#steve harrington x yn smut

[buckysgrace]

6. Bed on Fire

Broken Hearts Club Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Distance between you and Steve leaves you worried until he returns with good news.

CW: Unprotected sex, public sex

You felt lonely the next few days, going unanswered by both Steve and Patty. You didn’t even see Steve around at the mall to ask him what you had done. You had gone from seeing him everyday to not at all. You feared that he had somehow found out the truth. That this was it. 

Then again you figured that Patty would’ve said something. Unless by some sick twist of fate they had gotten back together. You shivered at that thought, not liking it one bit. 

“What are you doing, bug?” Your grandpa asked you, calling you by your former childhood nickname. You peeked your head towards him before you glanced back at the shadows coming from the sun that was dipping into your room. 

“Don’t know,” You admitted, heels still planted against the side of your wall, “I’m bored.” You told him honestly, too distracted to even try to open the books that you had gotten from the library earlier this week. Your mind kept drifting back to Steve. 

“You could help me out back.” He suggested, making you wrinkle your lips together. Being outside in the hot sun didn’t sound fun unless Steve was there to keep you company. 

“What are you doing?” You asked curiously, deciding that if you laid on the floor any longer you’d melt into the floorboards. 

“Trying to get the tractor fixed,” He muttered, looking angry suddenly. He’d spent the past three years trying to get it fixed, hoping that he could enter it into the tractor pulls at the fair, “I think I’m almost there.”

“I don’t know much about that stuff.” You admitted as you sat up slowly, thinking that it might be fun to try and read again. He chuckled at the way you tried to busy yourself suddenly. 

“Sounds like a good time to learn.” He added, taking a step back as he waited for you to follow. You sighed, deciding you might as well give it a try. Steve wouldn’t be coming by today either. 

Sweat coated the back of your neck as you worked out in the summer heat with him, your fingers covered in sludge and grease as you tried to make sense of what you were working on. You supposed you weren’t doing that bad of a job, as he hadn’t yelled at you yet. 

You made the long trek back to the porch, in desperate need for a glass of water and to scrub your hands. You wished your grandpa would’ve brought the radio out, that would’ve made it a bit more fun. 

“Steve.” You stopped in surprise, almost tripping over the old floorboard as you blinked in confusion. He was at the edge of your driveway, still bearing his work uniform. You shook your head, not quite understanding why he was here now. 

“Hey,” He smiled stiffly, forcing his hands into his pockets, “It’s been a minute.” He said awkwardly, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet as you thought about demanding answers. But then you were fearful of what he knew. Of what he didn’t know. 

“Yeah,” You laughed awkwardly as you leaned against your porch, “I haven’t seen you in a while.” You told him, wondering if you should bring up how you’d tried to call him. You had even debated showing up at his house, but that seemed too desperate. 

“I’ve been busy,” He admitted, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets as he rocked himself back and forth, “I’m free now. If you are.” He added softly, having the decency to at least look ashamed of leaving you in the dark. 

“I need to wash my hands,” You held up your fingers, showing off the grease stains, “But if you give me five minutes I’ll be ready.” You told him, unable to resist the smile that formed across his lips. It made your heart flutter so intensely that you had forgotten about the past few days. All was forgiven. 

“Sure,” He nodded his head quickly, “I’ll wait here.” He added as he gestured in front of him, earning a small laugh from you before you carefully opened the door with your messy hands. 

You bounded back inside, careful to keep from trudging any grease or dirt inside of the house as you raced towards the kitchen sink. You scrubbed and scrubbed, then searched for a mirror to try and make yourself look as presentable as possible. And to freshen up a bit. You didn’t want to stink. 

All messes were left behind as you greeted him again, your hand instantly falling to his as he reached for you. Something about this just felt right. It made you nervous yet giddy at the same time. 

“Where have you been?” You asked as you walked with him, following him into the woods as he carried a rolled up blanket underneath his free arm. You were curious as to where you were going, as this was certainly the long way to his house. 

“I was helping Nancy out with some things.” He said slowly, flicking his eyes towards you for a brief second before he looked away. The statement rang around in your ears for a moment. 

“Wheeler?” You asked him, watching the slow way he nodded his head in agreement, “Your ex?” You asked in confirmation, trying not to let the jealousy monster fill you. You had no right to be jealous. 

“Yeah,” He replied softly, chewing on his bottom lip, “It’s not like that though.” He tried to convince you, but your mind was already swirling with thoughts. He sat the blanket down, sitting down a second later as he waited for you to join him. But you had frozen on the spot. 

People had whispered that he had changed because of her, and became a better person. You hadn’t really believed it, not at first. You could remember when he was kind and sweet to you, but now you weren’t so sure. Did he really like you? Or were you just some sort of replacement? He had been struggling to go on a date. Maybe Patty was right. You were just an opportunity for him.

You reminded yourself that you shouldn’t be upset anyways. This was all a bet anyways. It was nothing serious. You were just supposed to break his heart. In a similar way you felt yours cracking at the moment.

“I don’t like her like that anymore,” He persisted, telling you quickly, “We’re just friends.” He insisted, but you weren’t grabbing the bait just yet.

“I think it’s hard to be friends with your ex.” You told him honestly, wrinkling your eyebrows together as a bitter taste filled your mouth. Why did you care anyways?

“You’re friends with my ex,” He pointed out, making you pout. It wasn’t the same thing, “And I wasn’t helping her, she was helping me.” He explained, leaving you even more curious than before. 

“With what?” You asked, wondering why he couldn’t just come to you for help. He had ignored you in order to speak to her. It didn’t make sense to you. 

“College stuff,” He flushed, “I thought it would be easier for us to go on dates if we’re close together.” He admitted, leaving your lungs void of air.

Oh. Fuck.

You nearly felt sick at the revelation, realizing that this whole time he had been planning on growing closer to you. He was trying to move with you. To create a future. And you had just been trying to convince yourself that your relationship was nothing.

“You’re making me nervous.” He said at last, brown eyes filled with worry as he stared at you. You almost couldn’t hear him over the sound of your heart racing. 

“I’m nervous.” You clarified as you gulped harshly, trying to keep your nerves from coming up. What were you supposed to do now? Is this when you were supposed to break things off? To break his heart. 

“Is it too soon?” He asked, looking worried. Looking like you had just stabbed him. His brown eyes were soft as they searched your features, trying to find any cracks within you. You couldn’t do this.

“No, I mean-,” You paused, trying to gather your thoughts, “I just didn’t expect it.” You admitted as you bit your bottom lip, thinking of how to go forward.

“I didn’t really either,” He admitted with a smile, “But I really like you.” He breathed out gently, taking your hand as he brought you onto your knees with him. 

You were stunned, speechless as your tongue remained twisted into a giant knot. You didn’t know what to do, nor what to say. You hadn’t really expected him to fall for you so easily, yet here you were. 

“Hey,” He looked at you in concern, gently touching your elbow, “Are you okay?” He looked concerned, worried as he brought you out of your thoughts.

“I’m fine,” You breathed out quickly, heart fluttering harshly in your chest, “I really like you too.” You admitted, almost fearfully as you brought your eyes to him.

“Yeah?” He questioned you, his lips curling into a little smirk as you rolled your eyes. Not so bashful now.

“Don’t get so cocky,” You laughed, pulse racing as he traced his lips over yours gently. You pressed your fingers against his bicep, holding onto him for support as he dragged his mouth against yours, “I’m a mess.”

“Not to me,” He smiled softly as he pecked the corner of your lips, “You look stunning.” He mumbled, pressing his fingertips against the hem of your shirt. You gulped, following his motions as you both slowly undressed each other in the sunlight. 

You giggled against his mouth as you pulled him free of his uniform, earning a little laugh from him as you exposed his bare chest to the open sky. You brushed your fingers through his chest hair, grinning as he nipped at your bottom lip.

He laid you down gently against the blanket, keeping the blades of grass from digging into your skin too roughly as he moved his hands down your curves. You breathed in and out, reminding your lungs how to work as his lips fell against the crook of your neck.

Everything burned as he spread your legs apart, gently pressing his legs in between yours. He felt hot over your body, his cock falling heavily against your slick cunt. You raised your hips forward, inviting the feeling of his girthy tip against your soaked hole.

You shook underneath him, your fingertips digging into the blanket as he slid his long dick inside of your fluttering walls. Everything felt right, too perfect as your mind grew hazy with pleasure. The sounds that left his lips were deep and blissful, white hot as he filled you to the brim.

“Steve,” You whispered as you clung to him, gaping in awe as you rolled your hips forward to feel all of him. The tip of his cock pressed deep inside of you, tickling against your bundle of nerves as your thighs trembled, “You feel so good.” You breathed out, moving your hands up to run them through his hair.

His eyes were slightly darker, half lidded as his blissful expression intensified as his grip tightened against your flesh. He rocked his hips backwards slowly, then pressed himself even deeper inside of you. You gaped, squeaking softly as the pleasure grew white hot.

His nose brushed against yours, sincere and soft as he rutted his cock in and out of your drenched walls. Your clit ached in pleasure, your toes curling as you linked your body closer to his. You were in awe of how close you were, that you could get any closer.

You dragged your eyes down his chest, meeting the area of where your bodies were connecting. You gaped at the sight of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt with ease. He gripped the base of his cock, giving himself a little squeeze before he dragged himself deeper into you.

“You feel heavenly,” He groaned, lips messy against your own, “She’s squeezing me so tight.” He huffed, making your insides twist and turn once again. You rocked yourself against him, fingertips digging into his flesh. 

The sound of your bodies meeting created a dirty symphony, intense and lustful at the same time. But there was something sweet about it, something in his touch that was deep and sincere. The pleasure was overwhelming, making your body shake underneath his touch.

“You’re doing so good,” He breathed out, air hot against your cheek as you crooned in response, “So sweet for me, honey.” He whispered, voice higher pitched as he linked your fingers with his. 

You cried out as his cock continually hit your bundle of nerves, leaving you twitching and gasping in pleasure. You felt like you were on fire as you crashed your lips against his, desperately licking away his sounds of pleasure as he rutted deeper and deeper into you.

His fingers fell to your clit, pressing down deeply as your lips fell open against his. You squeaked, moans rolling off of the top of the trees as your cunt clamped down around his thick girth. You shook as you came, chanting his name as everything else fell away.

His teeth grazed against your neck, heavy breaths falling against your skin as you squeezed your fingers tightly with his. He grunted deeply, spreading pleasure deep inside of you as his hips came to a slow stall.

“Fuck,” He groaned, tossing his head back slowly as he shut his pretty eyes. You gripped his fingers for support, holding onto him tightly as he came deep inside of you. Dangerous, but you liked the way he felt. How you felt right now, “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered to you, leaving you bashful all over again.

“So are you,” You teased, moving a hand away gently to stroke the side of his cheek, “Thank you.” You whispered, wishing that you could tell him more. Not right now. Later. You didn’t want to ruin this moment right now. 

“College is going to be fun.” He stated between heavy breaths, laughing as a smile fell onto your lips. You breathed out deeply, licking your bottom lip as you thought everything over. How could you have a future with him if you had such a big secret?

You knew what you had to do.

[damon-loves-pie]

Steve Harrington x chubby (plus size) female reader's first time together.

18+

Heavy breaths came out in pants while Steve thrusted against you, both hands firmly gripping onto the fleshy skin of your hips.

Why the fuck hadn't I done this earlier? He questioned himself, his eyes fixated on the way the soft skin on your ass recoiled as his hips sped up pace.

Grunts and whines escaping from how your thighs shook with each movement. Your cellulite being comparable to artwork, the way it splattered across them.

With one quick motion you were on your side, a starving Steve above you, eyes scanning your body. Something so different but so same to others he had seen before, tongue rolling against his bottom lip in desperation.

Every curve, roll, and canny being memorized while his long fingers dug into your hip, pushing his hips back into yours deeply, wanting to know how each part of you moves. 

His eyes rolling back with a groan as you looked back at him with hooded eyes, the little rolls of your love handles sticking out as he pounded you into the mattress forcing you to gasp out his name.

"God you're so beautiful honey." He mumbled, meaning every word that dripped from his lips. "Every part of you." He breathed, one hand tracing the stretch marks on your hips, while the other lifted the one thigh to his chest, needing to be deeper.

He'd know he was done for when you came, back arching off the mattress, small scream of his name as your plush tummy folded towards him. Making his hips sputter with a jerk, as a choked out moan escaped his lips, the ecstasy from his body spilling deep inside of you.

A small growl escaping as he pulled back, watching it dribble down the valley of your thighs, fingertips pressing roughly into them.

[xspeter]

steve harrington x fem!reader

• suggestive content but not really smut, angst, unrequited love (but not really)

• trying to get back into my writing flow so here’s a short little blurb for yall!!

—

Honestly, you weren’t sure how you ended up here again.

Steve Harrington’s bedroom is one that has become familiar to you— from the silky bed sheets to the linen plaid walls. (He claims he’d gotten the wallpaper when he was five and hadn’t gotten around to changing them.) And even though you know you’re capable of so much, you’d gotten into Brown University for Gods sake, you still found yourself here every weekend. In Steve Harrington’s bedroom.

It’s always pretty much the same; Steve calls you with that same sultry tone, asking what you were doing and if you’d like to come over, and you cancel whatever plans you already had and stumble over to his large, empty home.

You’re not sure why you do it— maybe it’s because the lingering taste of weed and mint ignites some hidden fire in your belly. Or maybe it’s the way he whispers flirty compliments in your ears, murmuring how you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. How he wanted to make you feel good. How he wanted you.

But, there is no better feeling than him. Him, filling up all five of your senses. Him, gently rocking into you like he’ll break you if he grips you too hard. Him, kissing you so sloppily that you start to forget where his tongue starts and yours ends.

But for Steve, this is just sex. It has always been just sex.

It’s not his fault you’d found yourself wanting more than that.

Regret always builds in your stomach when it’s over, especially when Steve cleans you up so sweetly, leaving soft kisses on your sensitive thighs. Did so good for me, he whispers, and you feel the familiar burn of tears building in the back of your throat.

Steve crawls up to lay next to you, making sure you’re tucked in and comfortable before turning his back to you and slowly dozing off.

You watch the rise and fall of his freckled back, his muscles softly rippling with every twitch of his body. The urge to reach out and hold him lingers in your fingertips, but you resist it, instead settling to just look.

Even though you know you shouldn’t indulge, you allow yourself to imagine what a life with him would entail.

Mornings filled with coffee and french toast, his hands wrapped around your waist as he kissed you goodbye. Weekends spent curled up on the couch, a blanket shared between you both as you laughed at whatever SitCom played on the TV. Nights spent much similar to this one, except ending with him holding you and whispering those three words into your hairline.

When your tear line begins to water you force yourself to look away, instead looking up towards the popcorn ceiling. Softly, you allow a sob to leave your lips.

Steve will never love you like you love him, you know that, so why was it so hard to accept?

Steve does his best to lay completely still, his heart heavy at the sound of your broken sob. It’s not fair to you and he knows that, but doesn’t he deserve to be selfish? After all the shit he’s gone through, doesn’t he deserve this?

He just hates that you’re hurt in the process.

Subconsciously, he hopes that you’ll find the strength to get up and leave him. He hopes that you’ll finally let go of him and find the person who will treat you how you deserve, who will love you unconditionally and love you openly.

But, Steve can’t be that person for you. It’s too dangerous, too risky. You would just turn up being collateral damage like everyone else he loved.

Keeping you at this distance is the right thing, even if it hurts him— even if he fucking hates it. Even if he wants to turn around and pull you into him, tell you that he’s sorry, that he wants you, that he needs you.

That he loves you.

You hiccup again, sucking in a shaky breath as your lower lip trembles. In another world, Steve Harrington loves you like you love him. In another world, Steve Harrington didn’t have all this emotional trauma that keeps him from leaning over to kiss you. To hold you.

In another world, Steve Harrington is yours and you are his.

[ameliora-j]

Can we get a blurb on Steve making the reader squirt for the first time?

𐐪𐑂 it’s twisted tuesday! send in ur requests ᵕ̈

content: fingering, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, squirting, spitting, clit play, cnc, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MDNI

your newest pickup from the bookstore rests in your hands as you read silently on steve’s bed. the man is sitting at his desk, some tv show or other playing on the tv. “babe, i’m bored” steve whines for what feels like the hundredth time.

“entertain yourself, stevie. i’m reading” you mumble, continuing to read the book. steve lets out a deep sigh, silence continuing in the room once more. there’s a moment before you hear shuffling as steve stands from his desk chair.

you don’t budge, continuing to read your book untill you feel steve’s hands on your thighs, spreading them apart. you frown, furrowing your brows as you peek around your book to look at him. “what are you doing, steve?” you ask curiously.

“entertaining myself” he shrugs simply, tugging his sweats that you’d borrowed down your legs. you gasp, shivering a bit at the cold before you return to your book, letting steve do what he wants. your eyes continue to scan the page as steve pushes your panties aside.

he leans forward, pursing his lips and spitting on your clit, watching it trail down to your pulsing hole. you moan softly, your hips bucking a bit at the warm sensation as steve rubs his thumb down your slit to spread the saliva.

he presses down on your clit, beginning to circle the little nub gently as he watches the way your cunt reacts to his touch with a soft smile. your whines turn into soft moans, hips involuntarily bucking against his hand as your eyes fight to stay focused on the words you’re reading.

it’s barely five minutes before you’re cumming, head falling back against the pillows as your book tumbles from your hold. “steve… stevie” you moan, your eyes rolling in pleasure as he gives you an orgasm from clit play alone. immediately after, steve’s lips wrap around your clit as two fingers prod your entrance.

you whine, trying to push his head away as he sucks on your clit, curving his fingers up everytime he fucks back into you. your fingers tangle in his locks, tugging at his hair as tears spill over your waterline. “stevie i can’t” you whine, shaking your head.

he hums, pulling off your clit with a soft ‘pop.’ “honey, jus relax. read y’book like you were ‘m entertaining myself” he winks, his thumb stroking over your clit once more. “this isn’t for you” he says simply before his mouth is reattaching to your clit.

steve is relentless, continuing untill he’s pulled four orgasms out of you. your legs are shaking weakly as tears spill down your cheeks. one of steve’s hands is rested on your lower stomach, the other fucking three fingers deep into you, prodding your gspot repeatedly. “please i… please i can’t” you whine, shaking your head as he begins kitten licking your clit.

“you can, baby” he nods. “one more n i promise i’m done” he smiles, pressing a soft kiss to the fat bud. your hips jolt, your eyes rolling as you grind on his hand. his lips attach to your clit again, sucking harshly as he fucked you faster with his fingers.

for a moment, time stopped. your eyes rolled all the way to the back of your head as your thighs clamped shut around steve’s. your body shook violently as you tugged on his hair, crying out his name. stars danced across your vision as cum gushed from your cunt like a waterfall, steve fucking you through it as you soaked him and his sheets.

when you come to, steve is kneeling over you, dripping in your essence as he looks down at you awestruck. you flush in embarrassment as you look up at him with wide eyes, his eyes darkened with lust. “you made such a pretty mess, baby…” he whispers, leaning down and kissing your clit. “good girl.”

[stvharrngton]

omg ky what about. 20 and 25 from the list u just reblogged with steeb ofc

— @inkluvs

coming right up <3 hope u enjoy !!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, oral (f and m receiving), sixty-nine, throat fucking, spanking

prompt: "breathe through your nose" and "does that feel good?" from this (x) list

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke

“Fuck,” Steve moaned out.

His eyes were dark and heavy as he stared right into your dripping core. Steve was naked, lay on his back on his bed as you were above, on top of him.

He never thought you would both end up here when you started making out on his bed, but then one by one your clothes ended up on the floor and when you asked if you could try something new, something different, all the blood in his body rushed south.

He hadn’t even touched you yet and he had your pussy dripping on his tongue, the boy moaning just at the sight of you like this for him. You ghosted your fingers up the shaft of his thick cock, a drivel of saliva leaving your lips and landing on the tip. 

Steve’s hands are gripping your ass, fingers pulling and kneading at the flesh. Large palms hot on your soft skin. Once you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, Steve went hell for leather.

Sure, he was always enthusiastic when he went down on you, licking and sucking at your pussy like a man starved but this was something else. It’s like Steve was addicted to you, addicted to your taste, your scent and he’d been starved for days and now he was finally getting his next fix.

He’s soft with it, tongue swirling around your cunt as his lips move over you gently but with just the right amount of pressure. The tip of his tongue dipping in and out of your hole as he moaned and groaned into you, toes curling into the sheets as Steve resisted the urge to fuck his cock up into your warm mouth.

You moaned around Steve’s cock, the vibrations rolling through his body as his length twitched in your mouth. His eyes rolled back, fingers digging into your doughy thighs. He pulled away from you for a beat, the pad of his thumb brushing over your puckered hole before he delivers a soft smack to your ass.

Steve presses his lips over your pussy softly, moaning out below you, “You taste so fucking sweet, baby.” He brought his finger to your entrance now, his index digit pushing into your hole, curling and fucking in and out of you slowly. 

You released Steve’s cock as your mouth relaxed, letting out an obnoxiously loud moan. He kept going though, filthy words continuing to leave his mouth, “Does that feel good? Little pussy’s just dripping for me, isn’t she?”

Trying your best to turn your attention back to Steve’s aching cock, you all but failed as he continued to lick at you. You settled for rolling his heavy balls in the palm of your hand, your tongue licking at the underside of the head of his cock.

Steve buried his face in your pussy, skilled tongue licking itself all over, a mixture of spit and your juices covering his mouth and chin, the stickiness spreading to your thighs. 

“Fuck, I can’t, Stevie–” you groaned, eyes fluttering closed, “mouth feels too good, shit.”

“Come on, baby,” he cooed, a light teasing tone lurking beneath his voice, “you asked for this, hm? Don’t give up on me now.” You couldn’t see but Steve was smirking below you, a stupid sexy smirk that you would normally love to wipe right from his face, “You’re so good at sucking my cock, pretty girl.”

You whined at his words, desperate to refocus but you just couldn’t. Steve was too good, too intense. You were overwhelmed to say the least, but you powered through, rolling his balls in your palm a final time before something in Steve snapped.

The boy bent his knees, strong arms wrapping around your lower back as your eyes widened in suspense and anticipation. “Breathe through your nose, baby.” was all he said as Steve began to rut his hips up off of the mattress.

“Oh,” Steve groaned, lips brushing over your cunt, ���there you go, baby, that’s it. Good girl.” 

Steve fucked his cock in and out of your warm, wet mouth, his tip brushing the back of your throat with every thrust of his hips. All you can do is whine and whimper around his length, your eyes squeezed shut as Steve regains his composure and goes straight back to burying his face in your pussy.

You instinctively begin to roll your hips, grinding your cunt against Steve’s tongue as the tears begin to well in the corner of your eyes, your lashes wet, the salty water leaking down your cheeks. You’re not sure how much longer you can last, the tears are streaming now, your mouth is covered in saliva, saliva that’s dribbling all over Steve’s thick cock all the way down to his balls.

Steve’s thighs begin to tense as he smacks your ass once more, fucking your mouth so full of his cock, his tongue lapping and sucking at your puffy clit, it was all too much. You went into overdrive, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. 

Your pussy was soaking, creamy and leaking all over Steve’s waiting mouth. He took it gladly, lapping up everything that you had to give him. He groaned into you, toes curling into the sheets as his fingers caressed your waist softly.

He wasn’t far behind you, his body tensing all over as he leaped over the edge with a few more strokes of his cock. Your mouth is too tight and wet, too warm and inviting. The movements of his tongue on you ceased, his lips still brushing against you but the only thing that was leaving his mouth was whimpers of your name and incoherent moans as Steve rode through his orgasm.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, skin clammy, hair sticking to his forehead, his chest heaving with heavy breaths.

You were in no better state, your skin hot and shivery. You crawled off of Steve as gracefully as you could, rolling into his side as he wrapped you up in his arms.

“We are definitely doing that again.” Steve chirped, a coy grin on his face as he pressed his lips to yours.

[musings-of-a-college-dork]

Oh, Pretty Woman...

Steve Harrington x Fem!Henderson!Reader

Word count: roughly 5.5K

Y/N Henderson has been away from Hawkins for a while…but she’s come home only to realize her long held feelings for Steve Harrington. So when he invites her over for their usual dinner making hang out, things play out a bit differently than usual. 

Warnings: NSFW (mdni), terms of endearment, fluffy Steve, slight season 3 spoiler (Robin has a partner), one OC (Jude), very fluffy smut, watching of Pretty Woman, not proof read.

Author’s note: Ok this has been a long time coming BUT I wanted to make sure it was everything I wanted it to be before posting! Enjoy some very fluffy Steve smut!  

Y/N had been pacing back and forth all afternoon. She was overthinking this. She was totally overthinking this.

“It’s just movie night and dinner,” she said aloud as she help up her outfit options, “Like you used to do…Stop being so…ugh.” Finally, she realized there was only one thing to fix this. She walked over, picked up her phone, and dialed the number she knew by heart. 

“Hello, this is Jude?”

“Hey, it’s Y/N,” Y/N said as she flopped down onto her bed, knowing they would set her straight if she was spinning out about this and not seeing it for what it was. 

“Holy shit what’s wrong?” They sat on their bed, hearing their friend’s heart beat practically echo through the phone.

“Nothing ... .ok um…” Y/N tried to think of how to start this, “You know Steve and I make dinner together whenever I’m visiting town?” 

“Oh my god,” Jude sat back on their bed. “Yes? Are you seeing him?” Jude’s brows were raised as Robin came in to water the plants in their bedroom. “Seeing Steve I mean.” They whispered to no avail, because Robin heard everything.

“Steve?” She asked. Jude motioned for them to be quiet.

“Oh god is Robin there?” Y/N asked as she could hear another voice, wanting to crawl up in a hole because if Robin knew she was overreacting she was totally gonna tell Steve.

“Hang on,” They tried to comfort Y/N. “Robin, honey, I need a moment.”

“No, no it’s fine as long as she swears not to mention this to Steve, ever,” Y/N said, emphasis on the ever. 

“No,” Jude said. “Robin, you know I love you. But I need a moment with my sister.” Robin nodded, ruffling Jude’s hair as she walked out of their tiny bedroom, closing the door. “Tell me.”

“Ok so Steve invited me over to do like dinner and stuff which we do a lot when I’m home since he can’t cook, well he couldn’t cook when we started,” Y/N rambled, “He’s actually really good now when he tries-”

“Okay Y/N, sweetie, get to the meat.” Jude was waiting with baited breath to hear what she said.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N finally admitted, “To go over. I’m nervous.” 

“And….is this… a new thing? You said you’ve been going over for a while now.”

“Yeah the nerves are new,” Y/N said with a sigh as she moved to look at the outfits she had been deciding between, “I mean it’s the first time we’ve hung out in a while and…I wasn’t nervous then but I am now. I mean, Jude, I’ve been through every outfit in my closet, I’ve showered and like an everything shower, and….ugh!” 

“Oh god, an everything shower?” Their tone, usually mocking, was warm. “Well…are you planning…well let me rephrase. Do you want something to happen tonight?”

“What?” Y/N asked, the thought suddenly coming to her mind, “I…oh my god…I….” 

“Do you?”

“Yes,” Y/N said honestly, “I…I really hadn’t thought about it because I was so busy with stuff,” a lie, Y/N had thought about Steve every day, “but…it would explain a lot of things.” 

“THINGS??” Jude sat up. “HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?? THINGS??”

“I mean,” she thought for a second before going, “I don’t know! I mean I’ve always thought Steve was handsome, he’s a good looking dude, everyone thinks Steve is handsome. And like sure there have been little moments where I wondered, what if, but I…I never really thought about liking him in that way but…then we were making dinner for the first time and he got that little smile and…and I fell for him. Deep and hard and- well not like that! But I just…I’m smitten Jude!” 

“I mean he has been a rock for you after everything,” Jude nodded totally following, “And he’s a good guy. He’s funny and awkward and charming and he…definitely cares for you. You two danced and-”

“But what if he’s changed his mind?” Y/N asked as she flopped down on the bed, “What if I go over there and he’s totally moved on and doesn’t feel the same way and now it’s like starting over from scratch or worse, what if he just wants to be friends and I have to bury it all down again?! Maybe he doesn’t feel that way and maybe he…I mean…I like him so much and I have since…jesus the seventh grade? On and off and…Jude what do I do?” 

“Oh Y/N,” Their voice consoling, for once no mockery. “You gotta go for it. You gotta. You have something special with him whether it’s romantic or not. And look at Robin and his friendship. They are still super close even after he confessed his feelings. He’ll always be there for you.” Relief did wash through Y/N in this moment only to be replaced by a new kind of trepidation. 

“Then what do I wear?” Jude cackled at their friend’s nervousness, finally indulging. 

“What are your options?” Jude said through laughter. 

The drive there was also easy with the radio on blast. Even the way up to Steve’s apartment was easy…it was knocking on the door that was hard. But she did it. And then she waited. 

Steve jumped and blew out the candle he lit. It’s not like that. Well maybe it’s like that. But remember what you’ve practiced. Follow her lead. See where she's at and make sure she feels the same still. He jumped to get the door, swinging the towel over his shoulder before opening the door. 

“Hey,” His jaw hung open slightly, seeing Y/N. Why the fuck did I blow out that candle? “You look beautiful.” Fuck that was way too forward. Can’t take it back now. He scratched the back of his head before backing up and letting her in. 

“Thank you,” She said, her voice so much shakier than she wanted it to be as she struggled to meet his gaze. She came in and kicked her shoes off as she always did out of respect. The lights had been dimmed significantly and there was already something cooking, as the room smelled of rich vivacious flavor. 

“Steve that smells incredible!” Y/N said as Steve shut the door, “What are you making?” 

“ I just made Penne Rosa,” He shrugged it off like it was the most casual thing in the world. Y/N just turned and looked at him, narrowing her eyes. 

“I leave for what…three months and suddenly you’ve gone world class chef on me?” She teased with a smirk, “Steve, there will be no point to me coming over if you can suddenly cook better than I can! Jeez.” 

“Hey now Y/N, just accept that I am officially allowed to be better than you at something,” He grabbed the spoon and offered her a taste. Y/N was far too excited for a taste as she followed him into the kitchen. Steve dipped the spoon into the sauce, got a bit, and without thinking much about it blew on the spoon to make sure it wouldn’t be too hot before passing it over to her. Y/N beamed as she took the spoon and popped it into her mouth letting out a hum in reply. 

“Oh my god that’s so good,” she praised. 

“You like it?” He beamed. “ I can relax now.”

“Like it? Steve that is the best sauce I have had maybe ever,” she said with a little sigh, “Oh that’s so good, wow.” He watched her enjoy it, before having to distract himself with his sauce. 

“The bread I got from a bakery because I didn’t have time to bake any. If you could cut some into slices that would be wonderful.”

“Of course,” she beamed, happy for a task to do as she pulled the bread knife from his drawer where she knew it would be, “So…have you been seeing anyone?” Steve dropped his spoon, splattering sauce on the ground.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” He exclaimed, immediately getting down to wipe his mess. “Uh, no. No I haven’t been. You?”

“No,” Y/N said as she passed him a paper towel, “I um…I haven’t been either.” 

“Oh,” Steve stood up and slung his towel over his shoulder, watching her back as she intently cut the bread. “Huh.” He went back to his sauce, stirring for a minute before finally giving in. 

“So,” Y/N turned to look at him again, facing him fully this time, trying to break the tension she had somewhat created though she was thankful for the relief that he was still single, “What else is new?” 

“Same old, same old”. He turned off the burden, allowing the sauce to still cook without the fire. “Nothing much to do other than work. Things just aren’t the same without you here.” Y/N’s cheeks went red and Steve smiled, confidence surging through him that spark was still there. 

“How’s my brother been?” Y/N asked as she watched him work for a moment, noting how at peace she felt here, with him.

“He’s the same as usual too,” Steve scoffed, “Cocky.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N teased, “You gave him your hair products and since then-”

“Woah, woah, don’t blame the hair,” Steve said as he pointed to his favorite feature, “The hair is not the problem!”

“I’m just saying,” Y/N chuckled, “The hair and you being around boosted his ego…but it’s nice. Except the cat thing when he’s flirting.” Steve cringed at the memory of Dustin doing the “rrrrr” sound he so often did.

“Yeah I was kinda waiting for him to grow out of that.” The pair both fell into laughter at the thought of Dustin - someone they both held dear - only being brought back by Y/N asking,  “Can I do anything else for you?” 

“Just enjoy yourself,” He smiled at her. “Actually, if you could get the wine out of the fridge…..I might have splurged because you’re back.”

“Steve,” Y/N said as she cooed his name on her way to the fridge, “Don’t splurge on my account! I’m just happy to get to spend time with you.” 

“Welp, I should have kept the receipt then.” He plated the pasta. “ Oh, speaking of splurging...you’re gonna hate this,” He smirked. 

“Steve Harrington,” Y/N put the hand not holding the bottle of wine on her hip as she looked at him with mock scolding, “What did you do?” 

“I got Pretty Woman, definitely not because it’s your favorite movie. I just happened to be available at Family Video and I had Keith hold it all day for me.” Y/N literally melted on the spot. She just looked at this man and she knew she was down bad. She had no words and could only smile at him, like he had hung the moon. “Y/N? Hello Y/N?”

“Well I mean,” She started, coming back to earth with a blush on her cheeks, “If you went through all that effort, I suppose we just have to watch it, now don’t we?” 

“I guess so,” He handed her a plate. “Listen it’s a special occasion so if you don’t like the pasta we can order take out. I will not judge or be offended.”

“Steve, I will love anything you make because you made it,” shit, she thought, that was a lot…but I can’t unsay it. So she just walked over and set the bottle of wine down on the table and got two glasses - the only two he had - out of the cabinet. He brought both plates out to his tiny dining room table, practically only enough for two. But she was the only other person other than Robin who ate here, so it didn’t really matter. As they sat to eat, he couldn’t help but feel at peace. He couldn’t help but feel like spending the rest of his life in Hawkins wouldn't be so bad. Maybe getting out every now and then with her wouldn't be that bad. As long as they had a van to drive around in. 

The pair finished dinner and Y/N was up, taking Steve’s plate to wash it before he could get a word of protest in. 

“You cooked, I’ll clean,” she had said before he could speak, “That’s how this works.” He smiled, sort of relieved that he could rest for a moment. He chose to watch her do the dishes, not in a creepy way. You’re being creepy. He looked away, going to set up the movie. 

“Is it okay if I start it? You might just miss the opening.”

“I am so sure I have this movie memorized by now so feel free,” Y/N called from the kitchen as she continued to clean, making sure everything was dried and put away before joining Steve on the couch. 

Soon enough the two were invested in the action, Julia Roberts walking down the street to Pretty Woman, one of Steve’s all time favorite songs. He felt the couch shift ever so slightly as Y/N pulled her feet up, getting even cozier on the couch and moving closer to him as a result. He wasn’t sure what to do next. Should I put an arm around her? 

“I love this song,” He said. Smooth.

“Me too,” she said with a nod. The next pan had the pair watching as Julia Roberts caught sight of the store she had been turned away from earlier in the film…the same attendant on shift.

“This is my favorite part,” Steve whispered. 

“You have a favorite part?” Y/N whispered back. 

“Of course I have a favorite part. This movie is iconic. How uncultured do you think I am?” He nudged.

“Well between dinner and your choice in film clearly I have given you less credit than you deserve,” she shot back with a smile. He turned to her, not expecting such a  genuine statement, and watched the warm glow of the TV flicker against her face. It was soothing in a way. He felt a warm rise up into his face and quickly turned away. Get a grip Steve. 

“Hi. Do you remember me?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“I was in here yesterday, you wouldn’t wait on me.”

Steve sat up straighter, hitting her thigh with excitement. 

“Oh my god, oh my god.” Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle at his excitement.

“Oh.”

“You work on commission right?”

“Ah yes.” 

“Big mistake. Big,” The pair said at the exact same time. “Huge.” They looked at each other, their smiles faded and replaced with something else. Something deeper. 

And with that, Steve shifted his position on the couch, grabbed Y/N’s face, and pressed a long awaited kiss on her lips, finally. He had been thinking about kissing her from the day she kissed him when they were in the seventh grade. A quick peck, a bet, not a real kiss. It wasn’t fair she had kissed him first and that it was so short, not even enough time to blink. He knew that someday when he got to kiss her again, he’d cherish every moment of it. 

Y/N’s eyes went wide for a second, in shock that this was occurring before leaning in, totally reciprocating. She couldn’t help herself, deepening the kiss to prove it was real by placing a hand ever so slightly in Steve’s hair, her fingers running to his roots. Holy shit. 

They moved closer and closer together, continuing to kiss, neither pulling away for air for fear that if they stopped for even a second the other would disappear back into real life once more. Y/N’s heart was beating out of her chest as both their hands wandered, trying to touch everything all at once but also so unsure on where to put their hands. At this point she was basically sitting just to the side of Steve’s lap but he wanted her, needed her closer. In one solid motion, he pulled her into his lap, his hands roaming her body. There was urgency to both of their movements, both allowing soft moans to fall at how nicely they fit together. As much as Steve wanted to treasure each and every second, kissing her like she was his life support, he couldn’t help his hands from coming to rest on her ass. He used the next leverage to pull them even closer into each other which drew a gasp from Y/N - finally making him pull away. 

“You alright?” He asked breathlessly. 

“God, yes,” Y/N moaned as she kissed him again, keeping her hands in his hair, “Fuck Steve, please don’t stop.” 

“Fuck,” Steve swore as her begging without him even having to ask, instinctively grinding his hips against her. The whimper she let out had him on the verge and they were both still fully clothed. Her legs coming to wrap around his waist so that she could feel even closer to him was the nail in the coffin. He needed her. Now. 

Steve broke away from the kiss only for a moment but Y/N didn’t cease, beginning to kiss up and down his neck until she found a spot that made him groan. She focused on it with a fervor as Steve brought his hands up to the top button of her dress since the whole thing was a button down. He kept his hands there as a “May I?” and when Y/N pulled back to nod at him, he didn’t hesitate. Steve went back to kissing her as he slowly unbuttoned her dress, bit by bit, wanting to not look until he was fully done. This proved to be a difficult task too but luckily Y/N helped him out, starting at the bottom as he made his way down. The second their hands met and the last button was undone, Steve couldn’t help but to break their kiss to look at her. His hands came to rest on her hips as he pulled away, sucking in a sharp breath. Steve had never been one to believe in God but to see the woman he had been chasing after for years undressed in his lap wearing lingerie- and Jesus Christ not just any lingerie. His favorite kind. 

It was a light blue and mesh material, almost completely see through other than being covered in beautifully detailed lace flowers. Again, Steve Harrington was pretty sure he didn’t believe in God but seeing Y/N looking better than any porno he had ever even dreamed up - he was ready to start praying. 

“Is…is it ok?” Y/N asked quietly as she looked at Steve, her hands moving to her lap as she fidgeted with them, unsure of what to do. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like it and I know I um…I don’t look like a lot of the girls you’ve been with but-” Steve kissed her so hard and fast, one of his hands moving from her hips to tangle in her hair in an effort to keep her from falling off his lap with the force he kissed her with. He needed her to know, to feel how much he wanted her. How much it had always been her. 

“You, Y/N Henderson,” he whispered after pulling away, “Are the most stunning person I have ever seen in my life.” Y/N’s eyes went wide as she took in his compliment. How was this the same Steve she had known all her life? The Steve who didn’t know how to give genuine compliments so didn’t? The Steve who Robin constantly complained acted like a twelve year old boy and couldn’t say anything other than boobies? 

“And holy fuck,” Steve swore as he brought his hands up to her waist, just underneath her breast as he ran his thumb ever so gently over the lace. 

“You can touch me, Steve,” Y/N said gently as she brought her hand up to rest over top of his, “Please…please touch me.” 

“Fuck,” Steve swore under his breath as he didn’t think twice moving his hand up to cup her breast in his hand, marveling at how she felt under his touch. Y/N ground her hips against his with a little whimper and he fucking lost it. He pushed the dress off her shoulders so she was truly in nothing but her underwear before pulling off his shirt, not wanting her to feel like she was the only one undressed. Y/N admired him as he did and felt her heart skip a beat. Steve had filled out. He had always been a decently broad guy but the second he had allowed himself to breathe and live his life instead of merely trying to survive from disaster to disaster he had grown softer instead of being lean muscle. The muscle was underneath but he had become a bit self conscious about the additional mass.

“Is that why girls don’t like me?” He had asked Robin as they passed a joint between them, “Because I’ve…”

“Nah,” Robin had replied with a shrug, “If anything that would help your case. Like the chest hair. Girls like you just fine, you just don’t like them.”

“That’s not true-”

“Yes it is,” Robin had cut him off, “Because none of them are Y/N Henderson.” 

He had laughed then but as he had her on his lap, looking at him like he had brought the sunlight back to her dark world, he knew Robin was right. No one had ever compared to her, no one ever could. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” the words flew from Steve’s mouth before he knew what he was saying, “You don’t even know.” He wanted to take the confession back, afraid she'd vanish despite the grip he had on her hips but she didn’t. Instead she turned her gaze back to his face and leaned in, going to press a kiss to his lips but she stopped just short.

“I know because I’ve wanted you just as much.” With that her lips connected with his again and it felt like the sky burst open. He pulled her closer than he thought possible, her hands coming to tangle in his hair as they kissed, rough and messy, teeth clashing as they both took what they had so desperately wanted. While Y/N was content with her hands tangled in Steve’s soft hair, Steve’s hands explored every inch of her exposed skin, one arm wrapping around her low back to keep the two of them rocking against each other with abandon. Y/N’s soft moans and the feel of her lips against his had Steve barreling towards the edge with shocking speed but he knew he didn’t want to finish still dressed on the couch. No, he wanted to be in her. 

“Y/N,” He pulled away, the pair both breathing heavily, “I want to-”

“Me too,” Y/N breathed heavily as she looked at him, hands moving to caress his face and press kisses to his neck, “Your room?” She didn’t have to ask him twice, Steve’s hands coming to hold her ass as he picked her up. Y/N swore Steve took only three strides before she found herself pressed underneath him in his bed, his lips already back on hers. Her nails raked up and down his back gently and Steve wasn’t content with that. No, he wanted to be able to feel her, see evidence of this tomorrow, otherwise he wouldn’t believe it was true. His one hand came back to grasp at her one breast, tweaking her nipple roughly making her cry out in pleasure while his other hand trailed down to her underwear. The sheer material allowed him to feel just how wet she was as he trailed a finger up and down her slit, a gasp leaving her as her eyes flashed open. 

“Shit,” He swore as he felt her, “So fucking wet. For me?”

“Yes,” Y/N said through gasps as she grasped him tightly, “For you Steve, all for you.” Steve would have smirked under normal circumstances but he felt so out of control all he could do was groan at her words and continue to feel her, rocking his hips against anything he could to try and relieve some tension from his body.

“Please don’t tease,” she begged him without the man even having to ask, “Please Steve, I just…want you now.”

“My fingers?” He asked between kisses and hickeys he pressed to her neck, taking the time to claim her as his. 

“No, I want-”

“The answers are my finger or my mouth, baby,” Steve said as he pulled back, continuing to stroke his fingers along her slit, daring to dip just the tip of one in over her underwear but denying her more until she asked for it. “Can’t have anything else until you’re warmed up-”

“I am, I am, please Steve,” She begged, seeming to be on the verge of tears from how badly she needed him, “Can I…no more pants Steve. Wanna see you, all of you.” Steve wasn’t going to deny her a thing as badly as he wanted to finger her until she came around him, he would do whatever she asked. He climbed off of her and rose, bringing his hand to his jeans but Y/N moved and put her hand over his. 

“Can I do it?” Steve’s mouth dropped open ever so slightly but he nodded as he closed it, moving his hands to her hips to give her full reign. She took his moment of submission to undo the button on his jeans, and then the zipper, before putting her hands through the loops and pulling them down. They fell to his ankles and he took a moment to step out of them, his hands on her hips pulling her into him as all that remained between the two was their underwear, allowing Y/N to feel Steve so much more than she had been able to before. 

“Fuck Steve,” She swore as she brought her hand down to stroke him through his underwear causing the man to groan, “You’re so…wow…” Steve didn’t waste a second, kicking her legs apart a bit with his feet so he could bring his hand down to cup her sex once more, pushing her underwear to the side as he pressed a finger into her. 

“Shit,” Y/N’s knees buckled a little bit at the intrusion and her grip on him stuttered. 

“Lay down for me,” he commanded as he withdrew his fingers only for a moment, bring it to his mouth with a groan as she compiled, “Fuck you taste good.”

“Can I taste you?” Y/N asked as she laid in bed, his bed, and looked up at him with an angelic gaze. 

“Not today, baby,” he cooed as he climbed on top of her, his fingers pushing her underwear aside again with ease as he slipped two fingers into her making her moan, “I’m already close and if you blew me, I wouldn’t be able to do what I really want.” 

“And you want…?” Y/N asked between little gasps as he found that spot inside her that had her nails scratching into his back. 

“Fuck,” Steve swore again as he burried his face into her neck as her hand moved inside his boxers, stroking him in earnest. “To be inside of you. Please.” Y/N moved her hand and brought both of her hands down to her underwear, pushing them off and kicking them to the ground as Steve stripped off his own. She couldn’t help but look at him, fully naked on top of her and looking like a Greek god. 

“You’re so handsome Steve Harrington.” The honesty of her compliment had Steve melting as he reached into his bedside table and grabbed a condom out of the unopened box. Y/N took it from his hands and ripped it open with ease, slipping it onto him as he kissed up and down her neck.

“And you’re so beautiful Y/N Henderson.” Y/N smiled and allowed her one hand to come back to his hair, that combined with the way he stroked himself made him groan. He lined himself up with her entrance and ran his tip over her folds for a moment before remembering her beg not to tease - not that he could even if he wanted to. He was so desperate he knew the second she gave him the ok he would slip into her without a second thought. 

“Can I-”

“Please.” Without another word, Steve began to press into her as gently as he could manage. The room turned into a mix of moans and swears as Steve fell to his elbows, bringing them impossibly close as Y/N’s nails dug into his back as she buried her face into his chest. The first few inches already had her so tight around him as he paused to revel in the feeling. Steve gently tangled his fingers into her hair to move her head from his chest, wanting to see her. Y/N must have caught on as she allowed her head to fall back on the pillow looking up at him in awe. 

“You okay?” Steve asked as the hand that was in her hair moved to cup her cheek. 

“Feels so good,” Y/N breathed out as she looked at him, her eyes watery from the feeling as she allowed her one hand to fall from Steve back and down onto the bed. “S’big.” Steve would have normally chuckled and made some comment about his ego being inflated too much but he couldn’t focus on anything except the way she felt around him and that he was less than halfway in. 

“Doing such a good job,” He praised, trying to keep his voice even as he brushed some of the curls that had fallen around her face away so he could fully see her. “Too much?” She shook her head adamantly which made Steve smile. Seeing Y/N Henderson, one of the most composed and well spoken people he knew, reduced to nonverbal because of him was becoming his new kryptonite. He used his hand not bracing himself above her to hoist her leg over his hip, bringing them closer even still. He then took a moment to lace his hand with hers as he pressed her hand into the bed. Y/N was so distracted by this she didn’t even notice Steve pulling out almost all the way before fully pushing in. A soft moan slipped from Y/N’s lips as her eyes squeezed closed but that didn’t work for Steve. She was holding back. He knew it. And he didn’t want her to. 

“Y/N, honey,” he spoke between kisses to her neck and lips and pretty much anywhere else he could reach, “Wanna hear you. Maybe some noise for me, hm?” 

“But,” Y/N said as she looked up at him, her lust blown eyes blinking gently, “It’s embarrassing-”

“It’s beautiful,” he praised as he gently rolled his hips into her, getting her used to the movement and feeling, “Everything about you is.” Y/N melted and as she felt his tip prod that spongy spot deep inside of her she let out a real moan, her inhibitions slipping away with the pleasure. 

“That’s it,” Steve cooed, “That’s it-oh fuck-” Steve swore as began to rock into her at a harder faster pace as he felt her clench around him. “So damn tight, fuck Y/N.”

“Steve please,” she whimpered as she pulled him closer. 

“Yeah? That feel good?” He said, increasing his pace and making sure to press as deep into her as he could with each thrust. Y/N felt like she couldn’t breath, feeling like she could feel him all the way in her stomach. Steve clocked his too, their hands no longer laced together as Y/N had decided she needed one to scratch his back up and another tangled in his hair, so he was able to trail one of his hands down to where he knew he was in her. He pressed down and watched as Y/N’s mouth formed a little o, her eyes rolling back as he felt her cunt start to flutter around him. 

“All the way in there, honey,” he cooed, through gritted teeth as he tried to hold off his own end until she had found hers. Keeping his hand there, he used his thumb to draw soft slow circles on her clit. That contrasted with the way he was fucking her so rough but with so much passion and praise had her teetering on the edge. 

“Steve-Steve I’m gonna-”

“Let it go honey,” he whispered before pressing a firm kiss to her lips. “Cum for me.” And she did, hard. Her cunt clenched impossibly tight around him, her eyes squeezing closed and mouth forming an o in a silent scream as her release coated his lower abdomen. 

“Holy shit-oh fuck,” Steve swore as he fell to his other elbow, not able to do anything more than let his release follow hers. He came with a high strangled groan - a sound Y/N was sure had come straight from the heavens had it not been so damn sinful. He slowed the pace of his thrusts as he rode out his orgasm but didn’t pull out as he all but collapsed on top of her before he realized oh shit I’m crushing her. He went to move but Y/N’s hands held his head to her chest. 

“Stay,” her plea was a strangled whisper as she tried to catch her breath. And he did, knowing he’d never question her and her wishes, never for a second. He laid on top of her, their breathing syncing as he could feel himself soften, still inside her. He felt his eyes begin to droop and knew he couldn’t go to sleep no matter how comfy he was. Not until he had checked on her. 

“Y/N?” He asked softly as he pushed up on his elbows to look at her. Her eyes fluttered open as they had been previously closed as she just took it all in while playing with his hair. 

“Mhm?” She smiled at him, glowing with sweat and adoration. All words left him as he rolled onto his side, still inside of her and moved her to face him. He just wanted to hold her, that was all he wanted. So he did. Steve wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in so her face was nestled into his neck as he just took in the weight of her in his arms, memorizing every detail of this moment. He knew then that while this was the first night she’d rest in his arms, it wouldn’t be the last. This, Y/N was his forever. 

Yay! I do love Steve very much and while I mainly have written for Eddie in the past, this idea kept coming back to me! Hope you all enjoyed and requests are open!

[quixoticall]

This Could Get Ugly Masterlist

18+ mdni

Part 1 of Look At Us Now

Now: Everybody knows famous 80s pop rock band, The Downsides, but no one knows the reason behind their mysterious breakup at the height of their success. Rumors of love triangles, infidelity, drug addiction and more than one onstage fight have swirled around for years following the band’s split in 1989. Years later, one determined journalist is uncovering it all through a series of interviews that will finally reveal the truth.

Then: It's 1983 and The Downsides need another lead singer and you just happen to need a band--it's a perfect match. The only issue? You have to pretend to be in a relationship with your bandmate, Steve Harrington, but you can't help but be drawn to the band's broody guitar player.

pairing: s.h. x fem!reader, e.m. x fem!reader, j.b. x n.w., r.b x n.w.

warnings: It's the Daisy Jones and the Six!AU, Enemies to friends to lovers, Love triangles, sex, drugs, rock and roll, etc., fake relationships, slow-burn, pining, ANGST, bad parents all around (this is going to be long and messy), smut in later chapters, slow burn, enemies to fwb to lovers, miscommunication trope

Each chapter will also have individual warnings per chapter.

Prologue

TRACKLIST🎸

Track 1: Before the Beginning

Track 2: The Beginning

Track 3: The Upside Down Tour

Track 4: The End of the Beginning

Track 5: The Beginning of the End

Track 6: Sophomore Album Blues (coming soon)

THE PLAYLIST 🎵

BREAKING NEWS! 📰

Saubrosa--October 9, 1983

The Upside Down Tour Poster—1984

Join the TAGLIST

[reidshearts]

new roomie?

pairing: steve harrington x fem!henderson reader

content: swearing, mentions of drugs, idiot steve

y/n henderson had always envies her younger brother. I mean come on, how had Dustin Henderson manage to gain five more friends than her. the only friend y/n had was the infamous willow roth, ex-cheerleader at hawkins high and your current roommate at college. they had been strangers before bumping into each other at a fresher's week party, coincidently studying the same subject; law.

you two became best friends and lived in the same flat until willow got suspended for multiple instances of being caught with weed on the campus along with other drugs, however with a record as clean as her's and straight grades she got lucky and no law enforcements were called.

"do your seriously have to leave!", you exclaimed, laying on your back on the bed with your head dangling off "- i mean it wasn't that bad...right will?"

your best friends mouth curled into a smile as she witnessed your antics, "it was going to happen eventually y/n, anyways robin was telling me about this hot new guy who joined, something about going to high school with him back in Hawkins". now this caught your attention as you roll off the bed with a thud onto your stomach.

"first of all ouch and secondly you say that as if im obsessed and fall in love with every guy i see!" you huff, sitting up against your bed, earning a look of disbelief from willow.

"alright fine! how hot on a scale of ten? also what subject is he taking? does he have a girlfriend because that is the biggest question i need to know-"

"-slow down y/n/n ! and to answer your questions, ten out of ten, i think some sports or doctor related thing, and i dont know ask robin when you next see her! anyways shouldn't you start cleaning the flat since your new roomie should be arriving in 20 minutes?!" replies willow with a hand on her hip.

"jeez okay mum!", reluctantly standing from your position on the floor to fling yourself into willows arms "but first a goodbye hug!!"

after 10 more minutes of goodbyes with lots of tears and laughing, you began the cleaning which didn't take too long seeing as all the rooms were tiny! while wiping the counters in the kitchen you heard the jingle of keys and the opening of the front door, so you threw the cloth in the sink and flattened out your skirt before making your way into the view of the door.

you slightly flinch as the door slammed against the wall behind it as her new roommate came into view lugging suitcases and a backpack inside, looking up at the stranger before you, you struggled to get the words out.

My gods he was pretty, mousy brunette hair with lighter brown highlights were illuminated from the sun streaming through the kitchen blinds. you didn't know whether it was from the heat or if he was naturally glowing that caused your eyes to widen as you shamelessly checked him out. clearing your throat you draw your eyes away and caught yourself from where they were to soon follow his torso down lower and smile back up at him.

"y/n", you exclaimed loudly before clearing your throat and beginning again , "Sorry hi I'm y/n henderson!"

Shaking his head at the abruptness as he takes his turn to admire you and he smiles widely before if falls with shock and confusion after processing what you had just said, "Henderson? shit"

He can not be falling for dustin's sister!

[satelliteddie]

face on a lover with a fire in his heart - s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve is used to spending the holidays alone, especially after he spent it heartbroken last year. so when you finally tell steve you love him, he doesn’t know how to respond.

content warnings: angst (kinda) to fluff, steve not knowing how to communicate, mentions of stancy, talks of christmas/santa, dysfunctional families, kissing

word count: 4.3k

author’s notes: ok I suck and didn’t have a chance to post this on christmas like planned, but!!! happy holidays and merry christmas to all that celebrate!!! the fact Last Christmas came out in 1984?????? this song is so Steve-coded….argue with the wall

Ending every year with month after month of family-centered holidays seems to be the cruelest joke in the world when you have no one to spend them with. It’s just another reminder of how often your days are spent alone; the empty walls and bedrooms laugh at the idea of a family spending time in them. Steve knows the feeling all too well. He’s become accustomed to spending this time of year alone; he used to make excuses for why he would end up by himself…but now? Now he’s just used to it. There was a holiday two years ago that he didn’t spend alone. Running his fingers over a lightly worn Christmas sweater, Steve thinks back to that night with the Wheelers and Byers. One of the last times he truly felt like he was a part of a family during this time of year. It’s been two full years since he wore that itchy, Reindeer-covered jumper, but some part of him still longed for the warmth that night had. Last year when Steve had spotted the sweater amongst his older clothes it tore him apart. Steve felt like he was being pulled apart stitch by stitch; which is why he wanted to pull the cloth apart seam by seam, yet he couldn’t bring himself to. The ugly sweater reminded him of the good nights he had with the Wheelers – the nights where he felt like he had a family. The nights where he felt loved. He loved Nancy… or at least he thought he knew what love was when he was with her. Love didn’t come easily to Steve after Nancy. He was cautious and careful. Granted he would go on dates that wouldn’t lead anywhere, but it was all to get himself back out there. Or just distract himself – he couldn’t be sure. Then almost a year after Nancy had torn him a part at a Halloween party, you put him back together. Steve grins as his mind shuts off his negative thoughts about his past and focuses on you. He hoped you two could spend your first Christmas as a couple together, but he understood when you told him about your prior plans. Steve would never want to take you from your family or make you feel guilty about his lack of one. Instead he stayed home as the snow fell outside, reminiscing over past Christmases. He unfolds the sweater to get a better look at it, he tilts his head looking at the pattern.

“What the hell is that?” Your voice startles Steve from his stare on the sweater. He’s almost convinced you're a fathom of his imagination until you step further into the room, your eyes scanning over the material, “That is hideous.”

“Hey! I liked this sweater,” Steve pretends to be insulted as he laughs. You squat down, sitting next to him and all of the half-empty Christmas decor boxes. Your eyes light up as you look over all of the garlands, ribbons, nutcrackers, candles, and other decorations. Steve folds the sweater, tucking it away in its box next to the other containers scattered in the room.

“Steve,” you brush the stray curls on the side of his face behind his ear. “I’m sure you wore the hell out of it, but it’s still hideous.” Steve shakes his head as he tries to hide his smile, turning to you with a blush covering his cheeks. His large hands rise from his thighs and brace the sides of your cheeks. Steve brings your face to his, resting your foreheads together with a content smile. Steve leans forward, pressing a featherlight kiss to your mouth. “Hi handsome,” you smirk as you continue to look at him. Steve shut his eyes, moving his thumbs over the high points of your cheeks while a grin still pulls at his mouth.

“Hi baby,” he finally blinks open his honey colored eyes. Steve hesitates before he pulls back, leaving his hands lingering on your face. He watches you as you smile up at him, inching forward to get as close as humanly possible. Steve moves his fingers down the sides of your face and over your arms before finding your hands; he doesn’t want to ask, worried this moment will end too soon, but he has to know if you’re leaving him alone again.

“I thought you were going to your parents for Christmas Eve?” His eyes dip down to where your hands are connected. Steve looks back up to you with wide eyes, “not that I don’t want you here, I- I do. God, I do. I just–”

“Steve–”

“Sorry that sounded shitty. Of course, I want you here. I just don't want your parents–”

“Steve,” you pull your hands from his and rest a gentle hand over his mouth. You can practically feel his smile against your palm. You drop your hand from his mouth and cup his jaw into it, “I was supposed to go to their house, but I wanted to be here with you. If that’s okay?”

Steve is sure his heart could burst out of his chest with the way you’re looking at him and how soft your voice sounds. “Yeah- yeah. Of course,” he stammers out.

“So what exactly are you doing with all this stuff?” You turn away from Steve and he’s already disappointed to have lost your undivided attention. You stand from the floor, rummaging through the storage bins, pulling out a decorative wreath. You hold the decor in your hands and turn to your boyfriend with a raised eyebrow, “it’s Christmas. Shouldn’t this all be up?”

Steve wasn’t sure how to respond where the answer wasn’t completely depressing. He has some decorations up around his large house, just enough to make it look somewhat festive. The tree was up and decorated just enough to look like a Christmas tree and not something Steve lugged in from outside. Yet there were endless boxes of ornaments, wreaths, ribbons, toys, and collectibles from the years where his parents were actually home to celebrate. Now that Steve was older and no longer believed in the magic of Christmas, his parents didn’t bat an eye when a conference was during Christmas or a business trip fell on Thanksgiving. With his childhood home now becoming a Bachelor pad, Steve didn’t feel the need to decorate for these holidays that passed by as if they were just any other day.

“Just didn’t have time to put it all up,” he shrugs as if there's no more meaning to it. You look back at Steve with cautious eyes, watching every feature. You know he’s lying, but there’s no point in calling him out on it now.

“Do you want it up?” You ask, gently running your fingers through the fake pine branches on the wreath. You try to make your tone as light as possible, not wanting to push him. “We could do it now, it might be fun.”

“You- you would do that?”

“Of course I would,” you place the decoration down, putting out a hand to Steve. He looks up at it from the floor before a lopsided grin ghosts his lips. Slipping his hand into yours, Steve stands up from the floor stumbling into you; your chests press together in a clumsy laugh. “But you have to help.”

“Babe-”

“No, nope. You help or I leave,” you tease, rocking back and forth on your heels. You look up at Steve with the biggest puppy eyes you can manage, pouting your lip for good measure. Steve melts under your soft glare, there’s no way to say no to you…it’s almost criminal.

“Fine,” he acts defeated, but he was always going to help you. Steve’s convinced if you asked him to follow you into hell he would without hesitation. He’s downright infatuated with you. Head over heels. Lovesick. Weak in the knees obsessed. He’s completely in love. He has loved you for longer than he would care to admit — but his mind couldn’t allow him to believe in it again. To believe in love means being vulnerable and open to the harm that comes from the person you give your heart to. He had already lived through that tragic tale of an unreciprocated love. It nearly killed him — even more so than the Upside Down. Telling you he was in love with you meant he would have to be on display again. He just couldn’t face it. Not yet.

“Where should we start?” Steve asks, resting his hands on the sides of your face.

“That’s easy,” you step away from him. Grabbing a box with Steve’s mothers handwriting scrawled across the cardboard. “Ornaments.”

❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅

The turntable spins, a Nat King Cole record playing on a low volume in the living room. Steve sits against the soft cushions of the couch watching as you fix the final ornaments on the tree. He loves watching how focused you get with even the smallest of tasks. Your tongue caught between your lips, the end curled up towards your nose. Steve remembers the first time he saw you do it while restocking records at the store across from Scoops. It reminded him of Eddie and immediately warmed his heart; Eddie had played wingman and therapist while Steve agonized over asking you out. Being that he was your best friend, Eddie put in the good word with you and nearly tripped over himself running back across the mall to tell Steve you were totally into him. There’s no guarantee that without Eddie’s meddling you two would have ever ended up together. You were too intimidated by King Steve, while Steve was worried you wouldn’t be impressed by the high school graduate who worked at an ice cream shop. And you weren’t impressed by his job….instead you were impressed by Steve. He wasn’t the same king that he used to be. He was warm and inviting yet, protective and timid…a complete sweetheart. It didn’t take long for you to fall for Steve, adoring every part of him. You were in love with him. There was no stopping it. You tried to keep it inside until Steve was ready to say those three words back to you, but you know it could be a long time coming. His dating history wasn’t the best and the most stable relationship in his life was also the most unstable. You could see it in his eyes and how he held you close that he loved you. You just wished you could hear it.

Eventually after months of dating, Steve had memorized any and all things y/n-related. He knew your favorite songs, least favorite movies, ideal date spots, the way your eyes lit up at the sight of a puppy, the smile you would give friends and the smile you would give him. Steve always held you close, gave you his jacket without hesitation, and warmed you inside and out even in the freezing December weather. A couple weeks ago, you laid against Steve’s chest against the sofa as the fireplace warmed both of you. The glow of the fireplace had you feeling like the inside of a toasted marshmallow; you wanted to melt into Steve and stay here forever. He made you feel safe, loved, and happy. So in the comfort of his arms, those three words slipped from your lips and into the air. The temperature seemed to drop in the millisecond of silence. Steve immediately tilted your chin towards his face near your shoulder, pressing his mouth to yours. The kiss was firm as his large hands cupped your cheeks, bringing you closer to him. You twisted in Steve’s arms, straddling his spread thighs and deepening the kiss. Steve’s soft mouth slid over yours, opening just enough to drag his tongue along your bottom lip. Eventually, Steve pulled away from you, his hands still on your face with a knowing look in his hazel eyes. He didn’t have to say it, you just knew. Steve did love you, you just had to wait until he was ready to say it.

Steve blinks harshly, realizing he’s been staring at you as you stare at the tree. Bringing up his hands to his face, Steve rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm before resting his chin in it. “You’re so pretty,” he gushes.

“Steve,” you say, shifting weight between your legs as you continue to focus on the tree. “Do you have a star?”

A smile pulls at his lips as he watches you, “did you hear me?”

“Yes, thank you,” you cast a quick look over your shoulder. “But do you have a star?”

“It’s upstairs,” Steve grins, beginning to stand. “I’ll go—”

“No, sit.” You insist, pushing him back down to his seat, “I’ll go find it. Just look at the tree and see where we can put these.” You drop the last two ornaments onto Steve’s lap, scurrying off to find the tree topper. He looks up at the 10 foot tree in the corner of the expansive living room. You’ve twirled garland around the staircase railings, added ribbons to doorways, twinkle lights (he didn’t even know he owned) to the windows, and small figurines to every ledge. Steve tried to help you decorate, but instead found himself watching you. The joy you felt during the holidays radiates off of you, warming the walls of his house. He looks down at the two ornaments you gave him; one that you gifted him during your first Christmas as friends. A small, fragile glass ornament shaped to look like a baseball bat. You told him you always thought the bat-spin was sexy after he opened it. Steve nearly fell over hearing the words from you. The second one was a small ornament frame holding a photo of The Party and all their older, teenage counterparts. Steve stands from the couch finally and places the two decorations side by side on tree branches. He steps back to look at his handiwork, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Even though he doesn’t hear you, he feels you behind him even before your one arm wraps around his waist. You press a kiss to his shoulder blades, resting your cheek against his back.

“Did you find it?” Steve asks, his eyes focused on your palm against his tummy. Your fingers brushing over the soft material of his shirt.

“Yep,” your other hand comes into view, the wire star held in your fingers. Steve chuckles looking down at the decoration in your small hands, he takes it from your grasp and spins around to face you. “Want to put it up?” You ask with a bashful smile.

“Nope,” Steve hands it back to you as you pout. In an instant, Steve bends down to sweep you off your feet and into his arms. “You’re going to.” He places you down on the cushions of the couch, squatting down slightly and patting his shoulders. “C’mon,” Steve slaps his shoulders again as you giggle. “Get on.”

“Steve, we’re going to knock the tree over if I fall.”

“So don’t fall,” Steve says with a sarcastic shrug. “I won’t drop you.” His words are so sure and confident that you don’t ask again, you just slip your legs over his collarbones, until you sit on his shoulders. Steve’s large hands brace your thighs against his body, your feet hooking behind them just to be safe. He stands to his full height, bringing you closer to the tree. You place the star on the top branch, settling it down and twisting it until it sits straight. You give a satisfied ruffle to Steve’s hair as he shuffles backwards to see the finished product.

“Good?” He asks, looking up at you through his eyebrows.

“Perfect,” you grin. Steve slowly squats down near the couch again, laying you against the plush cushions. He quickly spins in between your thighs to face you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your legs. He crawls up your chest to hover over you on the couch; Steve leans down and presses his mouth against yours. His hands tangle in your hair as yours trail over his chest, your lips dancing over each other. Steve’s tongue licks over your bottom lip gently before working into your mouth. You melt into him like you always do, pulling him closer by his shirt trying to keep him as close as you can. Steve released a satisfied hum, pulling away from your mouth and covering your neck with sloppy kisses. You move your hands from his chest into Steve’s curls keeping his face against your skin. He presses one more open mouth kiss to your jawline before settling his face into your neck.

“Thank you for letting me decorate,” you whisper, fingers still carding through his hair. Steve’s heart flips in his chest, she’s thanking me? His brain feels like it’s turned into a puddle under your touch and soft words.

“Baby,” he smiles against your skin. He leans up to look at you, holding your chin in between his fingers. “Thank you for decorating. You’re making me want to actually enjoy the holidays.” You nod slowly and give Steve one of those smiles that’s only reserved for him. Steve moves his hand from your chin and cups your cheek. You lean into his touch, eyelids drooping slightly. “Ready for bed?” Steve asks as your eyes grow more tired.

“It’s the only way Santa will come,” you grin as Steve laughs. You wrap your arms around Steve’s neck, preparing for him to lift you off the couch. It’s a movement that you both have practiced several times when you wrap yourself around Steve like a koala. He stands from the couch without missing a beat, sliding his hands under your butt to carry you up the stairs. You both plop into Steve’s bed, nestling into the soft comforter. Steve tosses his shirt aside for you to take, sleeping only in his plaid pajama pants. While you take the opposite approach, slipping into Steve’s discarded shirt and pushing your pants off and onto the floor. Steve lays against his pillows, arms spread out open for you to crawl into. You waste no time tucking yourself into his side, using Steve’s warm skin as your personal heater. Steve presses a kiss to the top of your hair as you toss a leg over his waist. Finally settled into each other, sleep starts to creep in while Steve admires you. He moves his fingers over your arms, drawing mindless shapes onto your skin.

“Thank you.” He wants to tell you he loves you, but all that comes out is: “thank you,” he repeats. You shuffle beside him, resting your chin on his ribs to look up at him in the darkness of the room. His eyes hold an anxious look in them that you know all too well. Steve’s heart slams against his chest and you can feel it against your fingers. He can’t even think straight as he looks at you, but his mouth continues to fail him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he says again with a heavy blink.

You give a half smile, pressing a kiss to his chest, “I know.”

❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅

“Steve.” You turn over, brushing your fingers over his biceps. The early morning light breaking through the windows.

“Steve,” you repeat, which earns a sleepy groan. He lifts the comforter higher to tuck it under his chin, nuzzling his body closer to yours. Steve’s back presses to your chest, mumbling scattered words but no real sentences.

“No,” he utters. Steve turns in your arms, cuddling into you. Steve’s strong arms work around your waist, pulling you even closer. His chestnut hair tickles your face as he moves and places himself under your face, curled into your chest. “Tired. Warm.”

You hum as you run a hand through his hair, keeping his face as close to your body as you can manage, “but Stevie.” You try once more, adding his nickname, that only he allows you to call him, and a sticky sweetness to your tone.

“What?” Steve pressed his forehead to your rib cage, eyes still closed. He clearly has no intention of moving hand time soon with how warm you feel against his skin and the soft touches of your fingers through his hair. You lean down, pressing a quick kiss to his head as you brush away stray curls.

“Santa came,” you whisper. Steve pulls back from your chest, blinking quickly to clear his eyes.

“What did you just say?” He asks, but his words are slurred from his exhaustion.

You slide down your pillow to be at eyeline with Steve, “Santa came. It’s officially Christmas.”

“Santa?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, finally making eye contact with you. “Baby, Santa’s not—”

“Shh,” you raise a finger to his lips, which he immediately presses a kiss to. “He came. There’s presents, I saw ‘em.”

“What?” Steve asks again, shifting up onto his elbows to look down at you. You grin, your hair fanned out over the soft pillows. “What are you talking about?”

“Just come with me,” you roll out from under the covers and wait at the edge of the bed for Steve. With a groan he tosses on a shirt from his dresser, stands and follows you out the bedroom door. Trailing close behind you, Steve’s steps falter on the stairs as he sees the Christmas tree. The lights twinkle amongst the evergreen branches, ornaments catching the light and spreading it further. Beneath the tree, the old tree skirt is no longer visible under the piles of gifts. It’s like Steve has been dropped into one of those cheesy Christmas movies; everything sparkles and shines, his house feels a lot more like a home at this moment. His eyes flick back to find you at the end of the stairs waiting for him. The glow of the Christmas lights ghosts over your face, causing you to look like a fucking goddess. He utters your name, just barely above a whisper as he stands on the stairs.

“You- how did you do this?” Steve’s at a loss for words as his focus continues to jump between you and the tree.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play coy, “I didn’t do a thing.”

“Baby—”

“It’s Christmas magic, Steve,” you pull him close by the edge of his tee, causing him to come down the final two stairs. “Just enjoy it.”

Steve leans into your touch, tilting his face down to rest his forehead on yours. You grin looking up at Steve with crossed eyes; he swears you’ve never looked cuter than you do right now. Taking in every feature and emotion in his face, waiting to see if your genius plan paid off to earn you a full smile from him. It works. Steve’s eyes soften completely as his pretty mouth curves up into a toothy grin. He pulls away just for a second, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his thumbs brush over your creeks. Steve watches as your smile doubles its size and the blush covering your face deepens. It only encourages him to cover more of your skin with kisses. He presses his lips to your temples, cheekbones, under your eyes, tip of your nose, jawline, Cupid’s bow, and anywhere else his mouth can reach. Your giggles are contagious as you squirm under Steve’s touch; trying both to get away from his assault of kisses, but also get closer to him. Steve stops once he knows he’s covered every centimeter of skin, rubbing his nose against yours. His mouth hovering over yours, “I love you.”

“You do?”

Steve’s heart nearly falls out of his chest hearing the nerves woven into your question. Of course he loved you.

“Yes, baby,” his nose brushes yours again. “I love you so fucking much. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it before I just-”

You lean up to press a soft kiss to his Cupid’s bow, stopping Steve mid sentence. “I know. It’s okay,” another kiss to his top lip. “I knew you did. You just had to say it in your own time.”

Steve tips his head back, shaking his head in disbelief. How are you real? Is this real? He looks back down at you with misty eyes, “fuck. You’re too good to me.”

“No,” you wrap your arms around his waist, snuggling into his chest. You peer up at him, resting your chin on his chest, “you’re too good to me. I just try to give you what you deserve.”

“But I don’t—”

“Don’t you dare say you don’t deserve this,” you immediately step back from him. Your voice is stern, but filled with adoration as you continue. “Steve, you deserve the fucking world, baby. The world. The universe. The universes beyond ours. If I could go up and pluck a star out of the sky and give it to you I would. These presents, the decorations, my love for you…it doesn’t even begin to scrape the surface of what you deserve. But I’ll die trying to give you everything you do.”

Steve wraps his hands around your wrists, tugging you back to him. His eyes have gone misty again, dropping your hands and wrapping his arms around your small frame. He rubs his hands up and down over your back, “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” you whisper into his chest. He pulls you away from his body to flash you a perfect smile. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅

i wanna spend christmas with stevie I’m pissed

happy holidays to all that celebrate them! even if you don’t have any one to be with this season, my inbox is always open, we can spend it together <<33

masterlist ❅ requests ❅

-meg

[buckysgrace]

Broken Hearts Club

Steve Harrington x reader miniseries

It's been about two years since Steve Harrington left your best friends heart shattered, broken into tiny little pieces. You know all too well that's what he's really good at, breaking hearts. You think that he must get some sick satisfaction from it.

Over the summer you see him again for the first time, or you think you do. Because the Steve that rings up your ice cream cone is nothing like the one you remember in high school. Even further from the little boy you grew up with.

It's just a little teasing at first, giggling over how he stumbles with girl after girl. It's as if he's clueless. Sort of how you feel when your friend gives you your next ultimatum in your friendship.

You owe her. That's what she tells you when she asks you to date him, just long enough to get his spirits high before you dump him in the same way he dumped her. It should be easy.

Right?

CW: Former best friends to lovers, Sort of enemies to lovers, Reader uses Steve but then regrets it, smut, mentions of cheating, betrayal, Steve falls first but reader falls harder, lots of angst

Chapters 1. My Kink is Karma 2. Too Well 3. Favorite Crime 4. Justified 5. You Broke Me First 6. Bed On Fire 7. Is It Over Now? 8. Last Kiss 9. These Four Walls 10. I miss you, I'm sorry

[damon-loves-pie]

Very First Date.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female reader.

Word count: About 5.1k words. 

Warnings: 18+, Reader has a bad date with another guy who kept making sexual advances towards her.(Nothing detailed though.), Steve talks slightly about a fight with his father, reader mentions not having a good relationship with hers either for a moment. (Nothing really descriptive here either.) Other than that, its mostly a FLUFFYYYY PIECE. 

I DID IGNORE THE LAYOUT OF STEVE’S ROOF FOR THE ENDING BECAUSE I WANTED THEM TO LOOK AT STARS. 

Summary:  Steve and the reader are best friends after having worked at Scoops together. Reader went out on a date with a guy which ended horribly and found herself at Steve’s to tell him about it and complain about how she hadn’t had a good date in months. Steve takes matters into his own hands since he’s into the reader and takes her out for a night wanting to remind her how she should be treated by a guy. 

Author’s note: THIS IS MY FIRST STEVE HARRINGTON IMAGINE I HAVE FULLY FINISHED! Usually I would stop halfway through, worried they weren’t going to fit the image I had created in my head. I am feeling a lot better tonight, after having been in the ER the other night. And I’m surprised to be sharing something around 8pm instead of 2 am. 

I did proofread but I’m sorry if I missed something, this was overall just a fluffy imagine I did because I saw a great Steve edit on Tiktok. 

PLEASE CLICK ON MY ACCOUNT AND CHECKOUT MY OTHER WORK, I mostly write for Eddie and can’t add my writing masterlist because I’ve been having issues with being shadow banned. 

But enjoy! 

------

Steve was having a horrible night.

His first Friday off in three weeks and he was at home moping alone.

First off you were out on a date with another guy. Not like it actually matters that it bothered him, because you two were just friends and that was it.

But on top of that, Robin canceled on him because Vickie asked her if she was free.

Which don't get him wrong, he was happy for his friend. But fuck did he not want to be alone tonight.

He thought about calling up Linda or Heidi, in the end deciding against it. He was tired of flings that weren't going anywhere.

Little did Steve know though, you were having as bad of night.

The date you were on had to be one of the worst you have ever been on.

You didn't even last past thirty minutes into it.

You told the boy you were heading to the ladies' room and snuck off quickly paying for a meal that wasn't even out yet before leaving.

Driving towards the Harrington home, you were ready to complain to your friends about how horrible another date went.

You felt defeated, like you were done with men.

Partially because the fact most of them were animals, and also just because they weren't the one you wanted anyway.

You wanted the boy who you were heading towards, the boy who felt like home to you when you needed someone to make you feel better.

You wanted Steve Harrington.

But you knew your friendship meant too much to you to even think about ruining it over some stupid feelings you had, so you kept them buried.

Opening the unlocked door you yell out into the home, trying to pinpoint where the two were.

"Steve? Robin?" You ask, closing the door behind you quietly hoping to not scare either of them.

From the kitchen Steve heard your voice, confused as he spread the mayo over the bread of the sandwich he was making.

"(Y/N)?" He questions, because he thought you would be on your date right now.

Steve felt his heart start beating faster as he realized you were here and not on your date, mind racing with different answers to why that might be.

Taking off your shoes and bag you respond to the boy by answering a loud,

"Yes," before leaving your items by the door.

Steve hears your muffled voice through the wall, smiling to himself. He was happy to know maybe he wouldn't be alone tonight. Even if it was just a friend, who he wish would be more.

But it still felt like a win because you were here instead of with some other guy.

"Kitchen." Steve tells you, hearing your steps coming through the hallway into the big kitchen.

You walk in to see him making a single sandwich, not sandwiches, just a sandwich.

"Is that what you're having for dinner?" You laugh confused on how that was going to fill him up. Hopping your body up, you take a seat on the counter behind him.

Steve shrugs, a light blush creeping on his face because he really wasn't expecting to see anyone tonight.

He was down and wanted something simple that didn't take much effort.

"I don't feel like making anything else." Steve says, finishing his meal.  

You giggle lightly as the boy turns around, sandwich small in his big hands. His face still a little red as he took a bite.

"You're going to be hungry again in like an hour." You tell him playfully, watching his eyes twinkle when they meet yours.

Chewing, he took in your outfit.

You were wearing a light pink plaid skirt with a low cut black top.

You looked beautiful to him, the sound of your giggling through the air making him nervous.

Steve shakes the feeling off before shrugging.

"Then I'll order take out." He tells you, chucking slightly before taking another bite.

You nod, understanding. Your eyes roamed around the room to see if you could find any remnants of Robin around.

Not seeing anything you turn your stare back towards him.

"Where's Robin?" You ask him, frowning slightly because you thought they were both off tonight.

You see Steve's body soften a little bit at your question.

"She canceled on me, Vickie asked to see her. Which good for her actually, one of us deserved to have a fun night." Steve answers, taking the last bite of his sandwich.

Steve's heart pound as he brought his eyes back up to yours.

"Are you supposed to be on a date?" He asks you, praying it was canceled and you hadn't gone.

Your body tensed while a sigh slipped your lips, yours legs automatically kicking back and forth slightly.

"That's why I'm here. I wanted to tell both of you how horrible it was, and when I say horrible Steve, I mean horrible." You tell him, shivering at the thought of earlier.

Steve's head popped up a little bit as he tried to not look excited about the fact your date hadn't gone well.

While he was happy for that, he was also wondering what could of made it so bad.

He questioned if maybe he would have to go kick the guy's ass.

"I thought you were out with that one guy from science club? Um, Jackson or whatever." Steve says, smirking internally because he knew the guy's name. But didn't want to seem like he was that important to him.

It's not like he hadn't been questioning the last few days, multiple different times, what that guy had that he didn't.

Meeting your eyes with Steve's, you tap your fingers nervously on the counter.

"Jacob, his name was Jacob." You tell him, watching him nod.

"And I had gone on the date, but god I didn't expect it to go so bad so fast." You finish, cringing as you see Steve's brow crinkle.

"What do you mean?" Steve asks you, arms crossing his chest.

Your body langue continues to be anxious, your feet still swinging as you tilt your head back before taking a deep breath.

"I mean literally not even fifteen minutes into the date he was trying to feel up my skirt. Not to mention all the sexual advances he kept making and nasty things he was saying. The whole situation just made me uncomfortable." You tell him honestly, seeing Steve grimace.

He didn't want you to go out with anyone else, but you didn't deserve that to happen.

"He always seemed so um." Steve speaks, snapping his fingers for the word.

"Innocent?" You finish, watching him nod in agreement.

"That's the word." He says, pointing out a finger.

"That's why I agreed to go out with him, I thought maybe this one wouldn't be a pervert so fast in. Not that I'm even against sleeping with someone on the first date, but fuck at least let us get through dinner." You groan, eyes rolling.

"Did you get through dinner?" He asks while you shake your head.

"No, I told him I had to go to the bathroom then went to the register to pay, leaving to come here. Didn't touch my food or anything since it wasn't out yet." You say truthfully, you didn't want to risk waiting a second longer there.

Steve rolls his eyes playfully.

"You should of left him to pay for it." Steve chuckles, lifting his gaze to yours a smile on his mouth.

"I should of, but I just wanted out of there." You shake your your head, laughing lightly.

"I just want one good date, I legit haven't been a good first date in months." You sigh, looking down at your feet.

Steve sits there for a second staring at you, idea sparking in his head.

You were dressed for a date still, and he was dressed since he was originally supposed to hang out with Robin.

"Are you hungry?" He asks, raising an eyebrow, leaning his head back slightly.  

"What?" You ask him, bringing your gaze to his.

"Are you hungry? Because you're right that sandwich didn't do anything." Steve shrugs, trying to be nonchalant.

You purse yours lips together for a moment.

"I could eat." You nod, watching him lean off the counter.

Steve smiles, nodding.

"Then lets go." He motions, holding his hand out to you.

Raising an eyebrow you take his hand, getting off the counter.

"Go where?" You ask, fixing your skirt.

You were confused on what Steve was doing, we're you two going to go out to eat? Get take out and come back here? What was on his mind, you wondered.

"Let's go show you that there are still good first dates in the world." Steve says seriously, grabbing his keys off the counter.

He decided even if he couldn't officially take you out without admitting his feelings,  he could still show you what it's like. Friends show friends a good time right?

You freeze in place, wondering if you were dreaming.

"First date?" You squeak as he laughs, turning back towards you.

"Yes, date. Come on, friends can take each other out." He smiles at you.

"Now let me show you that even though you will have some bad dates, there will be good ones waiting for you." He finishes, motioning to the front door.

Standing there you see him standing tall, muscles sticking out of his blue stripped shirt while he held the door open for you.

It wouldn't hurt to let him show you a good time you thought.

After all friends can have friend dates, right?

"I guess I'm still dressed for it." You agree, following him as he goes to lock the front door behind you two.

Steve felt himself stumbling slightly to find the key before leading you to the car.

After all he had to make it seem like this wasn't as big of deal to him as it really was.

"Just sit back and enjoy the night because you're right, I have only heard you talk about how bad your dates have been lately. And you deserve a good one." Steve tells you, opening the passenger door for you to get in.

A blush comes across your cheeks while you take a seat.

"Already starting huh?" You tease, smile on your lips.

"Like I said, I'm going to show you a good first date." He smiles, closing the door behind you.

Steve starts driving, eventually pulling into a gas station down the road.

He didn't really need gas for what he had planned, but he needed an excuse to stop to get you something he would get you if he was taking you on a real first date.

"I need to get some gas before we go anywhere." Steve says, hopping out of the car leaving you to wait nervously.

You sat there, hand tapping on your thigh, wondering where tonight was going to take you two.

You've liked him for the past couple of years since working together at Scoops, not that you didn't think he was cute before that.

Just you guys never really spoke before in high school other than some small talk here and there.

You wondered if maybe you should stop this, not wanting to confuse yourself too much by not being able to keep a straight head after this.

You didn't want to lose him over a silly crush.

But you couldn't help but wonder if you should let it play through, because it could possibly be the closest thing you'll get to a real date with Steve Harrington.

Turning your head back towards the opening gas station door, out comes a smiling Steve with an arm behind his back.  

Still smiling he opens the car door, leaning in.

Steve watched your face turn awestruck as he brought his arm around, a single red rose for you in his hands.

He tucks a piece of his hair behind his ear nervously after you take the flower from his hand.

You fingers lightly running over the petals delicately.

"Normally I would of got you flowers before hand, but this date caught me off guard." Steve chuckles, seeing you smile softly.

"Steve, you didn't have t-" You start, getting cut off by the boy protesting you to let the night just happen.

"(Y/N), like I said just sit back and relax and just enjoy the night. That way you'll remember to not settle for anyone's shit during another date you'll have." He tells you, getting out to pump the gas he bought.

Twirling the flower in your hand, you were a giddy mess.

Not even into the actual so called date yet, and it was already one of the best dates you've had.

No one had ever given you flowers on a date.

You've gotten some for a few holidays, after begging for them of course. But you had never experienced anyone willingly wanting to give you something so simple but so special.

Shaking off the butterflies in your stomach, you turn towards Steve after he gets back into the car.

"Thank you for this Steve." You tell him honestly, seeing his eyes glimmer as he starts the car.

Steve's heart exploded at how happy you were about the flower.

He would buy you all the flowers in the world if it meant to see you with that look on your face the rest of his life.

He couldn't wait for the rest of the night, knowing if you enjoyed this then you were going to have a great time tonight.

"Just wait till you see the rest of the date." Steve winks teasingly through the rearview mirror, pulling out of the gas station.

The drive was quiet besides the light humming from Steve as he listened to the music playing through the radio.

Both of you were as nervous as the other, unknowingly of course.

Steve drove out into a small town, smaller than Hawkins, about 20 minutes out.

He pulled into a little ma and pa pizzeria, the red glowing lights shining in the night as you took in the little brick building.

Steve was a gentleman as always, demanding to open the car door for you, which you gladly accepted.

You decided you were going to let yourself enjoy every minute of this, because deep down you hoped maybe he would enjoy it as much as you.

He lead you inside, both of you picking a small little booth in the corner as you waited for a waitress to arrive.

The place was small but cute.

All of the booths were hardwood with white and black checkered floor tiles underneath.

The walls were hardwood as well, red checkered table cloths giving the place a much needed pop of color.

There was even cute hanging lights above each table, giving them all a personal romantic glow.

Bringing your eyes to Steve, you smile.

"How often do you come here?" You ask him softly.

Taken aback a bit, Steve feels nervous wondering if you meant if he brough other dates here.

He wouldn't ever dare to bring anyone else here, besides Robin maybe. But other than that, no one was important enough to bring here other than you.

"By myself? Probably once a week, with anyone else? Never." Steve says honestly, watching your eyes widen a bit.

"Really? How did you find this place then?" You ask him, leaning your chin onto your hand.

Steve nods, taking a look at his hands before picking his arm to rest it on the table.

"It happened a few weeks after graduation actually." He tells you, not wanting to make eye contact.

"I uh had got in a really bad fight with my father about my future, or well lack there of according to him. And I took one of his many checkbooks, thinking about signing me a fat check and just leaving. I started to drive, not really caring about anything just being fueled by anger and ended up stopping here to breathe. Now the rest is history, and I've been coming here ever since." Steve explains, playing with his hands nervously.

He had never told anyone about that night.

Your heart aches for him, not having a good relationship with your parents either.

Not always seeing eye to eye on your future as well.  

"Tell me you at least used his checkbook to buy your dinner that night?" You ask him, placing your hand on his.  

Steve chuckles, bringing his eyes to yours.

"No, but I should have. It would of been the least he could do." Steve smiles, while you give him a light squeeze.

"Why didn't you ever tell me about that?" You say quietly,  intertwining your hand with his.

"I think because until recently, I actually thought he was right." He says honestly, both of your hearts beating fast from the electricity running between your fingers.

You could swear if you let go then lightning would hit the lamp above you.

"Steve your father wasn't right at all, and I'm happy you didn't leave because if you would have then we wouldn't be here, and I can't stand the thought that you might not have came into my life." You tell him truthfully.

If he would of left, you would of been working at Scoops with who knows instead of Steve.

That summer set the path to where you two were today.

"Really?" He asks as you nod.

"Really." You smile, seeing your waitress approaching from the side.

Reviewing the menu took forever for both of you, Steve said everything he had tried previously had been great. And on top of that it was kind of late with it being about 7:30 when you arrived, and both of you not having really ate much earlier didn't help when deciding what to order.

But you two settled on a plate of mozzarella sticks to start with and a medium house special to share with extra green peppers.

The conversation over dinner was alive, no small talk having to happen at all since you two knew each other so well. There were no awkward pauses or laughs, it was fun and energetic.

It was a great change of pace for both of you, since both of you had been on dates that were more than less boring lately.

You two were laughing loudly as you walked out of the restaurant.

The leftover pizza box hugged against your chest while Steve opened your door for you again.

"Steve thank you for sharing this place with me and what it means to you. It was truly one of the better dates I've been on." You tell him as he takes a seat.

Mentally high-fiving himself, he was happy to know you enjoyed what he had planned so far.

But was lowkey hurt you thought that this was all to his date with you.

He looks over, pouting jokingly with a hand over his heart.

"Why are you talking like it's over? We still have more to do till it's done." Steve says, glimmer in his eyes.

"What do you mean there's more?" You ask him, hint of curiosity in your voice, watching the car back out of the parking lot.  

"I mean, I don't only come here for the pizza. There's also an awesome ice cream parlor down the road that has the best malts. Which I know you love right?" He asks, already knowing the answer because you go to the ice cream shop in town every payday of yours.

"You're right, I do love a good butterscotch malt." You laugh, seeing a smile form on his face.

"Yeah so just let me do my thing and make sure you have a fun night okay? I hate to say it but you will probably be getting home late tonight because it's already almost nine." He nods, finger pointing over to the clock on the dash.

"You trying to get me to the spend the night Harrington?"  You joke teasingly, turning your body so your crossed legs were facing him.

He was right, your mom locked the door at ten because she had to be up by four am and didn't want to be awakened by the door slamming.

If you weren't home by then it was up to you to find a place to stay, especially since you got your key privileges taken away years ago because you kept losing them.

Your mom is convinced someone who finds the silver key will somehow know it belonged to your front door.  

"Hey, then it was a good first date." He says playfully, pulling into the gravel drive of what you guessed to be the ice cream shop.

"But yes, more than likely by the time we get home your mom will have the door locked. So you will probably have to crash at mine." Steve tells you truthfully, opening the door to get out of the car.

After looking over the menu you ended up ordering what you and Steve already knew you were going to, a butterscotch malt.

The girl at the window handed you two your malts before you sat down at one of the tables outside.

"So did you find this place the night you found the pizzeria?" You ask him, bringing the straw to your mouth.  

"Uh no actually, I found this a few months later. I came out here to eat one night but decided I still didn't feel like going home so I went exploring the town a little more." He tells you, watching your eyes roll back as you taste the ice cream.

"You've been holding out on me Harrington, you've been coming here for a little over a year and didn't think to tell me their malts are better than ours?" You laugh, pointing your straw at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He chuckles, hands and malt going to the air defensively.  

"So I am really the first girl you brought out here?" You ask teasingly, brow raised.

"You are." He nods, pulling his straw away from his lips.

"I didn't want to take you on any other date I would take anyone else. Especially since I do know you, and know what you like so it's a little easier for me to think of something you would enjoy." Steve says honestly, seeing you blush lightly.

"Steve that is honestly so sweet, and you really don't know how much that means to me." You tell him, watching him stand up.

"Which is why I have one more thing to share with you before the end of this date." He smiles, taking your hand into his to follow him.

"What is it?" You ask him, feeling your heart beat as you talk quietly towards his car.

The feeling of your fingers intertwined for the second time that night, making you want to pass out.

"I didn't tell you anything else we were doing, why do you think I'll tell you now?." Steve chuckles, lifting his face slightly as he bumps his shoulder with yours.

"You're right," you agree while he sets his malt on top of the car so he can open the door.

Both of your fingers lingering when it comes time to let go.

The car ride home felt heavy with tension while you two wondered if you were imagining the tension in the air.

Steve wanted so badly to rest his hand on your thigh, and have you place your hand on top of his to hold him while you two drove back home.

But he wasn't sure if he would be crossing a line.

So he just longed for the feeling of your skin pressed against his.

Driving through Hawkins you glanced over at Steve, confused when his house came into view.

"Just trust me." He tells you, parking the vehicle.

Steve walks past you when you're inside, placing the pizza box on the counter along with the empty malt cups before motioning for you to follow him up the stairs.

Walking up to the hallway of his bedroom, you felt yourself get shaky.

He wasn't trying to get you in bed right?

Not that you would hate to do that, you thought.

But just you thought he would put more effort into it if this was really his goal.

"Steve?" You ask him, slowing your movements behind him.

Steve turns halfway back to see you glancing between him and his bedroom.

"Oh, no no no. It's not like that (Y/N), just keep following me." He chuckles, shaking his head.

He stops at the hallway window, messing around with the screen before it pops off.

"Come on," Steve tells you, placing the screen against the wall before climbing through.

Peering out you felt your heart beat fast as you climbed out onto the flat park of the roof to see Steve leaning back on the tiled roof by the window. Taking a seat next to him you lay down, arms behind your head looking at the stars above.

You two were towards the back of the house, the trees and pool surrounding you.

The reflection of the moonlight bounced off the pool, it was all dark besides the dimmed lights under the water of the pool.

It was peaceful out here, breathing in the fresh air.

"I would come out here during high school to just think sometimes." Steve shares, glancing over.

"It's beautiful, I would of too." You nod, happy he shown you more about him today.

"Well you can come whenever you need, bad date? Come here. Bad day in general? Come here." He shrugs slightly, sighing to himself as he realized the date was soon coming to an end.

"I might take you up on it sometime." You tell him, sitting up to glance down at the pool.

"You know where the spare is, and that my door is always open to you." Steve chuckles, sitting up.

"Is this the last part of the date?" You ask him, bringing your gaze back up to meet his.

"Yeah." Steve nods.

"How about I add something and we go for a swim?" You suggest, tilting your head towards the pool, seeing him raise an eyebrow.

"Are you wanting to go for a swim?" He asks you.

"Yeah, why not? It's a nice night." You shrug, smirking slightly.

"You don't have a swimsuit." Steve reminds you.

"So what? Literally I feel like a bikini is the same thing as my bra and underwear, just different materials." You laugh, standing up to go inside down to the pool.

Pulling off your shirt, you glance down at him.

"You coming?" You ask, seeing him get flustered.

"Ye-yeah" Steve stutters, standing up.

You were right he thought, it wasn't much different besides the materials.

Both of you make it down to the pool, kicking off your shoes before you let your skirt and shirt fall onto the cement.

"Meet you in there Harrington?" You smile, running to jump into the pool.

The water surrounded you as you submerged beneath. Your fingers keeping the air trapped in your lungs while they plugged your nose.

A gasp escapes your lips when you come back to the surface.

Steve was standing there with his shoes and jeans off, nervous about getting it to the water.

"Come on take off your shirt Harrington and get in the water."  You call out teasingly.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." He laughs, reaching to pull the shirt off from behind his neck.

You start whistling and hollering as his torso becomes revealed, Steve's face turning red for the millionth time that night.

"You're been working out Steve." You tease, watching him jump into the water.

His tall frame disappearing into the water before coming back up.

"Is that way of you saying I look good?" Steve chuckles, shaking his hair like a dog, causing you to squeal from the water hitting you.

"Well duh, I have eyes. I'm not blind." You laugh watching him splash towards you.

Moving quickly, you scream at the cold water hitting your back.

"Hey, hey, hey. I said let's swim, not splash." You screech, trying to swim away.

"I think you're forgetting you're in the water with a guy who was on the swim team." He laughs, following while he splashes you more.

"Steve, stop." You laugh, turning back to splash him.  

The sounds of both of you laughing and the water moving echoes into the open air.

"Never." He jokes, going to grab your arm.

"Steve don't you dare dunk me." You scream, feeling him overpower you while he pulls you close.

The feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you distracted you as he pulls you down with him in the water before bringing both of you back to the surface.

"God I hate you Harrington." You laugh, wiping the chorine filled water off your eyes.

"No you don't." Steve smiles, arms still wrapped around you.

"Steve, don't please." You scream again, feeling him spin with you in temptation while your arms automatically wrapped around his neck in fear.

"Okay, I won't. But did you at least have fun tonight?" Steve smiles, arms still holding you as he moves in the water.

"I did. Actually, I think it was the best first date I've ever been on." You say honestly, looking up to his eyes. His wet hair framing his face as his grin widens.

"You really think so?" He asks, looking down at you.

"I do." You nod nervously, feeling your back hit the wall of the pool making you realize you were still really close together.

"I wish it could of been like an actual first date though." You laugh shyly,  one of your hands moving to rest on his chest while the other lingers on around his neck to play with his hair lightly between your fingers.

"Do you want to consider it an actual date?" Steve asks, chest moving harshly up and down under your finger tips.

"Would it be alright if I did?" You ask, biting your lip slightly.

"As long as you would let me take you out again," He smiles, his eyes twinkling while the water droplets rolled down his chest.

"On a date date right?" You ask, smirk forming.

"If I'm being honest, I was treating this as a date date." He tells you.  

"I've liked you for a while (Y/N), but I was nervous about asking you out so I thought this was the only way it would happen." Steve continues honestly, picking you up a little higher.

"I've liked you for a while too Harington, and actually thought the same thing about this date. When you offered I thought this may be my only chance to get taken out by you." You smile, wrapping your legs tighter around him.

"Well how about we make up for lost time starting tomorrow with breakfast?" He asks, bringing his face down closer to yours.

"That works for me." You tell him, grinning into the kiss as your lips connect with his.

----- 

Thank you for reading!  

[cahhly]

now that i’ve got formalities out of the way, hiiiiiiiiiiiIIII, i wanna be besties with everyone fr 🥹🩵

[ameliora-j]

oooomg imagine steve bringing up that his nipples r super sensitive so then during one of his punishments he has to cum hands free from j his tits

pulling, pinching, biting or slapping his nipples until they’re all swollen and red and then j chuckling at him “look baby ur tits r all swollen, u gonna cum from just me playing w u??”

𐐪𐑂 it’s twisted tuesday! send in ur requests ᵕ̈

content: humiliation, nipple play, dom!reader, sub!steve, hands free orgasm, degradation, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MDNI

you hum softly as you kiss from steve’s lips, down his neck. he whines softly, his hands tugging at your hair a bit as he arches his back. “please…” he whines.

“please what?” you hum, nipping at his neck before reaching up to pinch at his nipples.

“that!” he shrieks as his hips buck a bit. “oh shit that fuck!” he moans, arching his back.

“want me to play with your nipples?” you hum softly, already trailing kisses down in that direction.

“yes please” he moans, nodding as you wrap your lips around one of his nipples. you hum softly, your teeth teasing the bud as you suck lightly at it until it hardens before switching to the other one.

“i think i could make you cum just like this… don’t you, baby?” you mock, gazing up at him as you press soothing kisses to the bitten nipple.

“yeah!” he moans loudly as you bite down on his nipple again at the same time as you pinch the other one.

“good… cus you’re gonna” you growl, moving to pay the same attention to his other nipple. you hum, flicking the bitten and hard bud as you took the neglected one between your lips and began sucking.

after a while, you stop caring for his comfort—realizing the steve enjoys any kind of touch to his nipples. he whines and cries, letting you bite, suck, and torture his nipples to your pleasure as he grips the sheets tightly in his fists.

“oh fuck…” steve moans, his cock beginning to twitch in his boxers after just ten minutes. “fuck i’m gonna… oh god i’m cumming!” he moans loudly, ropes of cum spewing from his cock, making a complete mess of his boxers as you twist both his nipples roughly in your hands, laughing at him as he cums in his boxers.

“what a stupid and pathetic slut” you giggle softly, shaking your head as you kiss him.

[quixoticall]

This Could Get Ugly Track 5: The Beginning of the End

Summary: It's 1983 and The Downsides need another lead singer and you just happen to need a band--it's a perfect match. The only issue? You have to pretend to be in a relationship with your bandmate, Steve Harrington, but you can't help but be drawn to the band's broody guitar player.

pairing: s.h. x fem!reader, e.m. x fem!reader, j.b. x n.w.,

warnings: ANGST, drinking, drug use, smut, oral and fingering f receiving, p in v sex, the Harringtons make an appearance.

a/n: It has been a while my loves! If you've been following me at all, you know I've had a rough month. I really, truly appreciate every single one of you who has reached out and checked in! I appreciate you! This chapter is extra long to make up for lost time and it contains smut. It's my first time writing smut, so hopefully, I did not disappoint.

wc: 11.2K

MASTERLIST🎸

PLAY PREVIOUS TRACK 🎵

APRIL 28th, 1984 PHILADELPHIA , PA—THE UPSIDE DOWN TOUR

If you wanted to be technical about it, the whole thing started with Argyle.

The two of you were backstage, sitting outside the dressing rooms killing time during the opener—some local band that you weren’t previously familiar with.

You had always appreciated Argyle’s ability to be friendly with everyone and float above the tensions, that was the case especially now when things with the others seemed to have fallen apart a little.

You were sitting next to each other on the floor, backs against the wall, as you were running him through some of the songs that had made the preliminary list for the next album and asking for his input while he threw a bouncy ball against the opposite wall. You liked working with Argyle, he was out of the box, creative, and one of the most technically skilled band members. You had been sitting with him for only 30 minutes and he had already made one of your songs infinitely better.

“What’s the move tonight, dude?” he asks you, nonchalantly as you scribbled down some of his suggested changes.

You shrug in response, “I dunno, I might just go home and sleep after this, maybe work on the arrangements for this—” You wave your beat-up notebook in the air, and he scoffs.

“You like never come out with us anymore,” he exclaims, “I miss when we all used to party together, dude. Now you are all dropping like flies and it’s not as fun anymore!”

It was your turn to scoff at him, “Please, I was never the life of the party, Argyle, c’mon.”

“Are you kidding, dude? People would always show up in droves to see you. Plus, you’re like totally fun. Remember when you and Steve did karaoke in Austin and you both got on the bar? That was totally cool.”

You chuckle at the memory and concede, “Yeah, that was pretty fun, but you still have everyone else!”

“Well, you took my dude Eddie too,” he points out without malice.

“What do you mean?”

“He hasn’t come out since St. Louis—keeps saying he’s gonna stay in just in case you want to write with him.”

Of course, this is news to you. You hadn’t taken up Eddie’s offer to write together since he had spurned you in Missouri (and since he starred in a very vivid dream of yours). It wasn’t that you didn’t accept his apology (presented in the form of a ridiculously large flower bouquet) it was that thing would have been far too awkward at this point.

It wasn’t that you had a crush on him necessarily, you were pretty sure that mantle was still taken up by Steve to some extent, it was more that there was an undeniable sexual something between the two of you below the surface that your dreams had made obvious and you didn’t trust yourself to be alone in a room with him without wanting to rip his clothes off.

Obviously, giving in to your desires was a bad idea for a multitude of reasons but chiefly, because:

a. It would wreak havoc on the band.

b. You were certain Eddie wouldn’t reciprocate your advances.

But then… you had heard what Argyle had said.

“Wait, are you saying Eddie has been hanging out after shows just on the off chance that I may call him?” You confirm incredulously.

Argyle nods in response, “Yeah. Did you put a spell on him or something?”

“No,” you respond wryly, “I’m not that type of witch, I’m the bad kind of witch.”

“Well, you definitely did something to the dude, he’s been obsessing over whether or not you hate him and keeps trying to get me to ask.”

This takes you aback completely. Eddie caring so much what you thought of him that he’d be willing to ask Argyle, of all people to discreetly scope that out seems improbable so you continue to probe.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, he obviously thinks you’re pretty and he’s just been waiting around for you to call him up, and he cares a lot about what you think of him, which is weird because last time I checked he kinda hated you—no offense.”

“How do you know all this?” You ask, ignoring the offense.

“He told me, duh.”

“Have you told anyone else this?”

“No one else has asked,” Argyle says plaintively.

“Well, how about we keep all of this between the three of us, then?” You propose.

Before the drummer can confirm, the thundering applause signaling that the opening act had wrapped up cut the conversation off.

Neither of you has the chance to continue the discussion before being rushed onto stage by a harried and high-strung stage manager.

Without knowing, Argyle had invertedly changed the course of everything.

***

EDDIE: We were in Philly. It was a great show—probably one of the best of that tour. The audience was feeling us the opener was sick and we were just gelling for what felt like probably the first time. It was like we were all finally on the same wavelength if that makes sense. No more guessing what the next move was or fighting to keep up. It was like we were finally learning to trust each other.

***

The Philly show was electric, all the elements had come together perfectly. You and Steve were particularly reveling in it. You spent most of the night singing into the same microphone, lips inches from one another, your hand grasping the back of his neck, fingers carding through his hair, and eye contact unbreaking. At one point, you were certain by the way he had captured your bottom lip under the meat of his thumb, that he was going to lean in and kiss you on the mouth, a barrier that the two of you had managed to maintain this whole time.

The audience must have had a similar thought by the sounds of their cheers—a sound that seemed to have shaken both you and Steve from whatever spell you had been under because the next thing you know the pressure of his thumb was gone and his eyes were turned away from you and towards the crowd.

The rest of the show was spent similarly—the two of you toeing the line and the audience following your every move. It was easy to get addicted both to the applause and the intimacy.

After the encores were sung and the last bows were taken, though, Steve was back to barely being able to look at you.

The only time his gaze does flit to you, ever-briefly, is when you politely decline Argyle’s invitation to go out after the show.

“Come on dude, you said you would come if I looked at your song,” the drummer gives a half-hearted attempt at bargaining which only makes you giggle.

“I never said that Argyle,” and truly you hadn’t, “I said that I couldn’t go out because I had to make those changes you suggested.”

In response, Argyle begins to boo you, loudly and the others join in eagerly.

You roll your eyes playfully and bid goodbye to Argyle and the rest of the band when you part ways for the night and you notice that other than yourself, Eddie is the only one missing from the boisterous group but you try not to think too much on it.

Your efforts to push all thoughts of Eddie out of your mind seemed to have the opposite effect and it was like the thoughts themselves were digging their heels in and had found your mind to be a welcoming home.

You had made the song changes you had told Argyle you would and even tried to make some progress on your plethora of unfinished songs. As it turned out, you worked slower when you wrote alone.

You knew that as the remaining tour dates dwindled and the band’s return to LA drew closer, you eventually would have to approach Eddie again to write together. It was indisputable that whatever the two of you produced together was almost always better than what you accomplished alone.

How could you possibly approach him when you could barely look at him without dying of mortification? With Steve, at least, you could get some of the sexual energy out on stage, but with Eddie you didn’t have the same luxury and it stayed bottled up.

All of this, along with Argyle’s words from earlier in the evening made focusing nearly impossible and you gave up on writing all together, deciding to call it a night and head to bed. To your chagrin, the better part of the night was spent tossing and turning trying to evict the thoughts and ideas that had begun to formulate in your mind fueled by a lack of sleep, stress and desperation. And suddenly, you had an idea.

Admittedly, it was not a very good idea. It was actually probably a very bad idea. A ruinous idea even. And yet, you found yourself pulling the covers off yourself and stumbling into a pair of slippers, perplexed by your actions. You wondered, as you blearily shuffled down the identical hotel halls why you weren’t trying to talk yourself out of this idea—one that you were certain was going to change everything. Perhaps you were itching for a new thrill. Or maybe you were as selfish as everyone seemed to believe. Maybe it was the poison that had settled in your heart before you were old enough to know better, insisting that there was no other option for you. Or maybe you were giving yourself far too much credit and you were simply horny.

Whatever the reason, it brought you directly to Eddie Munson’s door.

***

EDDIE: I swear I thought I was dreaming when I saw her there, standing outside my door in this tiny pajama top and even tinier short. They had little cherries on them. I remember thinking they were so cute. Her hair was all a mess. I thought that was cute too.

After probably 5 minutes of us standing there in the doorway, I finally got my brain to work enough to invite her in. She seemed nervous at first. Sort of paced around the room, not saying anything for a while and then—I swear to God—she asks, “Do you want to sleep with me?” out of fucking nowhere. If I hadn’t been there myself, I would’ve never believed it. Hell, even telling you now, part of me thinks I made it up.

My brain short-circuited because I couldn’t even respond. I just stared at her with my jaw on the fucking floor, trying to remember what the signs of a stroke were.

***

“Are you serious?” Eddie spits out, voice hoarse with shock at your overly-direct question.

You nod, wordlessly, trying to ignore the panic that has begun to set in.

“Why?” he presses.

You shrug, which he doesn’t find sufficient because he nods along, trying to draw the reasons from you.

“We both like sex,” you explain, clumsily, “and I find you attractive and I think you find me attractive, too—” he nods feverishly at this—“so why not have some fun?”

You try to say this last part enticingly but aren’t sure you pulled it off until you see a flush play itself across his pretty features.

“Why me? Why not Harrington?”

Even though you had anticipated the question, you can’t help but steel yourself as you respond, “Because we like each other enough for it to be fun but not enough for either of us to get attached.”

You watched, with bated breath as the thoughts played out over Eddie’s features and when you see a flash of what could be hurt you entertain for the briefest moment, the idea that maybe someone could get hurt but the thought is pushed away as a lazy grin begins to spread over his face and a newfound cockiness color his features.

Suddenly, he is much closer, and the space between your two bodies draws thin.

“Now?” he asks.

“Yes, now,” you squeak out as he encroaches in on you, fingertips grazing the bare skin on your hips.

You take a step towards him, moving to stand flush against his hip, invitingly and weave a hand through his unruly bed head curls. You want him to know how much you want this—how much you’ve wanted this. It was inevitable really, there had always been a tension between the two of you. Whether it was the hot friction of dislike , the bold spark of creative partnership or the hot embers of sexual tension, the two of you burned for one another just the same.

He leans in for a kiss when your impatience gets the best of you and you rush to meet him halfway.

He tastes like cigarettes and cherries, a taste you revel in as his lips move languidly over yours. Suddenly, he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and lightly tugs, and a moan tumbles out of you.

“We can’t tell anyone,” you mutter into the kiss and it goes unacknowledged.

The cold of his rings meets your nipples through the thin fabric of your strappy pajama top and your body arches in response.

The kiss is broken you are left gasping for air. Eddie wastes no time in attaching his lips to your neck, his tongue tracing over your collarbone hotly.

The straps of your top are shucked of your shoulders and the fabric bunched down towards your middle and a trail of kisses following in its wake.

Your knees hit the edge of the bed, and the hands in your waist guide you down in a fluid motion.

Your eyes flutter as wet kisses are peppered over your breasts.

“Come on princess, let me hear those pretty noises,” Eddie murmurs into your skin, his hot breath covering you in goosebumps.

A heady moan escapes you, almost on command. It would’ve embarrassed you if you still had the decency to care.

A trail of kisses and suddenly Eddie is thumbing at the waistband of your shorts. You nod fervently when his eyes suddenly trail up to find you, but that’s not enough for him.

“Come on, baby,” he teases, “tell me what you want.”

You throw your head back in frustration and want and Eddie takes this lapse in response to run his hand sloppily over your clothed core.

“So wet,” he murmured, “so pretty.”

You let out a desperate laugh at this and his eyes are back on you, expectantly and any resistant you have dissipates.

“Touch me, please,” you sigh, half plea, half demand.

It’s not a hard sell because your shorts and underwear are gone in a flash and cold rings are pulling your thighs wide open.

You reach out towards Eddie’s curls for purchase, gently tugging him closer to your core, hoping he’d get the message.

A moment of clarity cuts through your haze and suddenly you’re pulling him up by his hair, forcing eye contact.

“No one can know,” you insists.

He’s all half-lidded eyes and dazed smile when he’s looking at you.

Leaning in to grab his jaw in your palm, you pull him close. This is important.

“Eddie, no one can know. Promise me,” you repeat again.

He nods in agreement, even though his expression leads you to believe you could’ve asked anything in that moment and he would’ve readily acquiesced.

“No one can know,” he affirms before hitching your body closer with a harsh tug on your thighs and disappearing in between your legs, mouth latching hotly to where you need him the most.

***

EDDIE: We started sleeping together that night. A no strings attached type thing. We had to keep it a secret. She didn’t want to hurt Harrington’s feelings which I understood. He was a good guy and anyone could tell he was head over heels for her.

And she was just… well, I guess she was just afraid. We were kind of the same in that way. Couldn’t hold onto anything without crushing it into dust.

***

MAY 1st, 1984–STATEN ISLAND, NY—THE UPSIDE DOWN TOUR

Eddie’s hands are curled around your thighs, keeping your body balanced on the flimsy tour bus bathroom sink. His silver rings dig into the soft flesh of your thigh in a way that you are certain will leave bruises in their wake.

You have to be quiet, you know that. Even if the rest of the band had taken a quick pit stop between Philly and New York to explore the Staten Island Zoo and the likelihood of them coming back this early was low, it wasn’t non-existent . This left you stifling your own moans into the back of your hand as Eddie rocked into you languidly and delicious.

Your hand moved to steady itself behind you as he lets go of your left thigh and places the pad of his thumb on the soft flesh of your clit, causing you to forget nearly everything.

He seems to anticipate your next move though, because his mouth is quickly on yours, tongue gliding over your bottom lip and effectively keeping you quiet.

The angle of his hips meeting your core and his nimble fingers worked together to bring you closer to your release.

“I can feel it, baby, you’re close aren’t you?”

You nod feverishly, eyes screwed shut, “Yes, so good Eds. I’m gonna cum,” you manage to squeak out.

“C’mon pretty girl, look at me,” Eddie instructs firmly, but you can tell by the strain in his voice that he’s not too far behind, “wanna see you when you cum.”

You force your eyes open and he rewards you by pressing his unoccupied thumb into your bottom lip which you greedily take into your mouth.

Your release washes over you in a wave and you watch moments later as Eddie finds his own.

The two of you are left panting for a few moments as you try to steady yourselves. Once you find your bearings, you lower yourself from the sink and adjust the sundress that was so carelessly shucked to your hips and Eddie busies himself with disposing of the condom discreetly.

Turning to the bathroom mirror, you make an attempt at taming your haphazard hair and fixing your smudged lipstick before making a move for the door.

“Well, that was nice,” you offer before spilling into the tour bus’s common space.

“Wait,” Eddie cries out as he’s still adjusting his belt, “where are you going?”

You shrug nonchalantly in response but don’t turn around, “Back to the girls’ bus.”

“You don’t want to… you don’t want to stick around maybe? We could do some writing?” Eddie sounds out of breath when he asks but you chalk it up to the sex.

“Better not. It might look suspicious,” you explain as you take the stops down from the bus, two at a time.

“Right, wouldn’t want that,” Eddie squeaks out and you smile back at him, grateful for his understanding.

“See you later, Eds.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything back, but when you look back after having boarded your own bus, he’s still standing on the bottom step, eyes still on you.

***

EDDIE: Let’s get the record straight about something though, I didn’t steal her away from anyone. She is her own person first of all, not some thing to be stolen. And second of all, she came to me first. Not the other way around. And! She and Harrington weren’t even really seeing each other. So, other than the lying, it truthfully wasn’t that bad.

But then again, does the truth even matter? Especially now? After everything?

INTERVIEWER: It does to me and to you too, I think, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.

EDDIE: Has anyone ever told you you’re too smart for your own good?

***

MAY 3rd, 1984–NEW YORK CITY, NY—THE UPSIDE DOWN TOUR

It was easy, really, to keep your fling with Eddie a secret from the rest of the band. Most of them were barely paying attention to what you were doing anyway.

Nancy and Jonathan were once again preoccupied with waiting by the phone to hear from Jonathan’s mother, Joyce. Will’s condition had once again worsen and the two were on high alert.

Robin and Steve were busy sightseeing and pointedly only talking to you when necessary. They weren’t hostile, per se, (or at least, Steve wasn’t) but they also made a point to not invite you to their outing. You want to tell them to be wary of the paps since the city is crawling with them in a matter akin to cockroaches but you know better than to try to tell Robin what to do.

Argyle, for his part, is in his own world.

The two of you were essentially in the clear barring rehearsals, shows and any stray public appearance. Still, you couldn’t help but want to take precautions.

***

EDDIE: She would never sleep over. You know, after. She was too worried about what would happen if Steve or anyone else went looking for her.

It shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did, she—we had made it very clear that this was a purely physical thing but, well, between you and me kid, I always knew it was never gonna be like that. At least not for me. I was in deep for way longer than I had realized.

***

Long, skilled fingers trace patterns along your naked spine. The movements are comforting, calming, you almost find yourself lulled to sleep. Except you know you shouldn’t—that you can’t.

Your eyes flutter open as you fight against the sleep that sets in. This isn’t your bed, you remind yourself, and you feel that in the brush of the sheets against your naked body that definitively do not feel like the sheets of your bed merely a few doors down. It’s a silly thought, truly, these sheets are probably the exact same as the ones on your bed and more so, you haven’t slept in your bed, a bed that is truly, strictly your own in years . Still, this does not feel quite right.

You will your body to stir, working actively against every nerve that is telling you not to move from the warm, comfortable haven you had found and the warm body next to you but you know better. This is a dance you’re familiar with: they ask you to stay but don’t really mean it and if they do it’s only to squeeze another quick fuck in.

“Why don’t you stay?” Eddie grumbles into your shoulder even though both of you already know the answer.

“What if someone comes looking for me, huh?” A question for a question, “it’ll be hard to explain to Hopper why I’m naked in your bed.”

“Bullshit. You’re one of the only ones Hopper doesn’t have to keep tabs on,” Eddie’s only partially playful in saying this.

“I miss my bed,” you rebut, plainly and the guitarist pouts in response.

“This is like the same bed, dude.”

“ ‘Dude’? You’ve been hanging out with Argyle way too much.”

“Whatever,” Eddie dismisses as his hand travels down along your spine to circle around the rise of your hip to the front of your body to pull you closer against his chest and you squeal.

His skilled fingers travel down to the apex of your legs and two of them swipe through your still-wet heat making you jolt. You’re still sensitive from earlier in the night and Eddie is using that to his advantage as he swipes over your clit.

You moan at the contact and your hips canter forward embarrassingly quickly.

“Don’t want to leave now, do you?” Eddie teases as he moves away from your clit to tease your entrance and you mewl in response. Before you know it a pair of lips are attached to your neck and two fingers are slowly, deliciously rocking in and out of your core. A hand moves up to grip Eddie by the hair as you moan.

“Just like that, please keep going.”

You feel Eddie’s length begin to harden against your back as his pace quickens and his thumb circles your clit bringing you closer to your third orgasm of the night.

“No fair,” you pant, as you feel a tightening in your lower stomach. “You can’t keep me around by giving me orgasms.”

He laughs at this, full-blown guffaws. “There’s no rule against it,” he says as his tongue slides over the shell of your ear. His fingers curl inside you and you gasp at the sudden pressure before succumbing to the feeling. Your release washes over you, unexpectedly and you cry out.

A few seconds reprieve give you a moment to come back to earth. You sigh contently feeling Eddie’s harden length against the swell of you ass.

It would be impolite to leave him hanging.

***

EDDIE: Not that I could complain about our arrangement.

***

You had fallen asleep. Accidentally, of course, but erroneously still. You realize this far too late as the harsh red numbers of the hotel room alarm clock blare at you angrily: 11:52 AM.

You scramble out of bed, covers flung in the process and you make a grab for your clothes that litter the floor. The sudden, frantic movement had inadvertently awoken the man sleeping next to you and you could hear the sleep in his voice as he tried to grasp the situation.

“Woah, woah where’s the fire, princess?”

“It’s nearly noon!” you respond, panic clear in your voice. “I accidentally fell asleep and now it’s almost noon!”

Your mind is overcome with worst case scenarios and conclusions that are easily jumped to as you imagine how this late morning can turn into your downfall.

Eddie tries valiantly to calm you down to no avail. You had done the one thing you said you never would: you stayed the night and now you didn’t know what to do with that other than panic and rush out the door half dressed and fully angered with yourself throwing a paltry goodbye to a very disoriented Eddie over your shoulder as you did so.

You try to fix your hair in the elevator along with your harried breath. Most of the band wake up late into the day, you try to remind yourself, especially after a night out.

It was not unusual to be walking the halls of your hotel room at this time, but you still felt overwhelmingly nervous walking back to your room in a way that you felt obviously gave away that you were coming back from a night of raunchy sex.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as the elevator doors slid open to reveal Steve Harrington waiting outside your door. This is what you were afraid of. Certainly one look at you and he’d know exactly what you were doing and probably with who and that would spell the end of the Downsides, you were sure of it.

You didn’t say anything as you exited the elevator and slowly made your way over, hoping to prolong the moment before everything came crumbling down as much as you could.

A few steps in and you had caught Steve’s attention. When he looked at you though, it wasn’t with anger or disappointment but with nerves.

***

STEVE: My parents moved around a lot after I left home. Indianapolis, Chicago, Phoenix in the winter and Bridgeport in the summer, you know, regular rich folks shit.

It’s not like I could ever go back home but when they heard the band was planning on making the stop they wanted me to visit them and they wanted me to bring my girlfriend to meet them.  I hadn’t wanted to ask then, things were kind of awkward between the two of us, but they kept insisting. It’s like they didn’t believe I could’ve bagged a girl like her and they were willing to call me on it. So, I had no other choice but to ask.

***

You understood where Steve was coming from, truly, your own parents were rich and demanding. Plus, something about seeing your fake boyfriend waiting at your door after a night sleeping with someone else really made you susceptible to his request.

And really, there wasn’t a universe where you would say no to a request from  Steve Harrington, so of course you were going to meet his parents.

***

MAY 6th, 1984–NEW YORK CITY, NY—30 ROCKEFELLER PLAZA

“So I heard you’re meeting the in-laws,” Eddie plops down in the makeup seat next to you

You’re backstage at The Nightly Show with Chris Palmer, getting ready for one of the few media appearances Hopper had managed to schedule during the band’s short stint in the city.

You can tell by the pinching between Eddie’s eyes and the snarl in his tone that he’s not in a good mood. You chock up his demeanor to the same thing that has dampened yours: the upcoming interview.

The lack of media appearances had been a welcomed change during the band’s time on the road and the adjustment back to them have been rocky. You, for one, are on edge at the idea of having to sit down with the smarmy, sexist, Chris Palmer who, on his late night show, had already taken a few swings at you for laughs and the thought of him having the chance to do so to your face, made you sick.

Which was why you barely responded to Eddie’s attempt t goading you and instead, shrug in response, tightly, “I guess.”

His eyes flit over you and his demeanor shift to one approximating concern. “Hey, you doing okay?” He moves closer, but not enough for it to be noticeable to anyone but you.

“Yeah,” you try to smile but it comes out a grimace, “just out of practice I guess.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I have an extra copy of Baldwin that I brought on accident if you want a distraction,” the book flashes in your periphery and this time your smile comes out genuine and unprompted.

While you can’t be one hundred percent certain, you’re familiar enough with the guitarist’s ways to know that this was no accident—he brought the book with you in mind.

You make a grab for it but have to keep yourself from leaning in for a hug at the risk of the others’ scrutiny and your makeup artist’s ire. Not knowing how else to communicate your appreciation, you give his shirt a quick—and hopefully discreet—tug.  He seems to catch your drift because his fingers graze yours purposefully as you move your hand away.

The brief touch shoots electricity through you.

“Thanks,” you murmur before watching him jaunt away to his spot between Argyle and Jonathan, both of your moods seemingly lifted, if only for a moment.

You’re grateful for the distraction although it barely keeps your attention and instead end up thumbing through the pages anxiously to the chagrin of your makeup artist who is clearly relieved to pass you onto hair once the final touches of lipstick are applied.

You thank her profusely before moving next door where, to the surprise of exactly no one, you’re sat next to Steve. Or at least you think it’s Steve you’re sat next to given how little you can see through the thick mass of hairspray clouding the air.

“They don’t call me ‘The Hair’ for nothing, right?” He says when you catch his eye through the fumes.

His hair stylists laughs a little too hard for your taste and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“I thought you hated that nickname,” you say, settling into your chair, ready to play your part as the doting girlfriend.

He shrugs nonchalantly, “there are worst things to be called.”

You scoff in response, your previous concerns regarding tonight’s host bubbling up again, “I am sure there are.”

Steve turns to you fully now, offering a charming apology to his stylist that leaves her a giggling puddle, and you can feel his eyes scanning you in assessment.

He suddenly reaches over to the vanity in front of him, “The vending machine in the hall is totally broke, it gave me four candy bars. Do you want one?”

You look over at the bars in his hand which he has fanned evenly and is waving as if they’re a wad of cash and you grab one out of his reach.

“These are my favorite,” you point out as you smooth a hand over the wrapper, remembering all the times you would raid the vending machines at venues or backstage before an interview for them.

“I know,” he says, impishly.

“Harrington, be straight with me, is the machine really broken or did you get me my favorite candy bar just to butter me up?”

He nods,  self-satisfied, like a little kid happy to be caught doing something that they’ll know they’ll get away with. Your joint hairstylists coo in adoration at your dotting “boyfriend” and you can’t help but roll your eyes affectionately.

“You seem a bit nervous,” he explains, “and candy usually helps.”

You exhale a laugh at this and admit that he’s right, “candy usually does help,” before nibbling on the bar carefully  for the sake of your lipstick.

“So, what’s up?” He asks after a beat, while the hairstylists are preoccupied cleaning their tools, “are you nervous about doing our thing again?”

He says the last part with an overly-dramatic eyebrow waggle and you giggle.

What do you mean?” You ask, avoiding his glance.

He almost rolls his eyes at this but catches himself, knowing better.

“You just seem off, like nervous almost? But not in the usual way you are nervous about interview, but like different. Normally you’re just nervous because you overthink it but now it’s like you’re dreading it.”

You snort at the way he saw right through you.

“It’s stupid but, Chris Palmer has made jokes about me in the past, you know, about my dating history and things like that and I’m not really looking forward to hearing what he has to say tonight,” you explain, bashfully.

“What do you mean? Do you and Chris know each other?”

“No,” you respond, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, “he just is, you know, one of those comedians who pokes fun at celebrities and he loves making fun of women who ‘get around’ or whatever and well, that was my reputation before you… and the band.”

You see realization dawn on Steve’s features, it’s almost like he doesn’t believe anyone could ever be mean to you.  Realization quickly turns to anger.

“And you think he’ll make fun of you tonight in the same way? In front of everyone?”

You shrug at this, “maybe, he’s not exactly known for taking it easy on his guests, but I’m used to it, it’s annoying though.”

Steve shakes his head aggressively at your dismissal and bolts up from his char, “No, I’m going to go talk to Hopper or something, have him tell Palmer’s people he needs to cool it or we won’t perform.”

He’s marching down the hall now, purposeful and quick. You make a beeline after him running ahead to cut him off.

“Woah, hey, Steve, you do not need to do that.” The last thing you want is the band being labeled as difficult to work with this early on.

Standing in front of him with your hands flat on his chest, you suddenly become very aware of all the eyes peaking out of the different green rooms to watch the exchange curiously, band mates and crew alike.

Steve grabs one of your hands lightly in his and gives it a tepid squeeze.

“I’m sorry but I am not sitting up there tonight and listening to anyone say anything bad about you.  That’s just not going to happen, okay? Please trust me, I won’t do anything crazy, I’ll just talk to Hopper and we’ll figure this out. I have your back, remember?”

You study his face as he says this and are caught up in the earnestness etched into every corner of it.

“Okay,” you finally say, softly and back away from his path, “thanks.”

And you watch him go.

***

STEVE: Hopper hadn’t known about the Palmer thing. He wouldn’t have booked us if he did. When I told him, he was pretty peeved and we immediately went to go talk to the stage manager—some smarmy  guy whose name I don’t remember.

Told us essentially, that it was no use, that Palmer wrote his own material fresh before each show.

Well, after that, Hopper and I track down Palmer in his dressing room and, you know, we give him a shake down.  Old school style. Like back when Hopper was on the force. … he did most of the shaking down, don’t get me wrong, I was definitely going to get in there, but he seemed to really enjoy it. Plus I had just gotten my hair done.

***

When Steve reappears in the green room half an hour later, Hopper is trailing him smiling giddily. 

Coming up to your side, Steve wraps an arm around your shoulders and leans into your hair to murmur, “We took care of it.”  The giant grin Hopper is sporting lets you know that they had and you exhale a sigh of relief, curling a hand against his bicep gratefully.

You spring back a few seconds later when you feel Eddie’s heavy gaze from the spot he occupied next to you, eyes boring into all the places your body is touching Steve’s.

You can sense Steve’s confusion at the lost contact but before anything else can be said or done, the stage manager appears to move escort the band to the sound stage saving you from having to navigate the complex social dynamic of interacting with your fake boyfriend who wants to be your real boyfriend and your band rival turned friend-with-benefits. Gratefully, you allow yourself to believe for the first time, that maybe luck would be on your side and tonight wouldn’t be so bad.

***

NANCY: Do I think Chris Palmer had a personal vendetta against her? No, not going into that night, anyway. I think he was just a misogynistic idiot who didn’t know what to do about a talented and beautiful woman who also did whatever she wanted.  His mind couldn’t wrap around that.

That was true for a lot of men back then. And now too.

JONATHAN: It felt like Chris had a personal vendetta against her.

***

The first half of the interview went well enough.

The band was welcomed with great fanfare and everyone filed towards the couches in the center of the stage next to the large mahogany desk Chris sat behind. You and Steve were, of course, together at the forefront and you could hear the collective cooing when he helped you down the platform.

The interview started out mild, questions about the tour and being on the road. Thankfully, Steve took the helm for most of them with the band weighing in throughout.

To your surprise, Chris directs his next question to you and Eddie.

“You two are the newest additions to the band, how has the transition been coming from working as a solo artist and from a band of a whole different genre to the Downsides and what made you want to make the change?”

The question was surprisingly insightful which took you a second to process and come up with an answer that wasn’t “Well, Chris, we were forced to join The Downsides at the risk of our careers ending completely.”

Eddie beats you to it, “The royalty checks are better than they are when you’re in a metal band for one—“ it takes the audience a second to realize this is a joke, but when they do the laugh pays off— “but honestly, I like the stability. What they don’t tell you, kids, is that too much rock and roll can be bad for you.” He says this part directly to the camera with a devilish grin.

“What about you?” Chris turns to you once the laughter subside, “do you miss being a free agent?”

You ignore how pointed that feels and smile in response.

“Not at all, the band has been super welcoming and there’s something really rewarding about working together to make something great happen.”

“Don’t miss your old duet partners at all?” The host needles.

“No, not really. At the risk of sounding cheesy Chris, I think I found my forever duet partner,” you punctuate your response with a pointed smile at Steve.

The audience eats your response  up but you can tell that Chris is not ready to let it go. Luckily for you, a well-timed commercial break saves you from further questioning.

When the cameras start rolling once more though and the segment is reintroduced, Chris flashes you a wolfish smile.

“So, does this mean you’ve settled down a bit more, now that you’re a one-duet partner type of gal?”

The question makes your throat run dry because you know that there’s another, much tricker question behind it.

“No, not at all. It’s nice to be a part of something,” you respond placidly.

Chris barely lets you finish before launching into, “well the press sure does miss writing about you! Did you know that, in the last year, you were one of the most mentioned stars on Subrosa, popping up a total of 65 times only rivaled by one Evelyn Hugo in 1967.”

You don’t really know what to say or where this is going but the feeling of dread in your stomach grows.

“In fact,” he continues, “why don’t we play a game that we cooked up with the help of your Subrosa mentions?”

Games were something Chris did with his guests pretty frequently and they varied in execution but in nature there was always something a bit embarrassing to them and tonight was no exception. But instead of going after the band as a whole, this game was targeted specifically at you .

It was a guessing game, “Simple enough,” Chris touted as his assistants bring out giant blown up headshots of various male celebrities, guess which of the men you had been involved with according to the media and which ones you hadn’t been. The joke of course was that you had been linked to all the men whose pictures had been provided.

The looks of shock on your bandmates’ faces perfectly countered the one of self-satisfaction painted on Chris’s smarmy face.

You felt Steve stiffen beside you, leg twitching as if he was getting ready to stand up and leave. Or punch Chris. Before he can, you place a stabilizing leg on his thigh and giving a squeeze. You didn’t want this to diverge into a fight and you refuse to let this vile man make a fool of you on live television.

“Well, this won’t do,” you smirk at Chris. “You only have half of my list out here, Chris! You’re missing quite a few other fellas. I thought you wanted to make this difficult.”

“Oh?” The host is clearly not expecting your response but has no choice to lean in since you clearly have the audience’s attention, “and who could we possibly be missing?”

“The crown prince of Monaco, for starters,” you respond, evenly, “and the entire Harlem Globetrotters ‘83 starting lineup—“ the crowd guffaws at your clear exaggeration, “—and most importantly, this guy,” you reach over to grab Steve’s chin and affectionately squeeze his face. At this, laughter turns into applause and from where you are sitting on the shared couch, you see Chris’s jaw tighten.

“Is there anyone who’s hasn’t made the list?” he cries, trying to turn the joke back on you.

“You, for starters,” you respond playfully, and then add before he can say anything, “but who knows? Maybe this band thing doesn’t work out and in a few years time I’ll become washed up and lower my standards and you and I can give it a shot.”

Before Chris can retort, Steve cuts in with an over-exaggerated, faux-jealous, “what about me?”  That kicks off a jokey bit of banter between the three of you that takes the show all the way up to comercial.

***

NANCY: There was a second part to the game.   

ROBIN: Yeah, that second thing was just mean. It was essentially the same premise as the first guessing game but instead of guessing different men she had been associated with, it was different nicknames she had been given by the media. They were not very nice names either, “Siren of the Strip”, “Heartbreak of Hollywood”, “Pop Music’s Maneater”, you get the gist.

Of course, like with the last “game” the joke was that it had been all is them.

***

The names had been a surprise.  You didn’t know how to react and neither did your bandmates although you’re pretty sure you can feel the heat from Eddie’s glare from the other end of the set.

Still, you kept your cool and  immediately admitted that all of them seemed familiar and instead turned the conversation into criticisms of each of the names, which was gaining too many laughs for Chris to try to stop it.

“See this one I don’t like at all,” you say, pointing to Malibu Minx that had been professionally printed on a giant poster board in newspaper font.

“Whys that?” The host asked wolfishly.

“Malibu Minx? Are you serious? Anyone with half a brain knows I’m from the Hills, not Malibu. Honestly, it’s a little insulting.”

“Come on, they can’t be that different,” Chris still plays along, even though your comment did not go where he wanted it to.

“Not at all! The Hills is where all the directors and actors live, Malibu is where divorced dads take their kids during their monthly weekend visits. It’s like, here on the east coast… well, I can’t think of an East Coast equivalent. Chris, help me out, where do you take your kids during your monthly visits?”

***

ROBIN: You should’ve seen his face when she said that.

NANCY: His first divorce had just gone public a few weeks prior. Guess it was still a sore spot. Not that he didn’t deserve it, he did, but he wasn’t used to his guests fighting back like that. The rest of the show was… tense and then after the show ended Palmer lost his cool.

STEVE: Honestly, I wanted to punch the guy since he brought out his stupid  little games, but I was willing to leave things as they were that night, especially after she had put Palmer in his place, but we get backstage after the show and he starts yelling at her about having “embarrassed” him or something like he hadn’t essentially called her a bunch of names on live tv. Before any of us could even do anything though, Hopper had him pinned against the wall, saying stuff like “I thought we had come to an agreement about the jokes, Palmer.”

He gave him a good shake down, you know how intimidating Hopper can be. Plus Chris looked like he had never been in a fight in his life so he was shaking in his boots immediately. Security had to come to get Hopper off of him and we were all thrown out after that.

ROBIN: Yeah, we were never asked back after that not that we would’ve gone back.It was a shame for him, really, that 1984 episode of The Nightly Show with Chris Palmer was one of the most viewed episodes in the ten years he was on the air.

***

You return to your hotel room in the early hours of the morning, after having gone for celebratory drinks with Hopper and the rest of the band.  Everyone had been thoroughly impressed with the way you had held your own against Chris and even previously-icy Robin seemed impressed and warmed by you.

You hadn’t had much of an opportunity to talk to Eddie throughout the night, something about the undecipherable expression he wore most of the night had left you curious and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe hearing your entire history splayed out like that in front of him and the rest of the world had soured you and he no longer wants anything to do with you.

As you’re getting ready for bed, the ringing coming from the hotel phone jolts you.

“Hello?” You breathe out, harried and confused into the handset.

“Hey, I didn’t wake you did I?” Eddie’s concerned question statics over the line.

“No,” you respond, relief coloring your tone, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, really, I was just thinking how hot it was when you told that dickbag off and I was wondering if you’d be up to me showing you that.”

“Showing me what, exactly?”

“Showing you how hot I think you are. If you’re up for it, of course?”

25 minutes later, with Eddie’s face buried messily in your pussy you’re near inching closer to release when you hear him muttering into the soft skin of your thigh while two of his skilled fingers begin pumping in an out of your tight heat.

“You know, if I didn’t know better, seeing you all hot and desperate to come on my fingers like this would make me think you are a minx.”

Hearing him call you that so low and growly, left you burning all over and you keen into his hands. Knowing his words had the intended effect, Eddie smirks into your thigh and speeds up his fingers.

“Only for you,” you respond once you can find your voice again.

Eddie give a low moan at this and in an instant he clamors up onto the bed and moves to replace his fingers with his dick.

“Say that again,” he challenges as he swipes his tip through your folds and you cry out.

“I’m a minx for you,” you nod along to what you’re saying, hoping that it makes him more eager to stop teasing and finally push inside you.

He does exactly as you hoped and pushes his hips into you hungrily, setting a punishing pace, “Only for me right?”

You nod along, fucked out and on the verge of coming agian, “Yes, only for you, Eddie.”

You don’t make it back to your hotel room that night either.

***

MAY 11TH, 1984–BRIDGEPORT, CT—THE UPSIDE DOWN TOUR

“Are you sure the’d still want to meet me?” You ask Steve one evening, brushing your hair standing in the doorway of the door that separated your hotel room from his.

“Yeah, of course! Why do you keep asking that? Wait… do you not want to meet them anymore? It’s okay if you don’t,” Steve is already trying to hide his disappointment.

“No,” you rush to correct as you follow the sound of his voice to the bathroom, “it’s not that at all it’s just that, well with all the Minx stuff in the news, I worry that maybe they won’t think I’m worthy of the Harrington brood or whatever.”

You’re of course referring to the drama that had followed the band’s appearance on the Chris Palmer show where Chris had given an interview to Subrosa after you had affectively embarrassed him on his own show calling the band talentless and you worthy of every bad name that the press could call you and more.

In response to the interview—and partially inspired by your encounter with Eddie following the interview— you had gotten the word ‘Minx’ embroidered on the back of your favorite suede jacket which you made sure to wear to all of your subsequent interviews and media appearances for the rest of the band’s time in New York.

“First of all,” Steve begins,  rubbing shaving cream over his chin “neither of my parents would ever dream of reading a gossip magazine and even if they did, they hate Chris Palmer, always said he was too ‘blue’ whatever that means. Plus, historically, dinners with my parents haven’t been the most enjoyable affairs, so having you there would really mean a lot to me.”

You smile understandingly at him through the mirror and suddenly the whole domesticity of it all strikes you. In another life, the two of you could’ve simply been a couple discussing meeting one another’s parents in the bathroom of a shitty apartment the two of you shared.

The fantasy is interrupted abruptly by a bright cacophony of knocks at your door.

“That must be Eddie,” you explained,  “he’s coming over to write.”

(He really was.)

With all the fucking the two of you had been doing, writing music had fallen to the wayside and as the end of the tour was insight and Murray’s quota of songs still not met, which meant you had to get writing.

You scramble over to your door and let Eddie in. He almost leans in for a kiss but catches himself when he notices the open door leading into Steve’s room where he is very much watching the interaction with prying eyes.

The two nod at each other in greeting. You linger in the middle between either sides the awkwardness tangible in the air. You look at Eddie’s urging eyes and then flash back to Steve whose puppy dog gaze and newly received information about his parents make you do something that is surprising even to yourself.

“Do you want to help us write, Steve?”

The situation is awkward at first, especially with the glares Eddie seems to shoot you and Steve’s shy insistence that he’s no good at writing music but eventually, after two bottles of wine, the tension subsides, at least a little.

Eddie and you had presented Steve with a few songs that were very close to done but just needed a bit more work on the melody hoping that maybe he had suggestions.

He scans over a song that Eddie had primarily written, “Wild Ride”. Steve had an idea for a rhythm that could match the song and before long, he and Eddie were fully invested, both of them bent over their guitars trying out the rhythm and shooting notes at each other. Arrangement  was definitely not your strong suit, however, you were more than happy to watch the two guitarists work

Steve was fascinatingly somber when it came to writing. He would play the notes over and over again until he found what came next, treating the whole thing like a puzzle that needed to be solved and running his hands through his hair when he was particularly stuck on something. His eyes would close while he was thinking, his lashes fluttering on his cheeks and then blinking open prettily when he had finally thought of a solution.

Eddie was much less delicate and would play around with notes, sometimes scrapping what he had all together and starting new. He tucked a pen behind his ear and was constantly scribbling and crossing out. When he focused on playing, his tongue would stick out from the corner of his mouth a bit.

They worked well together, never talked over each other, and were always willing to listen to what the other had come up with. As Eddie would write notes down in his notebook, Steve would lean in really close, so they were almost cheek to cheek looking down at the paper together. It almost seemed like they’d forgotten you were there and you were too busy refining some lackluster choruses to notice.

Eventually, they hit a wall in their writing and more drinks were ordered through room service, and soon the three of you are sprawled across your bed, drinking French 75s and watching a late night marathon of “Night Court”.

“Hey Harrington, you excited to see your folks soon?” Eddie asks during a comercial break.

You turn to look and see Steve grimace at the question. You know Eddie means well in asking, but the question ruffles Steve nonetheless.

“Not really. We were never really close on account of them sending me away to boarding school when I was eleven and then when we were together my dad’s favorite pastime was criticizing me and my mom’s was drinking,” Steve says, finally, “seeing them once a year is probably the most I can stand, honestly.”

A beat of silence settles over the group before Eddie finally speaks.

“Sorry to hear that man. If it makes you feel better, my folks weren’t exactly parents of the year either,” Eddie responds.

“That sucks, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, my uncle took me in. He’s a great guy. What about you, Princess? Were your parents the perfect image of love and support?”

You scoff. “Barely. I went back to their house right before the tour started, to get some of my things, and they thought I was breaking in and called the cops.”

“Well,” Eddie bristles, “looks like being a terrible parent can happen across all tax brackets, huh?”

“Yeah, we kinda got fucked over, a bit,” you say and the other two murmur in agreement.

The three of you stay silent for a bit, processing what had been shared and how to possibly move past such a heavy topic.

It’s Steve who finally breaks the silence, “Do you guys think Dan and Christine will ever get together?”

“Oh, yeah.” “Definitely.”

***

“This restaurant is obscenely nice,” you shift uncomfortable in your chair, taking in the surrounds and the unfamiliar unease of being somewhere where you felt out of place. Of course, you had grown up in fine dining establishments in California, but East Coast wealth seemed like a different beast entirely.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Robin huffs next to you, “but what else can you expect from Stan and Carolyn? They’re obsessed with letting everyone know how rich they are.”

She of course, had the advantage of knowing Steve’s parents after over a decade of friendship and it made sense that Steve, wanting as much of a buffer between himself and his parents during this dinner, had invited her along as well. So far, she had only been a little hostile towards you which was a personal victory.

The two of you spot Steve entering the restaurant at the same time along with two middle-aged companions that, based off resemblance alone, you knew were his parents.

Steve’s father had the same starkly defined chin and nose as his son, but none his face didn’t turn up into a natural smile like his son. He stood stately and stern, eyes surveying the room with little interest. His wife, Steve’s mother, was made up of refined, delicate features offset by the bright eyes that were clearly passed on to her son. Her entire outfit was meticulously perfect in a way that almost seemed artificial.

Steve introduces you with fanfare and pride that you don’t consider yourself worthy of but you smile along anyway and graciously shake Mr. Harrington’s hand and exchange dotted cheek kisses with Mrs. Harrington.

You exchange niceties and think to yourself maybe they won’t be so bad.

“Stan, Carolyn, it’s so nice to see you again,” Robin grits out through a tight smile.

Carolyn pats her on the shoulder in response and says,, “Please dear, call us Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. We’re out in public after all.”

***

ROBIN: Yeah, Carolyn and Stan hated me. It was like they could smell the gay on me. Or the poor. From the moment Steve had invited me over to spend spring break with them in the Hamptons they did not like me. They despised the idea of their son’s best friend being some scholarship kid whose parents were public school teachers. However bad they were to me though, they were far worse to Steve, which is why I ever even bothered going to these lunches. I didn’t want him to have to suffer through them alone.

***

“Sorry we’re late,” Mr. Harrington drawls as the three of them take their seats at the table, “our idiotic son forgot to bring cash for the valet.” His statement is punctuated by a mirthless laugh and you can tell by the matching expressions on Steve and Robin’s faces and the way Mrs. Harrington makes a grab for the bottle of wine on the table that this level of disparagement is normal for the Harrington household. You remember the comment Steve had made a few nights ago about his father’s favorite pastime

“Don’t worry,” you respond with a smooth smile, “we’re so used to having drivers back in LA—“ a lie “—I can see why Steve forgot about valet. Although, I’m sure you both know what that’s like.”

Mr. Harrington stalled. Everyone at the table—including you—knew that the Harringtons were nowhere near wealthy enough to afford personal drivers but if there was one thing insecure men, like Stan Harrington would never do is admit that they couldn’t afford something.

You were familiar with these types of ego games from your youth, although you took no pleasure in them.

Your youth was spent tucked into your mothers skirts during luncheons and tea and fashion fittings, listening as the women would eviscerate each other with laser-edge precision. If there was anything your mother had taught you was how to sow the seeds of insecurity in someone and although it did not come naturally, you could make an exception for Stan Harrington.

***

ROBIN: It was easy to forget most of the time that she came from money but damn, the way she handled Stan that night made me think that some politician was missing out on having her as their cutthroat third wife. It was like watching an artist paint or someone do sleight of hand magic. He would say something mean about Steve and she would just turn it right back around on him but she would be smiling and batting her eyes the entire time. Even with that though, it wasn’t an easy lunch to get through.

***

“It’s so nice that Stevie was able to make something of himself through his little music,” Carolyn fawns. She means well, for the most part, but the four glasses of wine she’s downed during the last twenty minutes makes her words come out just a tad but demeaning.

Her husband sneers in response, “You say that now, Carolyn, but soon he’ll be back here asking for a spot in the firm.”

“Hopefully not too soon,” you giggle in response running a hand alongside Steve’s arm, “the studio wants us recording our second album as soon as we get back and then we’ll be touring again and we’ll need him for that.”

“But darling, you can’t possibly expect to do that for the rest of your life,” Mrs. Harrington sighs, “eventually the two of you will want to settle down and have children, live a normal life.”

“Well, yeah Mom, but that’ll be a long time down the road—“

“Making music is our life, we don’t want to ever stop—“

You and Steve halt your explanation once you realize what the other is saying. The two of you exchange blank, confused looks and it’s not until Robin says, “I’m sure that they’ll decide what their next move is when the time comes. We still have plenty of time.” That the two of you jolt back into the conversation.

“Right,” you add, “plus with the royalties deal we just secured on this new album, we will be pretty stable financially.”

The rest of the lunch is spent fielding Mr. Harrington’s questions about financials and Mrs. Harrington’s questions about grandchildren. It’s exhausting but the three of you come out mostly unscathed.

The five of you part ways outside of the restaurant, and not a moment too soon. The wave of relief that washes over the three of you once the Harringtons have been sent on their way in a taxi is palpable.

You and Robin offer to buy Steve a drink for having survived the lunch and Steve offers to buy the two of you a drink as a thank you for playing roles in that. Soon, one drink each turns into multiple rounds of drinks spent recounting all the agonizing points of the lunch.

This leaves the three of you stumbling into your hotel in the early hours of the evening, completely and utterly drunk. You ride the elevator together, a mess of laughter and then bid goodbye to one another in front of Robin’s door. She’s ready to sleep off the drinking and you do not blame her.

This leaves you and Steve to stumble back to your joint rooms together.

“You know, seeing you today having dinner with my parents and my best friend almost made the whole thing feel real,” Steve says lowly, standing in your doorway.

“Steve don’t,” you plea softly.

“I just don’t get it,” he cries in response, “we would be so good together. We are good together: we have so much in common and we just make sense, everyone thinks so except for you. Just… tell me why wouldn’t you give us a shot?”

You’re in your room now, perched on the edge of the bed , teary eyes focused on everything in the room other than the man who stands in front of you.

“Steve that’s not fair. It’s just never going to work, why can’t you accept that?”

“Because I’m in love with you,” Steve blurts out, “and I know I may not be your first choice, but if you give me a chance I will prove that I’m good enough—“

“Steve, stop please don’t say that, you’re plenty good enough for anyone,” you stand now, to face him.

“Just not you,” he says devastated.

“No, listen, it’s not like that. I just, I don’t know if I can be with someone in the way that you want me to, okay? You want someone to eventually settle down with and I’m not that girl. I’m the fucking Minx for God’s sake not someone’s future wife. In another life maybe, we could’ve made each other very happy, who knows? But in this one, I can’t be what you want.”

The two of you stand there in silence for what feels like an eternity. Finally, Steve moves, walking past you to sit in your vanity chair.

“Is there someone else you have feelings for?” He asks, timidly.

“No, no,” you insist. “I told you, I don’t do that.”

He laughs mirthlessly in response, “I think you’re wrong about that. I think you’ll find someone, maybe not now or in a year or in five years, but eventually you will find someone and they will make you want to try and you will love them and I will have to watch you fall in love with them and we will both realize I was just not worth it.”

PLAY NEXT TRACK🎤

Taglist: @rexorangecouny , @persophonekarter @mystargirl-interlude @brinleighsstuff @thegaysaretired @nothing2-see @harrysvirgogf @Prior-antidote @stardustofyesterday @buckleyverse

[ghostwritesthings]

Hi guys sorry I haven’t posted anything yet work has been busy and we are short staffed but I’m ready to start writing stuff so if y’all have any ideas you want me to write tell me who I will write about Steve and Eddie :) if can be nsfw as well doesn’t bother me just let me know and I’ll start writing!

-Lex :)

[calumfmu]

The King's Reign

King Steve, the stupid nickname you had heard your entire life. The rumors, the huge ego to match. It was everything that made you hate him, especially when your best friend wouldn't shut up about him. Robin was forcing you to be friends with him, but it wouldn't stop the passion you had dedicated to wanting nothing to do with him.

Steve Harrington x reader, enemies to lovers edition, 7.7k+ words

cw: smut, unprotected sex, oral, Steve talking you through it (!!), fingering, angst, tension, 18+, mdni

You had heard rumors of ‘King Steve’ your entire life. Being in a small town like Hawkins allowed every rumor—big or small, to be spread like wild fire. Even when it came to talking about Steve Harrington’s dick. No matter what you did, nothing could allow you to escape the whispers throughout the town.

When Robin had befriended the man of conversation, you were annoyed, to say the least. You could barely escape him when you were trying not to listen to the gossip mill, but it was even harder when your best friend wouldn’t shut up about the guy.

You chewed on a fry, eyes focused behind your friend as you gazed at a group of girls from your school across the way. They were walking into a Tammy’s, hair higher than ever and short shorts hiked up on their long legs. You stared at them, wondering if they had a run around with the guy.

Robin was droning on about something Steve had done today at work, involving a bunch of kids who seemed too young for him.

A fry hit the side of your head, knocking your focus into her instead of the girls across the mall.

“Yn!” Robin sighed, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re not even listening to me.”

“And you would be incorrect,” you responded, smoothing the grease off of your face from where it hit. You grimaced, annoyed at her antics. “You said something about Steve, some kid named Justin, and a stupid handshake or something.”

Robin pressed her lips in a straight line, rolling her eyes once more. They might roll out of her head at this point, you thought.

“His name is Dustin, and the handshake wasn’t stupid, it was cute,” she huffed, throwing her hands in the air. She pushed her food tray away from her, burger half eaten and fries lay abandon across the plastic.

You gasped, leaning across the table and you crossed your arms over your chest. “Woah, Rob.”

She furrowed her brow, wondering what you were getting at.

“I had no idea you swung that way, new development I see.” You wiggled your eyebrows at her, wanting to see how far her patience went. “I just have to know—is it as big as everyone says it is?”

You laughed and leaned back in your chair, blocking your face with your arms as Robin threw a handful of fries at you. Her patience ran out, clearly.

“Yn, can you please be serious for once?” The brunette whined, pouting out her bottom lip as she looked at you. Her infamous begging face. “I’m just telling you because I want you to be friends with him. I can’t be a child of divorce between you. It’s so emotionally draining.”

You giggled, eyeing the way her uniform made her look ridiculous as she begged you. It was rumpled in all the wrong places, red tie hanging loosely at her neck. It made her look like she was perpetually going to a Halloween party.

“How do you think I feel being an actual child of divorce?”

She gaped at you, mouth hanging open as she was at a loss of words. Sputtering, she found the words to say, “Fuck, okay my bad. You know what I meant!”

“I know, Rob, Im just fucking with you,” you laughed, shaking your head as she flushed in the face. She genuinely felt bad, you could tell.

Your parents had recently divorced, next month marking the full year since their split. Tommy and his stupid friends had made it their entire personality and asked you about it ever since the news hit the town. What’s wrong with Mommy and Daddy, they would ask. Daddy found out Mommy slept with the entire town?

You grimaced, thinking about the memories. None of the rumors were true, but that didn’t falter the town people into thinking that you all should be walking around with a Scarlet Letter on your chest.

Shaking your head, you diverted the subject as you hand came to rest of the table. “Me and Steve have never been friends, so you can’t be a child of divorce, Rob. And also, I don’t want to be friends with him.”

Robin stretched her arms across the table, grasping your hand in the two of hers. “Yn, please. I know we both used to hate him-”

“Still do.”

“-but I really think you’ll like him,” she continued, not batting an eyelash at your interruption. “He’s not that same Steve-”

“King Steve.”

“-that everyone talks about. Those rumors are just rumors, I mean, you know how it goes.” She paused when you looked away from her, squinting as you stared unfocused in the distance. You took a deep breath, clearing your throat in discomfort as you turned to look back at her. “Please, Yn?”

You chose silence in this moment, blinking at her with a serious expression on your face as she pouted at you. Her blue eyes were practically watering at this point, long lashes batting rapidly at you.

“Please, Yn.”

Her pleads continued, grip squeezing into your hand as a deadpan expression was being held on your face. This went on for another two minutes (you counted) as she begged you, leaning down every 15 seconds or so to kiss at your hand.

“Okay! Okay, fine, Rob!” You gave in, laughing as she decided to place kisses all over every inch of your hand. She cheered, throwing her hands in celebration before shaking them clasped at the sides of her head, as if thanking an audience for winning an award.

“I literally love you so much, Yn,” she beamed at you, lips stretched thin as she exposed all of her teeth to you. You don’t think she’s smiled this big, ever. “So, tonight, I was thinkin-”

“Tonight?!” Your eyes opened wide, heart beating in your chest as you realized how soon this interaction was going to be. You thought you at least had more than a few hours.

“Oh,” she smirked at you, tilting her head to the side. “Did I not mention that it was tonight?”

Sighing, you trailed a hand down your face, pulling down your features as she shared the details to come. You loved your friend, you really did. She was your best friend, but Christ was she a lot sometimes.

Awkward wasn’t the word to describe the tension in the room. The only sound you could hear was Robin’s nails clacking against the sound of her glass, and Steve’s occasional cough.

You were curled into the side of the couch, Steve on the other, Robin in between the two of you. Steve was looking every which way except the two of you, hand running through his hair as he chewed on his bottom lip. Robin glanced between the two of you, taking sips of her watered down sloppy cocktail in her hand. She kept moving to say something, mouth opening and closing around empty words.

You with your back against the arm of the couch, feet tucked into you as you stared down Steve. You were curious, if they were to ask you. You took in his features, his long hair, giant brown eyes, and navy—is that fucking cashmere?—sweater across his shoulders.

You were observing why him and Robin were friends, why this man had such a hold on your friend. He was attractive, you could admit, boyish features drawing you in, in a way you would never admit in a thousand years. He seemed nervous in this moment, something you hadn’t expected him to be. Cocky, arrogant, rude, brash, anything but this.

But he was still King Steve. The man you had heard about since you went to elementary school together. You were forced to listen to stories of Steve kissing girls underneath the jungle gym evolved to him fucking them in the back of his BMW at the drive-in. It was repulsive.

Robin cleared her throat, drawing your attention away from Steve as his into her. She offered a small smile, awkwardly tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“So… guys,” she phrased it like a question, voice dragging up on the end of the word. “How about actual conversation?”

“Sure.”

“No.”

The two of you having contradictory answers caused your eyes to be pulled into each other. Your face was unmoving as Steve raised his eyebrows at you, confused.

“I’d rather sit in silence,” you muttered, breaking eye contact with him as you leaned your head into your hand. Staring at him while he was focused on something else was one thing, but holding eye contact made you crumble, a slight blush crossing your features. You focused on Robin, shaking your head as she gave you a pleading look.

The blush on your face didn’t go unnoticed by Steve, a suggestive quirk of his eyebrow coming up to cross his face. It was like a switch flipped, the cockiness that surrounded the King Steve rumors coming into play.

“I think that’s a great idea, Rob,” he muttered, voice low as he stared into you. You turned your face towards the coffee table, examining the items abandon on the glass. Your eye twitched at the nickname of your best friend you so often used. You studied the nearly full bottle of vodka surrounded by shot glasses, a deck of cards, and a joint tucked into a clear baggie.

Robin had been optimistic at the night having a positive turn of events.

“I’ll start,” Steve said, turning his entire body so he was facing you. Your bodies mirrored each other, Robin sitting awkwardly in the middle as her eyes flitted between the two of you. “So, Yn… How come I’ve been friends with Robin this long, and have never had the honor of meeting you?”

“Wish I could say the same,” you rolled your eyes, leaning your head on your hand. Your heart was beating heavy behind your chest as you watched this man practically morph into a completely different person.

“Yn…” Robin’s hand came to rest on your knee, squeezing as her voice was a warning to you. Be on your best behavior, you could hear her thoughts.

“Hmm,” he answered, you felt his eyes brushing over your figure. You felt insecure in that moment, focusing on the bottle of vodka as you debated the quickest way to black out in that moment. “I’m just saying, Yn. I’ve heard about you for so long, yet I think this is the first time I’ve even seen you.”

You cut your eyes suddenly to him, your own gaze darkening as his words echoed through the room. You weren’t going to crumble (this time), your mind intent on showing him you weren’t intimidated by him.

At the eye contact, his smirk widened even further. There was a glint of something in his eye, similar to the stories you had heard of the Harrington Charm, or so it was called.

“Funny enough, I’ve heard a lot about you too, Steve,” you replied, huffing as his name left your mouth. “This town can’t stop talking about you. King Steve and how you’re so irresistible.”

The last word in your mouth dripped with venom, squinting your eyes at the suggestive look on his face.

Silence held the next few moments, Robin looking at the ceiling as she muttered words under her breath. It sounded something like a prayer.

“Would you like to find out, Yn?” His voice was low as his eyes bored into you, teeth dragging across his bottom lip as your name escaped his lips. Hair hung into his eyes, head tilted down slightly as he leaned forward an inch. Your breath hitched at the small movement, words at a loss.

Robin shot up from the couch suddenly, arms thrown into the air as she turned around to face the two of you. She shook her shoulders, grimacing at the interaction. “Okay!”

Steve slowly dragged his eyes away from you, smirk disappearing as he glanced up at the brunette. Just like that, King Steve was gone. He settled back into the arm of the couch as his eyebrows were raised to his hairline, lips parted as he stared at your best friend.

“Enough of whatever that was,” Robin tried to blink away the memory, hands resting at her hips. She turned to look at the coffee table behind her, leaning over to grab the abandoned bottle of vodka and the deck of cards. Grimace still present amongst her features, she held them up. “Drinking game, anyone?”

The night continued among the three of you, shots being poured as matching face cards were being thrown onto the table. You were pretty drunk at this point, vision blurring as you leaned into your friend. She was resting her head on top of yours, laughing at something Steve was doing.

He had stuck a card to his forehead, trying to guess which one it was. His eyes were glazed over, slightly hooded with intoxication as him and Robin bickered back and forth about the number of cards there was in deck.

He was losing the debate, set on why Robin was wrong. You had a dopey smile on your face, enjoying the interaction between the two of them. You could see why they got along, energies so different, yet so similar.

“Harrington, you’re so wrong,” Robin laughed, shaking her head as she ripped the card off of his face. A small red mark was left behind, Steve groaning as he rubbed it.

She stood up from the floor, stretching her arms out as she walked away from where you all were surrounding the coffee table.

“I’m starving, Steve, come with me,” she demanded, holding a hand out to help the man up as he complained.

“What about me?” You asked, frowning as you watched him begin to trail her into the kitchen. Your question went unanswered, the two disappearing around the corner.

You sighed to yourself, laying out your body on the floor as the room began to spin in circles. Eyes closing, you held your breath, praying you sober up a little before the end of the night comes upon you.

The look on Steve’s face flashed behind the darkness of your eyes, the sound of your name in his voice echoed in your ears. You felt a small smile creeping on you, only for you to open your eyes suddenly, viscerally shaking the memory out of your mind.

What the fuck, Yn? You questioned yourself, blinking as you looked around the room. Glancing at a clock across the room, you noticed it was half past 1 a.m., way later than you realized. Fuck, my parents are going to kill me.

You glanced towards the direction of the kitchen, head tilting back against the carpet. Robin and Steve’s voices were low, but urgent, causing you to sit up on your elbows.

You strained your ears, trying to focus in on her words.

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

“Steve!”

“Whaaat?”

Their voices were heavy with the liquor, almost sounding drowsy.

“Stop trying to fuck my friends, Steve. I’m serious.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, breath getting caught in your chest as you heard Steve laugh loudly at her words.

“Shhh!” You heard a thud, presumably the sound of her hand hitting him, based on the “Ow! What the hell!” that followed.

“Steve…”

Silence followed the conversation, your ears straining to see if the conversation continued, only for you to be met with the sound of footsteps coming your way. You panicked, moving to lay back down on the carpet. You crossed your hands over your chest, breathing fast as you tried to pretend like you hadn’t eavesdropped that entire thing.

Glancing up, you saw Steve swaying over you, hand on his hips as he smiled down at you. The overhead light shone over him, creating a halo around his perfectly styled hair.

You allowed yourself to stare for only a second before rolling your eyes.

“You’re blocking my light, Harrington,” you muttered, turning your head in the opposite direction.

He chuckled, moving so he sat next to you. He sat with his legs pulled close to him, being held together with his arms as they were clasped together.

“Sorry, didn’t realize you were getting a tan,” he was sarcastic in his words, light look on his face. He stared down at you, eyes grazing over your stretched out limbs.

“Why don’t you like me, Yn?” He asked, teeth pulling at the skin on his lip.

You closed your eyes, sighing as he started up that shit again. Did you not just have that conversation earlier that night?

“I quite like you,” his voice was a whisper now, hand coming out to dance at the edge of your own sweater. You pulled your arm away from him, tucking your elbow into your side. “You’re good for Robin.”

Questioning where Robin was, you glanced in the direction of the kitchen. Coming out was muffled sounds of her moving around the refrigerator, glasses clinging into one another. She was muttering to herself, something about pickles dipped in Greek yogurt.

“I think you’d be good for me, too.” The low tone of his voice had you squeezing your legs together, watching as his eyes briefly looked down at the movement. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling the strands back into place.

“Leave me alone, Steve.” You tried to even your voice out as much as possible.

“I know you’re curious,” Steve cocked his head to the side, eyes trailing over your face. “About King Steve and his reign.”

You hacked a laugh, surprised at the boldness he had in this moment. The man’s ego was huge, even if he had the looks to back it.

“His reign? Is that what you want to call it?” Before you knew it, a small smirk of your own toyed at your lips.

“Oh, we can call it whatever you want,” the smile dropped from his lips as that darkened look took over his eyes once more. The amber glow of his irises turned nearly black, eyes narrowing as he stared into yours.

“The only thing I’m curious about,” you felt his fingers brush your clothes ribcage, ignoring the sensation, “is how there’s not a single bad thing to be said about this King Steve.”

His eyes slowly dragged over you, starting at your eyes to your lips to your chest and lingering at the spot between your thighs before returning to meet your gaze. He sucked in his bottom lip, gaze glancing towards the kitchen door as Robin began to make her way out, balancing about seven things between her arms.

She giggled, paying attention to the shaking of the items as she tried to not spill anything.

Steve’s voice dropped to a low whisper, barely audible, “Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?”

You gulped, eyes on him as he switched it off, getting up to help Robin as she struggled with the items. You are so fucked.

Ever since that night between the three of you, you had been tagging along with Robin and her newfound friend more. The facade had been dropped, Steve no longer being flirtatious with you as you tried your hardest to ignore him.

He began to treat you the same as Robin, making stupid jokes towards you and letting his nerdy side come out during the interactions. Your hard exterior slightly crumbled away, defenses lowering as you realized that Robin may have been right about him. They weren’t completely gone, just lowered just enough to get to know him.

He wasn’t as much as an asshole as you imagined, he spent most of nights with a bunch of kids anyways. It was surprising, you had muttered some joke about the kids being “a little too young for you, Harrington?” only to earn his disapproval back. It was the most serious he had been since you met him, eyes dropping to the floor as he shook his head. You felt bad, seeing how defensive he had been over these kids he had practically adopted.

After that interaction, you dropped the King Steve stuff, seeing that your perception of him had been completely wrong. You would love to say that a beautiful friendship was blossoming between the two of you, but it was the opposite of that. You still hated him.

Every time you looked at him, you were reminded of his past, his stupid friend group that he used to hang with. Tommy had made the past few years of your life a living hell, torments of your parents separation and alleged affairs circling in the depths of your mind.

You watched him as he sat on the back porch of his house, cigarette hanging between his fingers as he reclined in the lawn chair over looking the pool. Robin sat in the chair next to him, turning the dial of the stereo as she tried to find a station with “goddamn decent music.”

The night sky hung heavy over you, your feet dipped into the pool as you watched the two from your perch on the side of the pool.

Smoke circled around him, lacing in and out of his hair as he looked in the night sky. A single light from the sliding glass door illuminated the back yard. His hair was annoying, perfectly framing his features as he blinked into the stars of the night.

As you took in the view of him and the rest of his backyard, rolling your eyes at the wealth that stood around you. Typical Harrington and his perfect home.

“Okay, fuck this,” Robin sighed, huffing as she shut off the stereo. She rose from the lawn chair, slipping on her shoes that lay beside it. “I’m over this, I’m going to bed.”

She began walking towards the sliding door, ruffling Steve’s hair as she past him. You protested, kicking your foot in the water.

“You’re going home?” You asked, watching as she paused to speak to you.

“Gonna sleep in Steve’s parents room, they’re not home,” she shrugged, yawning as she stretched her arms over her head.

“Never home,” Steve muttered with a shake of his head, thinking it was under his breath as he took a drag of his cigarette. You glanced at him, brow crinkling slightly at his comment.

“Just come up whenever you’re tired, Yn.” Robin turned, muttering a “g’night” as she made her way into the house, sliding the door behind her.

You looked down at your feet, watching the way the water circled at your ankles. Sounds of water swirling and crickets chirping in the stickiness of the night were filling your senses. You almost forgot Harrington was there, the sound of his cigarette burning out in the water interrupting your thoughts.

You looked at him from where he flicked it in the water. He stared at the way the burned bud floated in the water, moving in small circles as it soaked up the water around it. He seemed to be in a trance, eyes unfocused as they squinted around his thoughts.

You turned your eyes towards your feet again, ignoring him. You didn’t care. He was still that same Steve you despised so much.

“You want to sit here?” Steve asked, pulling you from thoughts once more. “Waters gotta be cold.”

“Absolutely not.” You were stubborn, squaring in your shoulders as your defenses picked up. You heard him huff, breath long as he exhaled.

“Why the fuck are you so rude?” He snapped, your head quickly swiveling to look at him. He shook his head as his hand rested at his bent knee, he continued to stare into the water. The half empty cigarette box was being turned over and over in his grasp.

“Easy for you to say, Harrington,” you shot back, anger seething through you as you got out of the pool. Water dripped around your feet as you grabbed your shoes next to you. You began to storm past him, muttering curses at him. “Good fucking night, asshole.”

You stopped at his chair, glaring down at him as he looked at you, eyes shifting up in your direction as his head stayed centered. Warmth flashed over you as you imagined he looked just like The Fallen Angel in this moment, eyes rimmed red as his gaze cut into you.

You ignored the thought, leaning over him as you seethed, “I don’t know what you think this is, Harrington, but we are not friends. We'll never be friends. You made my life a living hell, and I will resent you for that for the rest of my life. These rumors painting you in good light makes me loath you even more.”

Steve scoffed at your words, getting up so he stood in front of you. You bit your tongue as he towered over you, breath heavy as he searched your face, your harsh words lingering in the air.

“I didn’t do anything to you,” he whispered, voice low as your heart thundered. You swore he could hear it as he glanced down your body. "I've been nothing but nice to you."

“Liar.” You shook your head, taking a step back as he took one in your direction.

“Okay,” he nodded his head, lips forming a frown. His hand reached up to pull at his hair, rolling his eyes as they closed with a sigh. He opened them, hand moving to rest at his hip. “Tell me then, what did I do that was so bad for you, Yn.”

“You know.”

He shook his head, not taking that answer. He remained silence.

“You know,” your voice cracked, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

He shook his head again, tilting his head as he examined you. His own eyes blinked rapidly, jumping back and forth between the two of yours.

You sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. All of the anger dissipated, sorrow filling your chest instead.

“You let Tommy torment me, you let him say what he did about me and all of his stupid friends,” your voice was fragile, volume moving up and down as your words came out. “You might not have said anything, but that’s the worst part, Steve. You were a bystander during the worst times of my life, and you didn’t. Do. Anything.”

Your finger punched at his chest with every word, emphasizing your point. Steve looked down at the assault of the digit, grabbing it between his fingers at the last word.

His touch burned your skin, a feeling that felt so wrong, but so right at the same time.

“You’re absolutely right,” Steve agreed with you, fingers holding your hand tightly. “I was—I was terrible. I was a jerk, a coward, if you will.”

Your eyes looked up into his at his words, hearing him out.

“I’m not friends with him anymore. I met Nancy all that time ago, and things changed for me,” he continued, thumb rubbing circles over the skin. Your heartbeat quickened, glancing down at his movement. “I met Robin, and things only got better. That perception you have of me is so different. So, so different than me now.”

He left go of your hand, watching as it dropped to your side. Steve was only inches away from you, the left over tobacco scent mixing with the detergent of his clothes.

A single tear streamed down your face, your hand shooting up to wipe it away. His gaze softened, shaking his head at you.

“It appears King Steve has dropped his crown,” he muttered, earning a small laugh out of you. You dropped your head, stepping back as a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

Steve’s laugh followed your own, chuckling low as yours picked up. The two of you stood there laughing at each other, an ache in your side forming as you realized the ridiculous situation you were in.

You both quieted down, staring at each other as the moonlight filled the sky above you. The buzzing of the porch light filled the air.

Steve’s eyes were huge in this lighting, his long lashes curled up towards his brows. The small pout of his lips were wet from his tongue darting out, licking at the skin. Moles dotted his skin, cheeks full as joy crossed his features.

You could see him in this light, for who he truly was. That asshole image may have lingered in the back of your mind, but you could see that he was truthful in his speech.

“I may miss him, you know,” you said, looking at your feet as the words came out. “King Steve.”

You glanced up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. His eyes were dark again, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Oh?” You couldn’t pull the emotion off of his face, a mask placed over it.

You nodded, continuing, “I never got to know him the way most people did.”

Smirking at your words, you turned towards the house and walked up towards the sliding glass door. You didn’t bother looking back at him, opening up the glass as you stepped through muttering a goodnight as you entered the house.

It was dark in there, the only light illuminating was the one hanging over the staircase. The image of the look on Steve’s face burned in your mind, how his dark eyes reflected the moonlight. As you trekked up the stairs on your way to meet Robin, you couldn’t help but think that you took things too far at the end. You’ve hated him all this time, why all of a sudden did you want to mess with his head about the idea of King Steve ?

Reaching the end of the hall, your hand reached for the doorknob, stopping in its place as you heard footsteps running up the stairs, fast in their pace.

Your brow furrowed, turning towards that direction as you watch Steve ascend the stairs, turning the corner to the hall in your direction. He was slightly out of breath, colored in the cheeks.

“You want to?” He blurted out, fast paced with his words. You were confused.

“Huh?”

He was crossing the distance to you, eyes determined on yours. Your hand was still placed on the doorknob, grip loose.

“Harrington, what are you talking ab-”

Your words were cut off as Steve closed the distance, crashing his mouth into yours. His hands came up to rest on the sides of your face as your eyes shot open in surprise at the intrusion. Your hand left the doorknob, resting at his chest to push him away.

“What the hell was that,” you exclaimed, finger digging in his chest. Smiling at you, his hands still present on your cheeks as he tugged at his bottom lip.

He made a shushing motion with his lips, stepping closer to place his mouth on yours again. You didn’t protest, fluttering your eyes shut as his mouth began to move into yours, molding into the perfect shape.

His mouth was soft, tongue darting out to lick between your lips, an urgency as you were pulled into him. One of his hands left your face, finding your waist to press his torso into yours. Huffing, the firmness of his body against yours left you breathless as you leaned up into the kiss.

He pulled away, placing two quick pecks to yours before placing a step back. The absence of his hands on your body left a chill throughout your spine. Eyes glazed over, you blinked at him, tongue running over the feeling of him on your lips.

Steve was smug, hands on his hips as he smiled at you. Your mouth flapped open and close, not finding the words to say to him in that moment. You should be repulsed at him, that was your first thought, but you couldn’t be bothered.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” Your fingers came to brush at your mouth, looking anywhere but him. It was the first time you had been shy around him. You were starting to understand the Harrington Effect.

“You don’t need to,” he rushed, crossing the distance to you one last time to crash his mouth into yours.

He pulled you into him simultaneously pushing you into the wall next to the doors of his parents room. Your body hit it with a full yet loud thud, not caring about waking Robin in the moment.

Your mouth moved in sync with Steve’s, hands coming up to mess up its perfect style and leg curling up to rest at his upper thigh. He moaned into your mouth as his hands gripped your ass, pulling your hips into his.

This is wrong, you found yourself thinking as Steve pulled away to mouth at your neck. He sucked bruises into the delicate skin, fingers digging into your flesh. Your hands roamed free, wildly pulling at his belt his teeth grazed your earlobe.

His bulge ground into the fabric of your jean shorts, leaving you breathless as you fumbled with his buckle.

“S-Steve,” you panted into his hair, arching into his grasp.

You felt the smug fuck smile at your neck, breath sending a chill down your spine. “So needy, baby.”

The nickname had you mewling, panting even further as once of his hands came to help with you the buckle. He freed himself, leather straps hanging at his waist as he unbutton the jeans, pulling the zipper down.

Your hand reached inside, grabbing his heavy cock. You both gasped at the feeling, Steve throwing his head back at the sensation of you tugging at him under his pants. The sounds echoing through the air were filthy—Steve groaning, the wet slickness of your hand on his cock, your dirty words of affirmation flowing out of your mouth.

His hand came to rub at you through your shorts, the thick material making you see stars. Your own head hit the wall, the thud louder than before.

“Shhh baby,” he muttered, pushing them to the side as his fingers brushed over your clothed opening. He smirked at you, low groan escaping his mouth as you were already dripping wet. You huffed, squeezing at the base of his cock in retaliation, feeling the way his hips jutted out.

“C-can’t wake Robin,” he gasped, hips moving rhythmically in sync with your strokes. His head was dripping wet, the inside fabric of his underwear soaking it up.

You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance, the thick jean and thin material of your underwear pushed to the side. They brushed your folds, collecting slick as he applied pressure to the sensitive bud.

“Need you, Steve, fuck,” your face was twisted in pleasure, core throbbing as he continued to tease you. The look on his face let you know he was falling apart at your touch too, brow furrowed as his bottom lip was sucked into his mouth.

He removed himself from you, tucking the exposed part back into his pants. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you down the hall, leading to an open door. He pushed you inside, shutting it behind him as he pushed you down on the bed.

You bounced, half smiling as you rid yourself of your shirt, throwing it across the room. The jeans shorts followed, leaving you exposed in your bra and panties.

Steve stood at the end of the bed, gaze roaming over your figure as that familiar dark look took over his features.

“The things you’re doing to me,” he breathed, crossing his arms at his waist as he pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of his chest, littered with hair at the top, made a rush of heat go straight to your core.

Your eyes followed his hands, watching as they pulled down his jeans, still unbuttoned from the hallway. His boner pushed at the front of his boxers, wet patch present as the material tented.

His eyes followed your eyeline, smirking at you as he saw your legs subconsciously opening wider. Your hand came down to rub between your legs, the panties becoming stickier with each passing moment.

“You want me to show you, baby?” His voice was taunting, leaning over the bed to make his slow crawl over your body. You nodded, eyes big with desire as you felt his heat over you. “Say it.”

“I-I want you t-to show me, Steve,” you moaned, free hand reaching up to grab at his neck. He stopped its movement, hand loose at the wrist as he sucked his teeth.

"Ah ah ah, say it again." His low voice had you falling apart, wetness pooling between your thighs.

"I want you to show me, Steve." Clearer this time, you arched into him spreading your legs so he lay between. He smirked and let go, leaning down to briefly kiss your lips before making his way down your neck.

The urgency you felt in your body contradicted his slow, languid movements. You felt the admiration in his movements, teeth nipping at your skin lightly, his tongue soothing over the marks. He made his way down, kissing over what seemed like every inch of you.

As he spread your legs, he maintained eye contact with you, hair falling into his eyes. His fingers rested at the waistband of your panties, mouth pressing light kisses over your clit. The fabric was thin enough to feel the heat of your breath, and it had you mewling.

"You're so beautiful, Yn," he whispered as he pulled the piece of fabric off of you. Your hand reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes, leaning up on your elbows so you could get sight of him.

His tongue darted out, licking at your clit as you exhaled deeply. Your hips jutted out, trying to feel the full heat of his mouth as his tongue gave you tiny licks, teasing you. Steve's smirk grew, arm resting at your waist to hold you down.

"'M just getting started, my love."

He began to suck at you, tongue dipping in and out of your folds as one of his fingers found your entrance, pushing in. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, moaning at the taste of you.

It was heaven watching him. Seeing the way his face was pushed into you, fingers moving in and out of you with a fever. They curled inside of you, toying at the bundle of nerves deep in your walls. Clenching around him, your hips began to stutter, the weight of his arm adding a pressure that made your head feel light.

Bliss approached you, slowly then all at once. You swore you blacked out for a moment, vision going white as he licked you through the pleasure. Your breath was fast, chest heaving as that familiar over stimulation worked its way through your thighs.

Steve pulled away, satisfied with your unraveling. He licked the taste of you off of his lips, rising to his knees as he pulled his boxers down. His cock sprung free, dark red at the head as it dripped in desperation.

His hand came to stroke himself, squeezing small drops of precum out of the head.

"Steve," you groaned, hand reaching to grab at him. His hips angled towards your reach, he groaned as you made contact. You gave him short strokes, focusing your attention at the head.

"You wanna give me a little taste, sweetheart?" His sweet words of affirmation had you soaked with anticipation once again, a nod coming in reply. You repositioned yourself, lying on your stomach, propped up on your elbows as you licked at his head.

A low groan escaped him, hand coming to rest at the back of your head. You took him in your mouth, lips stretching over his girth as you opened up for him.

His hand pushed on your head, forcing down some of the length that you felt shy in taking. You sucked at him, looking up at him falling apart with small thrusts of his hips into your mouth. His head was angled to the side, eyes closed as you saw them move behind his lids. His mouth was open, free hand gripping at the roots of his hair.

He looked beautiful in this light, chest glistening as a sheen of sweat covered him. His hand guided your mouth, feeling the suction of your lips over his shaft. The way his hips stuttered into you had you choking, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.

"M not gonna last, baby," he muttered, removing himself as you looked up at him. Steve glanced down at himself, seeing the way his cock shone with the glistening of your spit.

His eyes rolled, teeth digging into his bottom lip at the sight. You understood the feeling, the both of you being so turned on, it fucking hurt.

"Turn around for me." Rising to your hands and knees, you positioned yourself, arching your back. Blind to his movements, you heard him shuffle behind you, warm hands gripping at your waist that sent a shock to your spine.

His cock nudged at your entrance, a burn coming as he stretched you open. A high moan escaped your lips, hips running from the intrusion. His hands pulled you right back, cock pushing in even further.

"Shh, baby," he whispered, running his hand up your spine to soothe you. "It'll be okay."

You nodded, looking back over your shoulder at him admiring the way you stretched over him. As he pushed in further, the stretch burned even more. The pain was soothed away by the rubbing of his hands and the words of encouragement he gave you.

"'S okay," he muttered, pushing to the hilt. "I'm right here, baby."

Your knuckles were shaking as you gripped the sheets below you. Your eyes fluttered closed, a sigh escaping your lips.

"All right here, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you." His hips reared back before pressing in again, your back arching as pleasure flowed through your body.

"Steve, fuck," you moaned his name, feeling the way he pushed into you over and over, movements slow. He grabbed onto your hips, fucking into you as the sounds of slapping skin echoed through the room.

"You're taking it so good, my love."

His words had you gasping, hips shooting back to meet his movements half way. Seeing the effort you gave him back, his thrusts became faster, fucking into you with a passion.

Steve's words continued praising you, I love to see you falling apart and feels good, baby? and take it, you love my dick so much. You were panting his name, the only word you could focus on.

That pleasure arched up your spine once more, legs shaking with the promise of release. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, falling to the bed as Steve followed you to it. His large stature hung over your body, fucking you through your high.

You couldn't help, but press your face into the mattress, pleasure rippling through you as his movements quickened. You felt him approaching his own high as his words became short, breath raising a pitch.

"F-fuck, Yn," his voice was even an octave higher, face pressing in between your shoulder blades. His thrusts were irregular, slamming into you as the entire bed rocked. "Gon-gonna cum, baby, f-fuck, you did so well."

He released into you, pressing deep as you felt him fill you up. The warmness of his cum made you moan again, the thick liquid threatening to spill out the sides of his cock deep within you.

"Such a good job," he whispered to you before pulling out, collapsing next to you. He lay on his back, hand reaching out to rest at the small of your back.

You turned your head towards him, blinking slow as you took in the mess of the man. His hair was sticking to his face, cheeks red, and wetness around his mouth. He stared back at you, smirk ever present.

"I still hate you, Harrington," you whispered to him, noticing the way your legs felt numb. Sensing the irony in your words, you felt him leak out of you. A grimace crossed your face.

He laughed out loud, winking at you. He leaned to press a kiss to your nose, watching the way it crinkled under his touch.

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart."

You hid your smile in the sheets, rolling your eyes shut. Happiness warmed your body, the lingering effects of your orgasm. A gnawing feeling came to your heart, chest pounding for a different reason. You had fallen for it, the typical Harrington charm. At that moment, you tried not to tell yourself that things may be different, thinking of his words earlier.

He was different than before, however, the thoughts of King Steve still plagued your mind. This couldn't end well, Steve doesn't end well. You opened your eyes, finding him still staring at you.

"You know, I meant what I said, right?" He asked you, seemingly reading your mind. You blinked at him, ready to push that hard exterior forward. "I am different than I was."

Warmth filled your chest, hope bubbling at the surface.

"I don't know if I believe you," you whispered, voice sounding small in the big room. He pressed his lips together, mouth dropping at the corner.

"Let me show you," he replied, hand coming to brush the hair behind your ear. "Let me do that at least."

Hesitation came over you, silence filling the air between you. A few moments passed as he searched your eyes for any sign of emotion. It was like you had an angel and devil on each shoulder, warning you yet jumping for joy at the same time.

You slowly nodded, a sigh escaping your lips. Steve beamed at you, eyes squinting with the smile.

"I swear, Harrington, if you do anything to fuck me over, I will murder you," you shook your head, not believing you'd give him a chance. He leaned over again, pressing another kiss to your lips this time. His smile was contagious, you fought it back.

"Is that a promise?"

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