breasts, his hands cupping and kneading them softly.

He reaches up to kiss you again, whispering, “This isn’t your first time, right?”

You shake your head, “No, no.”

“Okay.” He nods with a grin, taking off his top. “But no one is ever gonna make you feel this good.”

He groans as you crawl to the edge of the bed, playing with him through his jeans. You glance up at him innocently, his fingers card through your hair. You leave short kisses on his abs, slowly making your way up to his neck. You suck and lick at it, surely leaving a prominent mark there. He pulls out his belt, flinging it onto the floor as you unbutton his jeans for him.

He licks his lips, pushing you back down onto the bed. You scoot over, making room for him as he takes off your shorts. You chuckle when he moans at the sight of lace.

“Didn’t know you were wearing those.” He says, obviously surprised as he wraps his fingers around the waistband, letting it snap against your skin. You gasp, letting his hands wander over your back.

“Just be glad I’m letting you see them.”

He flips you over so that you’re on your knees, ass in his face as he pulls the lace panties past your ankles.

You bite back a loud moan. His face and his mouth is down there and you swear you’ve entered heaven itself.

Hell was too hot for the both of you, anyways.

He hums against you, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge as he toys with you in places you didn’t even know existed. He pulls away, causing you to whimper.

But as you look back at him, the sight is enough to make you cum. His boxers are nowhere to be seen, and instead, he’s touching himself, grinning as he sees the dumbfounded expression on your face.

“You’re okay with this?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows. You’re shaking your head. “I need to hear it out loud.” He kisses your lower back, hands caressing your ass.

“Yes. Please.”

“Condom?”

You wink, rubbing yourself against him. “On the pill.”

Billy lets out a moan, chuckling. “Mm, that’s my girl.”

You hold back a breath as he pushes himself into you. He’s huge, and it stings with how much he’s stretching you out. You let out a sob of pleasure, hand coming to touch Billy’s upper thigh.

“Slow?” He asks, voice gruff as he bottoms out. You’re sure that he’s as deep as possible, but part of you longs for him to go even deeper.

“No, fast.”

Billy pulls out, only to slam back in. His movements are quick, hips thrusting at a rapid pace. You’re moaning, falling into the mattress with how good he feels inside you.

“Holy fuck!” He grunts as he leans over you, hand coming to rest by your face. He outstretches his fingers, and you take his hand into yours. “Y/N...”

“We have to - to be quiet...” You moan once more, throwing your head back as his arm wraps around your stomach, pulling you closer to him.

He pounds into you, grunting as silently as possible. You can feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Good girl, such a good girl for me.” He cries out, taking a fistful of your hair. You yelp out of surprise when he gently pulls you back.

You liked that.

“D-do that again.” You stutter, mumbling incoherent words when he repeats the action.

The record player still plays music.

And you’re so grateful that it’s loud enough to silence the filthy sounds between you and Billy.

Thank God for that.

But this... this was a whole new level of sinful.

Billy brings a hand to touch your throat. And you nod in approval, shutting your eyes when you feel the pads of his fingers tighten around your airway. He’s still soft and cautious, but the way he was fucking you was enough to send you into overdrive.

Your hand comes up from the bed, jaw hanging open in utter bliss as you flex your fingers. “I’m gonna cum. Billy, holy, I-“

“C’mon, baby.” Thrust. “I’m right there...” Thrust. “...With you.”

You’re cumming.

Your legs are shaking and you feel the wave of heat fall over your body like a spell. Billy follows shortly, groaning sinfully as he buried himself inside you. He pulls out, pumping himself as he lets himself go onto your body. You feel the warm drops of his cum drizzle across your back and over your ass, trickling down your thighs and between your legs before you fall onto the bed.

“Oh, my god.” You sigh, curling up. Billy falls beside you, eyes studying your features for any sign of pain or sadness.

“Was that okay?”

“I just had sex with Billy Hargrove. Oh, my-“ Your hand comes up to massage your temples.

He chuckles.

“And I just had sex with you, so I guess we’re pretty even.” He states, kissing your neck one last time.

He’ll give it to you.

You both win.

But who said that the game would be over?

-

“Here’s the project, Mrs. Johnson.” You smile respectfully, exchanging glances with Billy as you hand her the folder. Her eyes bounce from you both, hands sorting through the papers of the project.

“This looks good.” She nods, eyebrows raised when she finds the part that Billy had worked on. “Wow, Y/N must’ve been a great help to you, Billy.”

“Yeah. She helped me a lot.”

Billy links his pinky with yours under the table, where your thigh rests against his. His fingers come to toy with the hem of your skirt, and his touch: cold.

“Well, I might say that this project deserves an A. It looks very well-planned and thought out.” She takes off her reading glasses, placing them carefully on her desk as she re-organizes your papers. “How would you feel about an extra credit project, Billy? Just to boost your grade a little more before the year ends?”

You and Billy share a knowing grin.

It’s wicked.

It’s spiteful.

It’s cold as ice.

But there’s an inextinguishable heat that lingers between the two of you.

“As long as Miss Y/N can be of help to me.” He flashes a charming smile, hands coming up to rest on the wooden desk.

“Of course, Mr. Hargrove.”

You shut the door of the classroom behind you, following Billy into the bustling hallway towards the cafeteria.

He turns to you and winks as he rounds the corner, denim jacket slung over his shoulder.

“See you later, partner.”

“Later, douchebag.”

Oh, how you loved the cold.

[st-fandom-imagines]

Different Outcome

TRIGGER WARNING- COMING OUT, UNACCEPTING PARENTS Hi! I has rewrite this imagine because my laptop crashed as I was about to post it :( I hope you enjoy this imagine and where I took it! tag list- @tiger-hugger and @hannahmontanabutgayer let me know if you guys want to be added to my tag list! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ Request-anonymous asked: 10,29,39, and 77 for my bby robin please? i love your work sm 💓🌈 10-“I’m right here, okay?” 29-“it’s okay to cry” 39-“it just…hurts.” 77-“there is nothing wrong with you” ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ As I walked into Family video, I dried my tears and sniffled, hoping that Steve and Robing wouldn't noticed that something was up with me. We all opened and closed the store today because we had new releases coming in so we were going to be busy most of the day so maybe they wont notice. As soon as I walked in, both of their heads turned to see me walking in, Robin shot me a smile making my heart skip a beat, she always had that affect on me, while Steve waved at me. "Hi, guys!" I let out a fake smile making them both look at each other and then look back at me, shit, these two don't skip a beat. "Your eyes are red, what's wrong?" Robin quizzed making me sigh as I walked around the counter to get inside of it so I could put my purse down and put on my name tag. "Your voice sounds scratchy, have you been crying?" She continued making me laugh and shake my head. "Nothing, allergies." I promised, walking over to Steve and trying to take the returned movie bin from him so I could start my job, hoping to keep my mind off of what had happened this morning. Steve held the box closer to him making me raise my eyebrows at him. "Don't lie to us (Y/N)." He stated, making me rip the box from his hands and walk towards the back of the store. "Come on Harrington, you know I'm stronger than you." I smirked as I walked away from the pair. We had a table in the back of the store that we were suppose to organize the returned movies on, put them back in the bin and then stock them back on the shelf and lucky for me, the table was away from Robin and Steve. I heard footsteps behind me, hoping it was customer that had been quite until now, that was until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned my head to see Robin next to me, a small smile spread across her lips. "You can talk to us you know." She promised making me nod, as I turned back to the movies, hoping she wouldn't see the tears that were welling up in my eyes, I didn't want her to see me cry. "It's okay to cry." She comforted making me sigh and put the movies down that were in my hands and I looked back at her, knowing she wasn't going to stop until I talked to her about what I was upset about. "I'm just having a bad day, sometimes I feel like I don't fit in or there is something wrong with me, and this morning really cemented that for me." I huffed before I continued to organized the movies, Robin sighed, stepping around the table so that she was standing in front of me. "There is nothing wrong with you...what makes you say that?" She whispered, as one of her hands reached out for mine, stopping me from moving any more movies around, I felt my checks begin to heat up at the contact. The movies were good enough, I pulled away from her, picking up the box and walked towards my first section, comedy. I knew she was following me, I just had to change the subject, I had to get her to think about something else but before I could say anything I felt a pair of hands on my waist, making me whip around, only to see Steve in front of me. Confusion filled my body until he ripped the box from my hands and ran away from me. "You may be stronger, but I'm faster!" He shouted making me laugh, what a moron. I turned around to walk back to the back of the store to see what else I could do since Steve stole my job but I was met by Robin blocking my way. "You are going to talk to me." She demanded making me sigh, now she was starting to upset me. "Why do you care so much?!" I yelled, taking her by surprise, I just sighed once again. This wasn't her fault and I shouldn't be taking it out on her, when all she has been doing it checking on me since I walked in the door. I knew Robin liked girls but I didn't think she would like me so I never told her or Steve about my sexuality so they must have just assumed I was straight, maybe it was time to tell them. "I came out to my parents today, my mom cried, my dad called me a disappointment. They both told me that I would go to hell, they acted like I meant nothing to them, the people that are suppose to love me unconditionally." I confessed, walking over to the back wall of that section, sliding down it to see on the ground, Robin doing the same. "It just...hurts. We are all so close, I didn't think they would act like that, I'm their daughter, who I'm attracted to shouldn't change that, and now I'm all alone, they were suppose to love me no matter what." I sighed out, crying softly as Robin just looked at me in awe. "Listen, I love you and I know Steve loves you. We're just..um..complicated. Steve was still my friend when I told him about being gay so I doubt he would stop being friends with you over it. Parents are different, they are very set in their ways, maybe one day they will come around but you don't need them. You have us, you have your own peace of mind that you know who you are." She swore making me tears begin to slow, she took my hands in hers, rubbing my knuckles softly with her thumbs. "I love you. I'm right here, okay?" She smiled before I leaned into her, connecting our lips, one of her hands leaving mine to cup my cheek in her hand, kissing me back. "Oh shit, finally!" Steve yelled making us both pull away and look at the boy that was standing in front of us, making us both laugh. I rested my head on her shoulder before we both sighed, both of us stood up from the ground, hands intertwined and walked towards Steve. I wrapped my free arm around his shoulders as we all walked towards the front of the store. I knew I had to tell Steve what I told Robin, and I would, this time getting a different out come than this morning. It was nice to know that I had both of them, Robin especially, it was strange to know that my parents couldn't love me through being attached to girls but two people who didn't know me before this summer, could. It really shows me how strange things can really be.