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katyswrites · 10 months

Text

don't call me 'baby'

PART 8 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst, unprotected p in v, daddy kink, oral sex (f & m receiving), cum play, ddlg dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 10.2k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

Notes: I know, the Italian/descriptions of this area of Italy are not 100% accurate. Sue me! But seriously, I wasn't too focused on accuracy, so just take it as it is!

PART 8 | drinkin' on the beach (with you all over me)

“So, will you tell me where we’re going yet?” you asked slyly.

“You’ll see when we get there,” he replied, fighting a smile. He extended the hand not carrying your suitcase, which you took as you descended the rest of the steps.

“I just don’t get why you’re not -”

You stopped mid-sentence, realizing what Steve was leading you towards.

“Is that -?”

Your question was answered as he popped the trunk of the red Ferrari, placing your suitcase inside.

“It’s mine. Well, ours, I guess. For the week.”

“You’re - you can’t just rent a car like this -”

“I can,” Steve said, slamming the trunk close. He smiled smugly, then shrugged. “I know a guy.”

You managed to pick your jaw up from where it was hanging and rolled your eyes.

“Of course you do,” you said, making your way to the passenger side. “So -”

“Hop in,” he said, opening the door for you. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You took his hand and let him help you in, Steve closing the door behind you and coming around until he was in the driver’s seat, right next to you.

“Wow,” you said under your breath.

“What is it?”

“I just - I realized I’ve never actually seen you drive before. Or, been in the front of a car with you, really.”

He chuckled, sitting back in his seat.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything. Ready?”

You nodded, clicking on your seatbelt as he pulled away from the curb.

“So - what did you say to Robin to get her to agree to taking me away all week? She usually loves to go all-out for my birthday, as much as I tell her she doesn’t have to.”

He shrugged. “I’m pretty good at sweet talking.”

You thought about your roommate for a moment, and the idea of her being sweet-talked into anything, and snorted. “Cute, what did you actually do?”

A pause. Then, “I promised I’d pay for your belated birthday party. Whatever she has planned, I said I’d help make it happen.”

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You don’t understand! Robin loves birthdays! And like, I don’t hate them, but I’ve just never been much of a big celebrator or anything, and she always goes nuts. And now you’re giving her a budget? You’ve created a monster, Harrington.”

He laughed, reaching down to take your hand. He gave it a tight squeeze.

“Well, I’m sorry. But, I’ll do my best to rein her in, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure, good luck with that.”

It’s only several minutes later, after you’ve both laughed it off, that you realized he was still holding your hand as he drove. Had he ever done something like that before? Before you could dwell on it, you pulled your hand away, hoping that reaching for the water bottle in the cupholder made it seem nonchalant.

You cleared your throat.

“So - can I know where we’re going yet?”

“You certainly can guess, if you want.”

You sighed, throwing your head back against the headrest.

“Okay - well, you said I didn’t need a passport, so we’re not flying anywhere. And, you said to pack bathing suits, so I’m guessing the beach, or pool, maybe. So, staycation? In Italy, somewhere?”

His face remained neutral. “Maybe.”

“You’re impossible.”

He chuckled, taking a moment to glance over at you.

“Just, trust me, yeah?”

After a moment, you sighed, giving up.

“Yeah, okay.”

As you drove out of the city, you turned the conversation towards his business trip. You asked him about work, how it went, and leaned back and listened. He mostly vented about it, but you paid it no mind - in reality, it was just nice to be with him again. You tried not to think about that part of it too much, though.

The highrises and busy city streets began quieting, giving way to residential townhouses and open roads. The traffic had lessened, the scenery becoming greener, the road narrower.

“So, how long until we get there?” you asked.

“About 4 hours, give or take,” he said. “It’ll be worth the road trip, I promise.”

“I don’t mind a road trip.”

Not with him, you didn’t.

You found yourself glancing over at Steve every now and then - he had only been gone a week, and you had forgotten just how unabashedly handsome he was in-person. As he stared straight ahead at the road, you took in his side profile, and the way his hazel eyes shone in the sunlight, his hands gripped firmly on the wheel.

Feeling your eyes on him, he spared a glance in your direction. Instead of looking away, you just felt yourself smiling, keeping eye contact.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing - it’s just… you really didn’t have to do… whatever this is. You spoil me, you know.”

His hand found itself on your thigh, giving it a squeeze.

“It’s my favorite thing to do, baby.”

Baby. He had started calling you that more often now outside of the bedroom. You didn’t protest when he kept that hand there, for most of the drive.

Eventually, you found yourself dozing off, the steady motion of the car and low hum of the radio lulling you to sleep. You only found yourself waking when the car came to a halt, blinking groggily.

In front of you was a pier, boats bobbing in the water as cars lined up. The sea stretched out before you, bright blue in the late morning light.

“What are we -”

“We’re catching a ferry,” Steve said.

“So, an island vacation?”

He just shrugged, pulling the car up to the dock to load on. You sighed.

“You know, I barely had any idea what to pack. I just threw stuff into a bag.”

“Don’t worry about that - I brought another suitcase for you, bought you some stuff.”

“Of course you did.”

You still had the inner instinct to lecture him, to berate him for spending so much money on you. But, you couldn’t ignore the way he grinned, proud of being able to spoil you. If you asked him to bring you the stars, he’d probably find a way.

The ferry trip was about an hour long, Steve following you to the upper deck to stretch your legs. You leaned on the edge, looking down at the water below you, the wake of the boat making the bright blue water churn into white seafoam. The salt air blew through your hair, Steve’s arm finding its way around your waist.

Before too long, you found yourselves back in the car and driving off the ferry. You took a moment to assess your surroundings, blinking in the afternoon sun. The port was busy, green hills and rocky mountains stretching out before you in the distance, dotted with colorful buildings. The sea was sparkling, clear as day with an aquamarine hue. The harbor was bustling, boats of all sized docking at the port. People rode their bikes along the pier, the sounds of the water breaking along the coast a consistent din in the background.

“Okay, now can you tell me where we are?”

Steve laughed.

“Yes - It’s called Ischia Island. It’s kind of become a tourist trap recently, but don’t worry, we’re going to the other side of the island - it’s much quieter.”

“I don’t care about that -”

“I know, but - I guess it’d be nice to have some privacy, you know?”

So you let Steve continue to drive, bypassing the main port and heading up the small dirt road, slowly climbing the mountains. It was beautiful - from up here, the views of the coast were breathtaking. For the first time, you truly realized how much Steve wanted to make this special, pulling out all of the stops for you. In all of your time in Italy, you had never had the time or money to do anything touristy, let alone take an actual vacation. Suddenly, it was nearly overwhelming. You glanced over with Steve, taking him in for a moment. Then, the idea hit you.

“How far are we?”

“Close - probably like 15 minutes. I think you’re going to like where we’re staying.”

“Is this road busy?” you asked quietly.

“Here? No, not really. It’s pretty quiet, I kind of wanted it to be -”

“Okay, good,” you said, cutting him off. “Because you’re going to find a place to pull over.”

He glanced over at you, perplexed.

“Why? Are you feeling alright?”

You nodded, leaning across the console to press your lips to his ear.

“I want to thank you, Harrington. Preferably by sucking your cock.”

You were surprised he didn’t drive the car over the edge of the road and into the ocean.

*******

You and Steve didn’t reach your destination until about 45 minutes later, after you had your way with him. In the end, he was a mess, begging you to put him out of his misery after prolonged teasing from the passenger seat. Afterwards, you were shocked he was even capable of driving again.

Finally, though, you saw it - the place you were presumably staying. Steve pulled the car up a small dirt driveway, to where a beautiful villa was tucked at the top of a hill. Its white stucco exterior was striking against the rolling green mountains, stone steps leading up to it. Steve helped you out of the car, gesturing to the house behind him.

“Is this -”

“It’s all ours, baby,” he said, beaming.

“I - I just assumed we were staying at a hotel or something -”

He nearly scoffed. “A hotel? No way, not for this. It’s just us here, the whole place to ourselves.”

He popped the trunk, pulling out the bags, insisting to take yours, too.

You practically bounded up the steps, not even containing your excitement as Steve unlocked the door and waved you in.

Inside, it was bright and airy, the white walls stretching up to high, arched ceilings. There was an open kitchen and eating area, the floor a beautiful blue and white mosaic pattern. With the windows open and curtains pulled aside, the villa was bathed in sunlight. You found yourself going towards the back of the house, gasping at what you saw. Before you was a balcony, with a breakfast nook and, most notably, a pool. But, the most stunning part was the view. The Tyrrhenian Sea stretched before you, sparkling and bluer than the sky, the city barely visible behind the trees. It smelled like salt and citrus, presumably from the trees abundant with fresh fruit. For the first time, you understood what people meant when they said paradise.

You felt Steve coming up behind you, his presence strong and warm.

“Well - what do you think?”

You paused for a moment, turning around slowly to face him. He looked down at you expectantly, and you reckoned he’d probably be crossing his fingers right now if you couldn’t see them. For some reason, he still thought you were hard to impress.

“You did all this… just for me?”

He nodded.

Before he could even say anything else, you had his face in your hands, kissing him so fiercely that you could barely breathe. He pulled you closer, fingers digging into the small of your back. It was only when you pulled away to catch your breath that you spoke again.

“Where’s the bedroom?”

******

You hadn’t even taken time to explore the rest of the house, tumbling into bed with Steve without a moment’s hesitation. Neither of you took your time, too hasty to touch one another after being separated all week. Steve made quick work of your clothes, pulling you into his lap before sliding into you. You nearly cried at the feeling of him inside you again. Sex with Steve was like a drug, and you were finally able to admit to yourself that you were addicted. It wasn’t long before you were both messes, coming undone in a matter of minutes.

“Fuck,” he whispered, lips pressed to your neck. “So fuckin’ perfect, baby - just like that, oh fuck -”

He was thrusting faster now, practically pounding up into you. You dug your nails into his back, dragging them down as you writhed in his arms, hips meeting his thrusts. Your finger picked up the pace on your clit, and you felt yourself losing control. You bounced in his lap, legs caging him as he pulled you closer.

“Oh, I - ah! Steve - oh, shit, just like that - you feel so good -”

“Yeah? You like when daddy stuffs you with his cock?” he grunted.

“Mm, yeah - I’m so full, I feel you everywhere -”

“Keep squeezin’ me, baby - shit, you’re really going for it, so wet - are you close?”

You bit your lip and nodded, moaning as you felt the tension building in your core.

“Yeah, so close - I’m gonna cum -”

“Damn right you are - such a good girl, always cumming on daddy’s cock.”

“Only for you,” you whispered in his ear, pulling him closer, arms wrapping around the nape of his neck. That was the final straw for Steve - he cried out your name, hips stilling as he painted your walls with his cum. You felt the warmth of him fill you, and you sighed. He stayed there, heavily for a moment.

“Fuck,” he said after a moment. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you ran your fingers along his scalp soothingly.

“Wait,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “Did you finish?”

You considered lying - it was nearly instinctual, having done it with other partners in the past. But, there was something about Steve that made it impossible to lie to him.

“No,” you admitted. “But, I came close, really close - you always make me cum, it still was good -”

“Nope, not happening,” he said, brow setting with determination.

“What are you -”

But he was reaching down, thumb finding your clit where your bodies met, his softening cock still inside you.

“Steve, what are you - oh! Shit, I -”

You threw your head back, feeling yourself re-approaching your peak as he rubbed deep circles around the bundle of nerves, slowly picking up the pace.

“Steve - you’re still inside -”

“I know,” he whispered. “I want you to cum around me, can you do that, baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed, gasping as his free hand found your breast. “I’m going to cum on your cock, because I’m your good girl -”

“And tomorrow,” he said, coating his fingers in the slick mix of both of you to stimulate your clit, “you’re going to cum over and over, until you can’t walk. I need to make up for it, gonna make you forget your own name, baby.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, feeling yourself squeezing around him. “I’m gonna -”

“Let go,” he encouraged. “Do it, for me, baby.”

And you did. You screamed his name, pulsing and convulsing around his cock as he continued to work you through it. He was still working on your clit, gradually slowing down as you let the wave of pleasure wash through you.

After, you both just stayed there, tangled in each other as you struggled to regain your breath. You felt his heart thudding against yours, bathing in the afterglow as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“I missed you,” you finally admitted. “I missed this.”

His hand stilled. For a moment, you wondered if you had said the wrong thing, if you had crossed a line. But, then:

“I missed you too,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into your skin.

You felt your face heat, and just pulled him closer to you, deciding not to say anything else, at risk of doing something you couldn’t come back from.

After a while, you found yourselves laying in bed in a comfortable silence. You could hear the crashing waves and cries of seagulls in the distance. You propped yourself up on your elbow, properly looking at the man beside you.

“So - now that we’re here - what’s the plan? For today?”

Steve stared up at the ceiling, thinking.

“Well, we really only have the afternoon now, so - I’ve got stuff for us to do over the next few days, so it’s really up to you. We can go into town, or hit the beach. Or, just hang out here - what do you think, birthday girl?”

You rolled your eyes.

“It’s not my birthday yet -”

“As far as I’m concerned, this entire week is your birthday, baby.”

You felt your heart flutter, and bit your lip.

“Well, if I get to decide - beach?”

He grinned, reaching across to brush some hair out of your face.

“Sounds perfect, baby.”

******

Steve had presented you with a new bathing suit and beach cover-up, practically demanding to see you in it immediately. And, you rarely found it in yourself to say no to him. When he first saw you wearing it, you were genuinely concerned he was going to immediately ruin it by tearing it off of your body. But, he managed to control himself enough to make it out the door, his hand snaking around your waist as you headed down to the beach.

The closest beach to you, as it turned out, was only a short walk down the road. And, it was a pretty quiet one. Steve explained on the way how it was a lesser-known alcove, only really used by locals and not well-known amongst the tourists. Sure enough, the white sandy beach was relatively sheltered on all sides by the rocky cliffs, making you feel both so in-the-open and hidden.

You sighed as you settled onto the beach towel, soaking in the sun as Steve set up an umbrella, eventually finding his place beside you. The afternoon was relaxed and quiet, Steve allowing you space to read your book and sunbathe. You tried to think about the last time you let yourself relax like this - it was possible that you never had.

Eventually, the water just looked too inviting, the sun becoming just a bit too oppressively hot, and you found yourself wandering down to the shoreline. You let the water lap over your feet, the waves warmer than you expected. It was only after you had waded out up to your waist that you heard the water breaking behind you, a telltale sign that Steve was joining. Before you could turn to him, his arms were wrapped around your waist, making you jump and squeal.

“Steve!”

He spun you around in the water, making a big splash in your wake.

“Hey, beautiful,” he whispered. It was almost too affectionate, the way he said it, but you decided not to question it.

You just smiled, leaning in until his nose was brushing yours.

“Thank you, for this,” you murmured. “I know I’ve been saying it, but - I don’t think I’ve ever taken time to do anything like this, well… ever.”

His face softened a bit, and he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face.

“You’re welcome. Also, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

A devilish grin, then, “For this.”

Then, he was pulling you into his arms and under the water with him, causing you to yelp with surprise as you became submerged. When you broke the surface, he was laughing like a little kid, earning a playful smack in the arm from you, followed by an indignant splash. And, for even just a few moments, it was easy to forget about everything, other than how much fun you were having.

Yes - this trip was exactly what you needed.

********

The next morning, you woke up slowly, blinking in the bright sunlight filtering into the bedroom. It took you a moment to remember where you were - then, the sandy-colored walls, the soft linen, and the lingering smell of salt water and sunscreen reminded you.

You rolled over in bed, reaching across to find it disappointingly empty. You groaned, sitting up and rubbing the bleariness from your eyes. After scrounging around under the sheets, you eventually unearthed a t-shirt, the one you had pulled off of Steve last night. Shrugging it on, you padded through the house towards the back balcony, where the sounds of the outdoors filtered through the open door. Surely enough, there he was, his back to you as he set plates on the table. You wish you had a camera to capture it - the vision of Steve, shirtless with his disheveled morning hair, the sea sparkling behind him in the early sunlight. But, before you could appreciate it anymore, he seemingly sensed your presence and turned.

“Look who's finally risen!” he declared. “I was worried I’d have to wake you up before the food got cold!”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Got cold?”

“Yeah - I made a veggie frittata, I hope that’s alright. I got some pastries too, and fruit. The coffee’s almost done.”

“I - you cook?”

He stopped, crossing his arms.

“What, did you think I couldn’t?”

You shrugged, throwing up your hands in defense.

“No! I just - I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you cook before.”

You walked towards the table, accepting the chair he pulled out for you as you sank down and settled.

“When did you get all this stuff?” you asked, taking in the spread before you somewhat in awe.

“Oh, um, this morning - I went for a run, and stopped at the market on my way back. Town’s not far.”

You couldn’t even fight how impressed you were, shaking your head in disbelief.

“How long have you been up?”

“A few hours,” he said, shrugging. He cut into the frittata and started loading it onto one of the porcelain plates, passing it to you before sitting down. “I’m usually up pretty early, you know that. I wanted you to sleep in though, glad to know I didn’t wake you.”

“Right. Well, thanks.”

It almost felt like too much, him going to all these lengths for you. Yes, buying you a meal was one thing - he did it all the time. But cooking for you, and with such care… it felt like a different thing entirely. But, you accepted it gratefully, not even realizing just how hungry you were until you started digging in.

You could get used to mornings like this - breakfast on the beach view balcony, fresh coffee and breakfast, Steve’s knee brushing yours under the table. After a while, Steve leaned back and smiled, taking a sip out of his cup of coffee.

“So - are you feeling up for an adventure?” he asked, sounding slightly mischievous.

You raised an eyebrow, taking a bite out of a strawberry.

“What kind of adventure?”

“The kind you need a bathing suit for,” he said. “Preferably a bikini, but that’s really just for my benefit.”

You laughed. “Is that so?”

That was how you found yourself pulling on a bathing suit, pulled out of your bag along with a cover up and sun hat. Steve was already waiting for you when you emerged, a cooler bag slung over his shoulder, holding your beach bag out to you. You were finally starting to learn to relax, not even asking what he was planning - if it kept going the way this trip already had been, you knew he had a good surprise in store.

He took your arm in his, leading you out of the villa and to the car, tearing down the small dirt road until it became a larger, cobblestone one, descending down the hills into the main little town. The day was warm and bright, prompting Steve to lower the roof of the convertible. You let your eyes close, leaning back against the seat to feel the sun and breeze. You barely even noticed when Steve’s hand came to rest on your thigh.

You didn’t really open your eyes until the car slowed to a stop, realizing where you were. It was the pier, with boats of all different sizes and grandeur bobbing in the water. There was a bit of a hustle and bustle, with people loading and unloading, motors starting, dockhands untying boats and sending people off. You looked over at Steve quizzically, only to be met with a smile.

“You ready?”

“Are we -”

“Taking a boat out? Yes, yes we are,” he said, killing the ignition and hopping out of the car. He came around the other side to open the door and let you out before you had a chance to do it yourself. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes as he took your hand, deciding to indulge him.

He led you to the dock, and you couldn’t help but start eyeing the prospective boats waiting for you. Eventually, you stopped at a small motorboat, docked and ready to go.

“We - you’re driving?”

Steve nodded, throwing the bags onto the boat and hopping on.

“Yes - I’ve got a boating license.”

“Since when?”

“Since my dad made me get one when I was 16.”

Somehow, Steve Harrington remained an enigma - what else didn’t you know about him?

He turned, offering his hand up to you to help you on board.

“Do you trust me?”

You nodded, not even hesitating.

“Yes.”

“Good - then come on, I promise it’ll be fun.”

It was so easy to believe Steve, to trust him - when did that happen?

After passing some cash to the dockhand, the boat was untied and sent out, Steve manning the wheel as he headed out into the harbor. You leaned back in the leather seat behind him, holding onto your hat as the boat picked up speed. The waters gradually became less busy, the expanse of blue before you growing greater as you headed out to the sea.

“Where are we going?” you finally asked, practically yelling over the sound of the engine.

“A surprise,” he said.

“Of course.”

This earned a chuckle from him, followed by a gesture towards the cooler pack.

“By the way - I packed some drinks, if you want them. And food, too, but that’s for later.”

You grinned, unzipping it and pulling out a bottle of rose, still cold and wet with condensation. You poured it into a plastic cup that you found in the bag, smiling endearingly at the thought of Steve doing all of this - shopping, planning, packing, doing everything with you in mind. You sighed, sipping your wine as the boat cut through the waves, the breeze blowing through your hair. Finally, you reached what you presumed was your destination: a smaller island came into view, surrounded by big rocky outcroppings sticking out of the water. You couldn’t even see any other boats docked around it.

“Where are we?” you asked, standing as the boat slowed to a stop. Steve threw the anchor down, with more ease than you expected.

“It’s called Sand City,” he said, propping a leg up on the boat’s edge as he tied the knot. “Well, that’s what locals call it - I’m not sure what it’s actually called. But, barely anyone knows about it - if I had to guess, we’re probably the only ones here.”

You glanced over at the rocky beach - from what you could see, there wasn’t another soul.

“Knowing you, you probably rented out the place,” you joked.

Steve chuckled. “I mean, if I could, I definitely would’ve.”

You laughed, but when he didn’t, you stopped.

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“Completely.”

You came up next to him, glancing over the side of the boat - the water was crystal clear, the current gentle and calm.

“So, how do we get out there?” you asked.

Steve grinned, pulling his shirt up over his head in one movement.

“We swim.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you dove in after him, the water a relaxing relief from the sun. The pair of you made your way to the shore rather quickly, pulling yourselves out of the water and onto the beach. Here, there wasn;t much of the soft white sand that you had seen on the main island. Instead, the coast was rocky, Steve taking your hand as he helped you weave through to spare your bare feet from the brunt of it.

“You know, for a place called ‘Sand City’ - there’s not a lot of sand,” you observed, following Steve up the beach.

“There’s a reason for that,” Steve said, leading you further up the beach. “See, like a hundred years ago, this place was used for sand mining - and it was a major port. But, they drained the resources, and couldn’t develop anything. See?”

He gestured further down the shoreline. Sure enough, in the distance there were larger wooden posts sticking out of the water, worn and dull with time.

“Those used to be the dock, before it collapsed. But, since there’s a steep dropoff after the sandbar, people like to dock their boats and make day trips out here. Like us, for example,” Steve explained.

“How do you know all this?” you asked, tone laced with surprise.

“I did some research,” he said, shrugging.

“Why?”

“Honestly? I wanted to impress you,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly.

You laughed, louder than you meant to.

“What?” he asked indignantly, stopping in his tracks.

“Nothing! It’s just kind of cute that you’re trying to impress me, I guess.”

“Shut up,” he muttered.

You stayed a few steps behind him, smiling to yourself. This was maybe the most relaxed you had ever seen Steve - he seemed younger, almost boyish. You wondered if this is what he was like, years before you met him. When he was your age, was he less hardened? Did he have less walls around him? You had to assume he did.

At one point, he leaned down to pick up a pebble, skipping it across the water.

“Nice, that skipped like, five times,” you remarked.

“You try,” he said, extending a flat pebble to you.

“I’m not any good at this,” you confessed.

“I’ll help you, here -”

He placed the stone gently in your palm, his hand engulfing yours.

“Just follow through like this, and kind of flick your wrist.”

You did your best to ignore how your skin tingled at his touch, following through on his guidance a few times before finally letting go. The stone skimmed the water’s surface, skipping once, before plopping in.

You threw your hands up in the air in celebration.

“Okay, I know that wasn’t much, but - better than anything I’ve done before!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around Steve’s neck.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, and you pulled away quickly. Before he could say anything, you gestured for him to keep leading the way.

******

The rest of the afternoon was a bit of a blur. Steve led you up the island to a thatch of trees, where you came across the old ruins of a submarine. You spent a while investigating it, grabbing a fresh peach hanging off of the trees. You and Steve shared it, eventually returning to the water and swimming out to one of the rocks past the sandbar. You let yourself lay out and sunbathe, Steve by your side. Eventually, though, the one peach you had split didn’t seem to tide you over, your stomach grumbling. You groaned.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got a picnic on the boat,” Steve assured. “Want to head back?”

You agreed, welcoming the cool water as you dove back in, clambering back up onto the motorboat. Steve produced a true spread from the cooler, of crackers, cheeses, and grapes, topped off with a bottle of white wine to split. It was so idyllic, floating in the middle of the ocean, with the fresh charcuterie that Steve had so carefully packed for you. After you were full and satiated, you couldn’t help it - you had to start touching Steve. You found it hard to keep your hands off of him, tracing his constellation of moles on his back beneath the sun, both of you laying across a towel. You began to trace letters and words, asking him to guess - Steve’s name, your own, smiley faces and stars, anything you could think of. Steve, as it turned out, was shit when it came to guessing.

You found yourself feeling just a bit mischievous, deciding to press your lips between his shoulder blades instead.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, voice a bit rougher than it had been.

“What’s the chance of another boat passing us here?” you asked.

“Uh - minimal. Really slim, we’re pretty isolated,” he answered quickly.

“Good,” you whispered. “Because I wanna ride you, if you’ll let me.”

And he did, scrambling onto his back, gripping onto your hips as you straddled him. Your bathing suits were shed in a matter of moments, and you wasted no time in sinking onto him. The boat rocked precariously, but it was part of the thrill - Steve came undone in a matter of minutes, cumming deep inside of you. You followed shortly after, convulsing around him with your head thrown back, underneath the bright afternoon sun.

*******

The next few days passed in a blissful blur - Steve took you all around the island. One day, he rented a Vespa, having you wrap your arms around his waist and hold on tightly as he drove you around to the other side, where a music and art festival was happening. He followed you around, dancing with you and buying you whatever you wanted from the vendors, insisting that you picked out whatever you wanted. Used books, fresh pastries, a sunhat, handmade mosaics, seashell earrings - whatever caught your interest.

One of the items you picked up was a pack of disposable waterproof cameras, which you immediately made quick use of. You began snapping photos of the town, the ocean views, and most of all, Steve. You caught candids of Steve walking down the street, running his hands through his hair, or his side profile, when he wasn’t paying attention. You got him to pose on occasion too, insisting on taking pictures at each new site you visited. Soon, Steve took one of the cameras, playing your own game and sneaking photos of you throughout the trip.

“Pose for me, baby, for the memories,” he insisted, pulling back to capture you every chance he got.

You and Steve made use of the villa, too. On the third day, you woke up to the sound of rain pattering on the roof. Steve bemoaned the inclement weather, but you just snuggled further under the covers.

“What are we going to do, then?” Steve grumbled.

“We can just stay here… in bed… all day,” you replied, pressing a kiss to his neck.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm hm - actually, today’s a perfect day to practice your Italian,” you added, smirking.

“What do you -”

“Here’s the deal,” you said, sinking a bit further below the covers. “I’m going to quiz you on what I’ve taught you so far - if you get it right, I keep sucking you off. You get it wrong, though… I stop, until the next one you get right. What do you say?”

You spent that morning edging Steve, who quickly became a whimpering mess at your mercy. His language retention, it turned out, wasn’t great. Every time he screwed up an Italian word or phrase, you pulled your lips off his cock, looking up at him with disappointment.

When he finally did cum, he begged to do it all over your tits, which you obliged. That, of course, led to a bath in the clawfoot tub, where Steve happily joined you, insisting on reciprocating. The rainy day, as it turned out, wasn’t a waste at all.

Another day, he took you out on a small ferry cruise to go snorkeling. You both dove through the shallows, exploring coral reefs and swimming through schools of fish. You were fairly certain that you’d never get over the color of the sea here - the bright, aquamarine water was stunning, and you were certain that if it was flatter underneath, you’d be able to see through the ocean for miles. You snapped a few photos underwater, hoping that they’d reflect what it looked like in-person. You doubted it, though. At one point, when you both broke the surface and climbed back onto the rowboat you had taken out, Steve was holding a lump of sand in his hand.

“What is that?”

He smiled, shaking it off under the water to reveal what looked like a gray rock. You furrowed your brow, confusion only growing and Steve produced a pocket knife. He cut into it along the edge - it was an oyster.

“In the mood for shellfish, Harrington?”

He just shook his head, prying the shell open. He squinted, then smiled.

“Well, looks like I’ve got some pretty good luck today!”

Before you could ask what he meant, he reached into the shell and pulled out -

“Is that a pearl?” you asked, eyes widening.

He nodded enthusiastically, holding it out to you.

“For you.”

You shook your head.

“No, Steve - do you know how rare that is? Just to find a natural pearl? I shouldn’t -”

“I was hoping to find one, just for you,” he assured. “Seriously - I want you to have it.”

You took it hesitantly, turning the small white stone in your hand. It was so small, perfectly round, with a few grains of sand still clinging to it. You shook your head incredulously.

“I - thank you,” you whispered. You fished your wallet out of your beach bag, tucking the pearl safely inside.

******

The evenings were filled with sunsets and wine, Steve insisting on bringing you to the best restaurants that the island had to offer. When you returned to the villa, you would take a dip in the pool - bathing suits optional. That’s why, by the time your actual birthday came around, it wasn’t a surprise that you were physically exhausted.

The morning of your birthday came on a Saturday, the last full day of your trip. You had attempted to stay up until midnight on Friday to properly ring it in, but you were so exhausted from the sun and copious amounts of wine consumed during the day that you were asleep before 11.

That night, you dreamed. Often, your dreams weren’t very vivid. If you remembered them at all when you woke up, there wasn’t really anything concrete. And, you supposed, this wasn’t really any different. You felt warm, only really seeing flashes of golden light, dancing behind your eyelids like stars. Your skin tingled, and you were just relaxed. You sighed in contentment, suddenly feeling your brow furrow at the realization that you could feel the mattress you were lying on, the soft sheets fisted in your fingers.

You weren’t sleeping anymore, not completely. You weren’t exactly sure when you had stopped, crossing the line between dreaming and consciousness. But suddenly, you were acutely aware of the air on your skin, the quickening of your breath, and, most notably, the feeling of warm lips pressed to your skin.

“Mm - Steve?” you grumbled, voice still groggy from sleep.

“G’morning, birthday girl,” he murmured from below the sheets, pressing a kiss to your navel.

“What’re you -”

“I wanted to make today extra special,” he whispered. “Starting right now.”

He continued to pepper kisses across your abdomen, traveling further down, down, down -

“Fuck,” you gasped as his breath ghosted over your bare cunt. “Steve -”

“Shhh, baby,” he whispered. “Today’s all about you - just relax, okay?”

Anything else that you wanted to say died on your tongue, your breath hitching as soon as his mouth made contact with your core. He licked a stripe up your slit, his tongue settling to swirl around your clit.

“Steve! Oh, shit - just like that. Oh my god -”

You felt your back arch as your hips bucked up to meet his mouth. His fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, spread wide for him as he devoured you.

Soon, one of his hands wandered from your thigh, gathering your slick as he circled your entrance.

You moaned, eyes squeezed shut as you threw your head back.

“Please, Steve,” you whined. He paused for a moment.

“Please what?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He started sucking, and you already shivered at the thought of him leaving a mark there, a reminder for later.

“Please - your fingers,” you begged.

“What about them?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Inside me - please - fuck me with your fingers,” you exclaimed.

“If you insist, darling.”

That was your only warning. He plunged two fingers into your sopping entrance, returning his tongue to your clit. You practically screamed, writhing in the sheets as he loved on you in the best way he knew how.

He kissed and licked at your cunt like he was worshiping it. He grinned against your skin at the sound of your whines when he added a third finger, pumping in and out of you at an unrelenting pace.

You found your own hands wandering, looking to grab onto something, anything. Between his ministrations, you heard Steve murmur, “Your tits, baby.”

“What?”

“Touch your tits, sweetheart, you know you want to.”

You didn’t even question it, obeying as your hands found their way to your breasts. You cupped and palmed them, moaning at the added stimulation as Steve continued to eat you out.

“I’m close,” you breathed, feeling your face flush, your heart thudding in your chest. There was pressure building in your core, ready to snap at any moment. You continued feeling your tits, toying with your nipples and squeezing at the soft flesh.

Your orgasm felt like a dam breaking. You screamed Steve’s name as the pleasure washed over you, intense and white-hot like a tsunami. He worked you through your high, continuing to lap and lick at you, gradually slowing down as your whole body shook. By the time he removed his fingers from you, you were a mess. You felt boneless, certain you’d sink all the way through the mattress if you weren’t careful.

Your breathing was deep and labored, not even capable of forming a coherent thought as Steve pressed soft kisses to your inner thigh. Just as he had started, he kissed his way back up your body - your stomach, your breasts, sternum, collarbone, neck - and, finally, your lips. You still faintly tasted yourself on him, and sighed into his mouth.

After several moments, you finally spoke.

“Jesus Christ, Steve.”

“So, that was good?” he asked.

You turned your cheek down to your pillow, bringing you face-to-face with the man lying next to you.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I - I think that was the hardest I’ve ever cum in my life,” you admitted.

Steve practically puffed up with pride, fighting a smile.

“Is that so?”

You reached across the bed, running your fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, really. Best birthday ever.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s barely started yet!”

“Still - that would’ve made it just perfect, no need to do anything else.”

He laughed, throwing his head back against the pillow.

“Well, that’s definitely not all I have planned. We’ve got a whole day ahead of us.”

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Of course we do. Well, if that’s the case, I’m going to take a shower.”

You rolled out of bed and padded towards the bathroom, not even bothering with the fact that you were stark nude. You felt Steve’s eyes practically burning a hole through you, prompting you to cast a glance over your shoulder.

“I might need help, you know,” you said suggestively.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

********

Most of the day passed without a hitch. In fact, you would call it perfect. Almost, at least. You had breakfast on the balcony, the morning relatively slow and relaxed. Then, Steve took you to the sea, renting another boat until you reached what you learned to be Aragonese Castle. The ruins sat on a volcanic rock formation, accessible via a footbridge going across the water. On the island, you explored the castle, marveling at the sight from the top. You stood atop the structure, something older than you could even comprehend, staring out across the sparkling sea. Steve took your camera, snapping a few photos of you before you noticed.

“Come on, birthday girl, pose for me,” he begged with his go-to line, smiling as you grinned and threw your hands up in the air for the camera.

After, you took the boat around the coast to another smaller island, making your way up to the little village there. Steve made good on his word, and as you wandered through the market, did his best to name all the items in Italian. Every time he got something right, you kissed him. For everything he got wrong, he had to buy you something from that vendor. In the end, it was working out much better for you, your bag filling more and more as you walked through.

You both walked along the beach, finding yourselves carrying your shoes as you let the water wash over your feet on the shoreline. The afternoon waned to the early evening, the sun moving from beating on your backs to golden, slowly sinking towards the horizon. You had returned to the main island, Steve insisting on returning home briefly to change out of beach clothes. You followed his lead, trusting whatever he had planned. As you were throwing on some makeup, you barely noticed him come into the bathroom behind you, too focused on yourself in the mirror.

“So,” he started, leaning against the doorframe. “I know we haven’t exactly had an occasion for something like this yet, but I had this made for you - I was kind of hoping you’d wear it tonight.”

He held up a clothing hanger, shrouded in a garment bag. You smiled at him through the mirror, bounding over excitedly to unzip and look at what was inside.

“I - wow.”

“Put it on for me?” he asked. “It’s part of your birthday present.”

You obliged, kicking him out of the room, insisting that you wanted him to be surprised. You slipped on the dress easily, your breath catching in your throat as soon as you saw yourself in the mirror.

It was a vibrant, deep red, made of some kind of shimmering silk. Somehow, it both flowed over you and hugged you in all the right places - more than anything else Steve had gotten made for you, this had to have been done with you in mind. Somehow, you were certain it was the best you had ever looked. Valentina had outdone herself.

You opened the door slowly, mainly for dramatic effect. Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a suit jacket over his button-down, the first few buttons notably undone. At the sight of you, he sat up quickly. His eyes widened, looking you up and down as he scrambled to his feet.

“Well, what do you think?” you asked.

It took Steve a moment to say anything, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he searched for words. Then, softly:

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You felt your face heat, the blood rushing to your head creating a dull roar in your ears.

“You’re a liar,” you insisted.

“With you? Never.”

“Well, just one thing,” you said, coming closer to him before turning around. “I need help zipping it up.”

You felt Steve’s hands at the small of your back, pulling the zipper up slowly. His fingers brushed your exposed skin on the way up. And, when he finally reached the top, he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“I have something else for you,” he whispered in your ear. Before you could ask, you felt something cold around your neck, a weight resting against your sternum. Your hand came up to touch it - a necklace. A ruby pendant to match the dress, the chain lined delicately with diamonds.

“Steve-” you said, turning to face him.

“Don’t say anything,” he said, beating you to what you were about to say.

“But - you’ve already put together this whole trip… I can’t -”

“You only turn 21 once,” he said. “It’s a big deal, you know.”

“Maybe in the States - not really so much here -”

“I guess that’s why I wanted to make it special, just for you,” he whispered. “Will you let me?”

His eyes were so soft, begging you to just say yes, and your chest suddenly felt warm.

“Thank you,” you finally said. “Really.”

Then, he was kissing you. It wasn’t hungry, or heated, or demanding. It was soft and slow. When he pulled away, hand cupping your jaw, it felt like you should say something else - but what? Before you could decide what it should be, he was holding out an arm to you. You hooked yours through it, letting him lead the way.

Sunset hadn’t happened yet, but it was probably soon - the sky was bathed in the deep golden of the sun, the day aging and giving way to the evening soon enough. You took the Ferrari, the top down as Steve drove down the hill and into town.

The place Steve had reserved for dinner was tucked into the mountain, made of old stone and terraced into the Earth. You were on the rooftop, your table set out so that you had a view of the city below, and the sea beyond. The sky was turning shades of orange and pink, promising a stunning sunset.

“Steve,” you started once you were settled into your chair, “this place - it’s stunning.”

You couldn’t even hide your awe, realizing for maybe the hundredth time that week just how lucky you were.

“Just wait until sunset,” he said. “This is the most in-demand restaurant on the island.”

“And you got a reservation?” you asked, perusing the wine menu.

“I pulled some strings.”

“Naturally.”

You brought your feet to rest on top of his under the table.

After ordering a bottle of wine, Steve reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his tobacco and rolling papers.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he said.

“As long as you share,” you replied, grinning as he started rolling a second cigarette.

As you lit yours up and took a deep inhale, you allowed a moment to fully take in the sight of Steve.

The last week had changed him. You thought about him, and how he had said that this was the first time he had taken a vacation from work. His skin was tanned, his hair a bit lighter from the time in the sun. It had grown a bit longer, too, since you’d first met him.

As he breathed out smoke, donning sunglasses and bathed in the golden light of dusk, you felt your chest ache. For better or for worse, Steve Harrington has changed your life.

After enjoying a decadent meal of seafood, flatbreads, and pasta, all shared with Steve, it was properly dark out. The only light came from the strong lights hanging around the patio, and the candlelight on the table. You were a bit tipsy from the shared bottle of wine, feeling warm and hazy. It was during dessert, as you were sipping a cappuccino and tasting your tiramisu, that Steve cleared his throat.

“So, I have one more present for you,” he announced, straightening up in his chair.

“Steve - no.”

“But -”

“You’ve already gotten me the dress, the necklace, this entire trip. And, well… everything else.”

The arrangement, which you two barely spoke of anymore. At least, not directly. He just sighed, pulling an envelope out of his pocket and sliding it across the table to you.

“It’s the last thing, I promise - please?”

You stared at him for a moment before finally conceding. Grabbing the envelope, you tore it open, pulling out the piece of paper inside. You stared at it for a moment, squinting in the dim candlelight. It was a map - a map of the night sky. You vaguely recognized it, thanks to the astronomy class you had to take during your first year of school.

“It’s - the sky?”

“Well, it’s a certificate, for proof.”

“Proof of what?”

He pointed to the text at the top. You read it once. Twice. Five times. You felt your eyes widen, your mouth hanging open.

“Did you - did you name a star after me?”

Steve nodded slowly, assessing your reaction.

“Yes. Well, specifically - it’s kind of stupid, but… it’s a star that’s over Rome in late May, right around when we met. I don’t know, I just thought - it was just an idea.”

When your eyes met his again, he was asking a silent question - expectant, nervous, his gaze asking, do you like it?

It was then that it hit you. It was like a train, knocking the breath out of you. And, without thinking, you said it:

“I’m in love with you.”

As soon as it tumbled out, you swore your heart stopped. Everything was spinning, and you were certain you were going to be sick. But, after an agonizing moment, Steve just raised an eyebrow.

“So, am I supposed to know what that one means?”

“I - what?”

“Are you quizzing me again?”

A wave of relief washed over you - you had said it in Italian. What Steve had heard was sono innamorato di te. You let out a deep breath, laughing nervously.

“Oh - yes. Yeah!”

“Okay - what does it mean?”

“Just, um - it means I love it. The gift, I mean. It… it was really thoughtful.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing in his chair.

“Oh, good. I’m glad. I wasn’t sure what you’d think, to be honest.”

You stared down at the paper, avoiding his eyes. You did your best to just focus on the page, hoping he couldn’t tell that your hands were shaking.

“No - it’s great. Thank you, really.”

You forced a smile, meeting his eyes again. Then, you stood up suddenly, your chair sliding out behind you. Concern flickered across his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Me? Yeah, I just - I need to use the ladies’ room,” you mumbled. You took a step towards him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before heading downstairs to the lower part of the restaurant.

As soon as you were locked in the bathroom, you braced yourself on the sink. You did your best to steady your breathing, gripping to porcelain for dear life. That was a close call - too close. You immediately started chastising yourself - you were an idiot, a fool. Your one job was to not fall for him. It was the most important part of the agreement. Wasn’t the whole point of this to avoid complications, and heartbreak?

You took a deep breath, assessing the facts:

You loved Steve Harrington.

You weren’t supposed to love Steve Harrington.

Now, every time you were with him, you’d be lying to his face

In a month, he’d be out of your life.

You felt nauseous, the room starting to spin. This couldn’t be happening. But, it was. You stared at yourself in the mirror - your eyes were glassy, threatening to break into full-on tears at any moment. No, you couldn’t do that - you weren’t going to ruin this perfect day, perfect week. This was so you, to ruin everything for yourself at the last minute. You gathered yourself, fighting the urge to cry. You were going to make this work - you had to. Steve never had to know how you were feeling, how much you had fucked this whole thing up. So, you straightened yourself up, doing your best to regain composure, and headed back upstairs to the table.

Steve visibly relaxed when he saw you approaching.

“Everything okay?” he asked as you slid into your chair.

“Oh - yeah. All good, it’s just - I’m stuffed!” you declared, laughing half-heartedly. “Seriously, this was delicious, but - I can’t eat or drink anything else.”

Steve nodded. “Oh, no problem - I can get the check.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You had to seem normal - to make yourself feel normal. Nothing had to change between you two, as far as you were concerned.

So, you let Steve take you home, your hand on his leg making him drive the car borderline recklessly. You both stumbled through the door of the villa, shedding one another of your clothes like your lives depended on it.

Maybe you were reading too much into it, or maybe something truly had shifted. More likely, the reality was somewhere in the middle. But, the sex wasn’t desperate, or urgent. You took your time with one another, exploring each other’s bodies like it was the last time you’d ever do so. Steve held you close, kissing every inch of you, his lips whispering prayers and sweet nothings into your skin.

You gave it all back to him, thanking him for everything he’s done for you with filthy words whispered in his ear, telling him how good he was making you feel.

He sucked bruises into your skin, and you left scratches down his back. When you came, it was together, the pleasure peaking and flowing through both of you in unison. After, he laid on top of you, your fingers running gently through his hair as you stared at the ceiling. You just let yourself bathe in the afterglow, hanging on to Steve like he’d disappear if you didn’t.

It was later, after your head had settled onto his chest with his arms wrapped around you, that he finally spoke.

“So - did you have a good birthday?”

“Mm,” you hummed blissfully. His heartbeat thudded steadily against your ear, grounding you.

“Best birthday I ever had,” you added.

“Really?”

“Yes,” you affirmed. “You - you made me feel special. I don’t think anyone’s bothered to do that before, not like this.”

A pause.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Steve said solemnly. “You deserve better.”

You shook your head, burying your face further into his chest.

“You’ve made up for that,” you assured him. “Trust me.”

His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“Good,” he said. “I mean, we’re doing round two next weekend, with Robin’s not-surprise party.”

You groaned.

“I forgot about that.”

“It’s only because she loves you, you know.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat at the word. You immediately felt stupid for even letting that happen, as if it was voluntary.

“Yeah, she does,” you conceded.

“I don’t want this trip to end,” Steve admitted. His voice was lower, words slurring a bit. You realized that his breathing had slowed down considerably - he was drifting.

“Me neither,” you admitted. “Let’s just stay forever.”

It sounded like a joke, earning a low chuckle from him. It didn’t feel like one, though.

“Whatever you want,” he murmured.

After a few moments, Steve went completely silent. His heartbeat was slower, and you sighed, rolling over to stare at the ceiling.

Without him to distract you, your mind started racing. The anxiety was gone - no, the feeling now was pure and utter dread. But, the most horrible part was when you glanced over at the man beside you - all you felt was butterflies, churning in your stomach like some sweet sickness.

You stared at Steve for a while - the rise and fall of his chest, his disheveled hair, the way the moonlight cast over his form, highlighting his silhouette.

“Hey, Steve? You awake?” you whispered through the darkness. No response.

You brought yourself up onto your elbow, leaning in just a bit closer. You’d never be able to tell him to his face, but this was the closest you’d get - maybe you just needed to get it out of your system. At least, that was what you told yourself.

“I love you, Steve,” you whispered. No response.

You promptly turned over under the covers, burying your face in the pillow. And, finally, the tears came. Fast and hot, they leaked onto the pillow, marking it like acid as you did your best to sob silently.

You were fucked. Completely and utterly ruined. For the first time in ages, you cried yourself to sleep. Before you finally drifted off, one question was on your mind:

What were you going to do when Steve left for good?

author's note: hi everyone! Thanks for your patience for this update! Work has been kicking my ass, and it's been harder to make time to write. Before anyone says anything, no, I don't speak Italian, nor have I been to Italy. I did my best, but some details were fabricated for the story, so if it's not accurate - oh well! Thanks to everyone for all the kind messages, and to my bestie Em for the endless inspiration. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!

1K notes · View notes

emsgoodthinkin · 5 months

Text

smut-fluff-angst (includes other ST characters) [MDNI]

As long as I’m with you- Steve wakes up to another bad night you’ve had (tw)

King Steve doesn’t exist- (Steddie) ft. Billy Hargrove

Steve Harringtons deepest secret gets revealed, but will the freak accept him? Will he runaway from him like everyone else? Does size really matter?

Shy my ass - (short) Steve Harrington x you - you’ve always imagined riding your boyfriends big nose

Bio- (short) Steve Harrington x you - Steve watching you fuck your self on his c*ck

The band-aid to my wounds- Older Eddie fic (ft. Steve x kurt kunkle x reader)

After stumbling into an old barn after being stranded by your freshly new ex boyfriend, you wake up strangely in a room..that isn't yours..

Headcanons / blurbs / imagines

Trans Steve getting his groove back

Convincing Steve to take your v-card

Hot and bothered by their black gf (steddie)

Grinding yourself innocent perv self on Steve’s hand

Struggling to get wet (steddie)

Soft Stevie

Perv cyclist Steve

Steve’s nickname 4 u

Older Steve loves a bush

Fucking Steve while thinking about Eddie

Dilf Steve discovers new kinks

(Steddie) helping chronically ill reader feel better

Sugar daddy Steve moodboard

Sweater weather moodboard, strangers to lovers

Dancing with R&B Steve

Angelic Stancy

Beefy Steve

Hunt me down

Bi Steve

Businessman or dancer Steve imagine

Smash? Smash.

———— extras

Billy Hargrove loves plus size women

Dom Nancy / fruity four headcanons

Robins an angel

Argyles favorite positions

⤬ reblogs, comments & likes are appreciated ⤬

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italiansteebie · 10 months

Text

Modern Steve was never allowed to watch SpongeBob. His parents always said that it would rot his brain, and he was too afraid to test that rule even when they weren't home because he's heard something about cameras around the house, and he was not going to get in trouble.

Modern Eddie was practically raised on SpongeBob and got his sense of humor from it. He thought every episode from 1999-2007 was an animation masterpiece and he wasn't afraid to admit he still watched it as an adult. (as much of an adult you can be at 21)

Eddie catches wind that Steve has never watched SpongeBob and thinks it's an absolute travesty, so one of their first dates consists of them eating pizza on the couch and watching the first season of SpongeBob.

Steve loves it.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #modern eddie munson #modern steve harrington #modern steddie #steddie things #steddie #steddie thoughts #steve harrington headcanons

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rafescurtainbangz · 21 days

Text

SCREAM x Stranger Things

(Chapter 3 & 4; drop 2 of 7) +18

Harrington | Hargrove | Munson

Minor DNI

Billy Hargrove x OC

Steve Harrington x OC

Eddie Munson x OC

4.8 K

written with my beautiful wifey and bestie @voyeurmunson

dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx

Warnings: Graphic violence/gore, SMUT, swearing, drinking, major character death, drug usage

Public oral sex (male receiving), rough oral, boot riding, pet names, semi-public oral sex (female receiving), cheating, unprotected p in v, fingering

Chapter 1 - 2 LINK

Chapter III - The Barn

Heidi's POV:

The Monday before Halloween...

"Jim... we need this," you meet his hardened gaze. He shakes his head and sucks his teeth, turning his attention to the open window. "Just let us stay open until ten at least, Hop. This is our busiest time of the year. This is how we make money. Do you know how many people we have on payroll?" You ramble; your voice coming out a little more manic than you would've hoped.

"Heidi..."

"Yes, Jim."

"Three people died here... He killed a Cunningham. And, a Carver... Those names hold weight in this town. People aren't just gonna forget what happened to them overnight."

"No one is asking them to forget, Jim." You shut your eyes softly, taking a deep breath; pressing your air out slowly.

The judgment is so apparent in his eyes. Jim doesn't understand, and if he doesn't; no one else will.

"I know this is callous. And, I know that those families just lost their loved ones. I'm a mom, Hop. I couldn't imagine losing my kids... like that." You swallow stiffly, clearing the lump in your throat. "I saw them... All three victims. And, I'll never get that out of my head... But, you have the guy, Jim. You have someone behind bars. Our business can't just stop..."

"We all know Alfie didn't do it. The man's a lunatic; but, he's basically harmless. He just got released this afternoon."

"Why?"

"Because there was CCTV footage of him stumbling outside of Melvald's at the time of the murders, Heidi."

"Jesus Christ," you sigh.

"You've known that man for twenty-plus years. He's a fuckin' kook; but, he's no killer."

"Please..." You ask, pitifully. Hopper shakes his head, quickly burying it in his hand; grumbling in frustration as he tries his best to stay firm. "I have a plan, Jim... We're still going to lose a lot. I mean a lot of money... but, it will be something. No hayride... No haunted house."

Jim peers at you with weary eyes; rolling them away. "And how are you gonna manage that, Jones?"

You hold back a hopeful smile; bringing out a slip of paper with your agenda, sliding it his way. "No one can get into the grounds without coming through the main gates. We will account for everyone that comes in and out; body searches, heavy police presence, closing at ten."

"You said no hayride; no haunted house, Heidi."

"We'll shut them down. Our scare actors can walk through the main area after 7 PM when most of the young families have left an-"

"The killer was a masked man... Did you forget that part? You can't be serious? He cuts you short, irritation ever-present in his tone.

"I am," you snip.

"Unbelievable. He slumps down in his seat, pitching his head back; mumbling in vexation yet again.

"Jim... You need to understand that I'm playing nice because you and I are best friends. I have known you for thirty-four years..."

"Best? And, Thirty-three," he huffs; resting a dart between his lips, striking a light.

"Well, that's rude... And sorry, thirty-three," you mumble. "But, you know as well as I do, the second this was no longer an active crime scene, I was given the green light for business as usual. All I had to do was stick to the eleven PM curfew just like everyone else."

"Heidi-"

"I'm working with you, Jim. Why aren't you working with me?"

He crosses his arms tightly across his chest, yielding his gaze to the window once more. You can see that he wants to tell you off. If you were anyone else, he probably would.

"I will personally pay for security, Ji-"

"Fine!" He shouts; tossing his hands up in defeat. "Where the hell is your husband by the way?"

"I don't know where Alex is. He's your partner, Hop. Aren't you supposed to know?" You challenge; taking your paper off his hands. "So, we're on for tonight?"

"You're killin' me, Jones," he murmurs.

"That a yes?"

"Yes," he bemoans through his exhales; two steady streams of smoke pouring through his nostrils. Hopper stamps out his cigarette dramatically as he shoots you a side-eye. "I'll send a few cars over at sunset. And, we may be best friends; but, you are at the very top of my shit list."

"Thank you," you beam; quickly reaching for your phone and schedule, mentally preparing yourself to call back all the staff you called off.

"Like you said, Heidi... You can do whatever you want," he clips as he slides his arms into his leather sheriff's jacket. "You're just playin' nice," Hopper mocks your tone; eyes, slicing in your direction.

"You pushed me," you chuckle; gliding your finger along the row of names to call.

"Bullshit."

You give him a sweet smile; making him look back at you annoyedly.

"What?" He scoffs.

"Nothin' Hop. I appreciate you helping me out. I just wanted your support on all this-"

"I support none of this!" He clamors; fishing for another cigarette. "Just so you are aware."

"Nothing is going to happen," you assure; glancing at the first name on the list. Billy Hargrove. "Can I walk you out?"

"Why are you tryin' to be sweet to me now, Jones," he backchats; trudging toward the exit.

"That's what best friends do, Jim," you chuckle; taking the lead, drawing the door open for him. "Plus, I need to talk to the grounds crew." He gives you a little nod, stepping into the hallway.

"Seven nights, Jones..."

"Seven nights of frights, Hop. Then, we're on to Christmas trees."

"What about Thanksgiving?"

"Nobody gives a shit about that," you breathe, making Jim chuckle as you tug open the front door.

Leaves roll across the porch; a crisp fall chill drifting through the air. Hopper's right. We have seven nights... Seven nights to avoid another disaster. Seven nights to make up for the financial hit we already took. Seven nights to prove that that was a fuckin' fluke.

"She works here?" Hopper questions; pointing his lit cigarette toward the barn. The two of you watch as a leggy brunette wanders up the hill. "What about those two over there?" He gestures in the opposite direction; the pair of you watching as a couple disappears, heading toward the woods. "Welp. Looks like people are already comin' in unaccounted for," he grunts. "That one's Heather Holloway, by the way. No way she could have done it. And, those two. That's-"

"Nancy and Jonathan," you finish his sentence, watching as they change course; hiking toward the haunted house.

"Tighten your ship, Jones," he warns; flicking his cigarette butt to the pavement. Heather rounds the corner, disappearing inside as you try your best to mask the emotions.

"You doin' okay, Heidi?" Jim queries; making your stomach sink.

"Mhmm... Just trying to think of ways to keep that from happening," you subsist; flicking your eyes back in his path.

"I'll send over a car to sit at the gate, Heidi," he gripes; climbing back into his patrol truck.

"Thank you, Hop." You shout; walking back inside. "Seven days!"

"Can't come soon enough, Jones."

Heather's POV:

"Billy? Billy Hargrove!" You sing, breathily.

There's a rustling aloft, the shuffling of work boots against the weathered wooden floor. "Holloway? That you, sweetheart?" He croons; voice reverberating through the airy space.

Fuck... That voice.

"Hey, Bills." You walk across the creaky foundation, following the sound of his voice. Grabbing the rungs of the ladder, you look up. The warm sun pours through the little window, limiting your view.

"I'll be down there in a sec."

"I can come up," you smile; climbing carefully up the old loft ladder.

"Be careful, sweetheart. This barn is old as shit."

There he is. You rise into the loft, trying your best to fight your smile as you take him in; Billy's blonde curls disheveled; a well-loved white tee and blue jeans practically painted on his frame, hugging him in all the right places.

He looks different... Better even. I mean, don't get me wrong, seeing Billy in red swim trunks was a sight to see; but, this is next level... You let out a dizzy giggle; cheeks pinched pink.

He turns around, meeting your gaze; his blue sparkling eyes set on yours. Billy wipes his arm across his brow, rubbing out a lick of sweat.

"Well, shit. You're prettier every time I see you, Holloway," he flirts; grabbing a hay bale by the strings; muscles flexing tight as he drops it to the bottom floor. "I got two more. Then, I can take a break. Alright?"

"Want some help?" You ask, sweetly. He lifts an eyebrow in your direction, chuckling lightly.

"It's like fifty pounds, Heather. And, dressed like that? You look too good for this shit." He gives you a cheeky wink before lobbing another bale. "Whatcha doin' here? I thought you had class."

"You don't wanna see me?" You sigh; putting on your best puppy dog eyes. He shakes his head and laughs; finishing off his job, the last bale landing with a thud.

"We both know that's not true."

"It's Monday, Bills. I don't have classes on Monday."

"Damn," he grumbles in exhaustion; grabbing a seat close by. You slide to his side, making his smile spread wider. "There's been so much goin' on here I lost track," he softens his tone; eyes falling to your glossed lips, nipping his own.

"That why you're not textin' me back, Bills?" You whisper.

Billy matches your gaze, making your heart race. "I'd never ignore you, Heather."

"Never?"

"I thought we were casual, Holloway," he teases. "You don't have a couple guys at ISU takin' up your time-"

"No. I do," you taunt, cutting him short. Billy gives you a little scowl; scrunching his nose. "Jealous, Hargrove?"

"Nah." You rest your hand on his thigh, leaning in slightly; letting it glide a little higher. He lets out a gravelly laugh, throwing his gaze down to his body as he slips off his work gloves. "I'm pretty dirty, Heather. You sure?"

"I don't give a shit about that, Bills."

"Get over here," he rasps.

You sling your thigh over, following Billy's lead as he takes hold of your hips. He guides you down onto his lap, eyes traveling slowly up your body before landing on yours.

"A little bit," he mumbles.

"A little bit, what?"

He looks away, dimples popping in his cheeks. "Jealous. Yeah... Sure. I'm a little jealous, Heather. I can't lie."

Your tongue pokes through your smile as you take in his words. Billy's hands roam your curves, circling your ass.

"Why do you care anyway, Heather?"

"Got a little jealous myself, Bills."

"I missed you, Heather."

"I missed you too, Billy," you whisper; lessening the distance between the two of you.

Your hands rest lightly on his chiseled chest, taking in his familiar scent as your eyes follow his silver chain. You let your fingers fall down his body; tracing over the thin cotton, feeling the ripples of his abs underneath.

You yank at his shirt. Billy quickly takes the hint, flicking off his hat before tearing off his shirt. His lips collide with yours; his rough hands wrapping around the back of your neck, towing you in. His tongue slips between your lips, swirling effortlessly with yours.

Billy's strong hands slide down your shoulders, pinching the collar of your jacket; drawing it back slightly. "This okay?"

"Mhmm," you pant between kisses. The jacket slips off your shoulders, falling to the barn floor. You save him the breath, twining your fingers around the spaghetti straps of your tank top. Peeling it off your body, bunching the material around your waist; breasts bouncing free. Billy, instantly takes a fistful for himself. Palming your skin as you start to grind on top of him. Billy leaves your lips, kissing you messily on your neck. You lean back, giving him better access.

It's been a while... A few weeks since the two of us had been together. I lied... There is no one else. No one but him. And, nothing about this is casual for me.

His hand dives between your thighs, rubbing your clothed clit through the fabric of your leggings.

I missed his hands too... All of the things they would do to me; driving deep inside, wrapping around my throat.

"Heather," he groans; making you release a hushed moan. "Missed me?"

"Yeah," you answer, needily; as your hand rests lightly on his cock, feeling his bulge through his Levis.

"Gonna need more than 'yeah', baby," he mutters between sloppy kisses, making you smile against his mouth.

You let your fingers work up his body again. He takes a heavy handle on your hips pressing the two of you together, moving with you as you work. You can feel the friction between your thighs, quenching just a fraction of your thirst; making you wetter by the second.

"I missed you so fucking much, Billy."

"That's a little better," he chuckles as he slaps your ass; the familiar sting left behind even through your clothes. "Wanna show me?"

You let out a lust-drunk laugh; easily working him out of his belt and jeans. "I wanna make you feel good, Billy."

"Get on your knees for me, baby. Suck my fuckin' cock."

You suck off his bottom lip, nipping and tugging; pulling a moan from him as you sink to your knees, complying with his demand. You run your nails along the deep indentations of his v-lines, kissing the top of his cotton boxers; hooking your fingers underneath.

"I can't wait to have you in my mouth, Billy," you groan as you tug his boxers past his hips, letting his dick spring free. "Looks like someone missed me," you whisper against his swollen cock; precum leaking from the tip.

He looks down at you; his light eyes, hooded, framed with inky black lashes. They flutter wildly as you glide your tongue along his head, collecting him on your tongue.

"Of course I did," he grunts; raising his hand toward you. Billy glides his rough finger along your jaw, drawing his tongue along his bottom lip. "No one sucks cock like you, Heather. You know that," he rasps. "Open up." Billy slips his thumb into your mouth, pressing down your tongue; spit seeping slightly out of the corners of your lips instantly.

He stands over you; jeans gathered around his feet, work boots still on as he holds his thick cock by the base. You relax yourself, moaning softly as you take Billy in your mouth. Swiftly reminded of his size as you seize as much as you can, gagging slightly as he pushes himself against the back of your throat.

"Fuck, baby," he whines; tossing his head back as your wrap your lips around his length. "Feels so good."

Praise flows freely from his parted lips as he lets you have your way with him; bobbing back and forth quickly, pushing yourself to your limit.

You sink on your knees, letting out a drawn-out groan on his cock as your throbbing pussy lands on the toe of his boot. You start to wind your hips, sucking as you grind. Billy takes notice; eyes rolling back; head, tilting to the ceiling. "God damn. I missed you," he moans a little louder.

You lick a stripe up his fat cock, swirling your tongue around his head as you continue to ride his boot; feeling your pleasure spurring between your thighs. Your brows knit tightly; looking up at him desperately.

"You gonna cum, baby," he mumbles; raking his fingers into your hair; taking hold of the back of your head. You nod, gagging on his dick in the process; tears rolling down your cheeks as you feel the knot in your stomach coil tight. "Shit..." He bites his bottom lip, doing his best to hold back his pleasure. "Me too."

You feel the chill of your slick between your thighs, surely wetting the toe of Billy's leather boot as you drip with arousal.

"Bet that pussy's so wet for me," he pants. "Cum for me. Huh? Cum for daddy."

Your orgasm overtakes your body, thighs trembling uncontrollably as your pussy flutters; muffled cries around his cock as he takes control, bucking into your mouth. "So close, Heather. Shit." Your body relaxes; eyes, rolling back in your head at the sound of his pleasure.

You lock eyes with Billy as he fights to keep his open; nails running up his legs. You sink them into his thick thighs causing him to suck in a breath. You feel his dick throb on your tongue. Yes. His muscles clench under your grasp; fingers pulling at your strands.

Billy moans your name, lowly; drawing out quickly. You shut your eyes, pressing your breasts together; as ropes of cum hit your tongue and tits.

"Mmm..." You hum; gliding a finger between your breasts, cleaning up some of the mess, taking it between your lips.

"Now you're just showin' off," he huffs; reaching for you hastily, pulling you off the floor and into his strong arms. You tip your forehead against his, scratching your nails into his curls; drawing him to your lips again.

"Billy? You in here?"

Your eyes widen on his. Billy matches your gaze; holding back a laugh, completely unbothered. "Shh..." He cautions you nonetheless. You button your lips shut, silencing yourself with your mouth against his. "Come over tonight," he whispers against your kiss.

"I can't. I have volleyball practice."

"No..." He mumbles; brushing his plump lips against yours. "So, you came here just to talk to me, Holloway?"

You let out a breathy laugh, completely caught in the act. "Pretty full of yourself, Hargrove?"

"Well, did ya?" He smiles; nibbling on your bottom lip.

"Billy!" You hear her call again.

"Be down in a second," he shouts.

"I need to talk to you in my office before you head out for the night. Okay?"

"Yup. Sounds good, Heidi. I'll be up there in a bit."

You grab his cheeks, forcing his attention back on yours as you continue your conversation. "I did. I came here for you."

"Well, shit." A smile pulls on his lips as his eyes fall down your body. "When can I see you next, Holloway?"

"Text me back."

"I will. I will. I promise," he chuckles, softly. "Hey. Wanna go to a party?"

"Duh," you giggle, excitedly. "When?"

"Thursday... You gonna dress up for me?"

"Of course. I'd love to, Bills."

"Mmm... Can't wait."

Romeo's Diner, Hawkins...

Thalia's POV

"Tonight? They're already reopening?" You hear his deep voice from behind the counter.

Eddie Munson...

You peek over at the big clock hanging on the wall. Right on time.

It's Tuesday, which means Eddie just finished his shift at Frank's Auto Shop. He's here for his usual... Coffee; two creams, one sugar, and a slice of pie. Peach is his favorite; apple, a close second, more sentimental than anything else.

Eddie used to come here every Friday with his Uncle. Both of them ordered the same thing. Coffee and pie. Wayne would get the apple and Eddie the peach. They'd sit for hours sometimes; Eddie, always talking dramatically with his hands. Wayne shaking his head in bewilderment at Eddie's wild tales, cherishing every moment.

The Munsons weren't exactly the community's favorite family; but, they didn't care. The two of them were happy. And, that's all that mattered.

Wayne Munson was a kind man. He had a smile that warmed your heart. You knew he didn't have a lot of money; but, he always made sure to tip you a little extra.

Two years ago he got sick. You watched as he slowly deteriorated. Every week, his already slim form began to waste away into an empty shell of a man. The one thing that remained the same was his smile. It never changed; but, Eddie's did.

And then he was gone.

Eddie stopped coming to the diner for a few months after his Uncle's death. Every time the bell would jingle you would check to see if he had finally come back.

Curiosity got the better of you, wanting to know if he was safe; wanting to know if he was okay.

You followed him, steering just close enough that you wouldn't lose him. Eddie drove with his windows down, blasting Johnny Cash. Wayne's favorite. He rode all the way to Lover's Lake, parking in a shitty little parking lot; overgrown with weeds.

Eddie walked out to the boat launch, stepping onto the rickety dock; wandering to the end before taking a seat. He stayed there for hours, just sitting in silence.

I could see he was okay... But, I knew he wasn't alright.

When Eddie returned to the diner, he plopped down in their normal booth and ordered his usual. His visits became more routine. Still, every Friday; but, also in between his shifts or simply on the days he was missing Wayne a little more.

You didn't mind. Seeing Eddie was something you always looked forward to. Hoping it might be the day when he would see you as more than just a waitress at the dingy local dive.

You watch as he tilts back against the bright red booth, spreading his legs widely. His familiar leather jacket lies in the spot next to him. He runs a dirty hand over his face, an audible groan escaping his plush lips as he presses the phone to his ear.

"I just think it's a little insensitive, given everything that just happened." His usual warm tone is ridden with frustration. Something's wrong. "Sure..." He grumbles as he runs his hands over his tired eyes. "I need the money, Heidi. I'll be there." Eddie ends the call swiftly, tossing the phone on the table.

You reach behind your back, tugging the strings of your checkered apron a little tighter, smoothing out the wrinkles in the front before heading his way with a fresh pot of coffee.

"Eddie, hey!" You greet him with a warm smile.

His biceps flex against the fabric of his gray mechanic's shirt; Munson embroidered in cursive on the front pocket. A white tank top covered in grease fits firmly against his torso. Eddie's hair is drawn back in a low messy bun; his big brown eyes incapable of cloaking any emotion.

"Thalia," he greets you simply; forcing a small smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes.

"Umm... I have your coffee. Freshly made," you chirp.

"Thank you, darlin'." He avoids your gaze as he looks down at his greased-covered hands. You notice his fingers tapping rapidly; his rings, clicking against the hard tabletop.

"Eddie..." You ask, softly; pouring his cup of coffee, watching as the steam rises into the air. "Are you okay?"

Eddie finally meets your gape, doing his best to hold back tears. His eyes are red; dark bags painted underneath. He looks like he hasn't slept in days. After everything that happened with Chrissy, I'm sure he didn't.

"Not really."

You take a seat across from him, reaching for the center caddy; plucking out two plastic cream cups, and a packet of white sugar, dumping the contents inside. "I'm sorry," you whisper; sliding the mug a little closer to him.

"Thank you... How did you know I take my coffee this way?" He asks, curiously; his hardened exterior softening slightly.

"Been workin' here since I was fourteen," you smile. "You're a creature of habit, Eddie Munson."

"That I am," he mumbles; swirling the metal spoon in his cup, before taking it to his lips.

Eddie sips slowly, shutting his eyes. You rise to your feet, bellying up to the bar; grabbing the pie off Romeo's hands before he can even ding the bell, resting it in front of Eddie. His eyes open, looking at the dessert before he looks at you. This simple act of kindness making his sleepy eyes glass with tears.

"What's goin' on, Eddie?"

He draws a deep laborious breath, pressing it out slowly.

"Well," he mutters, "Jones is openin' up tonight... Again... Already," he pushes the word out before taking another sip. "It's all about money. Fuckin' greed. I thought that Heidi was above that; but, she's just as bad as the rest of 'em. This town is fuckin' disgusting."

"I'm sorry about Chrissy."

His Adam's apple bobs; eyes fluttering at the sound of her name. Eddie's nostrils flare as his tears threaten to break free. "Chrissy Cunningham was a good person. She was a friend of mine... Chriss meant somethin' to me. I heard her, Thalia... I called her right before she died. I heard her final words. She was so fuckin' scared," he rattles. Eddie lifts the collar of his shirt, quickly brushing the tears away.

"That's awful, Eds. Chrissy was always so sweet. I only had a few classes with her, and we never talked; but, I saw the way she treated others."

"You went to Hawkins High School, Thalia?" He asks as he sinks his fork into his pie.

"Yeah," you answer, cheeks reddening with embarrassment. There was a part of you always hoping that he saw you in some way or another; this clearly was not the case. "I was homeschooled until freshman year."

"Did we have classes together-"

"Mhmm..." You buzz; taking a cup for coffee as well. "Mrs. O'Donnell's class."

"Oh, shit," he sneers. "Yeah, I blocked that shit outta my memory... I can't believe I never noticed you."

You bite your lips, trying to think of what to say next.

"I'm sorry, Thalia," he respires. "I'm crazy to have missed you."

You draw your lips to the side, holding back a nervous smile. "I wasn't exactly the Queen of Hawkins High or popular in the slightest."

"Neither was I," he snorts; swirling a sugared peach in his melted cream, before taking it between his lips.

The little bell tinkles overhead. You glance over your shoulder, watching as Nancy and Jonathan walk in; creatures of habit themselves. It's Monday... Which means they'll sit in the diner for hours, draining coffee while they work on stuff for the news station.

You turn your attention back to Eddie. "Well, sorry to take up so much of your time, Eddie. I know you usually like to unwind when you come in here."

"Don't apologize, Thalia. It was nice getting to know you." Your stomach floods with butterflies as you take in his words; Eddie, using a deep tone he's never used before. There's a slight sparkle behind his pensive eyes that wasn't there before too.

"You as well. Talk to you soon?" You ask, hopefully.

"Yeah... Um... Here." Eddie reaches for a little napkin scratching down a note, passing it your way. "Umm... Text me? Maybe we can get together. I could take you out if you'd like?"

You bite your lip, screaming internally as you stuff it into your pocket. "I'd like that a lot," you manage; keeping your elation at the proper level. "I'll text you later." You turn around quickly, beaming from ear to ear as you walk over to Nancy and Jonathan.

Her eyes flash up, catching Eddie across the way. She whispers to Jonathan who turns around as well.

"Hey, you two. What can I get you?"

"Coffee," she answers, hastily; before moving closer. "Did you get to talk to Eddie about Chrissy at all?"

You look back at Eddie, finishing the last bits of his pie; a slightly different man than when he walked in. He looks happier. I'm not gonna let Nancy ruin that. She takes out a pen and paper, looking at you hopefully as she waits for a response.

"Leave Eddie alone." The words leave your lips quietly; enough venom laced in your tone to make even Nancy Wheeler shift in her seat.

"Oh... Okay." She fumbles over her words, slipping her notebook and pen away.

You hear the clinking of Eddie's chains as he walks toward the door. He looks at you, giving you a smile.

Heidi's POV:

You stand at the window, staring out onto the field at the barn in the distance; watching as the sun sinks behind it. Reds and oranges wash the sky, night closing in around you.

There's a steady flow of cars spilling into the parking lot again, business as usual. As Hopper promised, a heavy police presence is here as well; red and blue lights flickering in the distance.

A few guests walk past the office, smiling and laughing. Guilt creeps in almost immediately... I'm not totally heartless... I haven't forgotten what I saw. I can't imagine what the families think of me; opening the doors so soon after.

Greedy. Money hungry. Heartless.

And, those aren't the only terrible things I am.

I hate myself for going in there after him... I tried my best to let it go; but, when she didn't come out of that barn I knew exactly what they were doing.

I could hear their little whispers. Heather's breathy giggle made me physically ill. It's absolutely classless for him to do that here. This is his fucking job... He's on the clock.

That's not why I was upset.

Every fiber of my being wished that it was me.

"Knock. Knock," he rasps; you hear his fist rap against the door, making your heart race. Stop, Heidi... I talk to him every morning, every afternoon; late at night when he's shuffling out to his Camaro after a long day. He was probably doing this all along... with her. They're most likely together.

I've never had to see it before though. Ignorance is bliss.

"Heidi? You in there?" Billy tries again.

"Yeah. Umm, yeah. Come in."

"So, we openin' or what?" He meets your watch, smiling at you happily. You purse your lips; masking your feelings as you try your best to match his.

"Y-Yeah," you force the word past your lips.

He narrows his gaze on yours. "Everything okay, Mrs. Jones?"

Mrs. Jones?

You cover your face slightly; turning away from him as you walk toward your desk. Billy lowers himself in a chair; you, taking the one across from him. A silent conversation shared between the two of you.

He knows.

Chapter IV - The Rendezous

Heidi's POV:

Hawkins Pool, Summer 2002...

Flashback...

"Cassie," Billy chuckles, lightly.

"Mhmm," she peeps; continuing her little dance on the pool's edge, as focused as a five-year-old could be after an hour-long lesson; listening to her favorite song blare over the speakers.

"If you don't focus. I'm gonna have to turn down the music. Alright?" He smiles; tousling her brunette mop of curls.

"I think we're done, Coach Billy."

"You're not havin' fun?" He pouts; looking down at her sadly.

"Ew. You're bad at that," she giggles. "Gotta go like this." She shows him her best pouty face as well.

"I'll remember that for next time. One more, Cass. Then we're done," he assures. "Mom said, 'If you listen really well she'll take you to Scoops'.

"Did I?" You ask; lowering your sunglasses on your nose.

"Mhmm... And I think I'll join ya. 'Cause it's hot as shi-" He stops himself, his beautiful blue eyes broadening as he catches himself.

"Were you gonna swear, Coach Billy?"

"Me?" He scoffs; looking down in her direction with his hands on his hips. "Never. Now stop stallin'."

"Fine." She mimics his stance, poking her tongue out at him; making him gasp.

"Alright. Alright. Acceleration Drill. You remember?"

"'Course," she huffs; starting her little dance again as a new tune starts.

"Cass..."

"Ugh. Sorry, Coach," she soughs.

"Alright. Eleven position." She lifts her tiny arms high, mimicking Billy; her little tummy rounded in her yellow swimsuit. "Good work. Now, this is how we start. What do we do next?"

"Push."

"You got it," he beams. "Then?"

"Two dolphins."

"Yup. Two dolphin kicks. On the third, bend your elbows and throw the water to your-"

"Piggies."

"Bingo... Throw the water to your toes and sneak back to eleven. Great job, Cass. So, I'm gonna go first, then you. Alright?" She nods merrily in response, taking a seat on the fringe of the pool as Billy dives in. He breaks the surface, paddling toward her with a smile. "Count me down?"

"Three, two, one; go!" She squeals in delight. Billy presses off the wall effortlessly, moving through the water while Cassie counts aloud.

He makes his way back to her, keeping pace; focusing more on showing off his form than beating his last lap. He pops his head out of the water, chuckling as he brushes the water from his face. "It's not a race, Cass. Not yet at least. Okay?"

Cassie jumps high, tucking her legs into a cannonball; hitting the water, making barely a splash. "Stinker," Billy teases; wiping the pool water from his eyes. "Alright. You ready, Jones?"

"Mhmm."

"Three, two, one; go!"

Cassie pushes off the wall, kicking as hard as her little body can; moving at a snail's pace compared to Billy. He cheers her on all the same, watching her carefully; coaching her along the way. She catches the other side, quickly returning where she started.

"Nice work, Cass!" He praises; reaching out for a high five. She smiles proudly, looking back at you. "You see that, mommy?"

"Of course. You're doin' amazing, baby."

The two of them bob to the ladder; Billy waiting behind, letting Cassie crawl out first.

"Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!" She cheers, instantly; skipping toward the rack of towels.

Your focus shifts, knowing what will come next; eyes set on the edge as Billy grabs the rungs of the ladder. His muscles flex as he pulls himself from the pool.

He shakes out his blonde hair; eyes shut gently. You watch as the water falls down his body, the little trails flowing like rivers through the divets of his abs. His red swim trunks cling to his burly thighs, gripping them tightly; leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Nothing.

He smiles, coyly; making you blush. You look away, fast turning your attention to Cassie as she paws the water from her hair.

You can hear his steps nearing you; his presence this close, making your heart race a little faster.

"We still on for ice cream, Mrs. Jones?" He asks; eyes, setting on yours.

"Call me, Heidi, Billy. Please. You're making me feel old."

"Alright," he chuckles. "Heidi." Billy tries on your name. His low, dark voice sends a warmth across your body. "Are we still on for ice cream?"

"Uhh... Mint Flare, Chocolate Pudding, and Oreo Dream," Cassie orders; nose pressed against the glass.

"And, I'll have U.S.S. Butterscotch. Billy, what do you want?" You smile; glancing back at him. He rumples his brows, shaking his head 'no'.

"That's not how this is working, Mrs. Jones." You widen your eyes playfully. "Heidi..." He corrects himself. "I can't let you buy my ice cream; but, thank you."

"A true gentleman," the worker gripes, completely unenthused that you're taking up her extra time with your little exchange.

"Billy, just tell Erica what you'd like," you sharpen your tone, playfully; handing her your credit card.

"Umm... Chocolate Pudding. Thanks." He stuffs his hands in his back pockets, digging his heel into the checkered floor. "Thanks, Heidi."

"Of course."

"Avery!" Cassie squeals; yanking you out of your daze. She runs over to their table, hugging her friend.

The two of you step to the side, waiting for your ice cream. You can feel his stare out of the corner of your eyes, sending tingles through your body; feelings that you haven't felt in years, bubbling to the surface.

He steps a little closer, moving aside for another family; brushing against you slightly; fingers grazing over the top of yours.

You look over your shoulder, watching as he notices the same thing; eyes working back up to yours. He's closer than expected; the smell of his rich cologne blurring your senses. You focus on the sound of his breathing, soft and slow as his fingers toy with yours ever so slightly.

"Here you are."

You're startled yet again, flinching as you're flung back into reality.

"Uh... Umm. Cass." You lift the cone, motioning for her to retrieve it.

"Can I sit with Avery? Please," she gives you a sweet smile.

"Y-Yeah, baby. We only have about fifteen minutes. Alright?" She nabs the ice cream, quickly turning on her heels; leaving the two of you alone.

"Wanna sit?"

"Yeah... Sorry about Cass," you sigh.

"We got ditched by a five-year-old," he shrugs and laughs.

"Mhmm... That we did, Coach Billy."

"Coach Billy?" He lifts a dark eyebrow. "We're gettin' fancy now. I'm gonna have to start callin' you Mrs. Jones again."

"Not necessary." You roll your eyes and smile.

Billy follows your lead as you walk past a row of tables to a booth. You glance to your side, watching as a smirk sets on Billy's lips.

He knows the two of you could have sat in any one of those; you, settling on a more private option, dismissing your rational mind. You slide in, moving to the middle; looking out for Cass. She grins back at you, Mint Flare a mess on her chubby cheeks.

"This was a great idea, Heidi," Billy teases; sinking into the booth. He moves a little closer, not too close; not where I want him to be.

"Mhmm," you give him an airy laugh.

He relaxes into the seat slightly; thighs widening. There it is. You feel the warmth on his skin against your bare leg; his knee resting lightly against yours. Contact. You don't draw away, making a smile stretches across his rosy lips.

Your untouched ice cream rolls over your fingers landing in a little puddle on the table. You draw the sugar cone to your lips, gliding your tongue across the melted butterscotch.

"Good?" He rasps.

"Delicious," you smile before taking another lick.

"Looks like it." He smirks; his hooded stare lost on your mouth, waiting for you to do it again.

"So, Billy... Are you excited to get back to California?"

"I'm not," he winces; looking at you shamefully.

"You're not what?"

"Goin'." The word barely clears is lips.

"Why?"

"Um..." He shifts nervously in his seat, pulling farther away. No.

"If you're not comfortable telling me, Billy, you don't have to-"

"I had the scores and grades to get there; but, when I got there, I just fell apart," he blurts; cutting you off.

"I'm sorry..."

"It's alright. My childhood was tough. I didn't have anyone who cared about me like you care about Cass and Trent. Not even close. Nobody reading with me; makin' sure I wasn't cheating. And, I know I'm making excuses for myself; but, I tried. No matter how many tutoring sessions I went to or office hours I attended it just wasn't enough..."

"Billy... Truly, I'm so sorry."

"Turns out you need to be more than a good baseball player to go to college... News to me."

"Are you gonna go back? No judgment. Just curious."

"I don't really know," he sighs; sadness driven in his tone. Billy gives you a soft smile. "Thanks for hearin' my sob story, Heidi."

"Thanks for telling me."

"You're easy to talk to. You know that? You're the only person who knows. So, keep my secret for me?"

"I will. I promise... Well, Coach Billy. If you ever want a job on a farm, just let me know," you smile.

"Can't really imagine myself doin' that," he scoffs; running his fingers through his freshly dried curls.

"You might like it." You draw the ice cream to your lips again. "Farm work would look good on you, Billy." He smiles brightly, taking in your compliment.

"So, Officer Jonsie's not a farm work kinda guy?" He asks passively; watching intently as you clean the sweet cream off your bottom lip.

"No... I mean it was his family's. When his dad passed she handed it down to Alex. Alex didn't want to leave the force. He wanted nothing to do with it. He just wanted to sell the land for some fast cash. I didn't... It means too much to me. That was my first job-"

"Were you a monster?" He bullies.

"No," you chuckle. "I just sold concessions. That's actually where I met Alex; "Officer Jonsie"."

"Shit... So you run that whole thing by yourself?"

"I do pretty much everything by myself," you answer simply. He cocks his head to the side, putting the pieces together.

"That sounds like a lotta work, Heidi."

"It is... But, I have great kids. And, my mom moved in with us when my dad died so I have the extra help."

"Do you ever relax?"

"I don't think I've relaxed in years, Billy," you sigh.

"Well, gotta get you in the water too then. You'd love it; very relaxing.

You drop your head, shaking it as you dismiss the thought. "I could never get in a pool with you, Billy," you snort through a laugh.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" His mouth falls open in faux disgust as he throws his arm on the back of the booth.

"I haven't put on a swimsuit in five years. And, I'm definitely not going to put on a swimsuit in front of someone who has washboard frickin' abs. No thanks."

The tip of his rough finger brushes lightly against your shoulder, making goosebumps run down your arms; the added connection lighting you on fire.

"Why?" He asks. You can tell from his stare what he'll say next if you push this conversation any further...

Fuck... I wanna hear it.

"Nobody wants to see that," you groan, laughing lightly.

He looks at you in bewilderment; his strong hand squeezing your shoulder. "You're joking?"

You bite your cheek, holding back your smile as you relish the first morsel of praise you've had in years.

His hand skims along your arm as he returns it to his side. "I'd personally kill to see you in a swimsuit, Heidi."

Oh...

Shit.

Alright... Wait. You feel the loss of contact between the two of you, craving more.

"Stop," you flirt; slapping his thigh, keeping it in place. His eyes lower to your hand on his body. His cheeks are sunkissed from the pool deck; a light wash of freckles dusted across the bridge of his nose, even still you can see him blush. He bites his bottom lip as the wheels turn in his mind.

"You know, Heidi. If you ever wanted to relax; I could give you some private lessons if you'd like?" He softens his gaze. "You could put on your swimsuit again... Make my fuckin' day. That's for sure," he mumbles.

Make his day.

He wants to meet privately?

He's probably just being nice... Trying to make me feel better about myself; but, what if he isn't?

Your heart starts to thump at the thought of it; mind wandering in an instant. "Umm... I-" You stammer.

"Come to think of it, Heidi," he starts again, drawing you in deeper. "There's a good pool out at Motel 6 on Cornwallis."

Fuck.

You take a little breath, looking out at Cassie as a flood of questions pour in.

Is he bullshitting me?

How could he want me?

He's almost half my age. I'm a mom... I'm married. Why am I considering this?

You sit there silently, feeling the ice cream roll down your fingers again; landing on your thigh, as your mind spins slowly.

Billy grabs a napkin off the table, cleaning you up. His lust replaced with genuine concern as he searches for your eyes. "Heidi? I'm sorry if I made this weird. I love coachin' Cass. I hope I didn't fuck that up. I'm sorry if I misread-"

"You didn't," you cut him off breathlessly. "You didn't, Billy," you repeat yourself with a little more conviction as you meet his gaze.

"I didn't?" He asks, gently.

You shake your head no, watching as an unholy grin spreads on his face. Billy wraps his arm around the back of the booth again, leaning in a little closer. "Alright... Well, what do you say, Heidi? Eight o'clock?"

Later that night...

You cut off the engine, looking to your left as you feel yourself at the crux between shame and desire. Billy's Camaro is parked at a distance, the sight of it making it all that more real. You glance down at your body; breasts pressed into lingerie you haven't worn in ages, a black satin dress hugging your curves.

Why did I wear this? Who am I kidding? What am I doing?

Heat rises behind your eyes, tears pricking at the corners. You snag a Kleenex from the center council, blotting your eyes.

The car clock switches to eight. Without thinking you thrust your hand into the passenger's seat, grabbing your overnight bag; jarring the door open before you can talk yourself out of it.

Your heels snap along the asphalt; eyes lowered as you stride through the building, heading hastily toward the elevator. "Good evening!" The receptionist sings as you blow past her; jamming your finger on the up button. You feel your stomach sink, blood draining from your face as you step into the lift.

I haven't thought this through... This hotel is so close to home. So many eyes on us. What if they recognize me? What if they know Alex?

You bury your head in your hands, feeling yourself in the throws of a panic attack.

DING.

The door floats open. All the noises roaring in your head falling to a hush. The door starts to close again. You reach out, batting at it; making it stop in a beat.

Alex doesn't want to be with me... He said it himself, more times than I can count. Remember? He was cheating on you, and he still is; even when he swore he wouldn't. 205... 207... You count the numbers as they rise. Even when he swore he would be a better father; a better husband, he couldn't. That's probably where he is right now, with her. Karen Wheeler... That cunt. Her with her white picket fence; mother of the year bullshit. It's all a sham. She was a bitch in high school and she's a bitch now. 215... 217...

220... You stand outside the door, staring at the number etched into the cheap plastic sign as you strain to slow your breathing.

I deserve to be happy; to feel wanted.

Closing your eyes you draw a deep breath; knuckles rapping against the wood. You can hear Billy's heavy feet on the other side.

The door fans open.

Before he can say an utterance you throw yourself into his arms; fingers raking through his hair, kissing him deeply. The air flees your lungs as he lifts you effortlessly, pushing you up against the wall.

"Fuck, Heidi," he mumbles. "You came. You look... Mmm... Fuck. You look so damn good," he pants between kisses as you pull at the buttons of his blood-red button-down.

Your heart pounds in your chest, as his broad body presses flush against yours; hips grinding with yours making you moan into your kiss. He's assertive; animalistic; hungry for your lips.

Billy draws away slightly, leaving you reaching for a breath; searching for him. He rests his forehead against yours staring deeply into your eyes. You can feel him trembling with excitement, that same adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"Fuck me," you whisper. "I-Is that okay? Do - Shit. Do you want that? Is that why you asked me here?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Flashback ended...

"Is this about Heather?" He mumbles; crossing his arms across his strong chest.

You bite your cheek, feeling your emotion welling in your eyes. "You can't... Y-You," you stammer. "You can't just do that at work, Billy."

"Do what, Heidi?" He grunts. "Huh? I have an hour-long break... I only took twenty minutes and I went back to work. You gonna scold me for that?"

"No. Fuck, Billy! You know what I mean."

"I don't."

You grit your teeth, feeling a tear roll down your cheek. Billy's demeanor changes as he catches sight of it, softening his tone.

"I don't know what you mean, Heidi," he whispers; averting his gaze.

"Don't lie to me, Billy. I know what I heard..."

He nods slowly, taking in your words. "What do you want from me, Heidi?" He asks, defeatedly. "You can't expect me not to do anything with anyone else. You didn't want to be with me."

"That's not true, Billy... You know that's not true," you whimper.

"Then why aren't you?" He sharpens his tone, narrowing his piercing blue eyes on yours.

"Have you two been together for a while?"

"We hook up, Heidi. We have for years. And, that stopped the night that you showed up to the motel. You were the one that broke it off with me. And, you avoided the question, Heidi. Why aren't you with me? If you wanna be with me, why are you still in your pathetic fuckin' marriage? Huh?" He spits.

"Because, Billy..." You growl in frustration; banging your hands against the desk. "None of this shit is in my name... This farm is my life. It's how I make my money. Once Alex and I are done, everything I've worked for the last ten years is gone. How am I gonna support Cass and Trent? This is the Jones Family farms. Jones... Not to mention if he even got a sense that you and I were together, Billy. You'd be gone too. And, that's the last thing I want. So pardon me, if I need a few months to figure my shit out."

"You could have at least told me... He doesn't need to know, Heidi," he shouts; face reddening with irritation; fists clenched tightly.

"We were getting too sloppy, Billy. You know that... It's too much of a risk."

"You didn't even give me a chance to try, Heidi. You just iced me out." You see his eyes haze with tears, his jaw tightens; pushing those feelings down deep.

He's right... I'm just another person that let him down. But, I knew he could talk me out of anything... I thought it was my only option at the time.

"Heidi... I appreciate this job more than I can say. After everything that happened with school, this is exactly what I needed. But, what I wanted was to be closer to you."

"Me too."

"It's been hard... Watchin' you walk around like what we had was nothing; seeing you with Alex-"

"I'm just playin' nice, Billy... Nothing more," you interject. "I either need to get him to sign this place over to me. Or, buy it outright from his mom. I really needed this season to go well, Billy and after everything that happened this past weekend, I've already lost so much."

"Well, Heidi, It doesn't make it any easier for me."

"I know... Billy, I'm sorry."

He nods slowly; his reflective eyes lost in thought.

"Billy, I don't expect your life to stop; but, just don't do it in front of me. Okay?" Your voice is barely audible; ridden with sadness.

"Well, if you would have just told me what was goin' on -"

"I know... I messed up, Billy."

"I'm sorry you heard that, Heidi," he rasps.

"You said 'you two have been hooking up for years'... Do you like her?" You ask, timidly.

"'Course I do, Heidi. Heather means a lot to me." His words hit you like a shot to the heart. "It's casual. Just sex."

"Anybody else?"

"Heidi..." Billy cautions.

"Billy..."

"Yeah." He throws his gaze away. As much as it hurts to hear... He's being honest with me now. What we had was something. It was everything; far beyond sex.

I'm jealous...

Billy should be mine. I want to be his. I want to know that he missed me; if what we had was as good as I thought it was, if I was better.

I need to know.

Grabbing the collar of your blazer you pull it off your shoulders, exposing your satin top; red lace peeking out. His favorite.

Billy furrows his brows in confusion; his perplexed-state quickly fading as he sees the look in your stare.

"Thought we were gettin' too messy, Heidi?" He groans; sinking in his seat slightly, making himself a little more comfortable.

"Were they as good as me, Billy?" You purr as you lean in closer. He lets out a sinful laugh; snatching a dart from behind his ear.

"What do you think?" Billy mumbles as he blazes his cigarette, pulling a deep inhale. Smoke pours from his mouth as he runs his tongue along his pouty bottom lip. "I've never had anyone as good as you, baby. Never."

Baby... You close your eyes, drinking in his words as memories come pouring in.

"What about you, Heidi? Have you been with anyone but me?"

"No," you respire; eyes drifting open.

"You think about it?" He smirks; pinching his blue jeans, adjusting slightly.

You bite your lip and smile. "Every night."

"Every night?"

"Mhmm..."

"No one's been takin' care of you?" He asks, darkly as he pushes himself out of his chair.

"Just me." Your eyes follow him as he walks around the desk; boots shuffling along the floor.

"Just me. Huh?" He echoes.

You nod as he grips the armrests of your swivel chair, jarring you closer. You can see the print of Billy's long, thick cock; pressing against his jeans.

"I'm gonna take care of you, Heidi. And, you're gonna let me." He takes hold of your chin with a heavy hand.

"We gotta be careful, Billy. I can't-"

"I'm gonna take care of you," he cuts; using his grasp to lift you out of your seat and into his arms. "When I say I'm gonna take care of you, Heidi, I mean it. I'm gonna be careful. You don't need to worry about me. I got you. Alright?"

"Okay, Bi-" He steals your words, claiming your lips with his. Billy catches your moan in his mouth, answering with his own.

You let out a little gasp as he lifts you, bringing you closer. "I missed you... Fuck, Heidi," he mutters.

"I missed you too, Billy." You hold on tight as Billy swipes his palm across the desk; making the items tumble to the floor. He lays you on top; lips, barely losing contact, kissing you roughly.

Your hands drift down his chest, slipping under the hem of his shirt; meeting his warm tight skin just above his belt buckle. You rake your hands back up, feeling his muscles; even more pronounced than before; resting on his chest feeling his heart pound underneath. You dig your nails into his skin making him hiss out a breath.

Billy reaches for the bottom of your silk top, lifting it up; flipping back the cups of your bra. He squeezes your tits, shoving them together. "Jesus fuck, Heidi," he mutters; locking down on your nipple, swirling and flicking, leaving you a whimpering mess below him.

"You look good... So fuckin' good," he babbles; running two thick fingers between your thighs, shifting under your skirt; grazing over your panties. "How are you so wet?" He growls.

"Please," you whimper, desperate for more.

"Want me to eat your pussy, baby? Hmm? Bend you over this desk?"

"Yes, Billy. Fuck," you sob.

He lowers himself between your legs, looping his arms under your thighs; pulling you toward his face. You slink your hands down your body, pinching your skirt; pulling it around your hips as Billy tugs your panties over your curves; falling to the floor.

He spreads your legs, kissing you deeply; marking you in a way that'll surely leave a bruise, teasing you as his digits slip closer.

You take a grip on his sandy-blonde mullet, pulling him nearer as you buck your hips, craving more friction between the two of you. Billy breathes warmly against your clit making you melt into the table.

"Billy-" You beg, your words turning into a cry as he plunges his tongue deeply; drawing out slow, licking a line to your clit that has your body reeling.

He sucks your bud, releasing you with a pop. Doing it again and again, leaving your thighs quaking uncontrollably. He brushes his tongue side to side on your clit, making you see stars.

Billy slings your legs over his broad shoulders, working deeper than before. You grip the edge of the desk, teeth clenched; muscles firing hot as you hold back your cries of pleasure. "Cum for me..." He grunts; driving his fingers into you as you nod rapidly. "Can ya?"

"Y-Yeah," you shudder; chasing your climax as he pounds into your dripping cunt.

"Do it." Billy curls his fingers inside of you; tension, snapping as you cry out his name. "Fuck... Say it again. Say my name again," he moans; looking down at you in a drunken haze as he works you through your orgasm.

"Billy," you breathe as he slips between your legs, cleaning the mess he made.

"Tastes so fuckin' good," he mumbles. Before you can even think straight you hear the clinking of his belt and the splaying of a zipper. "Need to be inside you," he mutters.

You let out a gasp as he stuffs his cock in your pussy; hips flush with your ass, balls deep; pushing even further. "B-Billy..." You whimper; tears running down your cheeks as you feel the pressure you've been missing.

"Tell me what you we're thinkin' about last night, Heidi. Gonna fuck you just like that." He brushes your tears away with his thumbs as he kisses your lips; dick buried deep. "Mmm... Heidi, this pussy was made for me."

BANG. BANG. "Hey, Heidi. You in there?" Alex booms behind the door causing the two of you to freeze. Billy snares your hips, holding you in place.

"Can you go out the window?" You whisper.

"Of course." He rolls his hips slowly, not wanting to stop. "Meet me tonight..."

"I c-can't. My mom is out of town until Thursday-" You whisper, biting back a moan.

"Thursday it is," he sighs; cupping your breast in his hand. He leans down, giving you a soft bite; eyes focused on yours. You watch as the shadow shifts underneath the door; Alex, walking away. Billy notices his leaving as well, starting right where he left off.

"Billy, you said you were gonna take-"

"Care of you," he finishes your statement. "Aren't I?"

"Billy..."

"I promise; but, can you blame me?" He groans; pulling out reluctantly; eyes, rolling back at the feeling. "Thursday..."

"I promise."

"I knocked. You said 'she was in there'?" Alex darkens the door again, talking to someone.

Billy plucks your panties off the floor, stuffing them into his back pocket; giving you a wink. He slips out the window as you turn on your heels, grabbing the phone in an attempt to look busy.

Alex meets your eyes, ending a call of his own. You gesture toward yours, giving him a silent apology.

"It's okay. Just wanted to let you know we have a few squad cars out front," he whispers.

You give him a warm smile and a nod. Alex strides out the door, into the dark hallway; leaving you alone again.

BUZZ.

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crappymixtape · 4 months

Text

baby, it's cold outside

REQUEST → @sattlersquarry, A VERY MERRY MIXTAPE ❝ what about 🎁 exchanging presents with steve?? i just know he’s a thoughtful gift giver! – it's been snowing all day, enough to snap the power lines and make the lights go out, and when steve comes over to build you a fire you can't think of a more perfect time to exchange gifts | ( 0.0k – just honestly pure fluff, modern!steve x reader )

B A B Y, I T ' S C O L D O U T S I D E 🎶 baby it's cold outside, frank sinatra & dorothy kirsten

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know…

Frank Sinatra’s voice drifted across the living room and you shot a glare at the record player.

“Oh, shut up already,” you muttered, glancing out the window to find the snow on the sill had piled up another half inch.

It was going to be historic the weatherman had said yesterday. A storm of which the likes Hawkins hasn’t seen in years! And he wasn’t kidding. It dumped fourteen inches of snow in three hours and even though your crotchety old landlord had dug out the walkway to the street, all that work would be undone in another few hours by the looks of it.

Your mom had called twice already asking if you had enough soup? Enough toilet paper? And, honey, you should have gone to the store yesterday! We could be stuck all weekend! Your retired electrician father lectured you on what to do if you lost power. Something about being able to use the gas stove even if the electric cut out, but honestly all you could think about?

Was Steve.

Steve and how you’d promised him you were going to exchange gifts this weekend before your families got all tied up in Christmas and dinner and ham, and as you looked out the window again a scowl twisted across your lips.

Stupid winter. And snow. And Christmas. And cold. Then, before you could throw more profanities at the weather outside, the lights flickered.

Off, on. Off, on. Off.

Really off.

You sucked in a gasp, heart racing in your chest, hammering against your ribcage as you slowly felt your way through the inky black hallway toward the kitchen where you’d left your phone. Dammit, where was it? You knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but you'd never admit it – still being scared of the dark.

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz.

Your phone lit up from the counter, giving you just enough light to cut the rest of the distance to the kitchen – thank god – and when you picked it up a single word beamed up at you: Steve.

Your heart raced even faster, but not because of the dark.

“Hey,” your voice was quieter than usual and you instantly felt like an idiot for letting the power outage get the best of you.

“Oh–hey,” his tone edged on concern, “Are you okay? I was just gonna see if you still wanted me to come over.”

“In this weather? No, way. It’s fine. I’m totally fine,” you tried to be confident, but who were you kidding. It sounded pathetic.

“Totally fine?” he echoed back, unconvinced, and it pulled a sigh from your lungs.

“No. The power’s out.”

“Power’s out? Shit. You got a flashlight? Batteries? Maybe some candles? Damn, babe. Is it cold? I’m coming over.”

“Steve wait! I–” but he was already gone.

It didn’t take him long to get there, and he’d never tell you but he blew the stop sign at the corner, the tires on his BMW sliding against the snow before throwing it into park outside your house.

You poked your head out the door as he rummaged around in his trunk, snow piling up again along your walkway. If he stayed even an hour he’d risk getting stuck.

“What are you doing?” you called out into the snow.

“Brought supplies! Get back inside, s’too cold!” he hollered back, your mouth firming into a line.

“I’m not helpless you know!”

“Yeah, yeah. I know!”

Arms full, of what you couldn’t see, Steve elbowed the trunk shut and awkwardly tromped through the snow to your door.

Had you liked winter even a tiny bit more the scene before you might have been pretty. Picturesque. Street lamps dark and roads quiet. Snow falling silently atop the already glittering ground. A beautiful boy coming up your walkway with a bundle of wood under one arm and a blanket under the other. Soft, white snowflakes clinging to the swoop of hair that fell out from under his beanie into his eyes.

Okay, maybe winter wasn’t so bad.

Arms wrapped around your torso, your lips tugged up into a smile as he finally made it to the top of the steps.

“Hi,” came out a little quiet, a little impish, and it made him smile right back.

“Hi.”

“What’s the plan for that?” you pointed at the bundle of wood and his brow furrowed.

“Make a fire? You don’t have any heat, which–” he nudged you with his chest, “–get back inside, you’re letting all the warmth out.”

Steve kicked the door shut behind him before toeing his boots off and walked across the living room to the fireplace. The one you’d never used. Yanking his hat off, he knelt down with the bundle of wood and started to dig around in the rolled up blanket.

First came a rolled up newspaper for kindling and then, as the blanket fell open, a small, brightly wrapped present with a tiny gold bow on top tumbled out.

He remembered.

Your heart stuttered in your chest and it was like he could sense it, looking up at you with those big brown eyes. Hair a mess, lopsided smile pulling at his lips, cheeks rosy from the cold and god, every bit of him was perfection.

“Got a box of matches? Or a lighter?” he asked, hands still gloved as he started crumpling up balls of newspaper and setting them at the bottom of the fireplace.

“Oh–y–yeah,” you stumbled over your words and reached up onto the mantle for the matches. Even after being together for almost two years, he was still making you trip over yourself.

“Here, this should catch easy,” he tipped the tops of the wood together and took the matches from you. Struck one on the brick chimney and brought the flame back to the paper where it caught and crackled. Licked up the wood and washed the room in a warm glow like an Indiana sunset in July.

He grinned up at you, “See?”

“Pretty good, Harrington,” you couldn’t help grinning back, failing to hide the lovesick look on your face and Steve soaked it all up.

“Mmhm,” he hummed proudly and stood from the floor to press a kiss to your forehead before moving to tug off his coat and gloves.

Your boyfriend.

The one who drove across town to build you a fire.

The one who took the time to wrap your present so perfectly.

The one who still wore his old Hawkins Athletics sweater even though it had holes in it.

The one who didn’t give a shit if his thick wool socks were tugged up over the legs of his sweatpants.

The most perfect combination of sexy and dorky and he was all yours.

Grabbing your hand he pulled you into him. Hands wide and warm as they settled on your hips. Pressed his chest to your back and admired his handiwork as the heat from the fire crept up your legs.

“Much better,” he said hooking his chin over your shoulder. Then, tone softening, he murmured, “Sorry your power’s out…didn’t go how you wanted, huh?”

You grumbled a bit, pouted and nestled into him more.

“No.”

“Poor thing,” he kissed you again, pressed his lips to your cheek, and just as you leaned into it he loosened his hold on you. The absence of his touch made you ache, but before you could protest he was bending down to grab the bright, cheerful looking present still sitting next to the fireplace.

Holding it in his hands he turned back to you and smiled. Warm like summer. Eyes like honey, flecks of gold and amber and so full of fondness.

“I’ve been holding onto this since–” his nose scrunched up in thought, “–shit, almost a year?” His cheeks grew pink as he rubbed at the back of his neck and chuckled at himself. A low, warm thing as he held the gift out to you.

Your brows furrowed together in thought as you worked to try and figure out why he was so flustered. What he could have found a year ago? Where had you been?

Eddie’s show at the Tin Bucket? No.

Flying down to visit Robin and Nance in San Diego? Maybe?

Your road trip to Chicago or the train ride to Minneapolis?

Looking up at him your fingers picked at the tape. Slowly unwrapping it as you wracked your brain trying to figure out what it could possibly be and Steve just beamed at you. The same, silly lovesick look you’d just given him, and a small laugh pushed itself from your lungs.

“Steve, what is it?”

“Just open it.”

You huffed a tiny sound of frustration and dropped your gaze back down the box. Fingers moving a bit faster now to unwrap it, pulled the paper away to reveal a small jewelry box and your chest squeezed tight. Eyes flicking up to look at him as his name fell from your lips, a quiet sound of reverence as he bit back a smile.

“Go on,” he whispered, so you clicked open the box and there in the low light of the fire, a tiny gold chain glittered bright in the orange glow.

Your grandmother’s locket.

The one your grandfather had given to her so many Christmases ago.

The one she’d given to you before you and Steve had started dating.

The one you never took off after she passed away that same summer.

The one who’s tiny hinge had cracked, little gold panels swinging broken like the way your heart felt.

The one that sat atop your dresser because it was too expensive to fix and–

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you bit your lips in to try and stifle the strangled sound that had crept up your throat, but Steve was right there. Hands steady as he carefully took the necklace from the box for you.

“Here.”

His fingers brushed softly against your skin as he laced it around the nape of your neck. Closed the hook and gently pressed it to your chest, fixed and polished and shining like it had the first time it’d been gifted.

You could feel yourself falling apart, could feel the tears falling freely down your cheeks now and Steve pulled you in close. Wrapped his arms around you and held you tight, held you together.

“I love you,” you said into his sweater, voice cracked and wobbling as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

crappymixtape™ •steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

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stevessunglasses · 11 months

Text

when in doubt, always blame a man

note: this was supposed to be posted ages ago, but i couldn't figure out how to write the morning after. i still don't know how, so have this as is lmao. it’s a fun meet ugly.

this comes from the prompt: you got drunk, knocked on my door at 4a, obnoxiously flirted with me and then vomited all over my feet, now it’s the next day and you’re hungover and don’t remember anything and my firm belief that steve can only flirt when drunk.

word count: 2k

warnings: second hand embarrassment, vomit

It was rare that you got a full night's sleep in your apartment complex. Something or someone always managed to wake you up. It could be your neighbors arguing, a too loud radio, police sirens, your cat stepping on your stomach; anything, but always something. For the past two weeks however, you’d been blessed with undisturbed sleep. You had forgotten how wonderful it felt to be well rested. Every day seemed so much lighter, and easier, and you felt so much more productive. You were caught up on chores, with no piles of laundry or dishes, and had been acing your classes with no need for all nighters, and even had time to hang out with your friends a couple of times a week. It was the best you’d felt in months.

So when you woke up at 3:37 a.m. to someone pounding on your door, you were rightfully pissed.

You groaned, turning over and pulling your pillow over your head in a desperate attempt to ignore them. The pounding continued for a moment, before stopping. You sighed, and settled deeper into your bed, ready to drift back to sleep, when -

“Robin!”

Ugh. At this point, if you didn’t get rid of them, your neighbors were going to blame you.

“Robbieeeeeeeeee!”

You threw off your blankets, rolled out of bed, and contemplated getting dressed before deciding against it. you were wearing a shirt that, While not workplace appropriate with a slogan of WHEN IN DOUBT, ALWAYS BLAME A MAN, fell to mid thigh and boxer style panties. If someone was going to drunkenly wake you up this late, they got you in your truest form.

You didn’t turn on any lights, instead walking down the short hallway to your front door with your arms outstretched like a zombie. At one point, you tripped over your cat, resulting in angry hissing, swearing, and a mumbled apology.

“Robinnnnnnnnnnnn!”

Rolling your eyes at whoever was in the hall, you swung your door open, completely ready to rip them apart for waking you up, only for your wrath to get stuck in your throat.

The drunken stranger was hot.

He was tall, with thick brown hair somehow styled and messy at the same time, with a pair of aviators resting on the top of his head. His white button up was open to the middle of his chest, showing off a silver chain and equally thick chest hair. A brown leather jacket, black jeans rolled at the ankle, and white nikes completed the look, but you didn’t care about that. You were far more focused on his square jaw, pretty lips, and kissable moles.

“You’re not robin,” the drunken stranger slurred, causing you to make some terrible noise that was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “You’re like, way hotter than robin.”

You watched his red rimmed hazel eyes trail up your bare legs, and a surprising sense of confidence settled over him. You were wearing a shirt that came down to mid thigh, but the look he was giving you made you feel like you were wearing something far more scandalous. He straightened from his slouch and a smirk pulled at his pretty lips. An arm came up to lean against the door frame, showcasing his already impressive biceps, and allowing a bigger gap in his shirt to see his chest.

“Honey, you can blame me for whatever you want, whenever you want,” he said. “I mean, goddamn, I was already having a good night, but you just made it a million times better. I must've been a saint in another life to get to meet you, sweetheart.”

“Alright, casanova,” you laughed. “I'm glad you’re having fun, but Robin’s not here, so time to go, okay?”

“Who cares?” the man said, pushing away from the door frame to instead lean against it with his shoulder, crossing his arms in front of his chest. his biceps seemed even bigger like that, making you unconsciously lick your lips. “I just met an angel.”

“Says the saint,” you said, unable to help grinning at the cocky man in front of you.

“Or a sinner in need of saving,” he offered with a shrug. “Whatever I am, I'll happily worship you. The only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you.”

His tongue slowly traced along his bottom lip, making you flush from head to toe. How were you supposed to respond to that? His hazel eyes remained steady on yours, and you found it impossible to look away.

“I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies,” he whispered, voice rough and husky. “I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife. Offer me that deathless death, good god, let me give you my life.”

You blinked, shaking your head slightly to clear the fog of his spell. “Wait. Are you quoting Hozier?”

The man blanched and his eyes widened. “No?”

“Oh my god, you totally are! Take Me to Church. My lover’s got humor; she’s the giggle at a funeral,” your voice was terribly off pitch, but you didn’t care in the slightest. You were having too much fun watching the man cringe. “Knows everybody’s disapproval, I should’ve worshiped her sooner. Who doesn’t know it?”

“Okay, wait-” he said, straightening away from the frame and swaying slightly. He looked unsteady on his feet again, but you weren’t paying attention.

“Have you used that before?” you laughed. “There’s no way it worked.”

“It’s romantic,” he complained, rubbing the heel of his hand against his eye.

“I mean, yeah, he is, but why would you use such well known lyrics? Why not do something like make your good love known to me or just tell me about your day or even honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do.”

“I was going off worshiping you but kissing will do. Here, shut the door. Lemme try again.”

You giggled at that, lifting a hand to cover your mouth to try and quiet the noise. The man grinned, thrilled at being able to make you laugh but it turned into a pit when your giggles settled and you shook your head at him.

“No,” you said, still softly smiling. “It’s late. You’re drunk. You need to go home!”

“I just met my soulmate, and you want me to go home?! Take mercy on my poor, drunk soul and give me your name and number at least,” he said as he dramatically slapped a hand to his heart.

“You won’t even remember me in the morning,” you shook your head affectionately.

The man threw his head back and scoffed. “I totally will! I haven’t blacked out in years.”

“Then tonight’s the night.”

“Nope. You’ll be ingrained in my memory, honey.”

He leaned forward again, stumbling slightly with the momentum of his movement. You reached out to catch him, but he waved off, instead pointing a finger in your face. His hazel eyes caught yours and froze you in place and time, and you were certain that even if he woke up tomorrow with no recollection of you, this man and this night would be seared into your mind.

“I was gonna quote more Hozier to you but that was the only song I know.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, unable to stop smiling.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

He was still leaning so close that part of you felt that you could feel his breath across your cheeks. You watched as his gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips again and again. Your heart was racing, racing, racing and god, please don’t let this be a dream. He stepped closer, lifting his hand to rest on your face, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek. His eyes flicked back and forth again, waiting for your permission before he began to slowly lean forward as your eyelids drifted closed.

A hand on your waist shoved you to the side, as a body suddenly pitched forward with a terrible sound. You watched in complete shock as the stranger vomited an endless stream all over the carpet.

Oh, this was a nightmare.

The man groaned, waking you from your stunned state. You quickly grabbed his elbow, carefully guiding him inside and to sit on your couch. He immediately tilted to the side, laying down with his arms wrapped around his stomach. Keeping an eye on him over your shoulder, you hurried to your little kitchenette to grab a piece of tupperware. The man had started to hitch forward just as you made it back to him.

“Here,” you said, shoving the tupperware into his hands. He took it, but was unable to say thank you as he opened his mouth.

Total. Fucking. Nightmare.

A while later, you had cleaned up and were now turning the couch into a bed as the man brushed his teeth in the bathroom. He had argued at first, embarrassed and far more sober than he had been before, but you ignored him. Maybe letting a stranger stay the night wasn’t the smartest choice, but you knew you’d feel terrible if you let him leave sick and drunk with no one to take care of him. You hadn’t told him that though, still annoyed with the circumstances that had gotten you here, and instead banished him to the bathroom to clean up.

You’d just put down the last pillow when the man returned. “Thank you for all this,” he said.

“No problem,” you replied, giving him a quick smile, but your eyes widened as you took him in. He had taken off his jacket and shoes, and his shirt was now completely unbuttoned, showcasing his chest in all its glory. His hair was disheveled and damp, like he had run wet hands through it and his pants sat low on his hips. He looked completely ravished, and for a moment you could only stare as you imagined other ways for him to have gotten there.

“I was gonna call my friend, but uh, my phone’s dead, so…”

“You can borrow my charger,” you said, shaking yourself free from your reverie. “I’ll grab it. Artie is probably hiding in my room right now, so sorry if she wakes you up later?”

“Artie?” he asked.

“My cat,” you explained. “She pretends to be shy, but then goes totally feral, so you might feel some love bites in the night.”

“As long as I can give them back to you,” he said with an easy grin.

“From Artie,” you rolled your eyes and tossed him a pillow. “I’m headed to bed. There’s water and Ibuprofen on the coffee table for when you wake up if I’m not up before you. More blankets are in that closet if you get cold.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I know I said that already, but I mean it. You really didn’t have to do all this.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged. “Not every night a drunk stranger wakes you up to flirt and then puke.”

The man cringed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Any chance we can forget about that part?”

“Never,” you laughed. He chuckled at that, making you grin.

“You sure I can’t just start over?” he asked.

“How’re you gonna do that?”

He rolled his neck and straightened, putting on a persona of easy confidence. He still looked partly disheveled with his clothes and his hair, but in that moment it hit you that maybe it was safer for you to have met this man when he was drunk and messy, because if you met him like this persona, sober, confident, and with that teasing smile on his face, you would have fallen in love in a heartbeat.

Instead, you were just confusingly turned on.

“Hey there, I’m Steve,” he said. He held out a hand for you to shake which you did so with a giggle. “Sorry for kinda crashing the party but I just had to introduce myself.”

“By picking an apartment at random?” you teased.

He snapped his fingers, giving you double finger guns and a wink. “You get it!”

“Go to sleep, you dork,” you laughed, walking past him to your room.

“I’ll dream about you!”

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #x reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x you #fluff #fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #modern steve harrington #modern stranger things #stranger things x reader

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