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yunirgo · 18 minutes

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“What did you just say?” WOAH

hi bb! apologies for the wait and for getting a lil carried away on this one, but I hope you enjoy it <3 just a lil over 2k, enemies to lovers, mean(ish)!steve, dacryphilia, etc.

You hate slow shifts at work.

Correction: you hate slow shifts while working with Steve.

It was busier in the first half of the day, or so Robin said before clocking out, but once evening fell on a quiet Wednesday night, there had to be about 5 or so customers that came into the store. All spaced out by hours dragging in between.

Those hours drag much more when Steve’s around. You’ve come close to quitting a few times after working together, but once you found it brought him only more satisfaction to make you miserable, you decided to tough it out, stay out of pure spite.

That spite only encouraged Steve to become insufferable, burrowing under your skin any chance he’d get. It’s just been a back and forth, one-upping competition of who could be more terrible to the other ever since. Robin has tried mediating between the both of you with no progress in sight. Keith has warned you both, separately and together, that you’re on thin ice if this keeps up.

A shitty job at Family Video was not worth all of this stress, but you can’t bring yourself to back down now. Steve, still cocky and competitive when the right things set him off, couldn’t lose to you and your spiteful, bratty antics.

By now, neither of you could even remember why you couldn’t stand the other, but any reason wouldn’t matter now anyway. Something, something about Steve claiming you’re some “washed up slut”, how you always believe you’re right in any situation, and other shit that rolls off your back by now. You’ve thrown ugly remarks in return, something along the lines of him being a “failure whose only friends are a bunch of kids”, how it’s only the desperate girls throwing themselves at him, stuff like that.

All of that tension and fury have to lead to something eventually.

It only leads somewhere that you least expect.

Steve’s pocketing his third number of the night, given by yet another girl he lays the generic flirting on thick with.

With a wink, he tells her, “I’ll call you later.”

You retch behind him at the far end of the counter. She never notices, but Steve sure does. When the girl leaves, it’s just you and Steve alone in the store, your least favorite time of closing shifts with him.

Striding over to the front door, you lock it and flip the “closed” sign, mocking Steve as you mutter under your breath, “I’ll call you later.” Your tone’s whiny, comical, but Steve’s not laughing.

“Jesus, try a little harder if you’re gonna poke fun at me,” He rolls his eyes, leaning against the counter with his eyes on you. When you turn around, you spot the way his stare lingers on your legs, on display in the skirt you decided to wear. “Y’know, I don’t think that skirt’s short enough for you. Usually you’re flashing more skin than that.”

Your lip curls in a snarl, flipping him off as you walk back to the counter. You gather some tapes to return to the shelves, throwing over your shoulder, “Sorry, Harrington, the free shows are over.”

It doesn’t shake his stare off as you walk away; he’s pissed you always wear outfits that only accentuate your body’s features. Makes it harder for him to focus on work, or flirting with other girls. You’re the worst distraction Steve’s ever encountered.

You don’t even need to turn around to feel his gaze on you. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer, loser.”

With a disgusted huff, Steve grabs another stack of tapes to restock on the opposite side of the store. He can’t even focus on such a basic task, though. He’s bothered, to say the least; he’s shed the ‘King Steve’ persona years ago, realizing his faults while becoming a better person, for not just himself, but everyone around him.

Except you.

You’re the one person he’s ready to snap over. You’re the one roadblock in his way while he tries his hardest to move forward from his past. You’re the one asshole he considers throwing his progress aside just to make you cry, make you regret treating him like he’s lower than dirt.

Steve can’t think too much about wanting to see you cry, wanting to make you cry— it got him hard last time, and he’s still revolted by his body betraying him like that. It was something he couldn’t shake from his thoughts, not until he finally fucked his fist over the fantasies his lust painted out for him, all involving you.

He’d rather fight off another demogorgon than think of you like that.

You’re humming along to whatever song is playing softly over the store’s speakers, grabbing more tapes to put away. He looks up as you pass the aisle he’s in, noticing the lollipop in your mouth, and the dirty titles making up the tapes you carry to the back.

Steve knows better, knows he should leave you alone, finish his work, but he follows you into the adult section anyway.

Leaning against the doorframe, he watches you stretch up to the top shelf, unable to hold back as he mouths off, “Damn, you’re fast putting all that porn back, must know ‘em pretty well.”

You look back after settling back on your feet, brow quirking, “Oh, no! A girl watches porn! How scandalous!” You turn back to the shelves, continuing your task. “Get over yourself, Steve.”

That wasn’t the answer he expected, but there wasn’t an answer he had in mind anyway. Instead of leaving you alone, being the bigger person and dropping the insults, for once, he continues to taunt you.

While walking up behind you, Steve asks, “Are you even allowed to wear shit like that here?”

“I wear whatever I wanna wear.” You don’t turn to respond to him, don’t give him the basic respect to make eye contact. “What’s it to you?”

“Just wondering if it’s a slut thing,” He shrugs, grabbing some tapes from your hands. His hand ever so slightly brushes up along your chest, earning a scowl from you, “y’know, wearing skirts for easy access.”

You sputter, choking on air briefly. “I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“For someone who hates me, you sure love talking about my supposed sex life,” You snicker, giving him a once over, making him feel small under your stare. “Then again, I don’t expect anything different from someone who’ll fuck anything that moves.”

You hoped that’d shut him up, even for a moment, but without hesitation he cracks back, “Haven’t fucked you yet, so you might be wrong on that one.”

Face heating up, you’re flustered, until you catch one word that exposes him. “‘Yet’? You bankin’ on a wet dream about me? That’s cute. Dreamin’ big, huh?”

Steve’s running out of ammo to hit back with, faltering in his response, “Y- you wish.”

“What’s there to wish for, Steve? You, talking a big game, only to finish for yourself, while whatever girl’s in your bed is left frustrated and faking it for the sake of your fragile ego?” The laugh that leaves your lips, your pretty, pouty lips, the ones he’s always curious to feel around his dick, hits him hard. His face falls, too stunned to come back with a damaging response. “Yeah, I’m good.”

You replace the last tape in your hands, heading for the door. Steve, though, isn’t finished with this mess he started.

“What did you just say?” He catches your arm in his hand, yanking you towards him. You’re caught off guard, eyes wide as you look up at him.

Shaking off the surprise with a smirk, you taunt him, mirroring an earlier response he gave you, “You heard me.”

Steve pulls the lollipop from your mouth, earning a gasp while he places it in his mouth; he’s backing you up against the wall, arms on either side of you caging you in. “You need something bigger to keep that bratty mouth quiet, huh?”

He kicks at your feet, and you take the hint to spread your legs; his leg pushes between yours, but not close enough to give the pressure or friction you need for some relief.

“Knew you’d be fuckin’ easy,” The way his voice drops low, face close to yours while his eyes are blown out with lust, dark and full of trouble, it hitches your breath, causing you to clench around nothing with a whine. It’s soft, airy, but loud enough for him to catch it. “Y’let all these guys touch you… fuck you… bet none of ‘em ever tamed you, though.”

You huff and look away, but Steve grabs your face roughly, pulling your stare back to him.

“Answer me.” He throws the lollipop to the floor, needy for something more between his own lips.

You hate this. All of this. You hate how easy it is for him to shape you from a hardened brat to a submissive mess. Worst of all, you hate how much you love this entire scenario.

Steve’s giving you what other guys never give— a chance to brat out, to fight back, earn a struggle that builds pleasure like no other, running straight to your core.

“Get fucked, Stev—“ He shoves three fingers into your mouth, silencing you quickly. You’re going to give in quickly, he can tell by the way you don’t hesitate to swirl and roll your tongue around him. He groans, pushing his thigh against your core; your gasp is muffled, mouth still occupied.

It only takes seconds for Steve to feel it, “Christ, you’re fucking wet… knew it.”

You pull the fingers from your mouth, brows pinching together, annoyed. “How the hell would you know— oh—“ He grabs your hips, rolling you onto his leg slowly, back and forth, enjoying the way your jaw drops just from this alone.

Steve chuckles, hands leaving you as you continue grinding against him; he grabs your hands to pin them above your head, leaning in dangerously close to you. “Could smell how sweet ya’ are all night.”

Embarrassment flows through you, making you feel hot and lightheaded. “I- I haven’t been— that’s— you’re lying!”

“You know how hard it’s been not to bend you over the counter and make you take me right there?” His lips ghost over your trembling ones. “Show you what brats get when they’re outta line? Fuck, every time y’bent over, I’d get hard thinking ‘bout just spanking you, making you take every hit ‘til you cry.”

“Then do it already, quit being all talk and no—“ Steve pushes off the wall, leaving space between the two of you. You’re panting and aching and pissed off. Angry that he’s toying with you like this, how he’s doing everything right, the way you’ve always fantasized, like he’s inside your thoughts.

You’re so angry, the emotion lines your eyes with tears, threatening to spill over. Your bottom lip wobbles into the most pathetic, shameful pout that’s ever appeared on your face. Steve, on the other hand, is pleased as he witnesses you unravel from just being teased and humiliated alone.

You’re about to break; you can’t take this anymore. You need him on you, in you, or whatever he’ll offer at this point.

“Steve… please?” You hate hearing the words fall out of your own mouth. You sound so desperate, look desperate too as a tear finally slips down your face.

Taking pity on you, he strides back your way, flipping you to face the wall as he pulls your backside out towards him. Your legs spread automatically, wishing he’d touch you sooner if you’re compliant. His hands slide up and under your skirt before tugging your panties down, stealing them once you step out. He backs away for a moment before quickly spanking your cunt, causing you to jolt forward with a yelp.

Steve leans closer to your face, pressed against the wall; one hand holds you in place, while the other shoves the soaked fabric into your mouth, crudely gagging you. His hand winds through your hair, tugging roughly as he speaks to you.

“Here’s the deal, I’m gonna make you cum, as many times as it takes, ‘til you’re really crying for me. Got it?”

You nod feverishly, trying to speak around the fabric. Steve pulls it out.

“One condition.”

His brows knit together, “What’s that?”

“Toss out all those numbers you got today.”

Steve will. He already planned on it before any of this went down, but he refuses to hand over any satisfaction to you just yet.

As he shoves the fabric back between your lips, he mutters coldly, “I’ll think about it.”

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