bennysfavorite

The sticky syrup residue washed down the sudsy sink as I scrubbed my hands, making sure to get between my fingers and under my nails. The morning was winding down, only a few people left inside, clacking away on their computers. The sound blended together in a way that was almost comforting, like background noise you don’t notice until it’s gone. Working as a barista was never my first choice for a summer job before college. The hours felt long, but the pay never really made up for it.

Orders came one after another. Vanilla, caramel, different kinds of milk, no foam, extra foam. It all started to feel the same after a while. My hands moved on their own most of the time, like I didn’t even have to think about it anymore. It made the hours go by faster.

Except for him.

I didn’t notice him the first time. Or maybe I did and just didn’t think anything of it. He was just another person walking in, the bell above the door giving that soft little chime. But then he came back. And then again. It didn’t take long before I started to recognize him without trying.

“Plain black with extra sugar for Walter.”

The first time he said it, it stuck with me for some reason. Not because of the drink, but because of how certain he sounded. Like there was never going to be a different order.

And there never was.

He didn’t get anything else. No pastry, no second drink, nothing added on. Just the same thing, every time.

At some point, I started noticing when he wasn’t there.

I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t standing around waiting for him or anything like that, but my eyes would still flick to the door whenever it opened. Just for a second. Sometimes a little longer than that.

My coworkers noticed before I said anything.

“He’s here,” one of them would say, a quiet comment that somehow felt louder than it should’ve.

I’d brush it off, act like it didn’t matter, but I was already moving. Drying my hands, stepping up to the register like I just happened to be next.

I never put his order in before he said it.

Even though I knew exactly what it was going to be.

Even though I could’ve done it without thinking.

I always waited.

There was something about hearing him say it that made it feel different from the rest of the day. Like it stood out just enough.

His cock teased her entrance, slick with desire. The anticipation was almost too much. Her nails gripped his biceps without either realizing that she tore the skin. His other hand pressed deeply into the pillow next to her head. The room filled with the sound of the radio that they haphazardly turned on, praying it would be loud enough to fill the sounds they would make together. 

“Please.” Her words were quiet, breathless. He nodded his head, swallowing nothing.

He plunged deep inside, barely giving her tight cunt time to adjust to his thick shaft. His hips pumped him in and out, bottoming inside of her. She practically screamed at the feeling. It was intense, almost painful but in the best way. She knew that his dick had officially ruined her, she’d never be able to take another, as if she was permanently molded to his. 

Mindless words slipped from both of their lips, he knew he wouldn’t last long. She was too tight, felt too good. Her hand released his bloody arm and magnetized to her sensitive clit, rubbing vigorously.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” her eyes were closed tightly while she forced them open, desperate to cum while watching his expression. She felt like she could explode and so could he. He forced himself to pull out just before he did. A whimper of sadness escaped her lips, the feeling of being empty was too much.

“Turn over.” His words were blunt and direct. As she did so he slapped her ass, the burn stung but turned her on even more. He forcefully grabbed her thighs and spread her legs apart, reaching forward to smash her head into the blanket. Her back arched and for a moment he just admired her. He noted how perfect her ass was as he grabbed both cheeks in his hands, squeezing harshly before slapping her ass again. 

“Please.” He would’ve made her clarify but they were both too horny for that routine. He lined up his tip at her entrance, pushing it in again, this time more slowly. Her pussy squeezed around the length. Even though he was just fucking her, the size always surprised her and made her drool into the pillow.  

His rhythm continued to speed up. He grabbed her hips tightly, leaving bruises where his fingertips grabbed. All she could muster was ‘faster’ and ‘harder’ here and there. Other than that, it was endless screams of his perfect name into the pillow until her voice was gone from the dryness of moaning. 

One particular pump was significantly deeper than the rest, jolting her forward. He had hit her spongy soft cervix and smiled to himself but pulled back a bit so as to not hurt her. 

He fucked her hard, in every positon they could think of. Hours passed as well as countless orgasms.

The room slowly quieted, the radio still humming softly somewhere on the dresser. The frantic energy that had filled the space only moments before settled into something heavy and warm. He hovered over her for a second, breathing hard, trying to catch his breath while the heat between them slowly faded.

Her body trembled slightly beneath him, the tension leaving her muscles in slow waves. He reached down and brushed a strand of damp hair away from her face, his fingers gentler now, careful where her skin had flushed red. For a moment neither of them spoke, the only sounds their breathing and the faint crackle of the radio.

“You okay?” His voice was rough, quieter than before.

She nodded against the pillow, turning her head so she could look at him. Her voice came out hoarse from all the shouting earlier. “Yeah. Just… give me a second.”

He shifted beside her, easing some of his weight off and pulling the blanket up around her shoulders. His hand traced absentminded circles along her back, careful around the spots he knew would probably bruise later. The earlier urgency had been replaced by something softer, almost sheepish.

“Sorry about your arm,” she murmured after a moment, glancing at the scratches she’d left along his bicep.

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Worth it.”

She rolled onto her side slowly, wincing just a little before settling against him. The mattress dipped as he adjusted, letting her tuck herself into the space beside his chest. He pulled her closer without thinking, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head.

The room felt different now. Calm. Safe.

After a minute he reached toward the nightstand, grabbing the half-empty glass of water sitting there and passing it to her. “Drink,” he said gently.

She took it, sipping slowly before handing it back. Her fingers brushed his as she did, lingering for a moment.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” he added, nudging her shoulder lightly. “You always pass out right after.”

She let out a tired laugh, eyes already half closed. “Maybe because someone wears me out.”

He shook his head, but the small smile on his face stayed as he pulled the blanket higher around them. His thumb continued tracing slow circles on her arm while the radio murmured quietly in the background.

Eventually her breathing evened out, growing slower as she relaxed against him. He stayed awake a little longer, watching the rise and fall of her shoulders, making sure she was comfortable before letting his own eyes close.

The last bell blared, loudly ringing in everyone’s ears. The school day was finally over but not for you. While everyone got to go home, see their families, get ready to go to whatever bullshit parties there were, you had to stay at school. By the time you left, you knew the sky would be dark, the street lights would be on. And you couldn’t wait to explain to your parents why you stayed at school so late.

You finally stood, slinging your bag over your shoulder, and made your way toward the classroom listed on the slip. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, too loud in the sudden quiet. The school felt different after hours. Bigger. Hollow. Like it was holding its breath.

When you pushed the door open, you stopped short. Someone was already there. You knew you wouldn’t be alone, sure, but why him?

Steve Harrington sat a few desks from the back, legs stretched out, chair tipped back on two legs like he didn’t have a care in the world. His jacket was tossed over the back of the chair beside him, hair still perfectly messed up like detention was just another inconvenience instead of a punishment.

Your heart did something stupid in your chest. You weren’t entirely sure why, it was just “King” Steve, someone you hadn’t even batted an eye at. Someone who you stared at in the halls but didn’t pay any mind, knowing he paid no mind to you.

You hesitated, hand still on the door, debating whether to pretend you had the wrong room. But Steve looked up, brown eyes meeting yours instantly, like he’d felt you there before he saw you.

“Oh,” he said. “Hey.”

Of course he sounded relaxed. Of course he smiled. Though he was a jerk, he had no real reason to give you trouble.

“Hey,” you replied, quieter than you meant to. You moved toward an empty desk near the front, putting as much space between you and him as possible. The scrape of the chair against the floor felt too loud.

Silence settled in thick and uncomfortable. You were very aware of your heart beating in your chest, of the tick the minute hand did. It was louder than usual.

You could feel him looking at you. Not staring exactly, but aware. Like he was trying to decide whether to say something or leave it alone. You kept your eyes on the desktop, tracing old scratches in the wood, names carved by people who had survived this exact boredom before you.

“So,” Steve said finally. “What’re you in for?”

You let out a small breath through your nose. “Skipping first period.” It was true. You hadn’t studied for the big test and you couldn’t will yourself to go to class. You knew it was wrong but taking a long morning was nice for once. You had never done anything like it either, never gone into detention, never even been a minute late.

He hummed. “Worth it?”

You thought about it. About the choice you’d made. About the consequences sitting heavy in this empty room. “Yeah,” you said. “It was.”

Steve smiled at that, real this time. He leaned forward, chair coming down flat on the floor. “Mine too.”

That surprised you. You glanced over before you could stop yourself. “What did you do?” He quietly laughed to himself, glancing out the window, like he was reliving the moment.

“Got mouthy with a teacher,” he admitted easily. “Apparently they don’t like that.”

You almost laughed. Almost.

Before either of you could say more, the door opened again and the teacher walked in, keys jangling, expression already tired. She barely spared you a glance before sitting at her desk.

“You two know the rules,” she said. “No talking. Sit quietly until I dismiss you.”

The door shut behind her with a final click. And just like that, you were stuck. Alone. Silent. Aware of every shift in the room, every breath, every glance you weren’t supposed to take.

You stared straight ahead, but you could still feel Steve beside you, close enough to matter.

After finishing a few pages of homework you glanced at the clock, hoping that time was on your side. You sighed roughly to yourself, it had only been 25 minutes. Whoever came up with 4 hour detentions definitely hated kids, what else were you supposed to do?

“Okay you two,” The teacher started as she picked up her clipboard and pulled her glasses to the end of her pointy nose. “I have some…matters to attend to. You both are to remain here. I am trusting you and I will be back to dismiss you.”

The door shut behind her with a firm click, the sound echoing louder than it should have. Her footsteps faded down the hallway, leaving the room unnervingly quiet.

You looked back at the clock. Still too much time left.

Steve shifted a few desks over, the legs of his chair scraping softly against the floor. You hadn’t really acknowledged him since you both sat down. He leaned back, one arm draped over the chair beside him, eyes fixed on the ceiling like he was trying to will time forward.

“This is brutal,” he said after a moment.

You didn’t look up from your notebook. “You’ll survive.”

“Debatable.”

You flipped a page, the sound sharp in the quiet. The hum of the lights overhead filled the space between you, stretching the silence longer than it needed to be.

“What’s your name again?” Steve asked. He scraped thin curls of wood from the edge of the desk with a small knife, like he had nothing to worry about.

“Y/N,” you replied dryly. Of course he didn’t know who you were. You knew him. Everyone did.

“Mm. Well, Y/N,” he said, standing and slipping the knife back into his pocket, “what do you say we make this interesting?”

You turned to look at him, an unintentional frown pulling at your mouth. You bit the skin of your bottom lip.

“What kind of interesting?” He could hear the skepticism in your voice. In turn, he stood from the desk he had scraped up.

He held his hand out. You noticed the calluses on his palm before you noticed how close he was.

“Do you trust me?”

The question was simple. Too simple. You barely knew him, but there was no real reason not to. Still, your pulse picked up as you stared at his hand. Your mind raced. Biting your bottom lip, you slowly nodded your head, almost as if you had no control.

“I do,” you said, surprising yourself as your fingers slipped into his.

Maybe you were bored. Maybe you wanted something to happen. Either way, you hoped this wasn’t a mistake.

Hand in hand, you walked down the hall. There was almost a slip in your step. This was wrong. Leaving the room you were bound to was wrong but still excitement filled your chest. You stopped at a few classrooms, peeking through the window of the door. On your third try you found what you were supposedly looking for.

It was the detention monitor. She sat on the edge of the desk at the front of the room, glasses tucked into her pocket with her manicured nails on display as she clasped her hands together on her lap.

Across from her sat another teacher you recognized but had never had. Balding, with a ring of hair clinging stubbornly to his head. Sweat gathered at his temples as he leaned in too close to her. They weren’t talking about students, that was clear. They were flirting. Her blush was far too red and he wiped his clammy hands across his lap.

“Looks like we have some time,” Steve smirked.

Steve didn’t let go of your hand right away. He leaned closer to the small window in the door, peering through it one last time before stepping back. His grip loosened, but your fingers stayed tangled for half a second longer than necessary.

“She’s not going anywhere,” he murmured, voice low. “We’ve got… at least twenty minutes.”

Your stomach flipped. You pulled your hand back, folding your arms loosely across your chest, suddenly very aware of how empty the hallway was. The lights hummed overhead, casting long shadows down the linoleum.

“You’re really not worried,” you said quietly.

Steve glanced at you, a lopsided grin tugging at his mouth. “Worried’s kind of my thing lately.” Then, softer, “But not about this.”

You weren’t sure if that was comforting or alarming.

He started walking again, slow this time, like he didn’t want to spook you. You followed, shoes echoing faintly with every step. The school felt different out here, too quiet, too exposed. Every door you passed looked the same, every turn identical. You’d walked these halls a thousand times, but never like this.

“You do this a lot?” you asked, mostly to fill the silence.

Steve shrugged. “Skip out of detention? No. Get stuck in it? Yeah.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“I’m not,” you said quickly. Then, after a beat, “I wasn’t.”

That earned you a look. Not teasing. Curious.

“Huh,” he said. “Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

He stopped near a classroom at the end of the hall. The door was unlocked, the lights inside off. He reached for the handle, then paused, looking back at you.

“We can stop,” he said. “If you want.”

You studied his face, searching for something, pressure, expectation, but found none. Just that easy calm, like whatever you chose would be fine.

You swallowed. “I don’t want to.”

His smile was small this time. Genuine.

The door creaked softly as he pushed it open, and you slipped inside after him. The room smelled faintly of chalk and cleaning supplies. Steve shut the door gently, not all the way, just enough to give the illusion of privacy.

You leaned back against a desk, hands gripping the edge. Your pulse thudded in your ears.

“So,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “Still trust me?”

You met his eyes. “I think so.”

He nodded once, like that was enough. Like you were enough.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable this time. It was charged. Full of things neither of you were saying.

And you had the strange, sinking feeling that whatever this was, whatever you were doing, it wasn’t just about killing time anymore.

First, he led you to the gym. Basketballs were scattered across the floor, left behind from earlier practices. Being Steve, he didn’t miss the opportunity to show off.

He dribbled around you with ease, calling out random plays that didn’t mean anything, shooting a few times just to hear the echo of the ball against the court. He made most of them.

He offered for you to play. You stayed where you were, arms crossed over your chest. You wanted to act unimpressed, like none of this fazed you. But it did. He was hot. So very hot.

Next was the science lab. Long black tables were cluttered with forgotten textbooks and scattered beakers. Bottles of chemicals with names you couldn’t pronounce lined the counters.

“Should I mix some?” Steve asked.

His laugh at your wide eyes was sexier than it had any right to be. You shook your head.

“What would you even do? Do you know anything about chemistry?”

He shrugged. “No. But I’d try to make a love potion.”

He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe you’d fall deeply and madly in love with me. Mwahah.”

His laugh was ridiculous. Completely cheesy. And still, you couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your lips.

As you continued to explore the halls together you noticed a small room. It was the janitor's closet, propped open by a small piece of wood. You made eye contact and silently agreed to check it out.

Walking into the small space, you knew it wouldn’t be much. The high shelves were filled with common school stationery, toilet paper, soap, brooms and mops. It wasn’t all too impressive. Deciding this wasn’t as fun as the other rooms you went to leave as you heard a powerful click. You turned to be met with darkness. The door, the only path to your way out, was now closed. Steve reached up and pulled the light, illuminating the small closet with the yellow glow of the small bulb.

“What did you do?” You asked, stepping to the door. The handle rattled as you tried to open it but to no avail. The piece of wood was clearly there for a reason and now it was very apparent.

“I didn’t do anything, oh come on let me try.” You stepped to the side as he jiggled the handle as well, same results.

“Steve, it’s Friday,” you said, pacing the small space. “What are we going to do?”

“Y/N come on,” he said gently. “Look at me.”

His hands settled on your shoulders, stopping you mid step. Somehow, his voice steadied you.

“They’re going to notice we’re missing,” he said. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to think. “And the door was propped for a reason,” you added. “Someone has to be coming back.”

It sounded reassuring when you said it out loud. Now it was just a matter of when.

Silence settled in the small space before you started to laugh.

Steve looked at you like you’d lost it. You shook your head, still laughing as you slid down until your back hit the door.

“Did I miss something?” he asked, crouching in front of you. Worry was written all over his face. For a second, he wondered if the chemicals lining the shelves had already gone to your head.

“No,” you said, running your hands through your hair. “It’s just funny.”

You laughed again, softer this time. “I’m stuck in detention. And now I’m locked in a tiny closet with Steve Harrington.”

You glanced up at him. “Can you believe that?”

The question was rhetorical. Still, it made you think.

Steve lowered himself to his knees and shook his head.

“You know, that’s not very funny,” he said. “You had me worried for a minute.”

There was frustration in his voice. And something else.

You looked into his eyes, the smile gone. A shock of electricity ran down your spine. You wondered if he felt it too.

He didn’t look away. It felt like he could see straight through you. He licked his lips without realizing it.

“You were worried about me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, just slightly.

“You don’t even know me,” you said. “I’m no one.”

“What if I want to know you?”

Your eyes stayed locked on his. His throat moved as he swallowed, his gaze dropping to your mouth.

The sky, a beautiful pale blue, was filled with fluffy white clouds. The sun was hidden behind them, peeking out every so often. A cool breeze shook the leaves of the trees, some falling, demanding to be raked into consistent piles.

The sidewalks were busy, shoes scuffing against concrete, voices blending together into something almost pleasant.

He noticed everything.

That was the problem.

He sat on the edge of the bleachers longer than he needed to, watching nothing in particular. The field stretched out in front of him, empty and too quiet. Normally he would be waiting for you. Waiting for your voice behind him. Waiting for the way you always acted like you were surprised to see him, even when you weren’t.

You weren’t there.

He checked anyway.

His eyes traced the path you usually took. The one you never even realized you followed. You didn't appear. You didn't wave. You didn't look around like you were searching for him.

It felt wrong. Like forgetting something important and not realizing what it was until it was too late.

Someone called his name. He barely registered it.

All he could think about was how normal the day looked. How unfair that felt.

Because if the sky was allowed to look like this, then maybe what he did didn't matter as much as it should have. And that thought made his chest tighten in a way he couldn't ignore.

You were supposed to be here.

“Hey.”

Nancy sat beside him on the bleachers. Her presence was confusing. He was glad to see her. Happy, even, to see her curls bounce as she settled, to hear her voice when she spoke. It was like eating ice cream before dinner. Sweet, indulgent, something he knew he wasn't supposed to enjoy this much.

She was amazing. Everything he could want.

And still, she wasn't.

Despite the smile that crept onto his lips, his stomach twisted into tight knots, the same ones he felt before a game.

“You look tired,” Nancy said, nudging his knee lightly with hers. The touch was only slight but something was different. The electricity he expected to feel never came, it confused him even more.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Didnt sleep much.” His fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the hem of his shirt. He wanted to look over at her but for some reason he didn’t feel like he could.

She frowned. “Bad night?”

He hesitated. Just for a second. Long enough to feel it. She definitely picked up on it.

“Something like that.”

Nancy studied him, her gaze lingering longer than usual. “You okay?” Her mind raced, not being able to pick up on his subtle hints. He gave none.

He nodded too fast. “Yeah. Just stuff.”

She accepted that easily. She always did. And for the first time, that bothered him.

His eyes drifted back to the path near the field. The one you used to take. He caught himself doing it and forced his gaze away. It hurt his chest to look.

Nancy noticed anyway. She thinned her lips, biting her cheek. She could feel the thick tension, it wasn’t awkward but it could’ve been.

“Are you waiting for someone?” she asked, casual but curious. She stayed cautious, trying to get him to open up.

“No,” he said quickly. Then quieter, “I mean. No, I’m not.” He swallowed harshly, his heart raced a bit faster than usual.

The word felt heavier than it should have. It wasn’t like he was trying to convince her, but convince himself.

“Oh,” Nancy replied, glancing around before looking back at him. “I thought maybe Y/N would be here. I haven't seen her today.”

His jaw tightened at hearing your name, especially from her lips.

“Yeah,” he said. “Me neither.”

The silence stretched between them. Not awkward. Just empty. As quickly as your name came into the conversation though, it left.

Nancy talked about a paper she was stressed about. About her mom being on her ass and about Mike being annoying as usual. About a test coming up. He nodded when he was supposed to. Smiled when it made sense. But none of it stuck.

All he could think about was how easy this was supposed to feel. How when he helped with her car, his chest didn’t feel this tight. How his stomach wasn’t twisted in a labyrinth of knots.

It didn't.

When he finally spotted you, it was almost accidental. His heart pounded even faster.

You were crossing the field with Tammy, laughing about something he couldn't hear. Your hair moved when you walked. Your bag was slung over your shoulder the same way it always was. You looked the same. You looked happy.

You didn't look at him, not once. You pushed a piece of hair from your eyes as he had once done. As he had done to Nancy too.

The laugh cut off too quickly in his chest. His fingers curled against the metal bleacher beneath him.

Nancy followed his gaze. She quietly sighed.

“Oh,” she said softly. “There she is.”

He watched you slow near the building. Watched you stop to bend over and pick up some trash, you were always nagging him to clean up, even if it was after others. Watching Tammy say something that made you smile again.

That smile used to belong to him. He used to be the only one that got to see how beautiful it was.

“Do you want to go talk to her?” Nancy asked. She hadn’t known exactly what went down a few weeks ago, no one really did.

The question was gentle. Reasonable. She meant nothing behind it but pure respect.

He didn't answer right away.

Because if he stood up now, if he walked over, he had no idea what he would say. No idea what he was allowed to say anymore.

“No,” he said finally. “I’ll do it later.”

Nancy nodded, satisfied.

You turned then. Just slightly. Enough that he thought for a second you might look at him. That maybe you’d run over to him, grab his face and smash your lips against his. Forgive him for all his wrongdoings like you usually did.

You didn't.

The knot in his stomach pulled tighter.

For the first time, sitting next to Nancy felt wrong in a way he couldn't explain. Somehow, someway, it scared him.

The knot in his stomach twisted tighter. His jaw ached from clenching. The bleachers felt smaller somehow, as if the space between him and you was stretching infinitely. He wanted to yell. To demand that you see him. To force you to remember. But he knew that any action would feel desperate, and that would only make it worse.

He could feel it, a kind of heat building in his chest. Possessiveness. Not just desire. Not just missing you. He hated that it was there. He hated that it made him feel like a child, powerless, waiting for something he couldn’t have. And the more he tried to ignore it, the stronger it became.

Your laughter faded for a moment, swallowed by the breeze. He tensed, hoping you would turn. Hoping you would glance at him. But you didn’t. You kept walking, kept talking to Tammy, kept existing in the world that had somehow moved on without him.

He gritted his teeth. He could feel his hands clenching into fists in his lap. He could feel the heat rise to his face. His stomach churned. Every instinct he had screamed at him to move, to do something, to make this right. To take back even the smallest piece of the world you had reclaimed from him.

Nancy noticed. She leaned slightly closer, a question in her eyes, but Steve barely registered it. Her voice, once comforting, was background noise now. His entire focus was you. The way your bag swung against your side. The slight tilt of your shoulders. The way you laughed without him there.

He wanted to explode. He wanted to storm across the field. To shove everyone else aside. To shake the air until it bent around you. But he stayed seated. Frozen. The only thing he could do was watch, and that was worse than anything.

Every second that passed made him suffer more. Each breath you took, each small motion, reminded him of how much control he had lost. How he had let it happen. How he had let you slip out of reach.

And even though he hated it, even though it burned in his chest, he couldn’t look away.

You were right there. And he couldn’t touch you.

And that hurt worse than anything else he had ever felt.

-

As you walked to class, the sound of clanking lockers and busy chatter filled your ears. You didn’t notice anyone behind you until a hand reached your shoulder. You thought it was Tammy. Maybe you had forgotten to give back her Algebra paper. When you turned and saw Steve, a jolt of shock ran down your spine.

“We need to talk.”

You froze, hand still on your bag strap, your pulse spiking. Your eyes met his and for a moment it was like the rest of the hall didn’t exist. The chatter, the clanking, even Tammy somewhere in the background none of it mattered. Only him. Only that look on his face.

“I…we?” You asked carefully, keeping your voice calm and measured. You didn’t want him to see your hands shake.

“Yes. Now.” His grip on your shoulder tightened just enough to make you flinch. There was no anger in his voice. Not yet. But it carried a weight that made your stomach twist. You could feel the possessiveness behind it, the sharp edge beneath his usual charm.

You considered pulling away, walking past him, pretending this was just another awkward hallway encounter. But something in the way he stood there, his chest tense, eyes dark, made it impossible to move.

He stepped slightly closer, shrinking the space between you without touching you again. “Not here,” he said quietly. “Somewhere we can actually talk.”

You wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him this was unnecessary, that you didn’t need him to follow you or corner you. But your legs carried you forward anyway because despite everything a part of you wanted to see what he would do. Wanted to see if the boy who had hurt you still cared in any real way.

He matched your pace, silent, deliberate, his presence heavy and unrelenting. Every step reminded you that he had power here. That he had always had power and maybe even now he still did.

By the time you reached the empty courtyard behind the school, the chatter of other students felt distant. He stopped you gently, turning you to face him.

“Look at me,” he said. His hand dropped from your shoulder but the tension in his body made it clear that he wasn’t letting you go, not yet.

You met his gaze, steady, refusing to let him see how fast your heart was racing.

“I screwed up,” he admitted quietly, voice tight. “I don’t get a free pass for what I did. I know that. But I need… I need you to hear me out.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “Steve, you’ve said a lot before.”

“I know,” he cut in, sharp, almost pained. “But this time… I mean it. I don’t want to lose you. Not like this. Not ever again.”

Something in the way he said it made the knot in your stomach pull tighter. Part of you wanted to scoff, to remind him that you didn’t need his apologies. Another part, the part that hated to admit it, wanted to reach out and let him prove it.

You didn’t move. You didn’t answer. You just watched him, letting the silence stretch between you.

He swallowed, jaw tightening. His eyes flicked briefly toward the distant sounds of the school, then back at you. “I can’t fix it all at once,” he admitted. “But I can’t just watch you walk away either.”

Your shoulders stayed squared. Your chest stayed calm. Your lips didn’t twitch.

Seeing her stand there, so perfect. You couldn’t help but wish that it was you. She had it all. The beauty, the smarts, the charisma that drew people in. But most of all she had one thing that you could never forgive, she had Steve.

A strand of her curly hair fell in her eyes, sticking to her lashes as she expressively talked to those around her, of course everyone was listening. You bit your lip in disappointment as Steve reached with no hesitation. His fingers brushing her brow lightly, tucking the strand of hair nearly behind her ear. The twinge of jealousy filled your stomach. You felt as if you could puke.

Nancy Wheeler had always been the girl in Steve’s life. The center of his world. As far as you could tell, the world could only spin for him if she was on it. Even while you were together, it was never really a competition as to who had Steve’s attention.

Leaning against the couch, still staring at the sight, you thought back to one of those times.

The rain poured outside your bedroom window. The drops hit the glass like bullets. Puddles formed near sewer grates and manholes as kids hurried home in their colorful raincoats. The sky was so dark that street lights turned on, illuminating the streets with their yellow glow. You swallowed harshly, your boyfriend Steve was on his way over. It was your weekly movie night, tonight it was Citizen Kane, his pick. The smell of buttery popcorn filled your nose as the crisp pops filled the room, not quite overpowering the rain.

“Oh come on Steve where are you?” You eyed the clock, he was already fifteen minutes late. Being forgiving, you didn’t mind. Maybe he was caught up in the storm?

The minutes that chirped on the clock turned into hours, chiming as each passed by. It was 11pm by the time you gave up. You had waited 4 hours for his arrival, it was almost pathetic, but still you saw the best in your boyfriend.

With a frustrating sigh you clicked the phone back into its receiver after being met with the dial tone for the third time. Deciding to give it a rest, you cleaned up your mess and went to bed. Steve would have to explain himself to you tomorrow but for now, you’d force yourself to sleep.

The halls of school were filled with mud, a reminder of the night before. It had rained well into the morning hours, only stopping recently, leaving the dirt into mud and the roads into little pools of rainwater.

Grabbing your things from your locker, you saw Steve at the end of the hall. Though you were frustrated, a slight smile creeped onto your face as if all had already been forgiven. You turned his way, about to wave him over as a familiar face stepped in front of him. You listened, just in ear shot of their conversation.

“Oh Steve, thank you so much again for your help last night! You were a life saver!” You could tell she was smiling but her words pierced your heart.

“Oh it was no problem, I’m glad I saw you on the side of the road.” The knife pushed a little deeper.

“Yeah me too. And thank you so much for staying for dinner and helping me a bit with studying.” The knife twisted.

“It’s the least I could do, I mean I wasn’t too busy or anything.” And there it was. You were sure everyone could see the blood gushing from your chest, a hole where your heart should’ve been.

The bathroom stall door swung open, the metal clashing as you held in your sobs. How could he? The whole time you waited, the worry you felt. The entire time he had been with her.

You could feel the shake in your hands, the pit in your stomach that relented to disappear. It had all hit you like a brick, Steve had picked her. He had picked Nancy Wheeler over you like you were nothing.

Digging through your bag you ripped out a sheet of notebook paper. The blue lines smeared. It crumpled under your tight grasp but still, you scribbled your message to him.

We’re done.

That was it. Taking a deep breath, wiping the tears from your puffy eyes, you left the bathroom. Trudging your way to his locker you paused, almost unsure if you should do it but something inside told you that if you didn’t, nothing would change.

-

“Y/N? What are you doing here standing alone?” You were brought back into reality by Tammy. She was a good friend of yours, her hand reaching out and grabbing your elbow.

“Oh. Uh, I was just about to head home.” She nodded, distracted as someone called her name, and left you standing there.

Steve found you before you could move.

“What was that note,” he asked. He was holding it now. Creased.

You looked at it. Smaller than it felt when you wrote it.

“You heard,” he said. “You heard in the hall didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“It wasnt like that.”

“It was.”

“I helped her. Thats all.”

“You stayed,” you said quietly. “You didn’t call.”

“She needed me.”

“So did I.”

He went still.

“I didn’t t think,” he started.

“That’s the problem.”

People walked past. Laughed. The world kept going.

“I didnt choose her,” he said.

“You did,” you replied. “You just didnt think it counted.”

He looked wrecked. “Please.”

“I waited,” you said. “Four hours. I defended you to myself the whole time.”

His shoulders dropped.

“I forgave you before you even apologized,” you continued. “Then I heard you say you weren’t busy.”

“I can’t do this again,” you said. “I won’t .”

“You don’t mean that.” He reached his hand out to touch your arm and you flinched back a bit. He closed his eyes tightly. “We can work this out.”

You didnt answer.

“I can fix it,” he said. “Just tell me what you want.”

You met his eyes. “I wanted you to show up.”

He looked away first.

You walked past him. Close enough to catch his cologne. To feel the heat from his warm body. Your hand twitched, desperately wanting to reach back to him, to the familiarity but you pulled it back.

He said your name once.

You didn’t stop.

Outside, the air smelled like wet pavement. The party still going loudly as you began to walk home, alone.

Steve sat back against his headboard, his pants down to his ankles and briefs down his hips. His hard cock was already leaking precum, pooling on his stomach. His leaking tip was fiery red, pulsing as he thought about one thing.

Grabbing his base he closed his eyes, his other hand blindly feeling around his bed. Once his fingers landed on the lace and brought the thin fabric up to his nose. Beginning to jerk his desperate cock, Steve deeply inhaled. Groans spilled from his lips as your scent filled his nose. He opened his eyes to look at the dry wet spot you had left in them. Without thought he stuck out his tongue and licked them, his hand still gripping his length.

“Oh Y/N” He whispered to himself. He knew it was wrong, stealing your panties from your bathroom, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t a hard decision to make.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom real quick.” Steve commented, setting down his pen. He had begged you to tutor him. His grades had been fine, he wasn’t really stuck on the bench but you didn’t know that.

“Okay, I’ll be here.” Your smile, your gorgeous smile, it made his cock twitch in his pants after he turned to the hallway. Inside of the bathroom, he quickly did his business but paused when he saw them. A white pair of lacy panties. He turned on the water, afraid you’d hear his perverted crime somehow. Picking them up, his heart pounded and his cock only grew. He swallowed hard, shoving them deep into his pocket.

“Did you fall in Harrington?” You asked. He smiled, shaking his head.

“How did you guess?”

“Well next time you need help in the bathroom, let me know.” Your words, though lighthearted, filled Steve with thoughts. Thoughts that were wrong. Thoughts of pinning you against the wall. Thoughts of taking your virginity, popping your little cherry and using your tight pussy for himself.

As Steve continued to jerk his cock, his movements grew more vigorous, sloppier. He groaned as he thought of taking control of you and making you his, whether you liked it or not. Taking one last deep inhale, he quickly wrapped your panties around his cock, squeezing tightly, pretending it was you wrapped around him.

“Oh fuck baby.” His hips bucked wildly into the air, thrusting into his tight grip. Moans spilled from his lips. His toes curled and his legs began to shake.

“Oh Y/N p-please.” His eyes tightly shut, his mind racing with perverted thoughts of you. He imagined you rubbing your clit, pinching your sensitive nipples, moaning his name.

“Oh Steve.” You’d say, making yourself feel good.

That was it. It was all too much. His hips bucked wildly as he couldn’t take it, couldn’t hold back anymore. Steve’s hand jerked as the other gripped his bedsheets. With one final moan escaping his lips, his cum shot from his pulsing tip. He continued to jerk as more and more of his white seed sprayed against his stomach, reaching his chest. His cock softened in his hand slightly.

For a few minutes, Steve just lay there, staring at the ceiling. Your panties were still tangled in his fingers, warm from his grip, familiar in a way they shouldn’t be.

He knew he should put them back. Knew this crossed a line he couldn’t uncross.

But as his breathing slowed, one thought settled heavy and certain in his chest.

“Oh Steve” Your moans filled the room as his hands explored every inch of your body. His lips were stuck against your neck, leaving love bites everywhere he could, a clear reminder that you were his.

“Missed you so much,” He groaned between each hickey. “Missed your body.” Your eyes rolled back, his fingers trailing to the waistband of your shorts. He was happily surprised to find you weren’t wearing panties, something he’d definitely punish you for later.

“Fuck please”

“Please what baby?” He came back up, kissing you for a moment before pushing you on your back and kissing his way down your stomach.

“P-please make me feel good.” You mustered out. Without hesitation he ripped your shorts down to be met with your soaking wet folds. Lifting your head to see him, your eyes met his. There was something there, a spark. An evil smile landed on his face. Giving you no time to beg again he dove straight into your wetness.

His tongue split through your puffy folds as it found your clit. Your fingers laced through his hair as your hands pulled him closer to your pussy. Your moans only grew and only encouraged him.

“Fuck daddy,” You moaned, your thighs helplessly closing together as he plunged two fingers inside of your eager hole.

He pulled back only to admire you for a moment. You looked like a goddess falling apart for him. He could stare at you all day. Going back to your clit, he sucked hard and tasted your slick folds.

The bed began to rock as Steve grinded himself on the mattress. His cock longed to be touched, to fill your tight pussy but he wasn’t ready to give in quite yet.

“Yeah baby, squirm for me. You like that?” He continued to plunge his fingers as they curled, hitting your g-spot. “You like daddy’s fingers making you feel good?”

“Y-yes please fuck please.”

“Please what?” You were desperate. You felt a familiar burn in your abdomen and you knew he could feel you tightening too.

“Please, wanna cum on your cock.” He pulled his fingers out and you almost whimpered from the emptiness you felt. You began to sit up but Steve only pushed you back, slapping your face and grabbing your throat.

“Did I say you could get up?” His fingers were tight, your pulse was strong underneath.

“N-no daddy.” You said, giving your best puppy dog eyes to avoid punishment and get what you’ve been longing for.

“You get a pass this time,” He says, standing to only rip his pants down, his cock springing against his stomach. “But next time you won’t be so lucky.” He says getting back onto the bed and lining his tip up with your entrance.

Before you can respond he thrusts unforgivingly hard. With no time to adjust, you scream from the blend of pain and pleasure. He slaps your face once more before wrapping his hand around your throat, bending you in half as he pulls you impossibly closer.

The bed, now slamming against the wall, creaks with his rhythmic thrusts.

“Fuck Y/N you feel so good.” You bite your lip. “Made for me huh?”

“Y-yes I was made for you,” You were screaming, barely able to comprehend what he was saying.

Your tightness clenched around his thick cock. He was already getting close but so were you. His hand reached down from your neck and began to vigorously rub your clit. The burning feeling was back and you were going to explode.

“Please I’m- Im gonna”

“Yeah cum for me baby, cum on this cock.” And that was all it took before you did just that. You clenched right around him as you could feel his thrusts getting sloppier. His pulsing cock shot hot white ropes of cum against your cervix as your thighs shook relentlessly.

As he pulled out, he wiped the sweat that gathered on his brow. Both trying to catch your breath you looked at each other and started laughing. He leaned in and gave you a kiss, checking that you were okay.

“I was only gone for two weeks Steve.” You giggled, laying your head on his sweaty bare chest.

Running into the dark supply closet and barricading the door with anything heavy enough they could find, Y/N and Benny looked at each other with panic. That thing, whatever it was, was still roaming the halls of Whitechapel High looking for them and they could only hope that Ethan and Sarah found somewhere to hide too.

“What even was that thing?” Benny asked as he conjured a candle, using his magic to light the flame. The power to the building was killed the second they went inside. Shrugging, Y/N took this time to catch their breath, leaning against the door and sliding to the ground. They looked at Benny scared, genuinely scared. 

“I’m not sure, but whatever it is, it’s not like anything I’ve seen before. I mean, did you see its eyes?” They whispered, “They were almost human.” The thought sent chills down their spine. Their eyes moved from Benny's to the flame that flickered on the shelf. Y/N could swear they could feel the warmth of the candle in the tiny closet. Their bodies were so close. Benny slid down on the floor next to Y/N, trying his best to steady his breathing. “How are we gonna get out of this one Ben?” Y/N asked and Benny couldn’t help but smile. They were the only one that called him that since they met in eighth grade.  

“I don’t know what we're gonna do. I mean, even Ethan said he had no idea what it was and that his vision wasn’t any help.” Y/N could hear the panic in his voice as he began to talk quickly like he was in a rush. “I tried to zap it with my lightning fingers,” he twinkled his fingers to demonstrate, “But that was no help. I can’t do this. I can’t lose you guys.”

“Ben-”

“I can’t lose my best friend.”

“Benny-”

“I can’t lose you.” 

“Ben!” Y/N whisper shouted, grabbing his hand and tightly squeezing it in their own. He looked down and back up and Y/N longingly.

“I know you’re scared but we’ve been in positions like this before. You’re not going to lose me.” Something slammed into the door, the impact deafening. A sour, earthy stench flooded the closet, and the hair on the back of Y/N’s neck rose. Y/N’s chest tightened. “Oh my god.”

“What? What is it?” Benny squeezed their hand like it was the only thing keeping him there.