#steve harrington imagine

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

[2.7K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+

SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE

LESSON #3

You didn’t have to wait seven whole days to see Steve again, and when you did, it wasn’t poolside.

This meant that between you both, there were a lot more clothes than normal, but you found out the hard way that that fact didn’t really make a difference to the effect he now had on you. There was a party at some rich kids house on the outskirts of town, someone called Sam that neither you nor Eddie knew all that well but Robin used to work with him at the Shake Shack and well-- if Robin was going somewhere, Steve followed, and if Steve was allowed through the door, that meant Eddie had a ticket in too.

If Eddie was there? High chance you were too.

It’s how you ended up in a neighbourhood that rivalled even Steve’s, each house sprawled out across green manicured lawns and the pools out the back were almost as large as the one you were learning in, a shiny red slide to boot. Three stories, arched windows, a winding driveway to a three door garage and when you entered behind Eddie, the crystal chandelier in the foyer was vibrating to the beat of the music.

Two guys you recognised from the trailer park grabbed Eddie as he pushed his way through the crowd, your fingers hooked in his as he dragged you behind him. They were ready with cash, bills rolled up and an eagerly impatient look in their already glassy eyes, so you waved the boy away and headed to the kitchen, a safe enough sanctuary as you skirted around the makeshift dance floor that had been created in the living room. It seemed that anyone over seventeen and anyone under thirty was at the party, the large space full to the brim with drunken strangers, people moving to the synths of INXS.

The pushed back furniture made it difficult to move around the gyrating bodies, Sam’s parent’s cream coloured carpet already stained and sticky with questionable substances. The lights had been switched off and someone had strung multicoloured Christmas lights around the curtain poles, around the second chandelier above the coffee table. There was a broken disco ball sitting in a wall sconce, pink and green and blue hitting off each mirrored tile, making everything glitter.

You saw Steve before you could make it to the kitchen, rainbows on his cheeks, a stripe of colours across his lips. He was talking to a girl - a pretty redhead who had a drink in one hand and Steve’s bicep in another. The sight of him made you feel as warm as a saturday morning, as if you were walking into water with his naked chest in front of you, his pink cheeks and sleep mussed hair just for your eyes only. It felt almost unfair to see him now, surrounded by others, touched by someone else. He looked just as pretty with a striped shirt on, his hair styled and curling around his ears and neck, one hand shoved into his jeans pocket as the other gripped a beer.

His gaze caught your own, a fleeting thing before recognition clicked at the sight of you and then Steve was moving, the redhead’s fingers catching at his sleeve before he was in front of you, her frown behind him.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” Steve was smiling, eyes drinking in the corners like he was genuinely happy to bump into you. He craned his neck and spotted Eddie, raising his beer in greeting. “You want a drink?”

“Uh, yeah.” You smiled back, heart in your throat because Steve was placing a familiar hand on the small of your back in order to steer you into the kitchen and Eddie was grinning, a full beam that made your cheeks warm. “A drink sounds good.”

You let Steve pour you a vodka and lemonade, and he fumbled an ice tray he found in the back of the freezer, the fizz spilling over the rim of the glass as he handed it to you with a grin. You watched him lick the soda from his fingers, his eyes on yours as he smiled still, his cheeks a little pink and it felt like you were back in middle school and the pretty, popular boy was giving you too much attention.

You weren’t sure why, but you lapped it up happily.

Taking a gulp, you hummed, happy that your drink didn’t burn on the way down and Steve stayed close, his hand gone from the small of your back but his shoulder bumped yours and you could smell his cologne, leftover sunscreen and hairspray.

“You ready for lesson three tomorrow or are you planning on getting black out?” Steve asked with raised brows. “I gotta tell you now, legally, I’m not covered for drownings due to hangovers.”

You rolled your eyes, lips lifting into a smile you tried to suppress because you had absolutely no intention of getting messy drunk in the vicinity of Steve Harrington, with or without the threat of swimming the day after.

“It depends,” you joked anyway, “what does lesson three include?”

Steve smirked, leaning close, hair falling across his forehead and you could see the freckles over his nose, the glint of the chain he wore flashing under the collar of his t-shirt. “M’not sure I should tell you now.” He was all charm, a cheekiness you normally didn’t get to see up close. “You might stand me up.”

You scoffed, a dismissive sound that barely covered your embarrassment because you were sure that your eyes were wide enough to show off how flustered you were. You took another long sip, lemonade and bubbles coating your tongue and you watched Steve stare at the way you licked the vodka from your lips.

“I wouldn’t stand you up,” you murmured, barely heard over the thud of the music.

The boy beamed, ecstatic. “You wouldn’t?”

“Not unless you were planning something drastic, you know, like swimming.”

A laugh burst from Steve’s chest, his eyes shining with an amusement you were proud of producing. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, spreading his feet wide enough that you were able to stand between them. Not too close, not too suggestive, just close enough to each other that girls glared at you and no one tried to interrupt.

“Swimming? In a pool?” Steve cocked his head to the side, one hand nursing his beer, the other reaching out to poke at your side. You squirmed, amazed at how such a friendly touch seemed just as intimate as his hands on your bare back, keeping you afloat. He frowned at you, all faux confusion that made him look unbearably cute. “Who the fuck would think of that?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unable to stop smiling. Come to think of it, your cheeks ached a little, your grin permanently etched onto your lips since you saw Steve, whether it was from being flustered or amused. Your cheeks felt hot, your chest light and you barely noticed anyone else in the room.

It’s why you jumped when two hands caught your shoulders, a diabolical cackle in your ear as you recognised the scent of smoke and old spice a little too late. Eddie smelled like childhood and home but now, standing in a strangers kitchen with Steve Harrington, you couldn’t have been less impressed with your friend’s appearance.

“Hey, there’s a good chance I can shift the last of this green if I hit up this party on Maple Street,” Eddie half yelled over the music, his arm draped over your shoulder in a too familiar way. You wanted to elbow him. “You comin’ with or—?”

He was glancing at Steve over your head, brows raised, suggestive and waiting on an answer from him rather than you. You swallowed hard, noticing how Steve had seemed just as disappointed as you at Eddie’s arrival but he shrugged, nonchalant. “I could walk you home later,” the beer in his hand glinted in the low light, his fingers tightening around it. He smiled, eyes soft, “I don’t mind.”

You wanted to say yes. Fuck, you wanted to say yes so bad and the word was costing your tongue, buzzing and excited, a fizzy candy explosion. But you took too long to look at the boy, tanned skin and messy hair, scruff on his jaw that he hadn’t bothered to shave that morning, the freckles on his cheeks and neck that made you want to touch them.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d kissed a boy, never mind one you really liked. And perhaps that wasn’t even on the cards, maybe Steve didn’t like you in that way at all - but the idea of being alone in the darkened room with strangers, people you didn’t know and people who wouldn’t care if you fell into each other - it suddenly seemed a little too much for one night.

“Um, it’s— it’s okay,” you told him regretfully. You hated the way his eyes seemed to lose a little warmth, his lips turning down before he righted himself. “I should probably just go with Eddie.”

“Pussy,” Eddie coughed, barely concealed and Steve stared at the ground, cheeks pink.

You really did elbow your friend then, the sharp point of your arm finding his rims and he kicked at the back of your heel, childlike in the way he scuffled to get you back in a way that really wasn’t subtle.

“Thank you, though,” you smiled at Steve, hopeful that he’d return the gesture. He did, although not as warm as before, not as confident as he’d been as he’d guided you to the kitchen with a wide hand on your back. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, right?”

Steve sank the last of his drink, licking it from his lips before nodding. He was already back out of the kitchen and you tried not to look defeated. “Yeah, ‘course,” he told you. “See you in the morning.”

“Well,” Eddie watched Steve retreat, his hand slapping down on your slumped shoulder. “You fucked that, didn’t you?”

Steve was already in the pool when you arrived the next morning, still sleep mussed and frazzled from the way your alarm had blared too loud. Despite three weeks of early mornings, it was still a struggle to pull yourself from bed. But the promise of a warm day, pink-blue skies and Steve Harrington made it so much easier than you ever thought.

You paused at the loungers for longer than you needed, your toes curling at the thought of stripping off your shorts and shirt because the swimsuit underneath was newer and skimpier and cherry red. Steve was underwater, swimming effortlessly beneath the surface from the shallows to the depths you weren’t brave to venture to yet.

So you took the opportunity to pull off your t-shirt, a ratty old thing that used to be Eddie's and you cursed picking it up from your floor, hoping Steve wouldn’t get the wrong idea despite how many times you’d told him that Eddie was just your friend.

You let it fall to the sun warmed tiles just as Steve broke the surface, pushing his hair back with one hand as he grasped the edge of the pool with the other. He grinned when he saw you, a familiar and friendly thing that made your heart jump but his gaze darted to your chest, just for a second, just for a tiny moment, and you remembered to feel shy.

“New suit?” Steve asked, sounding casual, his brows raised as if it didn’t really matter what the answer was.

You wondered what he’d say if you told him you’d bought it with him in mind, what he’d say if he knew you’d stared at your half naked frame in your bedroom mirror for far too long, inspecting each curve, each bruise, all the old silver scars and stretch marks, stripes along your thighs that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. This suit dipped low in the back, as modest as it still was in the chest. Would he think your boobs were too small? Too big? Too flat? Uneven? Could he tell?

Would it matter?

It was a vibrant colour against your skin, the same red as the cherries you’d scooped in your smoothie before you’d left, a shade off of Steve’s lifeguard shorts. It seemed too bright now, too silly, but you nodded regardless and tried not to make a big deal out of it.

Steve leant on the pool edge, chin resting on his tanned forearms, water dripping from his wet hair, clinging to his too long lashes. He tilted his head, appraising, gaze gentle, never staring. “S’nice. Colour looks good on you.”

His words made it a lot easier for you to unbutton your shorts and slip the denim over your hips. Chin ducked, you couldn’t hold eye contact, not bold enough quite yet. But you let the shorts drop from your thighs, hitting the tiles and you kicked them under the sun lounger as you flicked off your sliders at the same time. The sun was already blazing, rising higher in the sky, turning the tangerine edges into a warm blue and the heat of it slipped over your skin like a blanket.

Feeling a little less naked than before, you walked to the shallows, Steve swimming the length of the pool to meet you. You stopped just shy of the stairs, lips pressed together and brow furrowed, contemplating. Steve stopped too, watchful as you considered your next move the boy positively beamed when you dropped down to sit at the edge of the water.

The surface lapped at Steve waist when he stood, not too deep but certainly not the gentle entrance you’d become accustomed to. You cringed as you slipped both feet into the cool water, hands curling around the edge of the pool until your knuckles burned.

“Yeah?” Steve coaxed, sounding impressed. Proud. “You’ve got it. You can just slide right in, you’ll touch the bottom.”

You knew you would. The logic was in front of you, just like the bottom of the pool was very much visible. Looking down, you could see Steve’s feet on the tiles, rippling into funny shapes and sizes, his bare legs, just as tanned as the rest of him and dusted with coarse hair. He was planted there firmly, no current or waves to knock him over, steady as ever.

He lay his hands on the top of the water, palms up. His gaze met your own, his smile warmer than the morning. “I’m right here.”

It was comforting, his words, his closeness, even if you didn’t take his hands, he kept them there, waiting. It was enough for you to lean forward, bum slipping off of the warm tiled edge and into the cool water. You gasped as always from the shock of the temperature difference, the water rippling around the tops of your ribs and it was enough to make your nipples pebble, glaringly obvious under the new, thinner material of your suit.

If Steve noticed, he didn’t dare look down.

He did take a step forward though, enough for his toes to touch yours and you could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose, could see the chlorine water that still made his lashes cling together in spikes. It was intimate enough to make you wonder if something like this would’ve happened the night before if you’d stayed. If you had let Eddie and the boy shaped comfort blanket that he was go, if you’d hung back with Steve and shared secrets and drinks under the multicoloured lights, if you’d let him walk you home under the glow of street lamps.

If he would’ve kissed you at your front door.

But then the gate clanked noisily against the chain link fence and there was a splash big enough to soak your chest and the side of your face - Steve’s too - both screwed up in shock.

Eddie appeared from the water - the deeper, indigo coloured end - shaking his sopping curls like a wet, disobedient dog, his tattooed chest bare and much paler than Steve’s. He grinned through his curls, oblivious to whatever he’d just interrupted, his arms spread wide.

“What’s up, fuckers?”

[luveline]

Missing my zombie!steve husband 🫶🏻

quiet day at the camp… hope something bad isn’t brewing… zombie apocalypse au <3 fem, 2k

Steve loves the sound of the river, but he only allows himself a moment to lay down on the riverbank during laundry hours. 

You stand knee deep in the water with your pants and sleeves rolled up, the corrugated metal of an old shed roof that’s been repurposed into a washing board held to your chest. It was pointless to roll your sleeves up, you’re soaked to the bone, even your hair, but the summer sun keeps you warm. 

“Don’t get too hot!” you call. 

“I’m fine,” he says, unwilling to shout. 

“He’s fine!” Robin shouts from beside him. “Numbskull.” 

Steve stares at you, locking you in, so to speak, the nice shape of your hip and stomach, the mess of your wet hair. Tonight, he’ll help you fix it, but there’s no rush and no hurry to dry off while the sun is out, and the fences are up. He turns onto his stomach. Grass tickles his cheeks. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Robin asks quietly. 

“Fine. Can you tell me if she needs help?” 

“Sure.” He listens to the sounds of her moving, likely pulling the slim lengths of her legs against her chest to hug herself, the tan leaves of a book spread out just in front of her. 

Steve could really go for a cigarette. You swapped the last box you found for toothpaste, isn’t that how it always goes? You and Robin found a cheat code in the apocalypse, nicotine with a capital ‘N’. You swap Arctic chewable for socks without holes and boxes of Marlboro’s for the bathroom essentials. Everybody wants them, and you’re great at finding them. Steve never thought he’d crave a cigarette again considering he wasn’t addicted, having smoked for a couple of months in high school to feel cool with his friends, stopping when his mom asked him to. He doesn’t remember why. She’d asked, and he’d listened, as he used to do. Swim team, cross country, basketball, lifeguard training, mowing the lawn, not upsetting his father, taking out the trash, vacuuming, no drinking and driving; task after task after task. Some of it was easy. He liked doing the dishes, and he loved taking care of his mom even if she didn’t feel the same. 

Not that it matters now. Does it matter now? He’s never gonna see her again. She’s a memory. She’s a bad memory, most of the time. 

The more he reflects on it, he decides. She was a bit shitty, but she’s his mom, and she’s likely gone, so he’ll try to remember the cookies they made together and the way she’d smile at him after she tied his shoelaces before school. And also the mean fucking bitch she’d turn into when she drank two glasses of wine. 

“What are you thinking about?” Robin asks.

“That’s the wrong soap,” you say from the river. Your voice floats over the breeze. 

“Fuck off, soap is soap,” Eddie says, your not-so-new friend, Steve’s sworn enemy. 

“I’m just saying,” you laugh. “Look, I’ll wash, you rinse.” 

“I’m thinking about that time,” Steve begins, holding his hand out toward her, open but not expectant, “when my mom and dad came home early from his business trip in Missouri and found us sleeping together.” 

“I’d never heard your dad laugh before,” Robin says. 

“My mom really didn’t like you after that.” He smiles as she takes his hand. They were a lot more touchy, pre-apocalypse. He misses that sometimes. 

“I don’t even think she thought we were dating.” 

“She was disgusted.” 

“She said we were being weird teenagers.”

“I guess we were. I never had a friend like you before so maybe I can’t blame her,” he says. He has something special with you, you’re a best friend because you’re half of his heart, but Robin was his first proper best friend, and remains it. “I missed you a lot when we were stuck in Indiana. There were a ton of times where shit would go wrong and I would get mad at you because I knew you’d know how to fix it, but you weren’t there.” 

“You’d get mad at me?” Robin asks, squeezing his hand. “You jerk. Be mad at yourself.” 

“Can you wait for me next time?” he asks.

Robin’s quiet, then she laughs, “I’m nodding but you can’t see.” 

He wonders how she’s feeling. He admits to not doing that much in the past. Not that he didn’t think about how he made others feel, he was always worrying about that after Nancy, but he can’t say he thought of it in the moment. Steve forces himself to sit up and offer his arms for a hug, which Robin gladly accepts, her frazzled laugh on his neck as he pats her back. 

“Are you okay?” she asks. 

“You know Y/N says I’m possessive?” 

Robin leans away, fingers curled around his elbow. “You’re fighting?” 

“No, just. She says I’m possessive, that I get mad about, you know, my people.” 

“Right. Isn’t everybody?” 

“I never thought I did. I’m not, like, too proud most of the time.” 

“Steve, this is super introspective,” she says, frowning, smiling, a weird expression somewhere melding in the middle of happy and concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s fine if you’re not.” She laughs shrilly. “I woke up the other day and cried and then ten minutes later I felt fine. I’m far from okay.” 

Steve glances past Robin’s head to watch you in the river. You’re sitting down amongst the stones. It really isn’t too deep, water to your ribcage washing suds down to Munson, who’s smiling at you kindly, not smarmy or flirting, just smiling. 

“Why did you cry?” he asks quietly. 

“I missed my cousin, I think.” 

Steve curls his arm behind her head and encourages her in for a fiercer hug. 

“Think we should probably go help them,” she mumbles. 

He takes it for the brush off that it is; sincerity is too much to take, sometimes. If she wants to be evasive about it that’s okay, she already took the leap and admitted to getting upset. 

“I cried thinking about Y/N’s hands the other day,” he says. 

“Steve.” Robin rubs her eye with the heel of her hand. “I don’t even know what to tell you.” 

“What? I’m trying to show you I’m pathetic so you don’t feel bad.” 

“I know you’re pathetic, and I don’t feel bad.” She climbs off of the ground and brushes broken grass off of her legs. Steve climbs up next to her, nudging her with his elbow. “You’re mucho pathetic. It’s kind of crazy.” 

“I think I might try and drown him,” he says conversationally. 

“Why now?” 

“Why do you think?” Steve asks, toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, nearly pitching forward on the wet bank closer to the river.

You and Eddie look up as they approach from different spots of the water. Your smile at seeing him winds him for the thousandth time, just so happy to see him, so in love with you he doesn’t even know what to do for a few seconds. “Hey, honey,” he says, “can I help?” 

“Now you wanna help?” you ask, gesturing to your soaked front. 

You’re messing with him, and he doesn’t care anyways, you can talk to him like crap if you want to. He shuffles down from the mud of the riverbank and into the water, cold and wet like a shock against his ankles, softer as it climbs to his knees. You’re sitting where it’s more shallow, opposed to Eddie on his knees and almost drowning further down. He puts his hand on your wet shoulder and kneels down in the water beside you. “Wanna hug?” you tease. 

Steve hugs you. Doesn’t care that you’re soaking or that the water is freezing against his crown jewels, though he shivers by your ear, prompting your laugh like bubbles in his own. “It’s cold,” he says. 

“Freezing!” 

Not to be a freak, but he can feel your chest pressed to him, and he knows you get achy in the cold. He wraps his arms doubly behind your back and rubs at your sides. “How much laundry’s left?” he asks. “We’re gonna get hypothermia. Again.” 

“You didn’t get hypothermia,” you remind him, folding into his space. “Steve… is everything okay?” 

“Do I look mopey today? Robin just asked me the same thing.” 

“You don’t look mopey, but you’re being touchy. You’re cuddling.” 

“How am I not supposed to cuddle you, dummy? I’m keeping you warm enough to function right now. Without me you’d be an ice cube floating down the river.” He leans back to hold your face in one hand, your cheek under his thumb, water racing down his wrists and your neck. 

You push against his hand gently with your cheek. 

“Sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” 

For lots of things. “I didn’t realise how cold the water was. I would’ve come to help you.” 

“It’s fine. I scrub everything and then Eddie catches it. We’ve only lost one pair of underwear,” you say. “The river’s like a long washing machine.” 

“How much do you have left?” he asks. 

“Nothing. I was just about to get out.” 

“Couldn’t have told me that before I came to get you?” 

“No,” you say, lifting your chin. Not challenging, but close. It’s an offer, Steve decides, kiss me or don’t kiss me. You don’t seem to realise he doesn’t decide, he needs you. If you always wanted to kiss him, you’d always be kissing, all the time, everywhere. 

Steve gives you a quick peck. “Come on, let’s go set up the line.” 

You somehow, together, make your way back to the tents without freezing to death after throwing your clothes on a drying line between trees. It’s warm enough that stripping down to your skivvies is mildly pleasant (away from the eyes of the other campers). You get dressed in the softest clothes you own upon Steve’s insistence, sweatpants and a dark hoodie, three pairs of socks and the tent door left open, before he lays you down on the sleeping bag, and settles between your legs, his full weight bearing down on you, his face nestled in the damp crook of your neck. 

“I couldn’t kiss you the right way,” he confesses. 

“Why?” You pull mildly at the ends of his hair. 

“‘Cos I always want more than one kiss.” 

“That’s a strangely romantic way to say you wanted to make out with me,” you whisper. 

“It’s not like that,” he insists, even though he does want to, and he did in the river, and he does all the time.

“You’re getting kinda heavy, Steve,” you mumble. 

“What?” 

“It’s a good thing.” 

“How dare you.” 

“We got sorta frail for a bit.” You wrap an arm around his head, tip of your nose to his forehead. 

“Yeah. Lucky we’re in camp Eddie now,” Steve says. 

“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” you murmur, so close to sleeping Steve can tell. You just need a feeling of security to nudge you over the edge. 

“Lucky we’re together.” He climbs off of you slowly so as not to rouse you too much, kissing your slack cheek as he settles on your shoulder. “You and me. I don’t care where we are.”

He ends up falling asleep not long after you, lulled by the rhythm of your light snore. 

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter fourteen ⭐︎ Somewhere in these eyes, I'm on your side.

Warnings: fluff, lots and lots fluff, just a teeny tiny bit of angst, just a bunch of tooth rooting sweetness

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: On a rainy Thursday, something shifts between you and Steve, something you can not see yet, while Steve gets lost in a glimpse of the future he could feel on this day.

Word count: 9k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me as always, roe. especially with the last bit, you're the bestest ♡ Steve's shower scene was fully written by her so give her some loveeee

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

The rain paddles against your windows softly, the sun is hidden behind the heavy dark clouds, and the light wind rustles the trees outside. You didn’t close the blinds last night, but it doesn’t matter anyways, it’s dark and gloomy outside. 

The soft covers touch your bare skin, the smell of cologne is heavy in the air, along with the smell of sex that still lingers after the previous night. 

The weight of his arm keeps you in place, keeps you close, he is making your heart flutter in this early morning hour already. 

He is facing you, just as you are facing him. His palm rests on your lower back, his legs tangled with yours underneath the sheets. He pulls you closer when you try to move, tightening his hold on you, but he is still so fast asleep. His lashes look so much longer when his eyes are closed, his features are completely relaxed, he is breathing softly, his heart beats against your palm as you keep your hand close to it. 

You eye the moles on his skin and the scars on his body. 

Your hands always itch to touch him, to graze his skin with the tips of your fingers, and you can do so when he’s fast asleep and unaware of your loving touches. 

You raise your hand up to his face, pushing away the curl that hangs loosely over his forehead. Your touch is light as a feather as you trace the bridge of his nose, and his cheek, before you return your hand back to his chest, freezing when a sigh falls from his lips and he stirs in his sleep, pulling you tighter against him in the process before he sinks deeper into the pillows, eyes still shut and heart still beating softly. 

You breathe out and relax when he continues sleeping deeply. 

You don’t want to get caught admiring him, and touching him like this, when only a few days ago, you feared that you would lose him after Eddie confronted you both. 

You cried yourself to sleep that night. 

His words cut deep, and the fear of losing him added to the hurt. You weren’t ready to lose this, you weren’t ready to lose him, and you thought that you were so very close to it until he showed up the next morning, and asked if things would stay the same between you and him now that someone found out.

The weight that stayed on your shoulders nearly crushed you, but he took it off you, and without realizing that he did, he took some of your worries too, just not the pain, and the mark he left on your heart with a few simple words. But it didn’t matter, because kissing him and feeling his touch again, was all that mattered, to know that it wasn’t over just yet… that mattered. 

You can hide the sadness and the pain when he holds you like this, you can even forget about it… momentarily. 

You forgot about it last night, when he kissed your neck and he marked your skin, when he unraveled you with his tongue and the touch of his hands, when he split you open and kissed you like you were his, when he looked into your eyes and he held your wrist as the tips of his fingers touched your palm, like he wanted to entwine them with yours and feel you closer and closer as you were chest to chest and his lips moved with yours like none have ever did before. 

Shivers run down your spine, and butterflies dance in your stomach when the sound of his voice calling out your name echoes in your mind. 

You might not be the one for him. And you know that there might be others, but you don’t even want to let your mind go there, just the mere thought of it, fills you with nausea. He keeps coming back to you, that’s what matters the most to you. You know that you can give him so much more than anyone else ever could. If only he let you. If only there was a chance. 

You nearly jump from the bed when the ringing of the doorbell pulls you out of your thoughts, and it echoes through the quiet house. 

Your eyes widen, and your heart starts pounding as panic settles deep in your chest. You stare at Steve, who is peacefully asleep, still. 

You flinch at the second ringing. 

“Fuck,” you whisper when you remember the burgundy car in your driveway. There is no reason for Steve to be at your place so early in the morning. There is no believable explanation either, what will you say to whoever it is on the other side of the door?

If this is one of your friends, you are screwed, so screwed. 

You know, as a matter of fact, that it isn’t Eddie – he wouldn’t show up this early unless it was an emergency, and even then, he’d be in your room by now. 

“Steve,” you whisper, trying to shake him awake, but he only grumbles in his sleep and hides his face further into the pillows. 

You sigh. 

You push his arm off and escape his embrace. You throw the covers off, and jump up from your bed, standing in only your underwear for a moment as you search for your clothes, you reach for his shirt instead and throw it on, before you rush out of the room, trying to fix your messy hair as you run down the stairs. 

You don’t have much time to come up with lies and excuses as to why Steve’s car is in your driveway, whoever it is on the other side of the door, is getting a little impatient. 

“I’m coming,” you grumble and unlock the front door before you rip it open, holding your breath. 

“Finally!” 

You sigh out in relief, rolling your eyes at your own panic. You step aside and open the door a little wider. 

“What took you so long?” Your sister murmurs as she steps inside and brushes past you. She is carrying a bag in one hand and the bright pink baby carrier your baby niece is currently sleeping in. 

All your annoyance leaves your body right this second, your eyes soften and a smile appears on your face. 

“Hello to you too, Twinkie.” 

She rolls her eyes at your nickname but pulls you in for a side hug after dropping the bag on the ground. 

“Give me her,” you smile as you take the carrier from her arm, and carry it into the living room, smiling as you eye the little features of the baby girl. You put the carrier down on the couch. “Hi Francine,” you whisper, gently tapping her tiny nose. “She’s so big already!” 

Your sister laughs as she follows you into the living room after kicking off her shoes, “you’ve seen her last week, I don’t think she grew much.” 

“She kind of did,” you whisper, taking Francine’s tiny hand. “They grow so fast.”

Your sister walks over to the window, peeking outside, she clears her throat, “do I wanna know whose car that is?” 

You glance over your shoulder and swallow nervously. 

You’re glad that her memory is awful. 

Everyone knows who is driving the burgundy BMW, and your sister still lived in Hawkins when he got it. She should know who it belongs to.

Her lips curl into a smirk, and she wiggles her brows, “casual hook up, or… is it something serious?” 

You know that she has been waiting for this day. 

It is something serious, to you. 

It is something serious when he holds you closely and kisses you softly, when his eyes soften and his lips curl into a smile at the sight of you. 

It is something serious when your heart flutters every time his knuckles brush against yours. 

It is something serious when you fall asleep in his arms and wake up in the very same spot. 

It is something serious when you keep falling and falling with no end in sight. 

Will you ever stop falling in love with him? 

Will there ever be a moment where your feelings and your love will stop at one level, or will you continue falling harder every passing moment? 

Your sister raises her eyebrows, lips curling into an even bigger smile, when she notices the flustered look on your face, the dreamy look in your eyes. 

“Something serious, huh?” 

You blink. 

Staring at her, with your cheeks now feeling warm… way too warm, you shake your head quickly. 

“N-No.” 

You curse inwardly, for giving yourself away so easily with your stuttering and your blushing. That’s not how you ever reacted before when she mentioned any of your hookups. 

She grins at you, wiggling her eyebrows, “mhm sure, Daisy.” 

You roll your eyes at her teasing glances, but the nickname makes you smile. 

Out of all the flowers, your mom loved Daisies the most, she would put the dainty flowers in your braids, and behind your ear whenever you were out in the garden. You would pick them for her and make little bouquets to surprise her with. 

She always called you her little Daisy. 

Your sister picked up on that nickname, though she used it to mock you at first when she went through a weird phase of hating flowers – which is really ironic considering the flower shop she ended up working at when she moved to the city.

She could’ve given you another nickname, something silly – something like the name you gave to her, but she spared you, luckily. 

“Shut up, Twinkie,” you mumble, as you look back at your niece, who is beginning to stir in her sleep, her long lashes fluttering as small noises escape her mouth. “As happy as I am to see this little bean, why are you here at uh,” you pause, turning your head to look at the clock on the wall, “ten in the morning?” You ask. 

She makes her way over to you, a sweet smile appearing on her face, as she gives you her best puppy eyes. 

“I was hoping that you could look after Francine?” She asks, still smiling. “Lisa is getting married soon, and she asked me to go wedding dress shopping with her, I can’t take her, we’ll probably be out all day, and I can’t wait for Ethan to get home, his shift won’t end before–”

“It’s fine, I’ll look after her,” you interrupt her, despite the slight nervousness that rises up in you. 

You have no experience with babies at all, you have given her the bottle, you even changed her diaper, but your sister was around, and you didn’t spend the whole day alone with her. 

She sighs in relief, she puts her hand on your shoulder, “oh thank you!”

“Don’t mention it, I’d never say no to hanging out with my favorite girl.” 

“You need to spend more time with her anyways, you coming once a week isn’t enough!” 

You frown at your sister, “you’re the one who moved away!” 

She waves her hand at you, walking around the couch, she walks over to the carrier, “she always does that little scrunch with her nose before she wakes up.” 

You smile, watching as she leans in to place a gentle kiss to her daughter’s cheek. 

“Okay,” she whispers, pulling back to look at you, “I put everything into the bag, diapers, bottles, formula, a change of clothes in case her diapers leak, and uh… pacifiers. And uh, you know if she cries just lie down with her and put her on your chest, she loves cuddles.” 

You nod, “yeah, I know, I haven’t forgotten. I got this.”

“Yeah you do, Daisy. And if you need help, just call Eddie–”

“Are you kidding?” You laugh, shaking your head as amusement flashes in your eyes. 

Eddie and Max were there, the last time your sister showed up with her husband and little Francine. 

While the redhead was rather excited to hold the little girl, Eddie felt too afraid to even touch her, and he nearly gagged when Max chased him with a dirty diaper. 

“He looked at her like he was scared of her!” 

Your sister laughs, “yeah, right. Okay, so not Eddie then, I’m sure Max would love to help though, or maybe someone else – but I’ll get going now, I promise, I’ll make it up to you, you got this, Daisy.” She smiles, ruffling your hair, she leans down to look at her daughter one more time, “bye bug, I’ll see you soon,” she whispers and squeezes her tiny foot before she steps away. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later, Twinkie.” 

The moment the front door is slammed shut, you let out a long sigh, and throw your head back against the pillows on your couch. You bring your hand up to your face and pinch the bridge of your nose. 

You are still tired, and it seems as though Steve is still sleeping soundly. 

You want nothing more than to return back to bed and sink into your pillows again. 

You definitely won’t get any sleep now, but you still get up and slowly lift the baby carrier, hoping that the movement won’t wake her up. You try to be careful as you make your way out of the living room and up the stairs. 

When you walk into your room, you find Steve now laying on his stomach, his face buried in your pillow. The sheets are low on his body, his whole back is exposed. 

The tiny cooing sounds from inside the carrier, cause your lips to curl into a big smile. You place it down on your carpet, and kneel down, giggling when you’re met by her big eyes. She starts wiggling around when she sees you. 

“Hi little angel,” you whisper, and lean closer to unfasten the safety belts, before you lift her up from the carrier, placing your right hand behind her head, you pull her into your chest, her hand instantly reaches for your hair, clasping her tiny fingers around it, she makes you laugh when she starts pulling it, making happy noises while she does so. 

You sit down on your bed, and lift your legs up, scooting back until you’re resting against the pillows behind you. You pull the covers over your lower body. 

A small squeal leaves her mouth.

“Shh, someone’s sleeping,” you whisper, tapping her little nose, glancing at Steve who is starting to stir in his sleep. 

You place her on your lap, and giggle at the cuteness as she stretches her little legs out. “That’s a cute onesie,” you whisper, rubbing her belly, “I bet you picked that yourself didn’t you? Pink is a pretty color on you, princess.” 

She babbles and wiggles around as she stares at you with her big eyes. 

Your voice, and the small coos pull Steve out of his deep sleep, his mind is still in a haze, his eyes still closed. 

“Da da da.” 

Your giggle follows the tiny voice. 

Steve scrunches his brows together, gripping the pillow underneath him, he slowly opens his eyes and looks at your side of the bed, his lips part and his eyes widen completely, something in his chest stirs strongly as he stares at the sight in front of him. 

He is still sleeping. 

He is still dreaming. 

A smile is resting on your face, eyes lightened up as you entertain the little baby girl on your lap, a pink bow around her head, big eyes resembling your own as she stares at you with a smile on her face, her hair color is the same as yours. 

Steve swallows the lump that grew in his throat, warmth settles in his chest, surrounding his heart and filling it with something, with adoration. 

His eyes soften when you lean down to kiss her forehead, squishing her tiny cheeks. 

“You’re the prettiest girl, Francis,” you whisper, using her nickname. 

His lips curl into a smile, despite the confusion that still lingers in his features. 

This is surely one of his dreams, he is convinced of it, why else would he wake up beside you, and a baby who looks like you?

But when you turn to face him, and the little girl follows your movement, looking at him with wide eyes, he isn’t so sure anymore. 

He blinks, watching as you reach for Francis’s little arm, waving her tiny hand at him, “say hi Steve.” 

The little girl babbles even louder, making a grabby hand at him. 

Steve smiles at her, raising his hand up, he waves at her.

You can’t help but laugh at the lost and confused look on his face, his brows are pulled together, his lips parted as he looks between you and your niece. 

He turns around on his back, and pushes himself so he’s leaning against your headboard, adjusting the cover, he pulls it up higher. He looks around the room, before his eyes return to the two of you, he runs his fingers through his messy hair, eyes flickering back and forth.

Your lips tug into a smirk, you can tell that he doesn’t understand a thing right now. 

You look at him, as you pull your niece closer, holding her up, you press her against your chest, “can you believe that we made a baby overnight?” 

You almost burst into laughter when his brown eyes widened with pure shock, and he choked a little. 

He blinks, shaking his head, “I know I just woke up, and I’m still sleepy… but… I still kind of remember biology.” 

Francine makes another grabby hand at him, “ma ma.”

“I dunno, but I’m pretty sure she just called you mama.”

Steve’s cheeks heat up, and he turns away from you, looking around your room again before his eyes catch the picture on your nightstand, the one of you and your sister. Oh. 

“Ah… Your niece,” Steve murmurs as he looks back at the two of you. 

“Good morning, Harrington,” you giggle. Francine copies your giggle, and Steve can’t help but smile. “Oh you like that name, huh? It’s funny isn’t it? Harrington.” Her little eyes crinkle, and she starts babbling with a laugh. Steve keeps her eyes on her, smiling at the little girl.

“That’s Francine,” you smile, introducing your niece to him. 

Steve lifts his hand up, waving his fingers at her, “hi Francine, I’m Steve.” 

She squirms in your arms, making happy noises as she blinks at him. Steve chuckles, he scoots closer to you, and he lifts his hand, and touches her tiny one. Francine wraps her hand around his finger, gripping it tightly, making his smile even bigger. 

“Is your sister here?” He asks, without looking away from the little girl. 

You shake your head, “no, she asked me to babysit today. So uh… I’ll be busy with my girl here today.” 

The urge to stay here with you, and this cute little mini you, feels so strong. 

“Want me to help?” Steve asks. 

You’re a little stunned by his question, and can only stare in surprise. 

“Huh?” 

“I mean, I don’t mind staying to help,” Steve shrugs, glancing at you for a second before he gives his attention back to Francine, who stares at him in awe.

The thought of spending a whole day with Steve, taking care of a baby with him, sounds like heaven. 

The only reason why he’s ever even around you without the group is because of sex, and that only. You don’t meet up just to watch movies, cook together or anything else, you only meet up for one thing, that’s all. 

The fact that he is willing to just spend time with you, without expecting anything to happen baffles you a little. 

“I-I… Do you really want to stay?” 

He nods. 

“Not much of a choice, to be honest,” he murmurs with a fond smile on his face as he gestures to your niece who is still holding his finger tightly. 

“O-Okay,” you whisper, shakily as nervousness and excitement rise up in you. 

“She’s so adorable,” Steve whispers, chuckling when Francine babbles at him, ��she looks like you.” 

You smile before you realize what he just said, and heat rushes to your cheeks. 

She’s so adorable, she looks like you.

“I-I uh,” you stutter, trying to keep your cool, “so you’re gonna stay then?”

“Yeah, I’d love to hang out with Blondie and mini Blondie over here,” he chuckles as he taps her nose. 

Your heart could burst right then and there, your cheeks feeling incredibly hot the longer you sit here and stare at him. 

“Cool,” you say with a small voice as you suddenly feel the need to escape for a moment, “would you mind looking after her for a moment then? I wanna take a quick shower or else I’ll walk around looking like a bum all day.” 

Steve turns to look at you, he takes in the sight of your messy hair, and the shirt on your body, only now noticing that it’s his. His insides tingle, and his lips curl into a smile. 

You look like a cute bum. He almost blurts out, but bites his tongue. 

“Sure, go ahead, me and Francine are just gonna hang out, right?” 

She squeals in response, making jumpy movements. 

You both laugh at her. 

You lay her down beside him, and tickle her belly, giggling when she starts kicking her feet, “alright, I’ll be right back, angel.” 

Steve doesn’t even notice how big his smile is, how soft his eyes are as he stares at you, how warm the feeling in his chest is. 

“She might roll over on her belly, and if she gets a little fuzzy just pick her up, she loves snuggles. I’m gonna be quick.” 

Steve scoots closer to Francine, leaning his elbow on the pillow, he rests his head against his palm, and glances at you, “it’s fine, take your time, I’m just gonna chat with her.” 

Francine is still kicking her feet and waving around with her little arms.

“Oh yeah, she’s very talkative,” you giggle, and get up from the bed, you walk over to your dresser and pick out some clothes to change into. As much as you would love to wear his shirt all day, he needs it himself – although, you wouldn’t mind him walking around shirtless. 

Once you get everything you need, you turn back to take a look at them, and you nearly melt into a puddle when you see the way she is still clutching his finger, kicking her legs and babbling something to him, while he watches her with a smile on his face. 

“O-Okay, I’ll be right back.” 

You leave the room in a haste, but Steve doesn’t even notice, too busy staring at little Francine. He adores the resemblance of you, and the color of her eyes that matches yours, she truly looks like you. 

Steve can’t remember the last time he saw or even held a baby, he’s not sure if he ever even held one. He was ten when one of his cousins was born, but he didn’t care to hold him back then. 

Francine keeps making a grabby hand at him, while she tugs at his finger, starting to get fuzzy after a few minutes pass without your presence in the room. 

He sits up straighter and pulls the blanket up higher, he reaches for one of your throw pillows and places it on his lap. 

“Alright Francine,” Steve whispers, he takes a deep breath and furrows his brows in concentration as he carefully lifts her up, supporting her head with his palm, he pulls her closer and lays her down on the soft pillow. 

She coos and starts blowing bubbles, making Steve laugh. 

“Oh, you’re so adorable,” he smiles, pulling her a little closer, “did you pick that bow today?” He asks, eying the headband around her little head. 

She makes a few grunting noises, though looking at him with a happy look on her face. 

“Your auntie loves those bows too, she puts some in her ponytails sometimes,” Steve says, talking to her as though he will get more than just a few babbles from her. “I bet you’re gonna steal them from her someday–”

Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrt

Steve’s face pales at the sound, his eyes widen. 

The noise that came from her diapers sounded more than just air. 

“Oh fuck,” he mumbles before his eyes widen further at the curse word that just left his lips, “I shouldn’t have said that, shit– I mean, I’m sorry, please forget what I just said,” he rambles, as though she understood a single thing that he said. 

Francine babbles, kicking her feet into his stomach with a happy squeal. 

“Um,” he panics, looking around the room, “Blondie!?”

“What Steve!?” You call from the bathroom, “it’s been five minutes!” 

“I uh–” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he furrows his brows, “code red…?” 

You nearly laugh at his choice of words, you only ever used code red in the upside down, for the real emergencies. 

You can already guess what happened, and it only makes your amusement grow bigger. You quickly put your clothes on, and brush your hair before you make your way out of the bathroom and back to them. 

“Okay, I’m here,” you announce, placing his shirt that you stole earlier on your bed, you walk over to his side, and take a seat beside him, “that was the quickest shower of my life.” 

He gets a whiff of your vanilla body wash, of the mint from your toothpaste, and the smell of perfume that lingers in your hair, making his chest flutter. 

“She uh– I think she needs a diaper change.” 

“Oh,” you laugh, “that’s what you’re panicking about?” 

Steve glares at you.

“You wanted to help,” you shrug as you get up again, making your way out of the room again to get the bag with Francine’s stuff. “You gotta learn how to change diapers, Harrington!” 

Steve huffs nervously, “no big deal right?” He whispers to Francine. 

“Da da da.” 

“Yeah,” Steve laughs, “right.”

You come back into the room, and put the bag on the ground, picking out new diapers, wet wipes, baby powder and the spare onesie, along with the thin baby towel that you spread out on your mattress. 

“Alright, Lego head,” you raise your eyebrows at him, “do you wanna practice for your future nuggets or are you scared of baby poop?” 

He snorts, shaking his head at you.

“No, I’m not scared of baby poop.” 

You walk over to them both and lean down before him, you pick Francine up, and scrunch your face up, “yeah, you really need a diaper change, angel.”

Steve watches as you carry her over to the other side, placing her down on the towel you spread out. You undo the buttons of her onesie, smiling at the little girl. 

“Well, come on,” you giggle at him, “it’s an experience you gotta make, Steve.” 

Steve takes a deep breath, he throws the pillow off his lap and removes the cover. He gets up from the bed, standing there in his boxers for a moment, until his eyes find the sweatpants he discarded last night, he quickly throws them on, along with the shirt you wore earlier. 

“Alright,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, he walks up beside you, “just tell me what to do.” 

You chuckle at his nervousness, you place your hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, if Max was able to do it, you can do it too.” 

A breathy laugh falls from his lips. 

You guide him, giving him a little step by step of what to do. 

You watch the way his brows knit together, and the way he is nodding to himself as he follows your words. 

He doesn’t even look disgusted when the smell hits him, he only chuckles at the way Francine continues babbling happily. 

“She’s a happy baby, isn’t she?” 

You nod, smiling down at your niece, “yes she is.”

You hand him the new diapers and the baby powder, before you put the used wipes into the dirty diaper, roll it up carefully and throw it into the trash in your bathroom before you return to your room. 

“How old is she?” 

“She’s gonna be three months old tomorrow,” you say, smiling as you step up beside him again. 

Steve raises his eyebrows at Francine, “oh, you’re gonna be a big girl tomorrow?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, making her laugh. 

The smile on your face widens, the feeling in your chest growing stronger and brighter. 

Her small giggles, and the fond smile that rests in his tired features spark something deep inside of you, a warming and comforting feeling appears as you watch him take care of her with careful and slow movements. 

“Is that okay?” He asks you, gesturing to the diapers he put on her, “or is it too tight?”

You lean closer to him and check the pressure, “no, that’s perfect, Steve.”

“It is?” He asks, surprised. 

You nod, and start to put her onesie back on, “yeah, I don’t even know what you panicked about, you’ve done a better job than me, I didn’t know what I was doing the first time,” you laugh. “You did good, Lego head.” 

A dimpled grin appears on his face, despite the redness in his cheeks. 

“I-I think caring for a bunch of kids that turned into teens turned me into a natural, even babies. I mean, Dustin counts as a baby, doesn’t he?” He jokes, watching the way your eyes crinkle and your lips spread before you burst into giggles. 

Francine watches you with big eyes before she copies your giggles like before. 

Steve’s eyes light up, as he watches you both. 

The warmth in his chest spreads, as happiness rises up in him. 

After adjusting her clothes and the bow on her head, you pick her up into your arms, leaning down to kiss her cheek. 

You don’t even notice just how soft the look in his eyes, how the ghost of a smile now lingers on his lips, as he stares at the both of you in awe, watching the way Francine buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you keep a gentle hand on the back of her head. 

“Do you want some breakfast? I can make you something after I give this princess her bottle, I think she’s getting tired again.”

Steve’s heart thumps strongly in his chest, he can’t deny the emotions of adoration in him as he looks at you with the baby on your arm. 

“I can make you a breakfast sandwich or anything else you want.” 

Steve blinks. 

“Uh, you don’t have to make anything for me, Blondie. I can make you something though.”

You shake your head, “no, you’re my guest, I’ll make you breakfast, and you can feed her if you want.” 

“Okay,” he says with a sigh, nodding his head, “I’ll make you lunch or dinner though.”

“Oh, are you gonna woo me with your cooking skills now?” You giggle. 

He looks down with a smile, “I promised I would, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, you did.” 

Francine clasps her fingers around your hair again, pulling it stronger than before, making you wince a little. 

“Okay, okay, someone’s getting a little grumpy now. I’m gonna go make her the bottle.” 

“I’ll be right there with you, I’m just gonna go brush my teeth real quick,” Steve gestures to your bathroom, “do you need me to carry the bag down?”

“No, it’s fine, it’s not heavy,” you say as you step towards him, “but can you help me put it on my shoulder?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He grabs the bag and steps towards you, putting the strap around your shoulder. His eyes soften yet again, when he sees you looking down at your niece, smiling as she blinks at you with her big eyes. 

Steve doesn’t even notice that his hand still lingers on your shoulder, or that he’s rubbing your back, he is too in awe of the two of you, and that feeling stays with him, even when you leave the room and go downstairs, even when he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he stares at his reflection in the mirror, and he can’t even unsee the happiness and the relaxation in his features, but he decides to pay no mind to it. 

When he joins you downstairs, he finds you in the kitchen, finishing up on Francine’s bottle, you’re shaking it, while whispering something to her as you’re still holding her in your arm, still. 

Steve doesn’t know what it is, but the sight before him, makes him freeze in his spot. 

As you stand there in your kitchen, with a smile on your lips, and a look of adoration in your eyes, you’re cooing at your niece, giggling every time she babbles something at you, he realizes something. 

You are comfortable, right now. 

You’re in your home, away from the eyes of strangers, hidden from the world that you have only shown one side of yourself to, your walls are down, you are just yourself, and there is no shame behind your eyes, because all your attention goes to someone you adore and love, and don’t feel the need to hide from. 

Your eyes shine brightly, your features are relaxed in a way they have never been before, and your smile is so genuine, so real. 

You’re talking to her with a small and gentle voice, you hold her tightly against your chest – and you… god you look so beautiful like this. 

You look so beautiful with a baby in your arms. 

Warmth spreads across his whole body, he likes the sight in front of him, he likes it so much that it should scare him, but it doesn’t. 

“There he is, Francis,” you smile, glancing at Steve, you don’t even notice how frozen in place he is, how heaven struck he looks, “are you ready to give her the bottle?” 

Steve blinks, snapping out of his mind, he nods at you with a blush on his cheeks. 

You brush past him, and gesture for him to follow you into the living room, after you grab the cloth from the counter. 

You place the bottle on the coffee table, and wait for him to take a seat on the couch. 

“Alright, you gotta tell me what to do,” Steve says nervously, as he sits down, “I’ve never done this before.” 

“Don’t be nervous, you got this,” you assure him. 

You step between his legs, and lean down to place Francine into his arms. 

Without needing to be told, he cradles the back of her head, as he gently pulls her into his arms, a smile spreading on his lips when her big eyes look into his. 

“Okay,” you whisper and put the cloth under her chin, adjusting it over her clothes in case a little accident might happen. 

“Am I holding her correctly?” Steve asks, looking up at you. 

The side of her face is nuzzled into his chest, the back of her head resting in the crook of his arm. You didn’t even need to guide him, he truly is a natural. 

“Yeah,” you smile, “you’re doing great.”

You hand him the bottle, and sit down beside him. 

“Did you test the temperature?” Steve asks, and you almost want to laugh at his question. 

“Yeah Steve, I did.” 

He nods at you. 

With a chuckle, you pull your feet up onto the sofa and sit on your knees, turning your body towards them. 

“Okay, now gently place the teat into her mouth and slowly tilt the bottle, she will do the rest.” 

He furrows his brows, poking his tongue through his lips, he focuses on your niece as he follows your words. 

You watch him closely, how soft and concentrated his eyes are, how careful his movements are, how small she looks in his arms, how sweet the sight of them is. 

Francine raises her little arm, and places her tiny hand on the bottle as she starts sucking on the teat, small noises falling from her. 

“Oh my god,” Steve whispers, the biggest smile you have ever seen, now glowing in his features as he looks at her in awe, “she’s the cutest little bean.” 

“Yeah, she is,” you smile and tilt your head as you watch them, the fluttering feeling in your chest sparking.

Her eyelashes flutter, her big eyes still staring into his. 

“I’m gonna cry, Blondie,” Steve murmurs, adoring the little human in his arms. “She's so tiny and adorable.” 

You move closer and reach for the corner of the cloth, wiping away the bit of milk that rolls down her chin. 

“You’re gonna have one of those someday too.”

Steve smiles at your words, nodding as he whispers “hopefully.” 

But he doesn’t notice the way your own smile falls, the way your eyes sadden for a moment, the way you look down and blink away the feelings you don’t want him to see. And he doesn’t realize how quiet you get, he is too distracted by Francine and the thoughts in his head, the pictures of a future he longs for so badly. 

Only when the bottle is empty and he removes it, does he turn back to you, but still too blinded by his mind to see the look in your eyes. You take the bottle from his hand, and place it back on the coffee table. 

“You gotta hold her against your chest now,” you tell him and remove the cloth from her body, you place it on his chest instead, “and gently pat her back so she can burp.” 

You guide him again, helping him hold her correctly as he places her against his chest, he puts his hand on her back, and starts patting gently. 

“Is that good?”

“Yeah,” you whisper and scoot closer to him, you reach for her tiny hand, caressing it as you watch her with a smile on your face, “she’s tired.” 

“Yeah, pooping must’ve been really exhausting,” Steve jokes, making you giggle. 

“Yeah, totally–”

A loud burp falls from her mouth. 

“Oh that was a big one,” Steve chuckles as he stops patting her, “you did good, bug.”

“She didn’t even spit, she usually does a little, wow you really do have magical hands,” you chuckle, and remove the cloth from his shoulder. 

“Told you, I’m a natural,” he smiles proudly. 

You roll your eyes playfully. 

“Do you want me to take her now?” You ask. 

He shakes his head at you, “can I hold her for a while?” 

Confusion flashes in your eyes. You know how badly he needs his coffee in the mornings, it’s one of the first things he does after he wakes up, going into the kitchen to brew his beloved morning coffee. He didn’t even take a single sip yet, but he doesn’t seem to mind, he is too in awe of the baby on his chest. 

Realization replaces the look in your eyes – he is entering a baby fever trance, with your niece nonetheless. It makes your smile reappear, that’s how you feel too, every time you get to spend time with her. 

“Of course,” you whisper, as your gaze softens. 

Francine’s eyelashes flutter, her blinking getting slower and lesser. 

“She’s gonna pass out though, you should sit back a little so she can lay on you.” 

He nods at your words, placing one hand on her back and the other under her bum, he lays back slowly, his lips twitching into a small smile when he sees her already falling asleep. She scrunches up her nose as she nuzzles her face into his chest, making you both laugh when she suddenly throws her hand up, managing to catch onto a strand of his hair. 

She wiggles around for a moment, before her eyes start falling shut. 

“And she’s out,” Steve whispers, chuckling to himself. “I wish I could fall asleep this fast.” 

“Yeah, me too.”

Her cheek is squished against him, she’s breathing softly now, her hand falling from his hair and onto his shoulder, her little headband beginning to slip off. 

You reach out to take it off her head slowly, and lean in to place a soft kiss on her forehead, unaware of the fond smile on Steve’s lips, or the feelings that rush through him because of you. 

“I’m gonna go make some coffee and breakfast now,” you mumble as you pull away, and get up from the couch, grabbing the bottle and the cloth. 

Steve’s eyes follow you as you walk over to the TV stand, and grab the remote, handing it to him, “you can watch something if you want, it won’t disturb her, she’s a heavy sleeper.”

“I’m good, I’ll watch her for now,” he whispers. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you say, and give him a smile before you leave the room. 

A genuine smile. 

You smiled at him before, countless of times actually, but he could never tell what was real and what wasn’t, what was genuine and what was forced or just sarcastic. But this, this was a real smile, and there was no second meaning behind it. You just smiled at him, naturally. It makes him feel… happy, and as he looks down at the little girl that has your features, he realizes something. 

The feeling in his chest was never for nothing, it was never false or misleading. 

It was just as real as the smile you blessed him with. 

Suddenly, everything before him doesn't seem as dull and colorless as it did all these past months and even years, something sparks before his eyes and he can see again, he can feel something besides the never ending gnawing in his chest and the restlessness in his bones, the fears that nestled deep into his soul. He finally sees something other than the darkened clouds and the red lights that keep flashing before his eyes. 

A light that keeps peeking through every once in a while is on the verge of breaking through, making the walls around him rattle as the foundation starts to crumble, one brick at a time starts falling into an abyss. 

A future lays before his eyes, calling out to him and waiting to be grasped, an echo, a whisper, a glimpse of what could be if things were only different. 

For the rest of the day, Steve feels as though he had fallen into a pleasant dream, a world where it’s only you and him, a little girl that made him realize just how badly he wants to have a family of his own – he already knew that he wanted it, but he pictured the wrong person by his side, a person he no longer even wanted. 

He was blinded by old feelings, and the wish to have something real again, when it never even was to begin with. 

The feelings that are sparking in him now, feel so different from anything that he had ever felt before, and he only opens his eyes to them more and more as the day passes, and he sees a side of you that he had never seen before. 

He sees with how much love and gentleness you treat your niece, he sees the way your eyes hold nothing but adoration for the girl that you would do anything for. 

He hears how soft your voice can get. 

He feels how soft your touch can be when you once again hand her to him. 

And his heart beats so strongly, so fastly in his chest when a giggle falls from your lips after Francine pouts when you take her away from him again, only to be forced to place her back into his arms when she almost starts crying. 

Steve adores her, and he adores you – a little more as every second of this day passes. 

The thing that pushes him nearer towards the finish line of realization, is this very moment in front of him. 

Your niece fell asleep on his chest yet again, you are sitting right next to him, with your head on his shoulder and your eyes glued on her, your finger tracing her little features. The urge to pull you closer and hold you feels so strong to the point that his fingers start itching. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t cook dinner for you,” he whispers. 

You look at him through your lashes, the corner of your lip twitching as your eyes flicker to his lips for a brief moment. 

The only light in the room now coming from the TV, the volume set on the lowest. The rain is still falling, even as the night nears. 

“It’s okay, Francis didn’t let you,” you giggle softly, not knowing that the sound makes his heart flutter. “Besides, the pizza was really good.” 

“Yeah, it was,” he whispers. 

He notices how tired you look, how the sleepiness is beginning to set into your features now too. 

“Look at her tiny nose,” you whisper as you look back at her, “and those little hands.”

Something in the way you hold her hand and whisper so adoringly about her, makes him long for you even more – but not in a way he had felt before, no, this is different, this is so very serious. 

Steve lifts his arm as a blush creeps up to his cheeks, he wraps his arm around you, and pulls you closer, “come here,” he whispers into your hair, “there’s space for two Blondies on my chest.”

He doesn’t know what kind of emotions he can trigger in you, with such simple words. 

He doesn’t know that you have been dying to feel this. 

You lay your head on his chest, and he can’t help but smile at the sigh that falls from your lips. You put your arm around Francine, and snuggle against him, and you stay like that, for a while at least, until Steve allows his feelings to take the lead. 

He adjusts the blanket over Francine before he pulls you even closer, and he buries his fingers in your hair, allowing himself to play with it like he only ever does when you’re fast asleep and unaware of his soft touches or the glances that fall upon your skin. 

He would feel joy if he knew about the emotions that linger inside of you. 

“You will be an amazing dad to your little nuggets someday, Steve,” you say in a whisper, it’s almost too quiet for him to hear, “and a good husband too.” 

The shakiness in your voice and the sadness goes by unnoticed by him, he is too stunned by your words. 

If he could see inside your head, he would know how much sadness there is, how the dark clouds always reside, how you don’t see a future for yourself because you know that he won’t be in it, and without him, what will you have? What will you be? A wilting rose, left behind to die. You are barely holding on now, but you are still here, because he is still keeping you alive. Your life is in his hands. 

Steve takes a deep breath, he opens his mouth to whisper to you, only to see you fast asleep now too, your cheek squished against his chest just like Francine’s is. 

He breathes out, lips curling into a smile as he stops playing with your hair. 

“You will be amazing too, Blondie,” he whispers. 

A girlfriend. A wife. A mother. 

Whatever you choose to be, whoever you will bless with your love, they are going to be so lucky to have you. 

And before he can even realize where his thoughts are taking him, a frown nestles into his features. The thought that he will become a memory to you, makes him feel uneasy. The thought that someone will step into your life, and take away what you both have, fills him with gray-ish sadness once again. The image of someone putting a ring on your finger and getting to be the one to lift the veil and kiss you on the altar openly, in front of everybody, and without needing to hide, spreads the darkness in him, yet again. 

He looks down at you, at the way you look so comfortable in his embrace, while your soft hand stays on the girl’s back, he admires you, and he feels no shame to do so, not even when he lifts his hand to brush your hair out of your face. 

But his time with you is cut short when the front door unlocks and opens, and footsteps echo in the hallway, a moment later. 

He turns his face away from you, when your sister steps into the living room, freezing in her steps when she sees him. 

Steve swallows the lump in his throat, giving her a tight lipped smile, he raises his hand to wave at her, “hi…”

She furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of you three, her lips pulling into a confused smile. She takes her denim jacket off and walks further into the room, her lips curling into a big smile when she takes a look at her girl. 

But then her eyes fall back on him, and suddenly, her lips part in surprise. 

“Hi…Oh– you, hang on,” she mumbles, tilting her head before her eyes widen, “Steve Harrington?”

Steve doesn’t know what to think of the look on her face, or the stunned tone in her voice. 

He met her before, at the hospital when she came to visit you, but he didn’t talk to her, and her reaction makes him wonder if you have mentioned him before. 

“Yeah… that’s uh… that’s me.”

The silence that follows is almost too loud, he can see the way she looks between you both, back and forth, as her brows stay furrowed. 

She points a finger between you both, “so uh… you’re her boyfriend?”

Steve hesitates, and he glances down at you, bitterness lays on his tongue when he utters the next words, “uh… no… no, I’m not.” Sadly, he thinks.

And when he registers the words that popped into his head out of nowhere, he suddenly wants nothing more than to escape this situation, fearing his own feelings again. 

“I-I should go now.” 

“Oh, you’re not staying another night?” She asks, a somewhat smug tone in her voice as she looks at you. 

He would love to, but it’s better to go now. It’s not safe to stay, not for his heart.

“No, I have to work tomorrow.”

“Ah,” she nods and walks over to the three of you, “I’ll take her now,” she whispers, and carefully picks her daughter up. The little girl stirs in her sleep, grunting quietly but not opening her eyes just yet. 

“She’s a heavy sleeper,” Steve chuckles as he watches the way Francine relaxes into her mother’s arms. 

“She really is,” your sister laughs, and walks over to the armchair, taking a seat before she looks back up at Steve, “kind of like Daisy when she’s relaxed,” she nudges her chin towards you. 

A smile appears on his face, and he looks down at you, his arm is still wrapped around you, and he already dreads the feeling of having to let you go. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, taking a long look at you, before he decides to get up. 

A sigh leaves his lips, and he slowly slips away from you, replacing his chest with a pillow for your head, his eyes soften when you scrunch your nose up just the way your niece did earlier. He adjusts the blanket over you, fighting the urge to leave a kiss on your forehead before he steps away. 

Your sister eyes him closely, watching how he treats you with so much care. 

When Steve steps away, and looks away from you, glancing at your sister, heat rushes to his cheeks when he sees the way she looks between you both, a smug look lingering in her eyes, a small but teasing smile on her face. 

He wants to run. 

“Okay uh,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck before he points his finger at the hallway, “I’m gonna go.” 

“Okay,” she nods, “thanks for helping with Francine.”

He waves his hand, a smile now reappearing on his face as he looks at the baby girl, already missing the feeling of holding her. 

“No need to thank me, I loved spending time with these two,” he chuckles, pointing between you and your niece. “But uh, I’m gonna head out.”

“Alright,” she smiles at him.

He takes one last look at you before he turns around and makes his way out of the living room, he puts his Nike’s on, and grabs the car keys he threw on the counter, last night. 

“Bye, Twinkie.”

“Bye…” She mumbles with furrowed brows, confused at the name he just called her by. 

The front door shuts quietly, yet loud enough to wake you up. With a flinch, you open your eyes, and look around the room, feeling a little disoriented. You look to your side, the empty spot beside you, making you frown. 

“Your boyfriend left,” your sister's voice sounds through the room. 

You turn to her, finding her in the armchair she always loved so much. A smug look is resting on her lips. 

“Shut up,” you mumble, glaring at her. 

She laughs at you, and leans back, getting comfortable in her seat. 

“Spill. Now.” 

-

The hot water rolls down Steve’s skin, the smell of shampoo surrounds him as he washes his hair. 

His eyes are closed, but a smile rests on his lips, as images of all the things that happened today replay in his mind. 

The fluttering in his chest hasn’t stopped at all, everything you did, everything you said, every single touch of yours has seemingly turned him into a hopeless teenager again – only, he isn’t one anymore, and the feelings inside of him, go much deeper than the ones of a seventeen year old boy. 

And no matter how much he tries to deny them, he just can’t, because it becomes less and less possible to pretend that they aren’t there.

Today, they shined through so brightly, when he saw how soft and gentle you could be, when he saw the sides of you that you never wanted to show. He saw something he never thought was even there. And it causes awful feelings to rise up in him, when he comes to the realization that all these years, you were only protecting yourself from the hurt in this world, and you did so by putting up a front and giving people the wrong pictures of yourself.

You were mean and rough to those you didn’t trust, and he was one of them, maybe he still is, but he saw you today. 

When you greeted him this morning, with your niece in your arms. 

When you kissed her little forehead, and held her in your sweet embrace. 

When you taught him to bottle feed her. 

When you admired her with him, and traced her little features with your finger and a loving smile on your face. 

When you told him how great of a husband he would be someday, and an amazing dad to his nuggets.

Wait… you said nuggets, plural. He never told you he wanted kids, so how did you know? How did you even know he would love to call his children that particular word? Was it intuition? Was it a coincidence? 

His eyebrows knit together with complete and utter confusion as the water just keeps running over his head, and the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. 

The RV. His conversation with Nancy. Him telling Nancy he wants to be someone’s husband and have six nuggets. Him pouring his desires out, thinking that everyone else in the vehicle was sound asleep.

But you weren’t.

Fuck, you weren’t asleep. You heard him. You heard him talking to Nancy, and you– you think that he wants those things with her still. He should clarify it, shouldn’t he? He wants to tell you that it was the dread of the world ending talking for him. He wants to explain himself to you–

Explain himself? Why? You probably wouldn’t care who he has kids with, or who he marries. You would simply give him a thumbs up and a confused look on your face. But– He feels his stomach contracting with nerves, nerves he knows all too well. He doesn’t need to explain anything to you. He doesn’t need to clarify anything. 

But, he doesn’t want you to think he wants that family with Nancy Wheeler.

He really doesn’t.

And he is terrified that he doesn’t want you to misunderstand.

Absolutely fucking terrified.

And then, the realization, the surprise and the nerves turn into absolute guilt. He had also said a few things about you. Nancy told him that it’s sad you had to be included this way into the party, into their problems, but that you looked strong and determined after going into the upside down just one time.

And he replied with how much he desired you wouldn’t have gotten involved at all. It sounded harsh, it sounded vile and venomous… And it was intended that way, or at least that’s what he thought. 

Now, he realizes that he didn’t want you involved so you wouldn’t go through danger, but you did, you went through so much pain and suffering. Nancy was right, you were strong, and you didn’t second guess your actions when it meant saving someone. 

“Shit–” He jumped a bit when he felt the water turn cold, not realizing for how long he had been in his head, thinking, running through his thoughts and memories. He turned the water off and shook his head to get the excess of it out of his hair. 

He got out of the shower and grabbed a towel, a white one that had the smudge of a lipstick stain that never got off. Your lipstick. 

And just that mere stain made his heart jump and miss one beat, two beats, maybe three. Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He really wants you to know he doesn’t mean what he said in the RV.

To both of those things.

Especially the one about Nancy.

“Fuck me.”

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @maroon-cardigan @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @ibellcipem @corrodedcorpses @agirlwholovesrockstars

[keery0s]

a little bit of something i’m working on :)

smut (18+)

-

“Hey,” Steve breathes, his voice low and quiet. You could practically hear him gripping the phone over the call, his desperation more than evident. By the tone of his voice you could already tell what the man was up to. This hadn’t been the first time he called you in the quiet hours of the night and you would soon remember why it wouldn't be the last.

“You there darlin’?” he groans, his voice dripping with need. You gulped, warmth quickly spreading across your cheeks as you held your breath. You wished it wasn’t so damn easy for him.

“What’s it now Steve?” you sigh, feigning annoyance.

“You already know what I need, don't you angel?” he teases, unconvinced by your poor attempt at sounding irritated. “Been thinkin’ about you darlin’...you've got me all hard….” he pouts. You rubbed your thighs together as you felt the ache between them grow, his words echoing in your head. He had you wrapped around his finger.

[strangemagicc]

COMING THIS SUMMER

summary: Seattle was meant to be an escape. A new city filled with unfamiliar faces. Until you see him. Steve Harrington; your old mentor turned sworn enemy and suddenly the big city isn’t big enough.

pairings: older!artist!Steve Harrington x fem!Reader, reader is in her early thirties, Steve is in his early forties (ten year age gap), this is an AU! upside down doesn’t exist

warnings: angst, slow burn, eventual smut, discussions of emotionally abusive relationships (parental/romantic), will add warnings to each chapter

author’s note: voting is still open but there is no beating those numbers for the last poll 😂 I’m so damn excited to write this story but of course finishing WADWSH and getting further into NHTK is priority 🖤

time and place: summer 1988 / Seattle, Washington

trope: enemies to lovers

request to be added to tag list 🧡

winner of Fic Roulette

[item-great]

https://jennifer-946.ludgu.top/jh/EAvaguq

[munsonsreputation]

hii! omg so i rlly love your writing its incredible. i have two requests but you can choose whichever one! the first one is an imagine w steve and the reader based off of call it what you want by taylor. orr a hurt/comfort imagine where the reader is basically comforting steve maybe aft he’s had a fight w his parents or something? again i rlly love your writing literally look forward for new writeups all the time!

at least we did one thing right

a/n: this one has been sitting in my inbox since forever and i managed to stir up this cute little thing. ciwyw is one of my favorite tracks of reputation and i can't wait to get the re-recording of this (hopefully soon!!!)

The party was in full swing, and by party you meant all of your close friends who are gathered in Steve’s living room and kitchen entertaining themselves while you and Steve hid away in his backyard like a routine.

His gaze flickered through the sliding doors, mock concern etched on his features as he mutters under his breath, “I swear to god, they better not pick the pineapple off the other slices.”

You turned your head to see what he was going on about, and sure enough the teenage boys were ravaging the kitchen like they hadn’t eaten in days. At this rate, they were like bottomless pits, and you weren’t quite sure how they were able to put away a portion of food without blinking.

Still, you snorted, swatting a hand over his thigh and garnering his attention back to you.

“They’re growing boys and their appetites are different from when they were twelve. We can order another if they’re still hungry.” You shrugged.

He shook his head, shifting to pull your legs over and across his lap.

“I ordered pineapple for you, and you should at least get to have one slice of it.” Steve insisted, though your orbs were too clouded with heart eyes to see the irritation he wore for the innocently selfish boys.

You pursed your lips into a tight smile, hooking your arm over his bicep, tugging yourself closer to him, “You’re so cute for someone who hogs all the blankets at night.”

He looked down at you, shaking his head with a mushy smile coming over him, “Hey you’re the one who likes the house freezing!”

Steve rumbles a string of laughter into the air, using his free arm that’s not being clung onto, to drape over your frame, practically wrenching your whole body onto his as you begin joining in the amusement. You give up on trying to get the upper-hand, letting yourself sit comfortably in his lap, your joined hands resting on either side of your bodies and you lean down to lay your head on his chest.

You snuggled deeper into the fabric of his shirt, inhaling the lingering scent of his cologne. It’s a simple pleasure of yours to be wrapped up in his arms, high above the whole scene, in your own little world like nothing else mattered.

“You’re my portable space heater, got all the warmth I need,” you declared, pressing kind kisses over his chest feeling his lips brush over your hairline.

Steve thought he must have done something right in this lifetime in order to give himself to you in a way he hadn’t given anyone else before. He doesn’t care that it’s simply you two sneaking away just to act like corny teenagers again. All of that fades into nothing when you look at him the way you do.

But before you could savor the moment, a familiar voice interrupted from above, followed by the squeak of rusty wheels gliding across the frame.

“Are you guys having fun out here without us!” Robin shouted, ringing out closer as she approached you both, but of course not without the presence of Eddie by her side.

You sat up, laughing, while Steve groaned and craned his neck to greet them. “You guys have to stop sneaking off to do whatever this is,” Eddie teased, gesturing between you both with a lighthearted smirk.

Steve grunted, “You’re just mad you don’t have a girlfriend to love on,” he shot back, pulling you down by the wrists to meet his lips in a messy kiss that left you giggling.

Eddie feigned revulsion and quickly retreated back inside, while Robin settled beside your bodies, her eyes twinkling with affection. “I still think you guys are adorable, even though this sneaking off thing is getting old.”

Robin had always been rooting for the two of you — there was just something about you both that made perfect sense, and when you finally bit the bullet, it was safe to say she was celebratory about the whole thing.

“We just don’t want to bore you guys with our public displays of affection,” you teased, sharing a knowing smile with Robin who threw her head back and laughed at all the times your friends would scold you both to cut out the lovey dovey acts.

Steve interjected, “Last time we cuddled on the couch you kicked us out of movie night…in my house!”

Robin rolled her eyes, pointing an accusing finger at him. “That’s because we could all smell the sexual tension between you guys. Seriously, just get it out of your systems before we get here.”

You slapped your hands over your flushed face, groaning behind them, “Noted. We’ll remember that for next time.” You promised, shaking your head.

Steve couldn’t contain his laughter, his eyes crinkling as he turned to his best friend with a pleading look. “Now, can you please leave and let me make out with my girlfriend in peace?”

She rose up out of the lounger with a grin, “If there’s one thing you guys did right, it’s each other… and I don’t mean sex!” With that she disappeared back inside, leaving you both to yourselves.

Steve gently pulled your hands away from your face, his soft smiling easing away any idling embarrassment that you knew was all in good fun. He brought your hands closer to his lips, spreading kisses across your knuckles that made your stomach flip with warmth.

“Well, at least did one thing right,” He murmured, raising his brows up at you as you blushed and nodded.

“We sure did.” You whispered, before cupping his cheeks and bringing yourself down to him.

Your eyes fluttered shut, closing the distance between your lips, fitting themselves together like a daydream. The jokers and the drama queens could take all the swings and call it whatever they wanted to — as long as you and Steve knew it was love.

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

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

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Headcanon that Steve has a magical creature, like a fairy or something, as an ancestor, and that's why he's not more fucked up by the injuries he's received over the seasons.

"Robin, does it seem like Steve sparkles or glows sometimes?" Dustin would ask.

"Nah, you're just seeing things."

"I thought so."

The power is in his hair.

[apheleion]

better than this ; steve harrington

when you feel insecure about your relationship, steve is there to reassure you.

tags: insecure reader, steve is a sweetheart, angst, fluffy ending, food consumption, pet name (bub)

this is inspired by lizzy mcalpine's song of the same name!

You hate the weight that has seemed to settle on top of your chest in these last few days, pressing down until it feels like you can hardly breathe. Painful thoughts occupy your mind, no matter how hard you try to keep them at bay. 

“You okay, bub? You’ve been pretty quiet,” Steve asks over dinner one night. 

You swallow a bite of your pasta and shrug. “I’m fine.” 

He shakes his head. “I can tell something’s wrong. Talk to me? Please?” 

“But it’s dumb…” you sigh. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve just been scared, you know?” 

Steve furrows his brows. “Of what?” 

You let out a deep breath. “Us. Our relationship. I don’t know, I told you that it’s dumb,” you say.

“Hey, no it’s not,” he counters. “What’re you afraid of?” he asks quietly. 

“What if—” You clear your throat, blinking away the tears that have suddenly sprung to your eyes. “What if there’s someone out there that’s better for each of us? What if I haven’t loved you enough? I know you always tell me that I’m a good person, but… what if we’re not meant to be together?”

He gets up out of his seat and comes over to you, pulling you up out of yours. He cups your face in his hands, smiling as he brushes away a bit of tomato sauce that had gotten on your cheek. 

“You’re it for me. Okay? There isn’t anyone else I could imagine spending the rest of my life with,” Steve says earnestly.

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “Are you sure?” you ask softly. 

Steve leans forward to press a kiss to your temple and lets his lips linger there for a few moments. “Yeah. I’m sure,” he whispers.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

thinking about rich!reader and cabana boy steve in one of those ridiculously overpriced resorts on the french riviera or italian coast and he’s all white linen shirts and gold tray with your iced espressos and maybe your daddy always told you not to fuck around with the hired help but oh my god he’s pretty and the cabana changing rooms have a door that definitely locks—

[luveline]

(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡ 

cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago. 

A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch. 

“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you. 

“I wanna see Max.” 

“She has to be here somewhere.” 

That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest. 

Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here. 

Steve frowns at you worriedly. 

“Who died?” asks a new voice.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers. 

“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips. 

“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”

“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Is it awful?” you ask. 

“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult. 

“Who’s throwing up?” you ask. 

“Dustin. He’s outside.” 

Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.” 

He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes. 

“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.

You school your impression. “Like what?” 

“Like you like him.” 

You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?” 

She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?” 

“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings. 

“Looks like something. Are you dating?” 

“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.” 

“He was touching you a lot.” 

“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely. 

“Ew,” Max says with a laugh. 

“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s— 

“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder. 

You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug. 

“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly. 

Oh, boy, you think. 

As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.

From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy. 

Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet. 

“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.” 

“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.

“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.” 

“Steve.” 

“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.” 

“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty. 

“What?” he asks. 

His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles 

You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“What?” 

“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.” 

“I sounded weird?” 

“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.” 

You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it. 

“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do. 

“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.” 

Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.” 

You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something. 

After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie? 

“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged. 

You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews. 

“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way. 

He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused. 

“You were in the way of the light.” 

“That what it was?”

“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself. 

“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?” 

Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks. 

“It’s good.” 

“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.” 

He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you. 

Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise! 

You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this. 

You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing. 

He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs. 

You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes. 

“You okay?” he whispers. 

You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek. 

Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.

The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen. 

A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say. 

“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“I really like you, Steve.” 

He stares at you. “…But?”

“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.” 

“I thought…” And of course he did. 

“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.” 

He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.” 

“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes. 

“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious. 

“Yeah.” 

Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.” 

“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”

“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.” 

“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.” 

“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks. 

“I like you too!” he says loudly. 

A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?” 

You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again. 

“You okay?” he asks tightly. 

“I’m sorry.”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?” 

You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.” 

He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?” 

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 

“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?” 

You nod vehemently. 

Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”

—♡—

The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm. 

A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.

“I think I might melt.” 

“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you. 

“You can be my parasol.” 

“Your what?” 

“It’s a sun umbrella.” 

“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up. 

You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.

He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.” 

If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay. 

“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur. 

He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?” 

“That’s perfect.” 

“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly. 

“No… I’m thinking.” 

“Nothing good ever comes of that.” 

“I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 

You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight. 

“It’s a question.” 

He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world. 

“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.” 

“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”

He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.” 

“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.” 

His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start. 

“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem. 

“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur. 

His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it. 

You tip your head aside to catch your breath.

“Better late than never,” you joke. 

Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️

[taintedcigs]

˚ 　　　 . ✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄

vol 1; made to break your heart — king!steve harrington x fgirl!reader

summary: in which you see your ex making out with someone else leaving you with no choice but to fall right into the lap of his enemy, steve harrington. (wc: 5.2k+)

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, or*l sx (receiving and giving oop), some good ol’ bj, drinking, drgs, weed basically, no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, LOTS OF PRAISES, they are both switches but idk if that counts??, nicknames! reader is kinda heartless basically a maneater, steve is an arrogant bastard, and hes got a big BIG di–heart. some lil’ eddie mention that u might miss if u blink!

authors note: i am kinda thinking a pt.2 of this IM open to all ideas, but i kinda am thinking of making it like a mini-series? and maybe introduce eddie in the second part, and then make part 3 steddie? mmmhmm? what do we think? my asks r open for all and any ideass anyways not proofread bc of my lazy ass. ignore any mistakes.

please like + reblog + interact to support me ! thank u ily

read vol 2 here

Booming music filled your ears, sweaty bodies swaying away from you but you couldn't care less.

Whispers from your back, collected gasps, and all you could do was watch. 

Fingertips clutched on your dress in fury, gaze unable to tear away from the scene playing out right in front of your eyes. 

Tina’s lips were locked onto Billy’s, you thought it was pretty soon to be swapping salivas considering it had been barely two days since he broke up with you. 

The red cup in your hand was almost smushed from the hardened impact of your fists, with a quick go, you downed it, ignoring Tommy and Carol’s cackles as they watched you. 

With a roll of your eyes, you were quick to turn away from them, ignoring your friends calling out for your name—you didn’t need this, you didn’t need to be pampered. You just needed a generous amount of drinks, and maybe someone to keep yourself busy with. 

Tina and her lame-ass party could go fuck themselves.

Billy was an asshole, no real surprise there. And you didn’t care, because the relationship had run its course, again. Tough shit. You were used to it. Another break up with him. 

You didn’t care about it, the only thing you cared about was him crossing the line, making out with another girl in front of everyone. 

Each break, the two of you fucked whoever you wanted to fuck, just to end up together again, drunkenly. But this time he made it everyone’s problem, and you couldn’t let him get away with that. 

The whispers, and the collective giggles every time you passed by were making your blood boil.

You couldn’t let that dipshit ruin your reputation, you weren’t going to pathetically pine over someone who could barely make you cum. And you weren’t going to let any of those gossiping assholes think otherwise. 

You stumble onto the porch with a string of curses leaving your pouty lips, quick to fish out a joint courtesy to that Munson kid, always providing you with the best weed, either free or cheap, depending on how much you adjusted your skirt or batted your lashes at him. 

Maybe, you should pay him a visit. For fucks sake, you’ve seen him play, and he could roll a joint blindfolded, he knew how to put those fingers to use.

You could just imagine the scorching look on Billy’s face, his velvety lips scrunched together, a sickening feeling sinking into his stomach, knowing that you fucked Eddie Munson, the guy he always went to get his weed from.

The idea of it brings a delicious smirk to your lips. But it wouldn’t be enough, no. You needed something more, something bigger. 

“Need a lighter, honey?” A coarse, smooth tone has your head cocking, the joint sitting on your lips rising with the impact. 

Steve fucking Harrington.

Falling right into your lap.

Billy would’ve flipped the fuck out if he knew. He always warned you about him, telling you that Harrington was off limits, no matter what. Well, until now. 

Your gaze locks with his, dangerous, filthy, and exactly where you want him. Before you can drag out the joint to answer him, he acts quicker, brushing his fingertips on your chin, almost tugging you closer to him, he licks his lips, wetting them with a chuckle.

With a gentle flicker of his lighter, the tip of the joint smolders, casting a warm glow to your face that accentuates the smirk curved on your lips. 

Your dress rides up your thighs when you straighten up, taking an inhale from the joint, you blow the smoke in his face without a care. He eyes each of your movements, the stupid grin sitting on his lips growing wider the more his eyes move up and down your body. You almost want to chuckle at how easy this is. 

But you also know Steve’s type, you have to make them chase you a little bit, give them a little thrill, before you finally give in. And you had already been doing that, for the longest time.

Always teasing him, but never giving in. Your hands always brushed past his bicep just enough to let him know you were interested, eyelashes always fluttered at him, teeth biting on your bottom lip as you checked him out. 

The little game had been fun, but you never plucked up the courage to fully give in to him, Billy would’ve lost his shit. Besides, you knew his type, and you didn’t want to be one of his other trophies. And you didn’t have to be, you just had to use him to get yourself off, and piss Billy off. The second you walked into a room with him, you knew the party would be buzzing with the gossip.

You had the perfect excuse, the perfect excuse to finally divulge your fantasies, all the cheerleaders always blabbered about him, calling him an ass, but an ass who knew how to properly use his fingers and that dangerous mouth.

Exactly what you fucking need.

You had been pent up enough for the months you were with Billy.

This would be a little reward. 

“All alone?” He was smug, he absolutely knew about the break-up and possibly saw Tina and Billy’s show, so he knew this was the perfect opportunity to have you in his palm. In a fucked up way, that made you want him more, the unspoken game grew more intense with that gaze of his, he had the same idea you did. The fucker was smooth. 

You nod curtly, not wanting to just fall into his lap. No matter how good he looked in those Levi’s jeans that cupped his ass perfectly. Why was he so fucking interesting to you? Arms all toned, face adorned with tiny moles, he almost seemed mystical. 

And oh god, his hair. That soft, perfectly layered chestnut brown locks, so effortlessly cool that you just wanted to run your hair through it, tugging at it the more his lips sucked on your clit.

God, the thought had your thighs pressing together uncomfortably. 

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be all alone at a party,” he pouted mockingly. “Where’s that boy toy of yours?” He tutted, hand dangerously planted on your back, ghosting over your hips. 

That elicited a giggle out of you, “Didn’t you hear all the rumors, pretty boy?” You leaned further, hand extending to offer him a huff. His attention was somewhere else though, eyes widening the more he admired you in that dress, showing off your curves in all the right way, tits almost busting out of your chest.

God, he had been waiting for this moment, an opportunity to have you, the second he fucking met you. But Billy got to you first.  

“We broke up.” That brought his attention back to you, a smirk played on his lips when he leaned into your hand, lips wrapping around the tip of the joint, he sucked on it but his dark amber eyes remained on you. 

With an inhale, “Good.” He mumbled, “knew that dipshit couldn’t handle someone like you.” 

“You need someone better take care of you…” he hummed, nose dipping closer to your features, “someone who knows how to handle all of this.” His hands were placed on your waist, traveling all over your body. 

Your breath was quick to get caught in your throat, a whine leaving your lips with how forward he was being.

And shit, you understood the appeal, you always did, but this time, you were sure your hunger for him grew faster than you intended to. You were in his palm, and you were more than okay with it. 

“Yeah?” You teased with a giggle, head falling on his shoulder, brain getting fuzzier. 

“I can make you forget him.” He’s bold, and it has your thighs rubbing together.

“By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember his name, or how to walk.” He’s so close to your ear, breath fanning against your breath as you almost shudder, but you play it off.

“You’re all talk, Harrington.” You licked your glossy lips, head slightly tilted to the side, teasing him just enough. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I know you’ve heard the rumors, and I know you want this as much as you do.” The cocky bastard licks his lips, and you want nothing more than to bite them.

“Oh, yeah?”

“The way you press your thighs together, that little whine you just did when I barely touched you… Tells me all I need to fuckin’ know.” He whispers, and you almost whine out when a sloppy kiss is planted on your neck, harsh and needy. 

“You’ll be screamin’ and beggin’ for me, angel.”

Your brows raise in interest. “That a promise?”

“Uh-huh.” He gives you a boyish grin.

“You’re on, King Steve.” 

It didn’t take the two of you long enough to find an empty bedroom, lips, and teeth clashing as soon as the door closed.

The wandering eyes of the party had followed you up until that point, so you knew as soon as the two of you left the room with your sexed-up looks, everyone would know.

And you would finally have a sweet release after months of Billy’s selfishness.

A win-win. 

You let his curious hands wander around your body, quick to almost rip off your dress, he wants to savor this moment, wants the image of your body engraved in his mind, stuck into the back of it just so he can fish it out whenever he can.

But he’s impatient, he’s waited for this. Wanted you longer than ever, and finally, you’re putty at his hands, ready to take whatever he’s going to give—or at least that’s what he thinks— And he’s feeling greedy. His mouth is pressed onto yours, sucking on your tongue before he lowers you down on the bed, you giggle softly when you sink into it, and Steve has never felt like this before, the hunger in his eyes ignites a spark of pleasure within you, quick to dampen your thighs with need. 

A shocked gasp escapes your lips once he unhooks your bra with his left hand. Oh, he’s good. “Pretty baby,” he murmurs before his mouth is latched onto your nipples. “Perfect fuckin’ tits,” He groans into your chest, hand toying with your lace panties, shaky breaths escape his lips as he earns more whines from you. 

You look ethereal, with your mouth hung open, teeth biting on your glossed-up lips, head thrown back. Just like he knew you’d be. 

The more he circles around your panties the more you feel that pent-up desire burning inside of you, all those orgasmless months with Billy, and Steve was going to elicit more with just a flick of his fingers than you ever had through the entire relationship. 

Maybe that’s why he always called you a bitch. 

“Steve,” your whines come out pathetically as he looks up at you, layered hair already disheveled and that goddamn smirk sitting on his pretty lips. 

“Already beggin’, honey?” He mocks with a grin, tugging on your nipple, all teeth and no mercy. His tongue is making its way further down, soft, wet strokes tickle your body. 

“Fuck off,” You spit at him, barely, words dying down your throat when he’s quick to rip away your lacy panties. His light honey eyes are so much darker now, head thrown back when he visually drinks in your glistening pussy.  

You look so fucking perfect, thighs spread apart, him between them, mouth hung open and ready to take all of him. He makes a mental image of it, burning it to the back of his mind. 

“C’mon sweetheart, let King Steve know what you want, what you really need.” His voice is smooth and coarse, fingertips circling around your clit harder the more you whine for him.

“Do you need my fingers, baby? My mouth?” You moan at that, audibly. It has him chuckling darkly once he realizes how depraved you really are, one touch from him and you’re already soaking his fingers, whining like a pretty little slut. 

If he knew how much you’d be such a good girl for him, he would’ve done this much sooner. Would’ve ruined your pretty little pussy for anyone else, Billy would’ve had no chance over him. 

“Has that asshole not been makin’ you cum?” It was more of a rhetorical question, but the way you shook your head with a pout, had him melting. He really had you and didn’t know how to take good care of you? What a fucking loser.

“Holy fuckin’ shit… not even with his mouth?” His eyes widened, he really didn’t think Billy would be that bad, everything was working to his advantage. 

“He- uh- he never…” You stammered, getting uncharacteristically embarrassed because it was, truly embarrassing. All those months with him, and half the time you faked it. Selfish prick.

“Never? Oh, baby…” He coos with a dangerous smirk, lip all pouty and mocking, “No wonder you were so desperate for me. You really needed this, huh?” He almost gave a chuckle, caressing your pussy with his middle finger, getting you all ready. 

“Jerk-” You want to curse out his cockiness, tell him you don’t need him. Keep him grounded, but the whines he’s pulling out of you are enough to make him grin like a Cheshire cat. 

Your breath gets shakier when his finger easies into your walls. “Sshh, relax, baby.” He coos. 

“I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good, doll.” His fingers are slickly working their way in and out of you, filthy sounds mingling with your moans as his nose brushes over your clit, causing your hips to start rocking up to him. 

“Had this pretty little thing, and didn’t even know how to take care of it, hmm? What a waste,” He hummed sweetly, index finger thrusting in and out of your sloppy walls.

“If I had known you’d be this fuckin’ soaked, I would’ve done this much sooner,” he taunts, fingers curling inside of you, enjoying the way you gasp out and buck your hips for more. 

He dives in, pressing the flat of his tongue against your swollen lips, enjoying, fully tasting you. With a satisfied hum, he brings his eyes to meet yours, all fucked out, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, had this sweet pussy but never even tasted it… What a fuckin’ dumbass… I’ll give you what you deserve, baby…” 

He’s going to explode soon, if he doesn’t make you cum and then fuck you senseless. He can feel his balls draw up more and more, each time you whine, each time you plead for his name as a whisper. 

He flicks the tip meticulously, giving you attention everywhere and anywhere, just like he knew you’d like it. “You know, I usually would never do this on a first date,” He mocks, grinning all mouthy and you attempt to dive his mouth further into you, to shut his arrogant ass up, and that fucker resists, “But god, you’re an exception… just begging to be fucked, you deserve this honey, can’t be selfish with you.”

His licks are heavenly, sucking on your clit like a man possessed, and his name falls from your lips in such a filthy way that you don’t even care how pathetic you look anymore. You accept it, you let him take full control, trashing beneath him. 

“You like that, angel?” His words are muffled into your cunt, the pad of his thumb still circling around your entrance while he sucks on your clit. Your head sinks further into the softness of the bed, eyes squeezed shut, breaking apart with just his tongue. He moans into your soppy walls, sending a shock wave of pleasure to ripple through you. 

He doesn’t even need your words, the visual of you squirming underneath him is enough to have him all bricked up, you taste like the sweetest sin. Velvety walls so tight that it has him bucking his hips into the bed, desperate for some friction, he needs you. And he’s sure he never wanted someone this badly before. 

“So fuckin’ special, aren’t you? Such a desperate baby…” You can feel his bulge against your thigh, sitting prettily and throbbing against his boxers. You always heard how big he was, but fuck, you finally get to feel it, and it’s glorious. 

And he twitched in his boxers just from eating you out? God, he was fucking perfect.  

He dips his head just enough to muffle out a few more words, “I wanna taste you fully, angel. Want you to soak my tongue.” He dives in before you can reply, eliciting dirtier moans from you, alternating between his fingers and his tongue. 

He doesn’t care about anything else but you, he wants you panting for him, cumming all over his tongue while you scream his name. 

Your thighs start to shake once he pushes two fingers inside of you, gentle but rough enough to have you squirming and bucking your hips more into him, you’re at his mercy, and he loves how tight you are. Just the thought of your tight cunt milking his cock dry has his eyes rolling. 

“S-steve,” you breathe out roughly, enjoying how his tongue is licking up that sweet spot. “I know baby,” he taunts all cockily, admiring the way your thighs shake with need. You’re going to cum soon and that prick can feel it. 

“N-need to cum, please,” your pleading is unintentional, you just need a desperate release, and he’s so fucking good. 

“Cum for me, angel, be a good girl for me, yeah?” Your eyes squeeze shut at the praise, and he takes note of that, admiring the way you tighten around his tongue and fingers at the praise. 

His fingers are quick, making you scream out his name louder and louder. “That’s it pretty girl… cum for me.” Arrogant fuck, you wish to say, but the way he laps up your juices has you whining like a little slut. And his smirk grows wider, a wet patch forming on his boxers with how hard he’s straining them, pathetically needing to be inside of you. 

You tremble, trash, squirm beneath him, his touches and stripes of licks finally enough to have your stomach twisting, with final screams of “Steve!” and “F-fuck!” the coil inside of you snaps, orgasm overtaking you with such force that your eyes are glued shut.

A gush of sweetness trickles along Steve’s tastebuds, you taste so fucking good that it drives him even crazier, lapping up at your juices and not stopping until he’s sure you’ve collapsed under him. 

He’s grinning like crazy, lips all glossy with your juices, and he looks so fucking pretty like this. It makes you want to return the favor. 

So badly. And the need to know if the title Big Daddy Steve really suits him or not stirs your stomach, your core pooling with need. If it’s true, your mouth waters with the desire to have him, he looks delicious, and you know he’ll look much more yummy while he’s fucking your mouth, pretty praises leaving his pale rosy lips. 

The avoidant part of you screams at you to not do this, but your core is begging for more. 

Maybe, just maybe, you could return the favor but still toy with him, take control, and mess with his mind. 

Enough to have him begging, pleading for more from you. 

As if he can hear your dilemma, he drags you back in, wrapping his fist around your hair as he pulls you toward him and draws your bottom lip into his mouth, all teeth, sucking with an exaggerated hum, “Do you like the way you taste on my tongue?” He mutters against your ear, licking a stripe of your neck. 

Jesus, fuck. Now, you had to return the favor. 

“Tastes so sweet,” you giggle, you are going to suck him off, but you are going to lead the way now. A smirk gleams on your lips. Teasingly, your hands trace the edge of his boxers, enough to earn a rude whine from him as you squeeze him through the harsh fabric. 

You’re quick to yank his shirt off of him without a warning, and he’s quick to flaunt his well-muscled, heaving chest. 

Asshole. 

With a strong flip, you manage to straddle him, taking him by surprise while you grin at him, and to say Steve is intrigued would be an understatement, his cock twitches at your brow raise. “What are you doing, baby?” He still manages to be so cool that your thighs ache. 

“Returning the favor,” you shrug with a smirk, eliciting low grumbles from him when you lower yourself on his chest, leaving sloppy kisses, mouth tracing a trail that leads to his delicious v-line. 

You lift the elastic away from his waist, freeing his throbbing tip, the red tip slaps against his abdomen, and your brows pinch together in astonishment admiring it. 

Jesus fucking Christ, he was not all talk. 

King Steve, indeed.

You had to hand it down to those gossipy cheerleaders, they had described him to a t, perfect girth, slightly bent to the left, and big, really fucking big, you probably needed to use your hands along with your glossed lips to take all of him in. 

He chuckled at your expression, basking in the glory of your widened eyes, “Like what you see, angel?” Another taunt, but you ignore it with a smirk this time. Pooling saliva in your mouth, you spit on the angry tip, Steve hisses at the impact and watches with a low grumble once you wrap your palm around his shaft. 

He reveled in how perfectly your soft manicured fingers looked around his delicate bubblegum pink tip, attending to his every need.

Your warm fingers are working their way around his cock, coating his length with your spit as you tugged at it gently, causing his eyes to nearly roll back in his head.

He tries his best to swallow his groans, but his hips desperately jerk up at your hand, desperately fucking it, rendering you speechless.

“You like that, baby?” Your tone was teasing, and if he didn’t feel like he was about to explode he would’ve gripped your hair and fucked your mouth with such roughness that all that you would be thinking about would be his huge cock, punishing you for being such a tease, but he was the one wrapped around your finger now, literally.  

“S’big, Stevie,” you coyly batted your lashes at him, and a shuddered breath left your parted lips as you looked up at him between his thighs. 

He almost wept at the sight, shit shit shit, you were all of his dreams wrapped into one, and he could barely speak. Your palm easily glided down his length, saliva working as a lubricant as you teased him further. 

Your other palm was quick to cup his balls, massaging them and giving them a gentle tug, while your other hand still glided down his length, enjoying the way he struggled not to let out loud groans in your hold.

Without any other word, your head tilted down, quick to mouth the tip of his intense tip, it was almost hot to touch, waiting to be attended to, so needy. Just like him.

You swipe his tip, collecting his pearl of pre-cum gently. “Jesus f-fuck!” Pathetic coarse whines leave his parted lips, he lets you take control, eyes clenched tightly. 

You give his tip more kitten licks, trying to get your throat ready for his lengthy cock. “Just like that, honey,” He praises with his head thrown back, he avoids looking into your eyes, knowing that the fucked out look on your face as your pouty lips wrapped around his cock would be enough to have him spill down your throat in seconds.

And it would be a bit embarrassing for Steve, to lose his reputation to you in a matter of seconds.

“More…” He demands, but you ignore it while you continue your teasing sweet flicks on his tip, feeling him twitch around your tongue.  “Pretty girl,” He whines and jolts his pelvis for more, desperate and needy. Just where you want him.

“Mhmm?” You whine with your mouth full, it sends a rush of pleasure through him, “Suck it, baby,” he whines again, this time pained with need. Your greedy eyes smile up at him and he’s sure you have done something to him.

Because he never wanted to cum this bad before. He wants to wipe that smirk off your face while you gag on his cum, struggling to swallow all of it as it spills down your cheeks, glistening your breasts, ruining that gloss forever, and instead, you walk around with his semen all over your face and lips.

It pulls a twisted groan out of him, you make him feel so perverted and he can’t fucking help himself. You finally accept his pleas, and with one glorious tug, you finally wrap your lips around his cock, fully, getting teary-eyed each time you try to take more of his flesh.

Steve can’t help himself, his head is dipped down, and he immediately feels his balls ache at the visual of you, crystal tears staining your cheeks, and even then, that lewd look did not leave your eyes.

“F-fucking slut, just like that,” His groans are uncontrollable, hips bucking further into your mouth. You don’t let him yank you by your hair, just yet. You let your mouth adjust to him, sucking him deep and tight. 

“Such a good girl, suckin’ my cock with all she has, mmpf.” His praise has your core clenching, damn him. 

He admires your pouty lips fully wrapped around his flesh, sucking and hollowing your cheeks as you wail for him, “Shit, shit, baby, l-look so pretty with my cock down your throat, mmhmm…” He coos, words incoherent.

“Will look even prettier with my cum shooting down that throat, isn’t that right, angel?” You hummed in agreement, looking up at him with your dark, hooded gaze, an unintentional grin playing on your lips.

He mumbled a string of curses, praising you, worshipping you. You continued your stroke on his base harshly, working the head with your tongue, a new angle that had him go absolutely insane. 

“Mmmhmm, need your cum, Stevie.” You mumbled, momentarily letting your hand do all the work before you dove back in, taking his stiff cock deep in your throat, he had been struggling before, but your words were his last straw.

Because it was exactly what he fucking wanted, owning your mouth, and fucking it with ease. 

His palm turned into a fist the second he held your hair, yanking it down as he pushed you further down on his cock, enjoying the way it hit the back of your throat, you gagged around it, all teary and Steve’s head fell back in pure ecstasy. “Y-yes, yes, fuck!” 

“Gonna cum, baby, mmmpf, god-” He panted, his cock twitching more and more you sucked on him.

“Gonna fuckin’ s-shit-” He shuddered, thighs shaking while your throat continued to squeeze the tip of his cock, and once you gave his balls some more attention, he knew he was a goner. 

“Fuckin’ give i-it to you,” He barely let out when his eyes glued shut together, almost rolling to the back of his head when you gagged around his cock, with a glorious groan of “Fuuuuuck!” Steve came in your mouth, hips still bucking into your throat as a spurt of his warm load spilled down your throat, coating it nicely. 

You only let go of his softened cock with a ‘pop!’ sound once you made sure you sucked him dry, swallowing all of it while Steve watched you with such a dazzled look that it almost made you want to do more with him. But, no. This had been enough.

You enjoyed his salty taste in your mouth and the way his fingers and mouth worked inside of you. And that was enough for you. For now.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He grumbled a chuckle that had you grinning and winking at him. God, men really were easy. One blowjob and Steve was already looking at you like you were the most precious thing in his life. 

You had to go easy on him, tell him that you weren’t going to let him fuck you.

Because you got what you wanted, an orgasm, and the reputation of fucking “King Steve”, everyone would be gossiping about the two of you by now, it was a matter of time before that douchebag found out.

He tried to pull you in for a kiss, but you were quick to dodge it, getting up from the softness of the bed with a groan while Steve curiously eyed you. 

His brows were quick to pinch together, watching the way you easily slipped your tight dress on your body while you admired yourself in the mirror. Rubbing your lips together to fix your gloss, fingertips cleaning over the smeared mascara running down your cheeks.

“W-what are you doing?” He inquired, his face quick to fall down. 

You shrugged nonchalantly, “I want to go dance,” brows then raised in excitement “Ooohh! Maybe I could get some more weed, have you seen Munson around?” You questioned, that lustful look still dancing in your eyes.

“Uhhh…” he stammered, still confused on what the fuck just happened. “Y-yeah I think-”

“Thank fuckin’ god!” You hummed with a giggle, rushing over to his side, sloppily planting a kiss on his cheek, all shiny and smeared with his juices.

You were halfway through the door when Steve’s protests stopped you. “Wait, wait, wait!” He straightened up, softened cock and all, his glistening chest was begging to be touched, but as you decided, not today.

“What the fuck? I thought-”

“What?” You asked cluelessly, brows raised. 

“We were just getting started, angel,” He tried, but his voice wasn’t as arrogant or confident as it was before, and it took you so much to not let your lips twitch into a smirk. 

One orgasm and he was already broken? Steve was fun to play with it.  

Your giggle at him would’ve felt mocking if you didn’t do it so prettily, Steve just watched in awe. 

The poor boy. 

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, would you?” You tilted your head with a pout. Oh, you were good, he had to give you that.

Because once he literally got a taste of you, he wasn’t going to stop. 

His lips kissed his teeth, it was surely hypocritical of him to think this was unfair since that’s what he always did to other girls. 

“But–”

“See you around, pretty boy,” you cooed, throwing a wink toward his way, and shutting the door with that. Leaving Steve all alone. 

He had never felt this way before. The way his cock twitched just the thought of you again had his mind flooding, you used him, gave him the best fucking head of his life, and then left. 

Maybe this game would’ve pissed him off if someone else did it to him, if it was any other girl he would’ve lost interest, thinking she was trying too fucking hard, but it was you.

And all it did was drive Steve crazier, and make the chase all the more fun, and Steve was nothing, if not persuasive. 

[lovebugism]

can i request angst☹️☹️shy!reader barely ever talking and being soo hyperaware of everything and steve slowly breaks her out of her shell? then she overhears him saying she talks too much and she just feels bad and reverts into herself

Angst w happy endingn if possible please ily!!🫶🏼

ty for requesting!! — steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)

Your smile is wide and unknowing. Steve thinks there’s something extra special about it because you don’t even realize it’s there. “—And since Eddie was working the register, he let me take one of the new tapes for free. You know, to try it or whatever, and he was all like, ‘flattery works with me,’ and I was like, Steve would keel over if he was here right now.”

A giggle spills from your mouth when your rambling ceases, lips curling and eyes crinkling.

Steve blinks at you with his own absentminded beam, too busy thinking about how pretty you are to react properly to your story. 

Your smile sobers slightly. “What?”

“Nothing,” he assures with the shake of his neatly styled head, rogue strands of chestnut hair draping his forehead. He shrugs and leans his elbows over the Family Video counter you stand across. “You’re just… You’re talking a lot. ’S nice.”

Your face heats. Your chest burns with a similar fire. Your eyes widen ‘cause you didn’t realize that you hadn’t shut up until now. “Oh… Sorry—”

“No, it’s good!” he tells you, laughing. “It’s a compliment.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah! I mean, I used to have to bribe you to get you to talk about your day. Remember that?”

Benny’s Burgers was your very best friend at the start of your relationship. Steve would always buy your dinner — not in exchange for you to talk exactly, but in the hopes that the additional time spent with you would help you open up. It did. Most of the time, anyway.

Your nose scrunches. “I thought you took me out because you liked me?”

“I took you out ‘cause I liked you and because the sugar rush from the milkshakes made you talk more.”

You nod once. “Right.”

The conversation ebbs. The store gets eerily silent without your voices to fill it. Steve, undeterred by the lapse in dialogue, flashes you a lopsided smile. “Wanna show me the tapes you bought?”

“Yeah,” you murmur and push off the counter. 

Steve watches you over his shoulder while you saunter down the hallway where your bag is kept. The breakroom door squeals open and shut again. A voice sounds suddenly from beside him. “Nice job, dingus,” Robin chides, gritty and montoned.

His head snaps to the other side, brows twisted with confusion. “What?”

“You hurt her feelings,” she answers like it’s obvious, dropping a stack of VHS tapes on the counter with a heavy thud.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You said she was talking a lot.”

“I said that I liked it!”

Robin rolls her ocean-blue eyes, huffing ‘cause he’s too oblivious to get the point. “Yeah, but if I said, Wow, you have a ton of gel in your hair— but it’s styled really nice today, it’d give you a whole complex. Wouldn’t it?”

The make-believe compliment is dreadfully backhanded. Steve’s face floods with a gentle horror, the realization of a fallacy he hadn’t realized he’d made. “Shit…”

“Exactly,” Robin deadpans. “Now go take care of your girlfriend, dingus.”

He finds you in the breakroom, idling in place. You’ve got the cassettes in your hands, and you fidget with them between anxious fingers — like you were planning to come out sometime, but not quite yet. 

You tense when the door creaks open, relaxing again when Steve enters.

“Whatcha doing?” he wonders with a crooked, pink smile.

“Getting the tapes,” you answer in a mousy voice, waving the pieces of plastic in your hand.

The door clicks shut behind him. He inches towards you, fond and terribly soft with it. “I missed you,” he confesses in a faint murmur. His wide palms settle on your sides. You warm instantly under his touch.

“I was gone for two seconds,” you respond with a quiet laugh.

“Yeah. And I felt like I was dying.”

You meet his pout with a small smile, blinking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I just love being around you, alright? Sue me,” he argues, squeezing softly at your hips. With a quieter smile, he confesses, “And when I said you were talking a lot— I didn’t mean anything by it, you know?”

You’d disappeared back here because you thought it was something silly to be so upset over. He’d told you it was a compliment, but it didn’t really feel like one. Your brain refused to be anything other than hurt by his well-intentioned remarks. The ache in your chest became unignorable, and you shrunk inside yourself accordingly.

“I know,” you murmur.

“I love hearing you talk,” he tells you, shy smirk widening to a lopsided beam. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, actually.”

Your lips purse to the side. Your anxious hands fidget with the plastic cassettes in your palms, aching to hold him. It takes you a moment or more to find the courage to speak. “I’m just… I’m normally super aware of… when I’m talking too much, you know? I was just… Excited, I guess.”

“You were. And it was really fuckin’ cute.” A laugh sputters from his lips. He wears all the love he has for you in the deep honey of his eyes, rich and swimming with warmth. “I love seeing you happy.”

“Well, you make me happy…” you whisper, gaze averted. “So, it fits…”

“Yeah, it does,” he murmurs in response, ducking down to kiss you. It’s chaste and terribly fleeting — lips locking together one moment and then smacking in protest when they separate the next. 

It takes your eyes a second too long to flutter open again after he’s pulled back from you. You find Steve already grinning as he nods to the tapes in your hands. “Wanna pop those into the radio? So we can listen to ‘em while I work?”

Your brows pinch with a distant worry. “Won’t Keith get mad?” 

“Probably,” Steve answers with an uncaring shrug. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright? I’ll take care of you.”

You melt.

[lesservillain]

alpha!steddie x omega!reader Part One. summary: after finding yourself in a pinch, an ad in the local paper for a paid surrogacy gig catches your attention. free food, housing, and all doctor visits covered, and all you have to do is pop a baby out for a a hot alpha couple? what could go wrong! cw: OMEGAVERSE. established steddie. smut, angst, m/m/f, anal (m receiving), daisy chain, free use kink, breeding kink, lots of unprotected piv, surrogacy, strangers to lovers, alpha x alpha relationships are considered taboo wc: 10.6k

A heavy ball of nerves filled your gut as you sat in the busy coffee shop. You sipped on your drink, eyes darting to the door every time it opened as you waited for them to show up. Them being the alpha couple that you contacted the day before. 

Looking for a way to make some money in this small town that you’d decided to settle in, an ad in the classifieds caught your attention. 

Wanted: Omega Surrogate for Male Alpha Couple.

It wasn’t something you’d expected to see in the Sunday paper. Hawkins came off as a more conservative town, and it was pretty common practice for people to look at male alpha and same sex beta couples a certain way. 

Of all the combinations of couples in this world, most of them could produce children except for two male alphas and same sex betas which made the coupling quite the taboo. It was pretty well known that most adoptive agencies and surrogacy clinics wouldn’t assist those kinds of couples, so an ad like that isn’t uncommon, just not something you would have bet money on finding.

The ad itself seemed very enticing. The couple lived in an allegedly nice neighborhood called Loch Nora, according to the barista you’d asked. It made sense considering the couple said they would pay for all your needs like food and doctors appointments. 

You were currently living in a motel while you searched for a place to live here. And the more time you spend searching, the more money you spend on food, the less you have to put down for a deposit. So the offer to have your food paid for for the next 9 months was something you weren’t about to pass up.

The bell on the coffee shop door rang again. Your eyes flicked to see two men walk in. They were both clearly alphas; tall, handsome, and their mixed scents were strong enough to reach your nose even over the strong coffee smell. They were quite the opposite of each other; the one looking like he belonged on a stage performing for a metal concert, and the other looked like he just came from a business casual style modeling gig. 

Their eyes began to scan the shop and it hit you that this might be the alpha couple that’s meeting you. Butterflied erupted in your stomach at the thought of the two of them together. The omegas in this town must have all collectively cried when these two got together.

The rock star guy’s eyes caught yours first. You gave him a small wave and he perked up and returned the gesture excitedly. He bumped the model guy and pointed you out to him, saying something in his ear before the two of them made their way to you. As they got closer, the knot in your stomach got tighter. How they hell were these guys so attractive?

The model guy approached you first, saying your name like a question, as if to confirm you’re who he talked to on the phone.

“Yep, that’s me,” you say as you stand to greet them. “You must be Steve. Your voice sounds familiar.” The model guy nods, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

“Yes, I’m Steve. And this is Eddie, my partner.” Eddie takes a step forward and extends his hand to you. You take it to shake, but as soon as your hand touches his, a shock of electricity shoots up your arm and all over your body. It was a feeling you’d never had before, and it made you pull away from him. You wondered if he felt it too by the way he looked at his hand and then to you.

“Everything okay?” Steve says, extending his hand out to you as well. 

“Y-yeah, it’s fine,” Eddie says, wringing his wrist in his other hand. You nod, not sure what to say as you grab Steve’s hand to shake. But the same thing happens when you touch him as well.

“Woah,” Steve says with a laugh, pulling his hand away. “There must be a lot of static in here or something.”

“Must be,” you say as you shake your head, sitting back down in your booth seat. 

The two men slide into the seats opposite of you, shoulder to shoulder like any other couple would. Steve opens the flap of his blazer, pulling out a stack of papers from it’s inner pocket and laying it on the table, attempting to flatten it with his…vary large hands.

“Okay, so,” Steve starts, running a hand through his hair. He takes a breath and looks to Eddie and then to you. Eddie’s fingers lace together on the table as his thumbs fidget nervously, is attention staying on the papers.

“This is kind of the guidelines we’ve come up with for what we’ve planned out.” Steve slides the paperwork across the table to you. “Like we said on the phone yesterday, we can negotiate some things to work better for you if you decide to go through with this. Just let us know what we might need to change and we can have our lawyer rewrite it.”

At that last sentence, you realized this was a contract. It made sense that they would want one. What if you had decided to keep the baby and run away? Not that you would. Your life was too much a mess right now to take care of a kid on your own. And you were relieved when you read that they wouldn’t abandon you with the child either.

When you went to flip the page, you could see Eddie physically shift from over the papers edge. There was a pink tint to his cheeks, his eyes downcast with…embarrassment?

“Um,” Steve clears his throat, “This next page…” He hesitates, mouth opening and closing like he can’t quite figure out what he wants to say. “We, uh, we asked for an omega specifically for a reason.”

Your eyes caught the title for the next section of the contract: 

Terms of Conception. 

“Terms?” You say as you begin to read on. Honestly, when they’d confirmed that they would pay for all of your doctors appointments, you’d just assumed that included the insemination appointments. They were a couple after all, one that had been together for more than 5 years now, so you’d figured there wouldn’t be any...intrusion on your part.

But that became abundantly clear that was not what they had in mind.

“We just figured it would be easier and less invasive on your end if we did things more naturally.” Steve’s tone was slightly distressed, worried that their proposal would run you off once you fully understood their terms.

‘The surrogate party agrees to stop all forms of suppressants and birth prevention measures. Heat cycles will be tracked and monitored by all parties for peak conception. Intercourse will be performed by all parties during the following days leading up to and during the peak fertility window. Due to the schedules of the donating party, said party requests that the surrogate party legally, physically, and emotionally consents to make themselves available at all times to the donating party. This includes at all hours of the day and night, as needed.’

“The consent part is really important to us, too.” Steve adds, pointing to the papers in your hands. “Obviously we want you to feel comfortable enough to tell us no, but sometimes with our jobs we don’t work set hours.” Eddie moves for the first time since you turned the page, nodding quickly in agreement to Steve’s words.

“I get it…” you say, pretending to keep reading even though you’re mind is reeling. “It’s like…free game, right?” You laugh nervously, and the two men both shift very differently where they sit. Eddie’s eyebrows go up, leaning into the table with interest in your phrasing, while Steve seems to tense up a bit, his ears turning red.

“That’s a good way to put it,” Eddie says with a nod, “We just want to make sure you’re willing to work with us. We—” Eddie looks to Steve with a smile, “We’ve been talking about this for at least a year now, and we’re really ready to take this next step.”

The way the two men look at each other in front of you makes you melt from how lovey they are. It becomes abundantly clear that, to them, this is just an obligatory step to expand their family. A means to an end for a couple that wouldn’t be able to get help any other way. 

“Oh!” Steve says as if he suddenly remembered something, “This isn’t in the contract yet, but Eddie and I were talking last night when you said you were still looking for a place to live. Well, we live in a fairly big house and we think that for the sake of…convenience, for lack of a better word, that we would like you to stay with us during this whole process. It would give you plenty of time to get a feel of the town, find a place to live.”

You looked at the two men with surprise. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about asking to live with them, but you didn’t think that they would be the one offering. And all of Steve’s points made sense to you so it didn’t take long to mull it over in your mind. 

“Well, I mean, as long as this isn’t some elaborate plan to murder me, then I don’t see why not.” 

Steve and Eddie visibly relax, both of them laughing at your joke.

“Nah, we wouldn’t put this much effort just to kill anyone,” Eddie says with a playful jab at Steve, who shakes his head at Eddie’s antics.

“So, does that mean you’re okay with our terms? We totally understand if it’s not something you are comfortably with, and we can give you a couple of days to think about it if you need to—”

Free food, free housing, free healthcare, and all you have to do is let these two hot guys cum in you until you give them a baby?

“I’ll do it.”

It’s been two weeks since you’d moved in with Steve and Eddie. They took you to your hotel and gathered the little belongings you had and moved you in that same night into their spare bedroom on the second floor. It was directly across the hall from their bedroom, which made sense to you considering the nature of your arraignment. Why shove you all the way on the other side of the house if they were going to need easy access to you during your heat cycles?

After a bit of discussion, they told you that they didn’t want you to worry about getting a job right away. Something about it being too stressful while trying to get you pregnant? You didn’t argue, instead putting your focus on keeping the house put together for them. 

They weren’t exaggerating when they said their hours were a bit all over the place work wise. Eddie recently took over ownership of the local body shop and Steve was a regional manager for Family Video after working his way up in the company. With both of them having so much responsibility, a normal person would wonder how the two of them would ever find time to be with each other.

If someone were to ask you, though, you’d tell them that you are very much aware of how often they spend time together. And that answer would be almost every night.

It was baffling how after both of them working sometimes 10 hour shifts, the both of them still had enough energy to fuck each other almost every night. Loudly, you might add. You’re not sure if they think you can’t hear them or if they’re just so used to living alone that they didn’t think about you being there while they bash their headboard into the wall for hours.

You had mixed feelings about it. Part of you wan annoyed, because it was honestly hard to sleep some nights at first. Part of you was jealous because you hadn’t gotten any since you’d broken up with your ex, and part of your contract included you not having any other partners until after conception. And because of that, part of you was frustrated.

Sure, you were contractually obligated to have sex with them, but it was ultimately on their terms. They were still a couple, and you were just there to fulfill a service. You doubted that even when the time does come that there will be much intimacy between you and the two of them. 

You can take care of yourself, and there have been a couple nights where their sounds have helped you get yourself off fairly quickly. But you were getting to a point where you wish you had a toy or something to make things a little easier. You still had a little money that you didn’t spend before moving in. Maybe on a day they were both gone you could call a cab and see if this town has a sleazy sex shop that no one talks about.

“Good morning,” Eddie yawns, entering the kitchen. He was shirtless per usual, the loose plaid pajama pants slipping dangerously low on his hips as he stretched. 

“Morning,” Steve greeted, eyes still on some paperwork that he was looking over from work.

“Good afternoon, Eddie,” you say with knowing smile, placing a plate in front of him where he sat next to Steve at the island.

“Shit, is it afternoon already?” Steve looked up, his glasses sitting at the end of his nose as he squinted to see the time on the stove.

“Must be Sunday,” Eddie says with a mouth full of sandwich. “It’s feels like it’s been forever since I’ve gotten to sleep in.”

“You slept in last Sunday, babe,” Steve says with a pointed look.

“Maybe I’ll go back to sleep if you’re gonna have that attitude.”

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes at his husband. Eddie laughs and plants a kiss on Steve’s cheek.

“Do you guys have any plans today?” You ask, cleaning up the mess from lunch. The two look at each other.

“No.”

“Nope, not today.”

“Oh, maybe you two could go on a date?”

Steve looked at Eddie excitedly, who gave him a toothy grin in return.

“That's not a bad idea,” Eddie says. “Been a while since we’ve gone out together.”

The two of them iron out the details of their spontaneous date. From the sounds of it, they’d probably be gone most of the afternoon and possibly into the night. It was a perfect opportunity to make a trip into town for your own plans.

Once the coast was clear, you took the opportunity to look through the phone book to see if any kind of shop was listed. You found a taxi company first, dog earring the page to go back to as you kept on with your search. 

As you sat there, you didn’t quite catch the way the temperature in your body started to rise. You pulled on the collar of your shirt to fan yourself as you turned the pages, which slowly became less and less clear to you as your vision began to go fuzzy. The mixed smells that you’d gotten used to all the sudden became very potent, filling your brain with the scent of alpha musk.

Before you even realized it, you were on your feet and up the stairs. Opening the door to the room across the hall from yours, you immediately find the hampers full of Steve’s and Eddie’s clothes that they kept in there. You thanked yourself for forgetting to start the laundry this morning as you dumped all the clothes onto the floor of their walk in closet. 

It was heavenly to be in there surrounded by all of their clothes, towels, and other materials that you found to be suffice for your nest. At some point you’d taken off your own clothes and replaced them with one of the boy’s shirts and another’s pair of sweats. You curled into yourself, surrounded by their scent as you slowly felt yourself drifting off to sleep.

You had no idea how long you laid there for. All you could focus on was the safe feeling of your nest and the throbbing between your legs that gradually became more prominent as time passed. It felt natural for you to want to call for your ex, even when you were surrounded by other alphas scents. Your body was just desperate for any relief.

“Shit, there you are.”

A light fills the closet, breaking you from your trance and you call your ex’s name again.

“Shhh, no, it’s Steve.” 

You feel your body being lifted from your nest. It almost puts you in a panic until you get a full whiff of Steve’s scent up close. You rub your face against the skin of his neck, whimpering as the pain between your legs becomes more of a strobing feeling.

“Is she okay?” Eddie’s scent breaches Steve’s take over of your nose. You can feel the heat of his body next to yours as he moves in close. A hand lays across your forehead for a moment, and naturally you lean into the touch before it’s pulled away.

“She’s burning up.” Eddie’s voice sounds slightly slurred, but you can’t tell if it’s him or if your hearing is being affected by your heat.

“I thought we had a couple more days,” Steve huffs. You can almost make out the distressed look on his face with how closely he’s holding you.

“I’ll take her,” Eddie says, his hands moving around you to take you from Steve. But Steve doesn’t budge. In fact, his grip on you tightens, pulling your body closer to his chest.

“N-no,” Steve stutters. There’s an aggressive tone in his voice as he speaks, and you feel him moving you away. It’s hard to tell, but it feels like he may be crawling across the bed with you in his grasp.

“Give her to me, Steve.” Eddie’s voice is demanding, and you feel the pressure in the room change. Steve takes a deep breath in before he lays you down on the bed, the cool feeling of their sheets hitting your warm skin and giving you the chills.

Your eyes open to see Steve stripping his clothes. As your vision comes into focus, you can see the way he looks down at you hungrily with lidded eyes. His mouth hangs open as his breathing picks up, his shirt long gone as he starts on his belt.

The bed dips and you see Eddie make his way over to you and Steve. He’d gotten down to his boxers, a prominent tent where he’s straining underneath the tight material.

“Move,” Eddie growls, pushing Steve over and sliding his way between your spread legs. His eyes are dark, locked on your exposed pussy like a predator about to go in for the kill. In a swift motion he pulls his boxers down to free his cock. It makes an audible smack against his stomach, the head almost purple with how hard he was.

The sight of his alpha cock pushes your body over the edge and a wave of arousal spills from you and onto the sheets below in preparation. Eddie strokes himself, his hand rubbing up and down his length before he moves to position himself at your entrance. Even just feeling the tip against you has you bucking your hips and whining for him. Eddie’s lips curl into a smile at your desperation, nudging you again to tease you more.

Just as Eddie’s about to push himself into you, Steve lunges at him, sending Eddie almost over the side of the bed. There’s a feral look in Steve’s eye as he moves in where Eddie was between your legs. 

Even in your delirious state, your eyes go wide when you see Steve’s alpha cock nudging between your legs. Your body is built to take alpha cocks, which are normally bigger than any other second gender when it comes to size. But you were still reeling as Steve’s cock began to push inside of you, questioning how your body was going to accommodate the whole thing as he began to split you open inch by inch. 

The loud moans that came from your chest filled the room the further he pushed in. Another wave of arousal pushes through you and out to coat Steve’s cock. His body rocked slowly to let you accommodate him, fully aware of how big he really was. Steve’s head rolls back, mouth hung open in pleasure with each thrust. 

“Damn it, Steve” you hear Eddie hiss from beside you. Your head lulls to the side as the bed dips again. Eddie starts to crawl towards you and Steve and you wonder if he’s going to try and push him out of you. Instead, Eddie grabs Steve by the back of his head and crashes his lips into his. You watched as the two alpha’s kissed, their tongues moving in a dance with each other and their teeth clashing with each movement of their lips.

With Steve distracted by his husbands lips on his, he forgets that he was trying to be gentle with you and begins to really thrust. All at once he’s fully seated inside you, barely pulling back before pushing himself all the way back in over and over. It’s so much all at once, overstimulating your body to the point where you cum hard on his cock. 

Steve gasps as you squeeze him over and over, pulling away from Eddie to look at your face. Your eyes roll back into your head and the noise you let out as you cum is choked and guttural. 

“She’s pretty when she cums, isn’t she, big boy?” Eddie’s looking at you with that same predatory expression, a devilish smile on his face as he watches you cum on his husbands cock. Steve nods dumbly, barely cognizant of anything other than the feeling of your tight cunt on his cock as he continues to rock into you.

“Wow, Stevie,” Eddie teases, “I figured you would have cum by now. Her pussy that good that you don’t wanna be out of it yet?” 

Another lazy nod. Steve is panting like a dog over you now, his body slowly slumping forward as he lays himself on top of you. He’s humping into you with no rhyme or rhythm, only chasing his own pleasure as he drools onto your skin.

“Hmmm, well, maybe I need to help you speed things up a bit.” 

From over Steve’s shoulder, you see Eddie’s hand rubbing down Steve’s ass to the small of his back and back up again. You see Steve’s brows jump up before his forehead lands in the crook of your neck. 

Eddie’s eyes meet yours, and you feel your heart skip a beat. He pauses for a moment before he leans over Steve’s body, his big, ringed hand moving in front of your face. He presents his thumb to you, and places it against your tongue. Instinctively, you take the digit in your mouth and suck, twirling your tongue around it inside of your mouth. Eddie hums in satisfaction,a deep chuckle rolling in his chest before pulling his thumb from between your lips. 

“Such a good girl,” he says with a wink. You feel yourself clench around Steve from Eddie’s praise, and he lets out a sharp breath against your neck.

You watch as Eddie’s hand lands back on Steve’s ass. The thumb that had been in your mouth sinks its way inside Steve and the effect is immediate. With only a few more sharp thrusts, you immediately feel yourself being filled with Steve’s thick, hot seed. His cock throbs inside of you as his release seems to be endless. 

The pain in your core dulled with every drop of cum that coats you inside. You feel like you could pass out from exhaustion, but the sudden tightening feeling inside of you has you gasping as Steve’s knot grows inside of you.

Eddie looks at you wish confusion, not expecting your pained expression. 

“What the—Steve, did you fucking knot her?”

Steve’s eyes shoot open, looking at you with more clarity than he ever has before. And in your close proximity, you were able to really look at him. The redness that dusted his freckles cheeks, his long eyelashes that framed his beautiful hazel eyes, the little moles that decorated his skin like constellations in the sky. 

Steve Harrington was beautiful.

“Steve!” Eddie called his name again. Steve looked down between the two of you and sighed.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I—I just didn’t pull out fast enough.”

Eddie sighed, shaking his head. In your contract, the three of you had agreed not that there wouldn’t be any knotting if the other person was waiting their turn with you. 

Sometimes it takes a while for a knot to go down if the knotting alpha knows that another alpha is trying to get to his omega. It’s just a biological thing as most alpha and omega dynamic don’t include two alphas sharing an omega. The whole point of the knot is to keep the alpha’s sperm in the omega for as long as possible and to prevent another alpha from impregnating the omega.

 “You better think of Mrs.Henderson in her underwear to get that to go down faster,” Eddie says with an accusatory tone and Steve grimaces. Eddie’s comment makes you laugh, and Steve looks at you wildly.

“Don’t-don’t laugh,” he hisses through his teeth, “It makes you squeeze me and that’s not going to help my shit go down.”

“Sorry.” You look away from him. If you weren’t still inflicted by your heat, you’d probably feel something along the lines of embarrassment or guilt for your current situation. Because you want to wrap your arms around Steve’s neck and pull him in for a kiss, like the one that him and Eddie had shared. 

You wanted that with Eddie, too, though.

You hadn’t even realized that you’d fallen asleep until you felt the pressure between your legs shift. Your eyes flutter open, and you watch as Steve sits up and moves to the edge of the bed. His knot had gone down but his cock was still as hard as it was before he had pushed himself inside of you.

But your view of Steve was obstructed as Eddie took his place between your legs. He leaned over you until he was as close to you as Steve was.

“Got it in you for more, princess?” Eddie asks sweetly, his hand caressing your face. His scent washed over you and you were immediately back into that fuzzy headspace. You nod up at him eagerly, pleading to him with big, glassy eyes.

Eddie gives you a toothy grin. He gives you a peck on your nose before he leans back on his haunches.

“Can I move you around?” He asks. You nod, and he wastes no time moving you onto your stomach. He maneuvers your body so that your ass is up in the air for him and you can hear him hum at the view.

“Look at you dripping, sweet thing,” he says mesmerized. “Can’t wait to add to the mess.” The head of his cock nudges at your sopping pussy, slipping inside with little resistance as your arousal and Steve’s cum acts as a lubricant. 

Even with the stretch of Steve’s cock, Eddie still felt like he was filling you up as he pushed himself all the way inside you. Eddie stilled against you when he was fully inside. His hands grip your sides as he breathes heavily in and out behind you.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Steve says in a mocking tone. “Pussy too good?”

“Shut up,” Eddie says in a clipped tone. His body starts to move, his thrusts picking up quickly and deeply.

“Oooooooh, my god,” you moan out, gripping the bed desperately to keep yourself grounded as Eddie drills into you. 

“Fuuuuuck, that feel good, sweetheart? Mmmmm you’re so fucking tight, shit.”

“Don’t wanna hear any lip from you when you knot her, too,” Steve pants, his voice sounding closer than it did before. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder and find that Steve is kissing along Eddie’s jaw, down his neck and onto his tattooed shoulders. Steve’s big hand interlaces with Eddie’s on your sides, gripping you enough to pull your ass back and bounce is against Eddie over and over again. Eddie stills his movements and lets Steve move your body instead, his cock twitching like crazy inside of you.

“Hmm, it’s kinda like your pussy toy that you love so much.” Eddie’s breath hitches at Steve’s words. “Except it’s better because it’s the real thing, huh?”

“Ye-yeah,” Eddie stutters. His brows are pinched and jaw slack as Steve continues to use your pussy to fuck his husband. You almost miss the subtle way Steve’s body moves behind Eddie, sure that he’s rubbing his still hard cock against Eddie’s backside as he watches his husbands dick move in and out of you. 

Watching the intimate display between two lovers going on behind you while you’re body is compared to nothing but a toy sends a wave of heat through you. It only takes a few more Steve assisted thrusts before you’re coming undone on Eddie’s cock, soaking him with a mixture of yours and Steve’s cum. 

“Jesus Christ!”

Eddie pushes against Steve’s grip, knocking them away to regain control. Eddie’s body shifts, and his cold rings sting against the hot skin of your shoulders as he grabs them, pulling you back until your body is steady. The momentum of his thrusts picks up tenfold as he begins to fuck you in a feral manner. Eddie’s grunting and hissing coupled with his lack of checking on your comfort puts you fully in a haze. Words fall from your lips with no thoughts behind them.

“Please cum. Please cum. Want your cum. Want your cum so bad.”

“Holy shit.”

All at once Steve lets out a long groan and Eddie’s thrusts suddenly become sloppy. His cum begins to fill you as he still moves shakily in and out of your abused pussy. The thrusts finally stop as Eddie falls forward and crushes you under his weight, his arms wrapping around you and holding you tightly as his knot expands within you.

“Mmmmmmmm.” He hums against your shoulder as he inhales your scent.

“Don’t kill her,” Steve jokes followed by the sound of a hand smacking skin. Eddie’s body jolts, his head turning to look back at Steve.

“I’m not killing her. Am I killing you?”

“Well…” It obvious that you’re struggling a bit to breathe under Eddie’s weight. A moment passes and al the sudden your being flipped, ack against Eddie’s chest and your legs spread as they drape over Eddie’s strong thighs. 

Steve is at the end of the bed, his eyes locked on where you and Eddie are connected. His large hand stroked his cock, chest jolting with a particular roll of his fist over his cock.

“Like what you see, big boy?” Eddie chuckles next to your ear, his cheek rubbing against the side of your head. “I think this one’s spent for now. But if you need to get off, I’m still here.” 

A smile tugs on Steve’s lips.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he says, shuffling towards the two of you until he’s between you once again. You watch in awe as Steve’s hand reaches out, his gentle touch landing on Eddie’s taught balls, rubbing them a few times before descending out of sight. Eddie gasps under you, letting in a sharp breath as Steve begins to work him open just out of sight. Curse the lack of movement that being knotted puts you in. 

“If you can make her cum again, I bet it’ll be enough that I can fuck you without the lube.”

You clench around Eddie’s cock at Steve’s lewd words. Eddie barks out a laugh, “I have a feeling that won’t take much.” One hand snakes up your chest to begin fondling your breasts, while the other makes it’s way towards your sensitive clit. Eddie rocks his still hard cock inside you the best he can, his knot is so big it feels like there shouldn't be any room left inside you at all.

“Here, let me help,” Steve says, pushing Eddie’s hand to the side before he can get started on your bud. With a bit of shifting, Steve’s face was suddenly kissing the insides of your thighs, intermittently moving down to place a few pecks on Eddie’s as he worked his way inward. He inches closer and closer until he was dead center between you. 

With heavy eyes, you watched his tongue start from the bottom of Eddie’s balls, gliding upward until his thick muscle finally met with your clit. It sent a wave of heat through you again, the arousal leaking from around Eddie’s knot. But it’s not enough.

Steve’s tongue masterfully flicks and swirls around your bud, occasionally taking it between his lips to suck on harshly. Both of Eddie’s hands twist and kneed at the flesh of your tits absentmindedly, his rocking becoming automatic as he watched Steve’s ministrations.

With all the touches and movements, it didn’t take long to get you back on the edge again with a heavy pressure building inside you. Your body began to shake as you were about to plummet over the edge, knuckles white as you gripped Eddie’s arms as if you’d float away if you let go.

 The sudden twitch of Eddie’s cock inside you as he came again was the final push you need. There was a sudden release as the pressure inside you as your body tensed. Eddie’s knot wasn’t even enough to keep your slick inside. You could feel it pouring out and drenching Eddie under you.

“Atta girl,” Steve praises, his hands rubbing your still shaking legs until the went limp. “You did so, so good.” 

“Fuck, yeah she did,” Eddie huffs, clearly exhausted himself.

“Hey, don’t tap out yet, Eds. I’m not done with you.” Steve rubs his cock on yours and Eddie’s skin, soaking himself with your slick until he was satisfied. 

“Sorry, hun, I’ll try and be easy since you can’t move,” Steve says to you with a sincere look. 

You think back to the noises that the two of them make at night when they’re alone together, always wondering f they were rough with each other. It makes sense, two alphas who naturally want to dominate their partner would probably be like a lion and a tiger fighting each other.

Your body suddenly shifts as Eddie’s back arches off the bed. You can feel Steve’s abdomen against you as he pushes himself fully inside of Eddie, filling him to the brim just the same as he is with you. Eddie’s whole body shudders and he cums for the third time inside you. 

But Steve doesn’t give him much time to recover before he starts moving. His arms scoop under Eddie’s legs by the knees, bending the both of you slightly as he begins to piston into Eddie. Both of your bodies move with Steve’s thrusts, including Eddie’s cock as he’s inside of you. It almost feels as if Steve is fucking the both of you. 

Eddie’s arms wrap around you tightly, pulling you as close to him as possible while you move in tandem with each other. Your so far gone that you barely even register the way his teeth graze against the skin of your neck. He lets out low growls against the skin that covers your scent gland, the pressure of his teeth teasing you as if taunting you with the possibility of him marking you.

Steve’s hand grazes against your cheek, the skin of his arm running against the round of your cheek. It happened so quickly. Your eyes shot open to find Steve leaning forward, a bewildered look on his face that bordered rage. He wasn’t looking at you, though, rather just past you at Eddie. Turning your head slowly, you see that Steve’s hand is completely covering Eddie’s mouth, his eyes wide with realization.

There was a long, silent, unmoving pause. The entire mood shifted in a second, the air thick with tension that made you afraid to even blink. You could feel Eddie’s chest rise and fall under you, your skin sticky from the sweat that had accumulated between the two of you. All you wanted was to crawl away and get in the shower, the very full feeling of being full of 4 or 5 loads of alpha cum was beginning to feel heavy inside of you.

Slowly, Steve removes his hand from Eddie’s mouth, the two of them looking at each other for a moment before Steve clears his throat.

“Sorry,” he says with a forced smile. “That was, um, a little to close for comfort for me. Didn’t mean to kill the mood.”

Eddie didn’t say anything.

The gradual shrinking of his knot made it to where you could slip yourself off of him. Without a word, you rolled off of him and ran into their closet on shaky legs. 

As soon as the door closed, you collapsed into the nest you had made and began to feel a wave of anxiety come over you. There’s muffled words being exchanged on the other side of the door, voiced raised just enough that you could tell it was an argument, but it didn’t seem to escalate much beyond that. 

This isn’t how you expected any of this to go. In the lucid state you were in you tried to remember all the terms that were discussed when it came to actually having sex. One at a time. Only enough interaction to get the job done. Minimal small talk. Knotting is okay considering the higher catch rate. 

But there was definitely not to be any bonding.

The whole thing was meant to be as sterile and clinical and professional as sex between two people could be. Even if they were both hot, there was no way you were going to come between them. You weren’t going to be the other woman.

A soft nudge on your shoulder woke you up from your sleep. The mixed smells overwhelmed you once again, the floaty feeling in your mind returning as your heat took over.

“Hey, are you okay?” Steve’s voice was gentle and laced with concern. His thumb rubbed circles into your skin as you roused more, turning slightly to look up at him. He was shirtless, only in a pair of gray boxers that you’re pretty sure he stole from your nest before you woke up in hopes that you wouldn’t notice.

“Mmhmm, just really tired,” you say, punctuating your statement with a yawn. Steve chuckled and knelled down next to you, his hand maintaining contact with your arm.

“I’m sorry, hun. We, uh…we went a little overboard with you, so I’m sure you’re exhausted.” You nod your head at his words, only able to keep one eye open on him as he talked. “Is it—Can—Can I—Can we help you get in the shower?” Steve stuttered as if he was asking you if you would scold him. Little did he know that the thought of hot water hitting your skin sounded amazing after all your body had been through.

“Yes, please,” you said breathlessly, arms stretching out towards him. Even in the low light you could see the tension leaving his body. Strong arms scoop you up and lead you into the bathroom. The light was low, water already running in the walk in shower as Eddie stood next to it, his hand inside of the curtain presumably checking the temperature.

“Hey,” he said once he noticed the two of you enter, his voice was stilted. He had an unreadable look on his face, his eyes looking anywhere but at you at Steve. “The water’s ready. You guys should be good to go…”

“You’re not taking a shower?” You ask, head tilting to the side.

Eddie looks at you, his eyebrows disappearing into his disheveled bangs as if he were surprised you were even talking to him. He looked up at Steve, mouth opening and closing as if lost for words.

“Do you—are you okay with him…also being in the shower?”

You look up at Steve, confused at the question.

“I don’t mind.” Your mind immediately goes back to your thoughts from earlier. You weren’t going to be the other woman. 

“Unless you mind. Actually, maybe I should just take a shower by myself.” You push against Steve’s body until he lowered you down onto your feet. You miss the way Steve and Eddie look at each other as you enter the shower without them.

You awoke the next day burning up.

After haphazardly moving your nest into your room while you showered, you spent a good hour rearranging the different articles of Steve and Eddie’s belongings on your bed before finally falling asleep.

Looking over at the clock on your nightstand, you were shocked to see that you’d slept for 16 hours. It wasn’t uncommon for you to sleep for 10 or 12 hours during a heat, but 16 was a new record for you. 

And your body was paying the price for it. The ache between your legs throbbed as your heat was reaching its day two peak. All you could think about was Eddie and Steve coming in to relieve you of the pain as you pulled their shirts over your face. Inhaling their scent, you let out a load moan that turned into a cry as the pain radiated down your legs. 

There was a knock on your bedroom door. You knew it was Eddie before his knuckles even hit the wood, his scent becoming extremely noticeable to you in the house. Steve must not be home, the lack of the mix of there scents making Eddie stand out much more in his absence.

“Come in,” your voice was strained and slightly muffled by the shirt over your face. The door creaked open, but Eddie didn’t say anything. His silence prompted you to uncover your face. Eddie stood in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights. He was so close, yet far enough way that it frustrated you. 

“What are you doing?” You sounded petulant, and if you were in the right state of mind you may even be embarrassed for using such a tone. But you were in so much pain, and the solution to your problem was dangling itself in front of you just out of reach.

“I, uh, I heard you cry out and I just…” His mouth closed as he swallowed, his lips smacking as if his throat had gone dry. You sat up slowly in the bed and Eddie’s eyes followed your every movement. 

“S-Steve had to go in to work today,” he suddenly blurted out, his blown out pupils meeting yours. “I was able to take the week off to, uh, to—to.”

“To fuck me?” The words came from a place of impatience and irritation. Eddie sucked in a sharp breath at your bluntness, giving a sharp nod. 

“But, I’m not supposed to until Steve gets home.” His head turns to the side, eyes suddenly very interested in a painting on the wall. 

“What? Why? I thought…The contract…”

“It’s because of, well, what happened last night. Steve wants us all to, uh, talk before we go any further.”

Tears begin to form on your lash line. The rational version of you would understand, but the only thing you were concerned about was getting the relief you desperately needed. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Eddie’s hands cupped your face, his rough thumbs wiping away the tears that started to fall down your cheeks. “He’ll be home soon though. He said he wasn’t going to stay out a minute longer than he had to—”

The sound of the front door suddenly opening had you sobbing with relief. It slammed shut, Steve’s rushed footsteps echoed up the stairs and down the hall until he appeared in the doorway. His hair was every which way and he was panting after sprinting to get to you.

“I didn’t do anything,” Eddie said, backing away from you, and you could feel the loss of his touch in your soul.

“I know,” Steve said as he rushed to take Eddie’s spot in front of you. “Hey whats wrong?”

You sniffled, looking up at him through your watery lashes. “Hurts, Steve. Please…” You reach out a hand for him and he hesitates. He grabs you by the wrist and pushes your hand back before you can reach him.

“Okay, I understand, sweet girl.” He nods, looking at Eddie briefly before looking you in the eyes. “But we need to talk first. Okay?”

You whine out, rubbing the tears from your eyes with your free hand.

“It’ll be quick, I promise.” Steve takes a deep breath in. The grip on his hand loosens as he takes your hand in his.

 “We…we want to make sure that you’re still okay. After last night, everything happened so quickly and things got carried away…We just don’t want to make you feel like that’s how it has to be.”

You blink up at him, trying to process all the words being spoken to you while pushing down the pain. 

“Because of the contract?” You ask, hoping that you’re asking the right question.

“Yes, exactly. We strayed quite a bit from the guidelines we set and we want to make sure you’re still okay with going forward.”

“Steve.” 

The seriousness in your tone has Steve tensing, his body as still as a statue.

“I know what I signed up for. If I don’t like something I promise I will tell you. But, until one of you knocks me up, you could fuck me on an overpass and I would not care. When I said free game, I meant it.”

Almost as soon as you said it, the room became heavy with Eddie’s scent. The weight has you collapsing on the bed, arousal pouring from you as your body preps itself. Steve looks over to Eddie, whose mask finally drops to reveal the feral intentions he was repressing. 

“Eddie—”

“Steve, I’ve been going crazy sitting in this house all day waiting for you to come home just to hear that I could have been in here taking care of her while she cried out for hours.”

Steve turns to face Eddie fully, gritting his teeth.

“You’re the whole reason I wanted to wait! If you were able to have better control of yourself, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“Me? If I remember correctly, you’re the one who said he wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself if we brought an omega into this relationship.”

“I wasn’t sure if I would, but clearly you’re the one who has no self restraint. Trying to bond with her the first time you fuck her isn’t really a good look, Eddie!”

“I said I was sorry! I didn’t—Woah!”

While the two of them argued, you’d managed to slip off the bed and crawl over to where Eddie stood. The bulge in his jeans was too enticing to continue ignoring. You could tell Eddie would be easier to make fold if you made the first move. 

You rub your face against the material in his jeans, mouthing at him until he got the message. Forgetting his argument with Steve, Eddie quietly made quick work of his belt, hastily undoing the button and zipper as well. Your hands took over, pulling his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. You were so close to him that his cock hit your nose as it popped out of the confines of his clothes, eliciting a chuckle from Eddie. 

But you didn’t wait to hear what ever cleaver comment he had planned to say. Immediately you wrapped your lips around the leaking tip, wasting no time trying to take him as deep down your throat as you were able to manage. The sounds coming from above you sent little shivers down your spine.

“Okay, okay—” Eddie pulls himself from your mouth. There was pained look on his face as he pinched the head between his finger and thumb. 

“Sorry, was gonna bust too quick. And as good as you are at sucking dick, we don’t want anything to go to waste right?” You blink up at him, nodding dumbly as you lacked the words to respond to him. His hand came to rest against your cheek and you leaned into it, eyes fluttering shut at his touch. 

“Awe, is the little omega too far gone already? Need me to take all that pain away?” You nodded against his hand, almost falling over when he pulled it away. Before you could protest, you felt yourself being lifted once again, body landing with a plop on top of the bed.

When you looked up, you saw Eddie kicking his pants and boxers to the side, eyes on where you lay waiting for him. For a brief moment, you notice that Steve isn’t in the room anymore. A little voice in the back of your mind tries to break through your fog, but it quiets as Eddie leans over you with his imposing frame. 

Eddie swings his legs over yours until he had you straddling him. Leaning in close, his mouth hovers just next to your ear. “I promised Stevie that I wouldn’t fuck you from behind anymore. Don’t need the unnecessary temptation. Hope that’s okay.”

“O-okay.” It comes out as a whisper, only audible to Eddie with how close he was to you. The heat coming off of him only raised your body temperature more as he caged you under him. 

Suddenly, his hand lands on your hip. His hand slides down your side and over your hip, only stopping once his hand is fully cupping over your center. Two of his thick fingers tease your hole for a moment before he sinks them in. The welcomed intrusion has you gasping out in relief, even more so when his rough thumb toys with your clit. Your arm wraps around him and hold on for dear life as he picks up the pace, his fingers reaching deep inside you as he works you open.

Just as you feel yourself hurtling towards your climax, Eddie abruptly pulls his fingers from your pussy, much to your dismay. You look up at him in disbelief and watch as he coats his cock in your juices before pushing it inside of you. He looks at you once he’s in, an apologetic look on his face.

“Sorry,” he says as he pushes himself in to the hilt, “Wanted to feel you cum on my cock.”

And you did. With only a few sloppy pumps as he got his rhythm going you were spasming around him, legs shaking as he continued to fuck you through it. 

The bed creaks as his hips rock into you. Skin against skin, sweat dripping from his face down onto yours from your combined body heat filling the room. Eddie’s very vocal when he fucks, whether its grunts or groans or him reminding you how good you feel around him every time you cum.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to fill this omega pussy up,” he pants, his sloppy movements signaling to you that he’s reaching his end. “Feels so fucking good. Didn’t know what I’ve been missing all these years.”

His words ring in your ears, but you’re too fucked out to dissect them now. Instead, you lock them in your mind to explore at a later time.

“Hah, shit!”

Eddie grits his teeth, hips stilling as his fills you once again with his cum. Any remaining ache immediately dissipates once you feel his hot seed inside you, satiating your need for the time being. 

There’s a twitch at the base of Eddie’s cock and you brace yourself for his knot. But Eddie pulls out before he can fully knot you, his chest heaving as he sits back on his haunches. Instead, he grabs your legs and lifts you up until your butt rests against his legs, elevating your lower half.

“This is supposed to help I guess,” he huffs out, his hands still holding your legs by the ankles, his knotted cock twitching against your ass.

“Why…why did you—?”

“Not knot you?” You nod.

“No knotting if the other alpha is waiting their turn. It’s in the contract, remember?”

“Oh yeah…”

Eddie calls out for Steve, waiting for few moments for him to respond. When he got nothing, he called for Steve again. Still nothing.

With a huff, Eddie moved around the contents of your nest until you were elevated without his assistance. He hopped off of the bed and grabbing his boxers, sliding them on over his still hard cock.

“I’m gonna go find him. Just try and stay like that for the ten minutes.”

You waited patiently for the ten minutes, expecting Steve to come in and take his turn with you. But, he didn’t show. You waited another ten minutes just for good measure, but the need to pee took over and you had no choice but to move.

As you opened the bedroom door, you were met with Eddie once again, his fist raised as if he was about to knock.

“Oh, hi,” he said awkwardly. “Sorry that you had to wait.”

“It’s okay. I just have to pee and then I’ll be ready for Steve.”

“Oh, um, Steve’s…not in the mood. So, you’re good to shower or sleep—actually, you haven’t even eaten today. I’ll go make you something to eat real quick.”

Eddie doesn’t give you time to respond before he’s bounding down the stairs, leaving you in the doorway with your mouth hung open.

Five grueling days later, you wake up feeling…sore. Not in the same way as your heat made you feel sore, but rather in the exact way that you think you would feel after being fucked multiple times a day for 5 days straight. 

Waddling as you move, you pile all of the clothes that you’d stolen from the two men during your heat onto the center of your bed. Stripping the pillow cases and bed sheets, you drag everything down the stairs to start a load of laundry while. 

The house was quiet as you moved around it. A note left for you on the counter from Steve and Eddie said that the both of them went into work today to catch up on what they might have missed during the week. 

Yesterday you wanted to spend alone time in your nest, so you knew that it was your last day of your heat. You’d let the boys know that you’d likely not be cycling anymore so that you all could go back to your normal routine the next day.

Which is exactly how it felt.

You spent the day cleaning, doing laundry, prepping dinner for when Eddie and Steve would come home. Your went through the motions that you had gotten used to in the first two weeks of you being here.

But, you also had time to spend the whole day analyzing everything that had happened during the last week.

Thinking back, there wasn’t anything that came to mind that you could complain about on your end. You’d rationalized everything that happened in that first night; Eddie and Steve had both been a little tipsy. You didn’t notice the alcohol on their breath with the overwhelming smells of their pheromones all around you. But when you recalled the memory with a clear mind, you could definitely smell it on them any time they got close enough to your face.

Sure, the things that happened were off from what the terms of your contract outlined, but most of those terms were made with you in mind. And you didn’t really mind what had happened at all…

But, Steve clearly wasn’t happy. He still had sex with you during your heat, but it was more like how you had expected it to go in the beginning. It felt as clinical as sex could be. You were thankful that he had to cum inside of you, or else you might not have gotten the relief of the ache without it. He also left once he was done, usually sending Eddie in not long after to check on your. 

Sex with Steve felt like you were being used, but you couldn’t fault him for it.

Sex with Eddie was different. 

With Eddie’s talkative nature and inability to filter his thoughts when he was inside of you, you’ve come to the understanding that you might be the first omega that Eddie’s ever been with. You also think that Steve had been around the block a few times before getting with Eddie.

“Now I see what Steve’s talking about.”

“I get why Steve was worried about bringing an omega around.”

“Can’t believe Steve could ever give this up.”

And other things along those lines paint a picture of the relationship dynamic that these two might have when you’re not involved. 

Steve was hesitant from the get go because he knew what he was missing as an alpha being in a relationship with a non-omega. Eddie’s either never been with an omega, or he’s never been with anyone other than Steve.

After coming to these conclusions, your mind couldn’t help but think about them over and over. Was Steve’s reluctance to open up to you because he felt bad about your first time together, or was he putting up a barrier between you to keep any potential feelings at bay?

Eddie certainly didn’t seem to mind. There must have been a discussion between the two of them about making things even when it came to having sex with you. Because Eddie was always eager to jump you, his enthusiasm clear every time you were together. But, it was always either preceded or followed by a less enthused Steve.

As the hours ticked by, the more nervous you began to feel for the arrival of the men of the house. You didn’t want things to be different after everything that had happened. It’s not like any of this was spontaneous. Having sex with each other was the whole point, but you couldn’t get over the feeling that things weren’t going to be okay anymore.

It was a little after 5:30 when the front door opened for the first time. You didn’t hear it over the radio playing and the loud sizzling of the oil as you seared the steaks for dinner. Your singing along with Madona’s Like a Prayer turned into a loud shriek when you turned and saw Eddie leaning against the counter with an amused look on his face. Your hand flies to your chest as you collect yourself and Eddie almost keels over from laughter at your fright.

“Eddie, you asshole! You can’t scare me like that!” You hit him lightly on the arm with your hand towel.

“I didn’t do it on purpose! I was just enjoying the free concert that I didn’t know was going on in my kitchen.”

“Oh, please,” you say over your shoulder as you return to the steaks. “I didn’t take you as a Madonna guy.”

“I’m not. Only listen to her to appease Steve.” Eddie moves to lean against the counter next to you. You can feel his eyes on you as you flip the steaks around, checking on the twice baked mashed potatoes in the oven, reading over the instructions for the Stove Top.

“If you’re going to hover around me, then you can make yourself useful. Here,” you walk to the pantry and pull out a box of brownie mix, “Why don’t you make sure we have everything we need to make these?”

“We do,” Eddie says, taking the box from you with a smirk. “Everything…except the ingredient that makes them fun.”

It takes a moment for it to click. He laughs at you again as your eyes roll.

“Sounds like a good time in here!”

Steve peers into the kitchen as he pulls his coat off, placing it on the back of one of the island chairs. 

Steve’s presence suddenly makes you acutely aware of how close Eddie is standing to you currently.

“Hey there, handsome,” Eddie cooes as Steve makes his way over to him. Steve leans and kisses Eddie on the lips. It’s a purely innocent kiss between to lovers, but your brain immediately flashes to the other night. The way they kissed each other with so much passion, completely dismissing you in their own pursuit of pleasure.

“Hi, babe,” Steve says between a few more pecks. When he pulls away from Eddie’s lips, he sniffs the air around him dramatically before looking at you.

“Damn, it smells amazing in here. Are you cooking steaks?”

Steve talking to you like he had before alleviated at least 85% of your anxiety over the last week. You nod, smiling up at him proudly.

“Yep, picked them up on sale last time we went to the store. Everything is almost done, too. So I hope you boys worked up an appetite today.”

Dinner went without a hitch, the conversation flowing normally between the three of you. You expected there to not be any mention of the past week, but small things in passing were brought up without any hidden malice or passive aggression. Eddie even mentioned that his coworkers were ragging on him for taking his first week off in years just to get laid. 

After dinner, Eddie insisted on helping you make the brownies while Steve showered. Everything seemed normal as you read off the instructions. Eddie ran around the kitchen to grab you everything you needed.

“...and I’ll need a big bowl to mix everything in.” You were standing against the stove, back to Eddie as you set the oven to preheat. The box was still in your hand as you read it over one more time, not paying much attention to anything else as your head bounced to the low hum of a metal tape Eddie had put on. 

Suddenly, you were being squished against the stove. Eddie’s arm reached out above you, his whole body pressing into yours as he opened the cabinet and pulled out a large mixing bowl. And as if it wasn’t weird enough, he stayed pressed against you as he placed it in front of you. You didn’t know how long he would have stayed like that, only backing away after Steve’s footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. 

Eddie didn’t touch you like that for the rest of the night, and you didn’t bring it up. And as you laid in bed that night, you couldn’t decipher what exactly had happened. It already felt like how he pushed his body against you was wrong, but you could swear that you felt him…hard against your backside. 

Not wanting to dwell on it, you chalked it up to lingering hormones. It might take a couple days for Eddie to adjust back after sleeping together for the last 6 days. You pushed it into the back of your mind and ignored it until you dozed off for the night.

thank you for reading.

tagging a few people who might be interested:

@xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @babygorewhore @myosotisa @munson-blurbs @bimbobaggins69 @chaoticharrington @lonelysatellites @blueywrites @reidsbtch

[appocalipse]

that guy ⊹ steve harrington

summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.

It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.

To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.

You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.

"Hi."

You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"

"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."

A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.

How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?

You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.

"So...not the one, I take it?"

Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.

"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."

"Nothing is wrong with you."

"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"

The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."

Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.

"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."

"She does."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."

"At least you have one."

He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"

You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.

What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.

Until it wasn't.

"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."

"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."

Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"

You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."

"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"

Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.

Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.

"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."

"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.

Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"

"You...don't know him," you hedge.

"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."

"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."

Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."

The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.

You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."

"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.

You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?

You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.

"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."

Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.

The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.

No, you aren't going to cry.

This is stupid.

You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.

When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.

You don't have to look up to know that it's him.

"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.

"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.

There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.

"You look just fine to me."

You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."

He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.

"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.

You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.

"I should've never asked. That was selfish."

"Forget it," you say.

He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.

You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.

"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."

"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."

"Yup. Exactly. In there."

"So you said."

"Yep."

The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—

He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.

"Okay, so—"

You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.

He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."

You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.

"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.

Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"

"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."

"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"

He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.

"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."

"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.

"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."

"Steve."

"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."

"Steve—"

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."

He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.

Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

"I don't—what?"

Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.

"This," Steve murmurs.

He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.

"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"I think I am."

His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.

"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"

You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.

"Yes. It's you."

A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.

You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.

"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."

A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.

"Oh yeah?"

"Completely."

You kiss him this time.

[hungharrington]

Ok hear me out casual intimacy with Steve!! Like imagine the first time u shower together and u just wash his hair for him! The first time u change in front of him or wen ur wearing an oversized t shirt and like skimpy panties and go over to the couch where he is and sit in his lap it's the moments where it's such so much trust and love low key him realizing how comfy u are around him and how much u trust him he gets turned on

Brushing ur teeth together at his place? Man is half hard already

ohooooo casual intimacy IS his turn on you’re so goddamn right — this is just like, sweet domesticity <3 and steve then gets turned on by it hehehe + fade to black smut

There had been a period of time after you got together where Steve sometimes wondered if you were ever going to properly relax around him. Like truly relax.

Not that he minded in the least! Watching you avert your gaze nervously, feeling your face glow all hot when he calls you honey, feeling the little tremble in your fingers when you hold his hand— Steve adores it all.

He knows it means you like him. And Steve likes you too.

He likes you a whole bunch— like a lot a lot, okay? In fact, if he probably told you how much he likes you, you’d probably melt and hide under the covers and never return. Which Steve doesn’t ever want.

So you’re a bit reserved and Steve’s still crazy for you and it works. But basically, he never really expected to get this.

“D’ya wanna, like, maybe, shower together?”

Steve blinks, his towel in one hand and his heart pounding in his chest. Did you just say that? He blinks again, just to be sure.

You’re staring at him from your place on his bed, probably being the bravest you’ve ever been considering what you’ve just asked him.

“Yeah- yes. Of course.” He stammers out before you can get too shy on him. “I’ll go get another towel.”

It doesn’t take long for him to snag another from the linen cupboard but by the time he’s back, he can hear the spray of the shower. You’ve left a trail of clothes leading up to it. Something warm stirs in his chest.

He doesn’t make a big deal about it and you seem grateful for it. Beyond the odd complaint about hogging the water, to which Steve sticks his tongue out at you before switching, it’s almost like an ordinary shower. Washing up, wetting his hair.

Except, y’know, til you offer to wash it.

I swear to god do not get a boner right now, Steve thinks desperately to himself, his head ducked down so you could reach it more easily. You’re not making it easy for him. You’re paying him so much attention, your fingertips soothing along his scalp as you lather up the shampoo, massaging the skin. It’s heaven.

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this relaxed whilst the two of you have no clothes on.

You’ve been trying not to be so iffy about being naked but honestly Steve didn’t care if you were forever. He likes you any way he can get you.

Usually, the lead up to sex is the only time Steve gets to see you naked— when it’s all charged air and an eager energy to start making each other feel good. Hot kisses and a feverish vision of pleasure.

But this… this is different. There’s no charged energy, just a low buzz of love.

You cup your hands over his eyes so shampoo doesn’t get in them when you tilt his head back to rinse it and Steve nearly cries then and there. He’s never been so happy to return a favour, letting you lean up against him as he soaps up your hair. He’s pretty sure your eyes are closed the whole time. It feels good, taking care of you. It makes him happy.

Afterward, as you towel off, Steve keeps expecting that familiar shyness to creep in.

He’s not watching, okay? But as he gets himself dressed, just in his pyjama pants, it doesn’t go unnoticed that you’re not scrambling to cover up. Instead, you’re at ease, slipping on your panties and then one of his own large t-shirts. You must’ve stolen it when he wasn’t in the room.

It makes him pause, a momentary gawk, before he remembers to close his mouth. You catch the end of it and a flustered expression crosses your face, as if realising how much you’re exposing yourself. And that just won’t do— so Steve remedies it with a kiss, dragging you over to him by the waist so he can lean up against the counter and kiss you sweetly.

You both have wet hair. Your skin is all dewey from the shower and your eyelashes look extra long when they’re wet. You’re fucking beautiful.

It’s all Steve can think as you both brush your teeth in the mirror— making eye contact every couple of seconds and grinning like goofballs. It’s not productive. Steve adores it.

You’re both half-dressed, you without pants and Steve without his shirt, and it’s so damn homey, so cozy, so in love, that it makes Steve’s chest a little tight, in a good way. It’s intimate. You trust him.

Oh my god, He thinks. You trust him.

His pants grow tight. The flimsy material of his pyjamas hide nothing. Steve holds one hand in front of his crotch and looks to the ceiling for strength, because there’s no way you won’t be able to notice.

You lean over and spit out your toothpaste and then look at him through the mirror.

“Steve?”

“Yah?” He gargles back, toothbrush still in his mouth, eyes still on ceiling. His cock thickens a little more in his pants, blood getting a little hotter.

“Are you…?”

He gives a big sigh through his nose, “Yah.”

He finally forces himself to met your eyes through the mirror and you’re… smiling? Almost mischievously. Oh god.

“Because… of the teeth brushing?”

Steve rolls his eyes but the embarrassed flush on his cheeks still gives him away. He leans over and spits his toothpaste, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“No, not cos of the— well, not just cos of the—“ He cuts himself off, the blush on his face beginning to spread down his neck. “Look, you washed my hair and you’re not wearing any pants! We’re brushing our teeth together! I like it, okay?”

In a complete reversal of the usual, suddenly Steve’s the flustered one and you’re the cool, calm one. Your smile only grows at his explanation, some of the mischief exchanging for fondness.

“That’s okay,” You say softly. You press up on your toes to kiss his cheek and wander towards the door. “Do you wanna cuddle tonight?”

Steve’s cock gets harder at your words and he groans, because he knows you know what you’re doing— especially when you laugh a little, a cheeky sound. You’re playing into his in-love fantasy, his domestic dream, that somehow has a direct line to his dick now, which is probably most definitely a problem for later.

“You know I do.”

“Well, c’mon then, loverboy,” You coo.

Steve chases you from the bathroom all the way to his sheets, your laughter louder and more beautiful than anything.

And he does get his cuddles —y’know, after he fucks your brains out.