Work Text:
I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it, 'cause I do
I'm a couple minutes out from relapsing into you, oh, fuck it
I only love it 'cause it's you
Robin Buckley had officially made it a rule that you and Steve could only argue once a day. Once. So you tend to pick your battles wisely.
But today, you had decided to ignore Robin’s rule.
Steve had been thirty minutes late to work and, as a result, Keith had assigned you to rewind all the tapes in the returns box. It was meant to be Steve’s job since he had been the one to break the rewinder machine in the first place and it was objectively the worst job imaginable in the video store. And so, you were already pretty pissed off with Steve when he waltzed into Family Video half an hour late.
“Nice of you to join us, dingus,” Robin greets him with a wry smile as Steve strolls into the video store without a care in the world.
His eyes find yours and you see amusement in them as you angrily shove your little finger into the left spool of the tape and turn it counter clockwise. Steve knew how much you hated rewinding the tapes manually. He knew you were already annoyed at him and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. Did Steve feel bad about it? Judging by the way his lips were twitching as he tried not to smile—you knew he didn’t feel bad. Not even a little bit.
“My car wouldn’t start,” Steve says by way of an explanation. No apology. Just another quick glance your way as he tries to hold back a smirk.
It pissed you off even further. You were convinced that Steve Harrington was put on this earth just to piss you off. In fact, everything he did seemed to piss you off. How he always took way too long on his break. How he organised the shelves incorrectly on a daily basis. How he had once ‘accidentally’ eaten your lunch and had still not repaid you.
But mostly? The thing that pissed you off the most was the fact that Steve Harrington was the best sex of your life.
It was meant to be a drunken, one time thing. A stupid mistake fuelled by alcohol where the lines between hatred and lust had blurred. You had run into each other at a party and, after a stupid argument that had begun over who would be doing the opening shift at Family Video the next morning, Steve had asked you to dance. Told you to loosen up. You had bristled but said yes.
What came next was a blur. You remember an innocent dance between coworkers had turned into you grinding on him. How Steve’s hands—large and firm against your skin—had pulled you closer. How you had felt his hardened cock through his jeans against your ass. You remember the feeling you got—starting as a fluttering feeling in your stomach before it had swooped down, straight to your cunt which throbbed in sudden excitement. How your heart had started to beat a little quicker. How you had felt the heat build in your gut, your panties dampening as you moved with him.
You don’t remember who kissed who first. All you knew was that it didn’t stop at a kiss.
You both had stumbled into a nearby bathroom, unable to pull away from each other. Lips locked in a kiss that was all tongue, teeth and a burning in your veins that couldn’t be put out. The world around you blurring as Steve’s tongue slid against yours, kissing you like he meant it. You kissed him back like he didn’t think you were the most annoying person in the world. His long fingers dipping beneath your skirt and slipping your panties to the side before sliding through your wetness. He had been so smug about how wet you were and you didn’t even have time to tell him to fuck off before he was plunging two fingers inside of you.
Steve Harrington had made you come in under five minutes with just his fingers alone and then—he had fucked you mericlessly against the bahtroom countertop. And it was safe to say that you had been borderline addicted to him ever since. You met up after work a lot to fuck. It was mostly you coming over to his house while his parents were away (which happened a lot). Sometimes it happened in his car in the parking lot. Once or two it happened in your house, his hand covering your mouth as he fucked you at a tortuously slow pace, reminding you in hushed whispers of how your parents were just downstairs while he angled your hips so his cock would kiss your cervix in a way that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
But despite the fact you and Steve were fucking on a regular basis, he still annoyed you. In fact, you would consider him your least favourite person in the world. The fact he had made you come more times than you could count made no difference.
At least that was what you had told yourself.
Steve was looking at you as you continued to rewind tapes. He wasn’t subtle about it—he never was. In fact, it was a downright miracle that Robin had not worked out what you and Steve had been doing for the past few weeks. His hazel eyes tracked your every moment while Robin ranted to him about Keith putting her on Saturday shifts for the next four weeks.
“—I mean, I have a life, you know? Like Vickie actually wanted to hang out with me this weekend! Do you know how much of a big deal that is? Sure I wasn’t going to make a move on her or anything, it was just shopping but now I’m going to have to tell her I’m working and—”
The bell above the door sounded and you briefly glanced up and when you did, your heart sunk. Just a little bit.
Penny Baker had just walked in. A regular customer and former captain of the cheer squad at Hawkins High. The one Steve always flirted with just to piss you off. At least, that was what you suspected he was doing when his eyes flickered over to yours with amusement in them.
Today was no different. Penny twirled her dark hair around her finger and laughed brightly as Steve gave nonsensical film suggestions.
You felt something dark twist in your gut the way it always did when Steve flirted with someone else.
You had convinced yourself it wasn’t jealousy. That the feeling in your gut was something else entirely. And so, you ignored it. You acted as though it didn’t bother you. Though, it clearly did and Steve could tell. Hence why his eyes kept flickering over to you every time he made Penny laugh.
“You know,” Steve mused after Penny had left with a Valley Girl tape tucked under her arm. “It’s cute when you’re jealous.”
You let out something close to a laugh, slamming the most recently rewound tape onto the counter. “It’s cute that you think I’m jealous.”
“Oh sweet girl,” Steve murmurs, stepping a little closer to you to whisper in your ear, revelling in the way your breath hitches. That damned nickname he always used. The one that made your cunt clench around nothing. “You were jealous. Don’t bother denying it. Could see it all over your face.”
You say nothing, turning your head to glare at him before grabbing the box of returns on top of the counter. You make sure that your arm collides with his and he laughs openly as you walk towards the stock room.
You know he’ll follow and he does.
Robin was too busy distracted with a customer to notice.
You feel his presence behind you in the stock room as the door closes softly shut behind the two of you.
“You gonna start harassing me at work now?” You ask him as you place the box of tapes onto a nearby shelf, mindlessly organising them as Steve stands directly behind you. You try to ignore the way your heart hammers in your chest.
“Harassing you?” Steve asks, amused as he lifts a hand to brush your hair away from your neck. The action was so tender and intimate it made you drop the tape that was in your hand. “You gonna pick that up?”
You swallow, eyes flicker down to the tape on the floor. “Maybe. You gonna stop accusing me of being jealous?”
“Depends,” Steve murmurs, fingers tracing over the skin on your neck—over the mark he had left a few days prior that hadn’t yet faded—and smiling when you shudder. “You gonna stop being jealous, sweet girl?”
You huff, face warming at the pet name. “Go to hell, Harrington.” You tell him, turning around to glare at him some more but your breath catches when you realise just how close he was.
“You don’t mean that baby,” Steve says, his hand trailing from your neck, over your heaving breasts before his fingers splay across your stomach. “You want me right here, ain’t that right?”
You don’t say anything which was enough of an answer. Steve smiles at you as he begins to kneel down in front of you.
“Steve—what are you—we’re at work—”
“I’m just getting the tape,” Steve tells you innocently, despite the fact his hands were roaming over your jean-clad thighs. Despite the way his pupils were dilated as he looked up at you. Had that look on his face as though he wanted to devour you. “That okay, sweet girl?”
He asks the question casually but the way his nose nudges your cunt over your jeans tells you that Steve Harrington was not just on his knees to help you retrieve a tape.
“If we get caught—”
“We won’t,” Steve tells you before he leans in—unzipping your jeans with his damn teeth in a move that makes heat pool between your legs while simultaneously making you want to strangle him for being so effortlessly smooth.
Steve helped you shimmy out of your jeans, his breath hot against your skin as he left wet kisses along your inner thigh.
“Can smell how much you want me,” Steve tells you, his nose pressing against the damp patch that had collected in your panties. “So fucking sweet as always, baby.”
“Shut up,” you gasp out, your fingers curling in his hair as you lean back against the shelving unit behind you.
Steve smiles, inhaling the sweet scent of your arousal through the cotton of your panties before his lips press against where he knew your clit to be. It was over the material but it still made a small whimper leave your lips. Still had your back arching as he moaned against you.
“Steve—”
“Patience, baby,” he tells you, pulling away enough to look up at you as his hands begin to gently pull your panties down your legs—his cock twitching beneath his jeans when he sees how your pussy glistened in the low lights of the stock room. “Let me take care of her for a minute. She’s crying for me.”
And then, his mouth is on you. His tongue hot and eager as it glides between your folds, coating the tip with your arousal and groaning as he tastes you properly.
“So fucking sweet,” his murmurs against you, his hand wrapping around one of your thighs and helping you lift it over his shoulder. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted. You think I want someone else's when I have yours, sweet girl?”
You bite back a moan, knowing that if you didn’t it would be loud and wanton, knowing Robin would hear it. Steve liked to say things like this during sex—liked to tell you that you were the only one he needed. You were sure it was just pillow talk. You didn’t really know if he truly meant it. But it made your heart race all the same.
“You don’t mean that,” you manage to say as his tongue continues to glide through your folds, a slow torture that had your fingers tightening in his hair.
“I do,” he murmurs against you—dark eyes flickering up to meet yours. “No one else.”
There’s a moment where you just look at each other—a quiet understanding there before his lips wrap around your clit and then? You were gone.
Steve Harrington took no mercy on you, sucking on your sensitive bud enough to make you whimper before he dips down to fuck you with his tongue. It was nothing short of torture, his tounge licking in and out of you and his nose—that fucking beautiful nose of his—nudging against your swollen clit. You felt your hips moving without permission. The wet sounds of his mouth on you filling the quiet store room. His muffled moans against your soaked cunt as your hips chased his mouth, his fingers digging into the plush flesh of your thighs.
You could have come from his tongue alone. But Steve wanted you to see stars.
When two of his long, thick fingers slid into you—you were so close to crying out that you had to stuff your fist into your mouth to prevent yourself from doing so. You could feel Steve smile against you, his fingers curling and finding that spot inside of you with ease. A whimper manages to escape and Steve groans, curling his fingers again and again until your thighs were trembling.
“Stevie,” you gasp out—the nickname that you only ever used in these moments, when you were right on the edge and Steve was the only one you trusted to catch you. “I’m so close—I’m going to—”
“I got you, baby,” he tells you, still moving his fingers inside of you. “Don’t you worry. I got you.”
If you weren’t so close, you may have thought more about the look in his eyes. Would have thought more about the way he was gripping onto you like he never wanted to let you go. But the feeling building in your gut was too intense, too all consuming to think of anything else but his fingers and his tongue and—
“Stevie, oh god—Stevie—”
Your orgasm hits you hard. Had Steve not been holding you so tightly, you may have collapsed entirely. But he held you—steady and firm as your walls fluttered around his fingers, your release coating his tongue and Steve lapping up every damn drop as though it was liquid gold.
Your fingers curl into his hair for a brief moment before you let go. Your breathing erratic as you come back down to earth from the intensity of your orgasm, your eyes wide when they meet his hazel ones.
His lips were wet, soaked from your release and god—he looked so beautiful that it took your breath away for a few moments. You blink, softer now in the aftermath of your bliss. You didn’t argue as Steve helped you step into your panties, as he pulled them up your legs. You didn’t make a comment as he also helped you into your jeans.
“You know I mean it, right?” Steve asks you quietly as he gently pulls up your jeans, his eyes meeting yours as he stands up straight.
“Mean what?” You ask him quietly, your eyes flickering between his as you try to understand what he meant. Though, deep down, you think you already know.
“That I don’t need anyone else,” he says. “Not when I have you.”
You swallow, the admission hanging between the two of you. You’re not quite sure what to say and you’re certainly not sure how to feel about what he had just said. But your traitorous heart hammers against your chest and your cheeks burn.
“Careful Harrington,” you murmur back quietly. “Keep talking like that and I’ll think you actually like me.”
Steve smiles—he actually smiles at that—and looks away from you, down at the forgotten tape still on the floor between you.
“Something like that,” he says quietly before he bends down to actually retrieve the tape.
You want to say something more, want to tell him how seeing him with Penny and the other giggling customers made you feel. But you didn’t.
You just watch as he returns the tape to the box of returns. You watch as he adjusts himself in his jeans, shooting you a wink.
“You can help me out later,” Steve tells you and you fight back a smile.
“If you’re lucky,” you say, knowing that you would inevitably have his cock in your mouth a few hours later.
Steve smiles, leaning in to press a kiss that was almost sweet to your forehead.
“Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it.”