#jim joe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nicolewritesthings · 4 months ago

Text

Don't press your luck

Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader

Summary: After the team wins their basketball game, Hopper!reader and Steve go to a party just as friends. But do you leave that way?

Warnings: a little bit of steamy time

Note: it's been a minute, and then I thought I got locked out of this account but I found my password!! This can be read alone, but also is an installment for my hopper x harrington series because I love that idea so much.

Read another part of that series here: What would Madonna do?

Enjoy :)

Spring 1985

Hawkins High School's gym is filled to the brim during a much anticipated match up this basketball season. The crowd cheers on their Tigers as the clock dwindles down to under a minute left of the fourth quarter.

Steve is having a particularly good game, leading the team in points. Boy, did he need the win. After everything that happened a few months ago with Nancy and another brush with death, he really needed some good energy. Dare he think, to get back a bit of the King Steve glory again.

He weaves down the court, faking out a player, and SWISH. Another basket. The crowd ROARS. Steve looks up at the scoreboard: 35 seconds, they're up by 4. Let's keep it that way.

From the crowd, little miss Hopper watches intently. Quite literally on the edge of her seat. She doesn't normally go to basketball games. Maybe she went to a couple with Nancy her freshman year, but basketball really wasn't her preferred sport. So, when she and Nancy naturally drifted apart and made new friends, she had no one forcing her to these games. That is, until now.

Her newly formed friendship with Steve started last Halloween when she was stuck babysitting a bunch of kids, fighting monsters, and getting beaten up by Hargrove. Trauma really bonds the least likely of friends.

Now the two really couldn't get enough of each other. And that is meant in the most platonic way possible. Well, sort of. The two are both major flirts, so it's not her fault when the banter crosses that line and there's a little too friendly of touching. It would also explain why she was at a basketball game for the first time in two years. Yeah, to support her new friend. But, she can't lie to herself, she really wanted to see him sweaty and aggressive and thankfully - winning.

So, Miss Hopper watched as Steve ran down the court again, bidding his teammate for the ball. It's passed to him and she stands up along with the rest of the crowd. They all watch in anticipation as Steve shoots and - SWISH, sinks it into the basket.

The buzzer sounds and the crowd erupts. Hawkins won! Against their rivals no less! She CHEERS, high-fiving the students around her.

Her eyes are on Steve as he celebrates with his team. She smiles, damn he needed this.

Steve breaks apart from his teammates and looks up to the crowd, easily finding her already staring back at him. He gives her an arrogant shrug, making her roll her eyes so hard, but that smirk doesn't leave either one of their faces. He nods his head toward the locker room, silently communicating to her in the very loud, packed gym.

------------

Hopper waits outside the gym in the parking lot, where some other students are waiting for their friends and most likely - boyfriends. Some of the girls look over at her and eye her "GO STEVE" sign. She know how this looks, but making the sign gave her a really good laugh. With all its glitter and pep. She knew Steve would crack up too.

But here, now faced with presumably other girlfriends, she feels just a slight bit of insecurity. Then Marissa Adams is striding over to her, and Marissa's other friend, Ashley something, follows. Marissa nods over at the closed locker room doors.

"You're Steve's girl now?" Marissa asks casually.

Hopper shake her head, "just friends."

Marissa nods, her hands in her pockets, and shares a look with Ashley. She eyes the sign then looks back at Hopper and says, "no girl's just friends with Steve Harrington."

Marissa's a senior like Steve, and it's safe to assume there's some history there. Hopper thinks back, trying to recall any rumor about the two of them together but comes up short. He's been with a lot of girls, she knew that much. But, she'll have to ask Steve about her later.

"Well, there's a first for everything," she says, smiling.

Marissa smiles, taken back by her casual demeanor. She's cool, Hopper thinks, and not your typical townie. Her parents are rich, like work in the city and vacation in Europe rich.

"My boyfriend's throwing a party after this if you want to come," Marissa says cooly, "bring the MVP with you."

Hopper nods as Marissa and Ashley turn toward the opening doors. A blonde boy, Mark, envelopes Marissa into a hug. Hopper shifts her attention to a certain dark head of hair racing towards her.

Steve smiles, pointing at the sign, "that is the best fucking thing I've ever seen." He quickly pulls her into a hug. She wraps her arms around him, face nuzzled into his chest, taking in the fresh soap smell and clean clothes.

She pulls back and he takes the sign into his hands, continuing to gawk, "is that blue glitter? So cheesy."

"You love it," she smirk, walking in tandem toward his car.

Steve throws his things and the sign into the back. She eyes Marissa and turn back to Steve, "I got invited to Mark's party tonight."

He laughs at this as the two get into his car, "wait, who told you? I was just going to bring it up."

"Marissa Adams. She thinks we're dating," she flips through the radio.

Steve starts the car, "oh yeah? What made her say that."

She points to the sign and settles on some rock song.

He nods his head, "yeah that is a bit deceiving. You know, I had a thing with her back in the day."

"I gathered that," she eyes him, "she said you're not friends with girls."

"What the hell does that even mean," Steve scoffs, "you and I are friends."

She throws her hands up, "that's what I said! There's a first for everything."

Steve sneaks a glance over at her, taking in her features. Her cute nose, big eyes, perfect lips. He always does this, sneaking a look here and there when he thinks she's not paying attention. But he's oblivious to her knowing smirk and her own stolen glances.

He lets the song sit comfortably in the car, lost in his thoughts of her. Marissa is right, he wasn't close friends with girls. But, that was his former self, his previous persona. Now he had Hopper and her witty humor and their study sessions and their movie nights and late drives to pick up the kids. Not to mention they ate lunch together almost every day, save for basketball practice or her english club meetings.

They were friends. His first close girl friend who he hasn't ended up romantically, or physically, involved with in some capacity. Which is a miracle because god, have you seen her?

Her perfect hair and soft skin that he gets to feel sometimes when she's a little too close or they're a little too touchy. Oh, he's in for it come summer. She'll probably lifeguard again and come by his pool in a tiny bikini and-

"Steve!" she practically yells for his attention. His bicep burns at the touch of her hand enclosed around his arm.

He scoffs, "sorry, what?"

"Let's park at yours and walk. I'll call my dad and tell him I'm crashing at your place again," she shrugs, retracting her hand from his arm.

He breathes out, "good idea. We can sneak some of my dad's booze."

"Fuck yes," she practically moans. Steve sucks in a breath. She continues, "your dad has excellent taste in tequila."

-------

After a night of dancing and drinking and an abundance of school spirit, Steve and Little Miss Hopper make their way up the Harrington's driveway.

"Really? Rob Lowe over Han Solo?" Steve whispers as he unlocks the door. Their game of who'd you rather has gotten very heated.

She follows him inside, slipping off her shoes, "have you seen him in the Outsiders?!"

Steve shushes her, "but does he fight intergalactic space battles?"

“Now you’re suddenly a star wars fan?” she asks in disbelief, “you fell asleep last time we watched.”

“Whatever, I still think he’s a cool dude,” he shrugs.

They head upstairs and into his bedroom. Steve flicks the light on and she immediately beelines for the bed, plopping down onto it.

"But Rob Lowe's eyes are to die for," she doubles down.

Steve fumbles around his drawers, pulling out extra clothes for her to sleep in. He sets them on the bed and sits down beside her. She sits up on her elbows.

Steve shakes his head, "they have the same eyes, don't they?"

She shrugs, "I prefer brunettes anyways."

"You do?" he smirks.

She rolls her eyes and smacks his arm, "get your mind out of the gutter, Harrington."

"Oh, I could go way deeper into the gutter if I wanted to, Hopper," he laughs, looking down at her.

She sits up now, giggling, "deeper, yeah?"

Now he rolls his eyes, and can't help but join her in laughing at their mutually childish sense of humor.

See, friends can laugh like this together, he thinks. He also thinks about how she's staying the night. In the guest room, of course, but still. They can go to the diner tomorrow for breakfast, sit in their favorite booth, and order their usuals. He'll feign disgust at her purely black coffee and she'll pick at his pancakes even when she insists on never getting the sweet option.

"I'm still surprised your dad let's you stay the night here," Steve ponders this every time it happens, "isn't one of his rules, 'no boys overnight.'"

She shrugs off her jacket, "I guess he doesn't see you as a threat. And actually his rule is don't get pregnant, but they go hand in hand."

Is that disappointment she catches in Steve's eyes? Is he seriously offended that her dad, the big scary Sheriff, believes they're just friends too. I mean, hell, he's grown fond of Steve over the past few months with how much he's been there for both of his girls. Also, the Sheriff knows his daughter and he knows when she's hiding something. She's not hiding Steve.

"Don't look all sad, Steve," she moves on the bed to face him, "it's a good thing you're flying under his radar."

"Yeah, but it's like your dad doesn't think I have a shot with you," he slips out, wincing as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Hopper's eyes glimmer. A mischievous look on her face as she debates her next move. She could do nothing and look past this falter in Steve's usual smooth confidence. Or, she could give in a little and entertain this whole conversation.

So, with the help of the few drinks in her system, Hopper eyes Steve, taking in all his glorious features. His long eyelashes and great hair. What would it feel like to run your fingers through it? To tug a little?

She smirks, "do you think you have a shot with me?"

Steve looks up, taken aback by her question. He nearly melts as her big eyes stare up at him. Fuck, what is she doing? Is she doing what he thinks she's doing?

Wait, Steve knows what this is. He's done this a bunch of times with girls. He's egged them on, gotten them to be the ones to make the first move. He's never the first one to lay all his cards out there on the table. He's definitely never felt shy about being attracted to someone before and yet, here he is with the most beautiful girl he's met, in his bedroom about to change into his clothes, batting her eyelashes at him like it's some game.

No way is he going to lose at his own fucking game.

So he does what he does best and reverts back to King Steve. Just this once is fine, he thinks.

He stands up and walks over to his dresser. With his back faced to her, he shrugs, "you tell me."

Hopper sits back, shaking her head in disbelief. She thought she had him for a second there, but now he's acting all aloof and-

She looks up to find him tugging his shirt off his body, leaving the perfect view of his bare back. Oh you got to be kidding me. Now he's playing with her.

The tension in the room is palpable as Steve turns around and leans against his dresser. He doesn't break eye contact as he slips on a loose white t-shirt to sleep in. She stares back, not looking down as he covers his bare chest.

What she says next will change the trajectory of their friendship, she thinks. So she debates her next move, thinking back to how well they know each other now and how if they move into this physical territory, they risk their friendship. Is it worth it?

But the pounding in her heart is distracting and she can't help but focus on the feeling of desire in the pit of her stomach and the way her skin buzzes by the mere thought of him touching her. This isn't the first time she's felt this way with Steve.

She thinks back to the first time she felt this spark with him. When they were walking down those train tracks with Dustin slightly ahead of them. How Steve grabbed her wrist to stop her from tripping over a broken track. The electricity shot through her in an instant. Something she's never felt before.

Then the memory of desire floods her system. When she and Steve sat on his couch watching Nightmare on Elm Street and he pulled her into his chest because he was anxious and spooked. She felt his warmth and could smell his fresh linen scent. God, she could have taken him then and there if she really acted on how she felt.

But now she's in his bed, on the precipice of changing their friendship forever and instead of making the logical decision, she lets the need for his touch consume her.

His statement echoes in her mind - 'you tell me.'

"Yeah, you do," she states cooly, eyes still locked with his.

Steve breaks momentarily, sucking in a breath. He did not expect that answer, but fuck it. He can't help but eye her pouting lips and big eyes looking back at him. Don't do it, don't do it, don't-

and then she looks down at his lips, briefly, but he still catches it and now all he sees is red.

Steve strides across the room and lunges down to her level, cupping her face in his hands. He crashes his lips to hers and oh wow, is it better than he's ever imagined.

She grips his wrists, pulling him into her as he stumbles onto the bed. Her skin buzzes as they kiss, she needs him to touch her - anywhere.

He sits beside her and puts a hand on her waist. She leans towards him, sitting up on her knees and lowering onto his lap. She deepens the kiss as Steve's hands wander over her body.

The pit in her stomach grows more and more as she pushes further into him, grinding onto his lap. He groans and grabs the side of her head and neck, gripping her to look back at him. They eye each other, waiting for the other to break.

Steve bites his lip, "don't do that."

"You sure?" she smirks, going to lean in. He grips her head gently, making her look at him still.

With hooded eyes, he drawls out, "don't start something you can't finish."

Oof.

King Steve strikes again.

It's subtle. This implication that she's going to put out, and that brings her right back to any other hook up with any other guy. Maybe he didn't mean it like that, but it rubs her the wrong way. It sobers her up completely.

She stares back at him and Steve feels the mood shift.

"Don't push your luck, Harrington," she scoffs, nudging his hands off of her and rising from his lap.

Oh god, he fucked up, didn't he?

He goes to stand and go after her, but his hard-on decides otherwise. Steve stays glued on the bed as she grabs her clothes and retreats to the door.

"Wait, I'm so confused right now," Steve says quickly.

Hopper pauses, turning to him, "I'm tired, okay? Let's just talk about this tomorrow."

Before he can respond, she's already shutting the door and crossing the hall to the guest room, leaving Steve very confused and still very turned on by his best friend.

359 notes · View notes