jules

He stood outside with you, delicately introducing himself—well, as delicately as he could,

“Hey—Hi, Uh, I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.” You turned your head to look at him but did not respond. “Do you… what’s your name?” You just stare, before silently offering him your arm, letting him see the ‘009’ that has been inked into your skin, but your eyes remain on his face as it scrunches a bit, a hand coming up to gently steady your wrist, and Steve doesn’t like the way it makes you flinch. “Nine?” He continues, “Your name is.. Nine?” 

You give a nod. 

“Nine..” He mumbles, with a nod, “Well, it’s nice to meet you, nines.” He gives you a smile and holds out his hand for you to shake. Again, you stare at him. Like you don’t know what he’s asking. So, gently and slowly, like he’s handling something delicate, he takes your hand and places it in his palm, wrapping his fingers around yours and giving it a firm squeeze. “It’s a handshake.” He explains, and you nod, committing the movement to memory. 

Steve doesn’t say anything about the way you pull back from the warmth, but he watches your face as you finally meet his eyes, before looking back down to your hands. Then, Steve watches as a you shiver, a gust of wind sending goosebumps across your skin. He doesn’t say anything but he does make his way off the porch and to his car, opening the door to the backseat and pulling out an old flannel of his. He goes back to you and hands it to you, and again, you just stare at it. 

“Here.” He says, but when you don’t take it, he sighs and goes around you, wrapping the flannel around your shoulders, when you finally take the hint to slip your arms into the holes, and Steve leaves you with a reassuring pat on the shoulders before stepping back to look at you. It’s big on you. You’re too skinny, and you’re shaking like a leaf, but he doesn’t say that. Instead, he shrugs and smiles. 

“Looks better on you than it ever did on me.” He smiles, and although you don’t fully understand his comment, the look on his face causes the tips of your lips to tilt up, the first semblance of a smile since you’ve gotten here. Steve goes to say something else, but he’s interrupted by the door opening behind the two of you, glancing back to see Hopper and El standing there, as if they’re heading out. 

Hopper looks between you and Steve, and then at your flannel. If he has anything to say about it, he chooses not to. 

“Come on, kid, we’re leaving,” he says, and El smiles a bit to you as she takes your hand in hers and begins to lead you to the car, but before you get too far, you turn and look at Steve again, and tell him, 

“Thank you.” 

Steve gives a halfhearted nod as he tries to remember what the hell he was doing, but all he can do is think about the way you looked in his flannel—the very same flannel you’d be wearing when he kissed you for the first time, and the very same flannel that would be on the floor the first time you slept together. 

-

You and Steve have shared pretty much everything since that night. Clothes, stories, books, cassettes, ear pain, back pain, migraines— Maybe it’s because he recognizes that you don’t have anyone in your corner, making sure you get the chance to enjoy being a teenager, but Steve becomes your teenage culture connoisseur.

He introduced you to all the great artists, taking recommendations from Nancy and eventually Robin (And begrudgingly Jonathan, because even though he’s not a fan, he can’t deny that Byers knows his shit), gave you a long list of movies to watch (So far you like Halloween, It’s A Wonderful Life, and The Wizard of Oz the best), and he makes sure to guide you through all of your firsts.

He gives you a driving lesson in his beamer and you are really bad at it, to the point where Steve makes you promise to call him any time you needed a ride, only being half serious. (He had taught you how to do a pinky promise, noticing how red the tips of your ears got when he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your locked hands. It struck you as romantic, having built up the idea of a relationship in your mind, based on movies and books.)

Steve even takes you to your first real party—which came with a lot of convincing Hopper to even let you go, promising him you’d be back to the cabin by midnight, that he was being the designated driver, and that he would not let you leave his sight. (And he didn’t. He let you have one disgusting glass of jungle juice and glared at a guy trying to flirt with you, even though you didn’t even notice, too busy staring at Steve’s arms through his shirt. When he dropped you off at the cabin at 11:55, you pressed a kiss to his cheek and thanked him—for the ride, for taking you to the party, for everything.)

So really, it shouldn’t come as a shock to you that he’s also your first kiss. 

You’d been at Steve’s for a couple of hours. Robin was here earlier but had decided to ditch the two of you once Vicki called saying she had gotten her shift covered. The two of you sat on the floor of his bedroom, a record he likes playing from the stereo by the door. The sun was starting to set, and Steve was telling you the story of his first girlfriend—

“And we’re starting to really go at it when her damn dad walks in and sends me this look—” He cuts himself off with giggles because of how hard you’re laughing, leaning against him as you try to catch your breath. “It was—it was really bad..” he laughs and shakes his head. “So, what about you?” He wonders.

“What about me?” You ask, looking at him with this big, authentic grin that he knows you could never fake. 

“Your first kiss, what was it like?” And it takes you a second to realize that Steve has forgotten how many years you spent being an experiment, and not a person. It might bother you, if you weren’t swooning over the idea of him seeing you as more than just useful or powerful. You shake your head after a moment. Steve’s eyebrows furrow. Then, they lift in realization. “Oh.” He says, “right. Sorry..” he sighs. 

You shrug.

You’re not great at the whole talking and communicating thing, and Steve is determined to change that. 

“Well, honestly, you’re probably better for it. I was like, thirteen, it was really not that great.” He confessed, “I think I’m better at it now, now that I’ve had more practice.” He’s being humble, wanting to impress you without saying it. “So,” He starts, “If you were going to kiss someone, who would it be?” He wonders, and he watches as your gears start to turn, your face hardening a bit as you begin to think. He thinks you’re crossing people off your list, but you know exactly who you’d kiss if you had the choice, you’re just wondering if Steve knows it would be him, and if he’s making fun of you. 

“Uh..” You start, but the tilt of his head reminds you that Steve is being genuine, so you just smile and shrug, your face warm now. “I don’t know.” 

“Bullshit.” Steve calls, and you begin to play with the sleeves of the flannel he gave you the day you met him. You like when the sleeves fall over your palms. You’re keen on long sleeves, having gotten one too many glances at the weird tattoo on your wrist. You can’t even look at him. He knows you’re keeping it to yourself. His knee nudges yours. “C’mon, Nines, I won’t judge, it’s just a—”

“You.” You finally say, “If.. If I were going to kiss someone, I would kiss you.” You pause. “But I.. would not be very good at it.”

You expect him to laugh. To tease. To torment. Instead, he surprises you. 

“You’d just need a good teacher.” You both look to the other’s face at the same time, and in a rare moment of eye contact, you search for any signs of deceit. He searches for any sign of hesitation. Neither of you find what you’re looking for, and a long moment passes before he continues, “You could kiss me if you wanted.” He shrugs, “I wouldn’t mind..” 

An invitation.

You think about it for a long moment, and Steve is worried that he’s made you uncomfortable, about to tell you that you don’t have to, that it was a stupid thought when you respond—

“Okay. Yeah, Okay,” You nod, “I just.. I just don’t know how to..” You trail off, and Steve realizes you’re asking advice, asking him to make your first kiss as good as possible. He turns his body to face yours, and you mimic his positioning so you’re fully turned to look at one another. 

“Okay, just try to follow my lead,” He starts, “And pull back or, or push me back, or hit me, or—”

“Steve,” You laugh a little, and your hands come up to tuck your hair behind your ears. “I’ll be okay, I promise.” You say softly, and he nods, his turn to blush. 

“Right, of course, I just meant—”

“Steve,” You smile. “Kiss me.” You request, and the way you say it makes him pause. God, he has such a crush on you, it makes him feel like he is thirteen again, desperate to kiss the pretty girl. 

He leans in, slowly to let you get used to the proximity. Then, his eyes flicker down to your lips before landing on your eyes again, the way you’re just looking at him. He wants to remind you to breath, wants to tell you he thinks you’re beautiful (he wonders if anyone’s ever told you before), wants to tell you that he has thought about you every single day since you met, but instead, he settles on closing the distance, and pressing a soft kiss to your lips as his eyes flutter shut. 

It’s.. wetter than you were expecting. Softer, too. And Steve—he’s warmer than you’d have thought, and you almost short circuit when his hands come up to rest on your cheeks. He tastes a little bit like mint, a lot like coffee, and there’s this natural scent of him that fills your senses. When he’s sure he’s kissed you for long enough, he pulls away from the kiss, asking softly, 

“How was that?” 

Your answer comes in the form of leaning forward, chasing his lips, wanting more. He finds himself smiling when your lips land on his, and he takes a moment to deepen the kiss a bit, not wanting to overwhelm you, but he’s finding it hard to hold back. Your hands rest awkwardly at your sides, so as he progresses the kiss, Steve grabs your hands and rests them on his shoulders, before biting at your lower lip, which causes you to make a noise. 

Steve has to pull away after that, catching his breath for a moment. When you move forward to kiss him again, he stops you with a soft laugh, 

“Gotta breathe, baby,” He says softly, “’Sides, We should.. we should talk about—” And your lips are on his again, this time scooching closer to him, and Steve is pulling away far before you’re content, stopping you again. “Hey, Listen..” His chest rises and falls as he looks at you, flushed and breathless. “Nines, I really..” He sighs, “I like you. I like kissing you, too, and I just want to make sure whatever happens, you know that I really do like you and—”

You press a quick kiss to his lips, just to say, 

“I like you too.” You promise, “And.. I like kissing you.” 

“Yeah?” He wonders, his thumb gently moving over your bottom lip. 

“Yeah.” You say softly, and before you know what’s happening, Steve is kissing you again, this time his hands leave your face to rest on your sides, before he’s pulling you into his lap as he leans against his bed, positioning you so your hands rest on his shoulders, and your legs wrap around his waist. It’s a new position—it’s a much more intimate position. You look at him for a long moment and he’s looking back, his hand gently coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face. 

“Nines, you’re so beautiful,” he says, and the way your face flushes makes him sure no one has ever told you before. “So, listen—we can keep kissing and stuff, but we don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with or that—”

“Steve.” You say softly, “I want to.” You’re not stupid—you know what sex is, you were given the talk (Later than everyone else, very awkwardly and by Joyce, but the talk was still given). And you really like Steve. Even if you two never do this again, you know that at the very least you cared about each other deeply, and that you trusted him to be patient with you. 

“You—You do,” He nodded, “Okay, cool—I mean, not cool, but—” You shut him up with a kiss, and Steve can’t help but melt into it, letting out a soft hum. He deepens the kiss, and your hands find his perfect hair, getting lost in his locks as his hands explore your sides, and you shiver as you kiss him, touch starved and perfect (if you were to ask Steve). When his tongue swipes over your bottom lip, Steve remembers you’ve never done this before, so he gives your side a gentle squeeze.

You let out a noise of surprise, and he takes advantage of the way your lips part to slip his tongue inside of your mouth, taking his time to explore. You distract yourself by playing with his hair as he pulls you closer. Once you get over the awkward texture of another tongue in your mouth, you lean into it, pulling yourself closer to Steve. 

Your hips shift against him, and Steve just moans into your mouth, blood rushing to his crotch as you do. The feeling of his growing hardness eggs you on, and Steve’s teeth bite your bottom lip as—

You two are interrupted by a loud, sharp ringing coming from the phone that sits on Steve’s nightstand. 

You pull away from each other for just a moment, before Steve gives his head a gentle shake, a dismissive look on his face, 

“Probably not important,” and he goes to kiss you as you answer, 

“Probably not,” and your lips meet his, ignoring the shrill ringing of the phone for a few minutes as you try to focus on the sound of Steve’s heavy breathing, the feeling of your fingers in his hair the—

Ring! Ring! Ring! 

You don’t even stop kissing him, your lips locked onto his as your arm swipes the air in the general direction of the phone, as it is knocked off the nightstand with a woosh!, the handset landing on its back away from the base, but at least it’s stopped ringing, and at least your freaky powers come in handy. 

Your hand starts to move down Steve’s chest when you hear Hopper’s voice coming from the speaker of the phone. 

“Hello? Anyone there?” 

“Shit,” You mumble as you peel yourself away from Steve, scrambling to grab the phone and pressing it to your ear. “Hey, uh, Hi, Hop,” You say, trying to catch your breath and your train of thought at the same time. Your hand comes up to wipe saliva off your lips. 

“Hey, kid. What are you up to?” 

You tense.

“Watching a movie.” You cover your face with your free hand, rubbing your eyes to try and find some sense.

“Oh yeah? Who all is there?” 

Your eyes peek between your fingers to Steve, looking at you with his messy hair and the bulge in his jeans. 

“Uh.. me, Steve and Robin.” 

“Huh, okay.. I just wanted to see if you needed a ride home, or if—”

“Can I stay at Robin’s tonight?” You ask before you can stop yourself. Maybe it’s a little presumptuous to assume that Steve wants to spend all night together, but you’d like to try.

“Oh, uh, sure. Okay, just call me if you need anything, alright, kid?” 

“Mhm. You got it.” 

“And hey, do me a favor... Make sure Harrington is on his best behavior, okay?” 

That almost makes you laugh, if it weren’t for how horribly embarrassed you feel.

“..Sure. Okay, bye, Hop, Goodnight, see you tomorrow.” Before he can say much else, you’re leaning over and putting the phone back in it’s proper place, not leaving him any chance to keep talking. You take a deep breath, before glancing back at Steve, who is being very patient. Just the way he’s looking at you makes you smile. 

A silence falls over you, Steve’s record filling the room. Then, Steve holds his hand out to you, 

“C’mere,” and his invitation is so soft that you find yourself moving before you can really think about it, your hand finding his as you sit back down on his lap. “You look perfect.” He whispers as his hands wander your thighs, his eyes studying your face. 

“You are very pretty.” You say, and it makes him chuckle a little, which makes you giggle. And then his lips are on yours, before moving from your lips to your jaw, then your neck, and you begin to lose yourself in the feeling when he pulls back. 

“’m gonna..” Steve sighs, “’m gonna start to really touch you, okay? Stop me if you want me to stop, or anything feels wrong, or even if you just need a second.. okay?” He asks gently, and you nod. “No, c’mon, baby, I gotta hear you say it.” 

“Okay,” You say, “I’ll stop you if I need to.” You promise, and he smiles, kissing your cheek softly. 

“Good,” His fingers begin to wander your torso, slipping under your shirt to explore the skin of your stomach. You shiver again as goosebumps run across your skin, and Steve wastes no time moving to the waistband of your jeans, unbuttoning and tugging down the zipper. Then, his hands leave your body to tug off his tee shirt, and he smirks at how red your face gets. You echo his movement by taking off the flannel he gave you, and then your own tee shirt. 

Your hand comes to his cheek and his head turns to press a kiss to your palm, fingers catching your wrist. He glances down at the small tattoo on it—‘009’. You tense, wanting to pull away from him, but he presses a kiss to the old ink, and then he kisses you again. As you kiss, he tugs your jeans down, helping you out of them before he’s pulling you close again. His fingers wander across the waistband of your underwear, and his fingers run over the damp spot in the front, and you shiver, instinctually grabbing his wrist. 

Steve pulls away from your lips when he feels that.

“What? What’s wrong?  Is.. is this okay?” You nod, your face red. Your heart is racing. You’re nervous, and every movement is making you tense. And Steve notices. He doesn’t tell you this because he doesn’t want to freak you out, but if you don’t relax, nothing he’s about to do will make you feel as good as he wants it to. So he takes a moment to rub your thighs, leaning in and pressing kisses down your neck and shoulders. “C’mon, baby, need you to relax for me,” 

You lean against him, starting to plant kisses to his collarbone and shoulders, trying to lose yourself in him so you’re not blocking yourself from this experience. When he’s sure you’re busy with that, Steve’s fingers wander down to rub small circles into your clit, moving a bit faster when you gasp and start to move your hips for more. His fingers slip past the waistband of your underwear and circle your clit directly, and the next thing you know, one of Steve’s fingers has slipped inside you. You moan at the feeling, already feeling full. 

“I know,” he says softly, “I know, pretty girl.. You’re doing so well for me, my pretty, perfect thing..” His words cause you to move your hips a bit, and he slips a second finger in as he continues to talk, “God, you’re clenching around my fingers—you’re so fucking tight, nines, oh my god,” He leans in and presses a hot kiss to your neck as you whine against him, his hands starting to shake as you grip his arms. 

“Steve,” You whimper out, and he nods, shushing you gently, 

“I know, I know.. I’ve got you, baby, I just..” His fingers spread out inside of you, stretching you in the best way possible. “Gotta make sure you’re ready to take me.” He says softly, eyes glued on you as you ride his fingers. 

You can feel something build up in your stomach, a tightness that feels strange in your core. 

“S-Steve,” You whimper, and his lips find yours, humming softly, and when he pulls away, he nods, 

“I know, baby, I know, just keep doing what you’re doing, I’ll take such good care of you,” He promises, and because Steve has always followed through on his promises, you trust him. You ride his fingers despite the way your thighs shake, Steve’s free hand on your hips as he leads you to your first orgasm—of the night and ever, but you suspect Steve knows that by now. 

“Steve,” You whine out again, so fucking close, “I’m… I need to—” Steve catches your lips with his, muttering against yours, 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know, baby,” And then his fingers pause. “Say please.” 

The request makes your head spin, 

“Steve,” You whine, and Steve mocks your whine with a whine of his own, and in the back of your mind, you suspect he’s making fun of you, but you can’t find it in yourself to be mad at him. 

“You keep saying my name like that,” He hums, brushing some sweaty hair that sticks to your forehead out of the way, “but you can’t even say please? Can’t even use that pretty voice,” He kisses your neck when he says that, “And ask for what you want?” Your hips roll again, and Steve smirks. 

You take a sharp inhale in. 

“Please, can I come?” You ask, and Steve is tempted, oh, so tempted to deny you, to ask you to hold on just a little longer; But he had promised to be nice, to take good care of you, and Steve never breaks his promises to you. 

“Yeah, go ahead, baby, let go for me,” He says, and you try to silence your moan as you finally cum by kissing him, but he wants to hear your pretty noises, so his free hand comes up to stop you just as you go to kiss him. It sends something between desperation and frustration down your spine. You want to kiss him. 

You ride out your high while Steve’s fingers start to gently move again, just enough to help you through it, whispering soft nothings in your ear. His lips press against your skin, biting down when he finds your pulse, and it makes you shiver again, in a warmer way. When your hips come to a stop, he slowly withdraws his fingers, smiling at the noise you make, before kissing you softly. 

In a very fluid, impressive motion, Steve wraps his arms around you and stands up, sort of hopping onto the bed, taking you with him. He lays you down in his bed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, telling you, 

“I’ll be right back, I gotta grab—”

You interrupt him by trying to pull him closer, still after the kiss you felt you were owed. He smirks, knowing exactly what you want from him. But he stops before his lips find yours—

“Use your words, baby, let me hear you.” He prompts, and you have half a mind to stand your ground but you miss the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Kiss,” You request softly, and Steve hums in approval before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, before pulling away only slightly to move around his room—first, he gets a water bottle you had opened earlier and places in your hand. Then, he changes the album to something smooth, something easy-going. It sets the mood. Finally, he digs through the nightstand and find the condoms he kept there—because Steve always keeps one on hand. Just in case. 

And as badly as he might want to feel you warp around him without the barrier, he knows this is the right thing to do—for now. There could be a conversation for a while, but for now, he wanted to play it safe. 

He comes back and without asking climbs right on top of you, stretching out as he knelt above you, popping the muscles in his back. You glance down to his boxers, noticing the spot on them. Your heart skips a beat, and suddenly, he’s kissing you again, kissing you roughly as his hands move down to your underwear, pulling them down, past your ankles and tossing them somewhere near your flannel on the floor. He’s then working to pull off his boxers, reaching blindly for the condom he grabbed, ripping it open and pulling away only so he could see what he was doing. 

He looks down as he rolls the condom on, stroking his hard cock as he glances back to you, one hand drifting to your leg, gently pushing it up so he could have better access but not without pressing a kiss to your leg, his fingers gently rubbing up and down your leg. 

“How’re you feeling, baby?” He asks gently, and you smile up to him. But you know he wants to hear you, wants you to check in. 

“Good.” You promise, 

“Just good?” His fingers wander down to your cunt, still dripping for him. You shiver and correct—

“Amazing.” You hum, unable to hide how your smile widens. Steve smiles and lean down, pressing a kiss to your lips. He pulls away after a few minutes to tell you, 

“Okay, hey, I’m uh.. I’m gonna fill you up now, alright?” He hums, “It’s gonna feel weird at first, but we’re gonna take our sweet time, alright?” 

“Alright,” You promise, and Steve lines himself up with your entrance, before bringing your hand to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the pads of your fingers, 

“Just relax for me, baby, deep breathes.. ‘s gonna feel so good when I fill you..” He whispers, leaning down to kiss you again, before slowly pushing inside you. Your moan is muffled by his mouth, and he pauses before he can go much further than an inch, “Doin’ okay, baby?” His lips find your cheek, and he kisses you again, and you nod with a hum, 

“’m good,” You mumble against his lips, and his forehead rests against yours as he slowly, agonizingly pushes further into you, eventually bottoming out. You gasp out a sob, your legs shaking. He frowns and presses kisses to your cheeks, 

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry, do you want me too—” When he moves to pull out, you grab him, your fingers locking into his. And you squeeze his hand, the same way he had squeezed yours the night you met. 

“I just need a second,” You promise quietly, and he nods, pressing soft, gentle kisses to your face, and a grin forms, his eyelashes kissing your skin, tickling you. Your free hand comes up to his arm, gently rubbing idle circles up and down his arm. You inhale softly, before nodding, “Okay.. Okay, I’m ready.” You inhale, and Steve nods, kissing you quickly. He pulls away to tell you, 

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around me this—Squeezing me so tight.. fucking perfect for me,” he praises, his voice cracking into something like a whine as he begins to thrust inside you—slowly at first. His pace increases slowly, and his free hand comes down to your clit to rub circles into it like he had earlier. When you let out a gasp, and wiggle your hips like you’re trying to get away, Steve panics, “Hey, It’s okay—” He moves to take his hand away but your hand that was resting on his arm comes down to keep his fingers on your clit. Steve nods in understanding, “Okay, Okay, I got you, baby,” he promises, “Put your hand back on my arm, there you go, my good girl,” He praises, his voice soft. 

He looks so pretty like this. His hips begin to pick up pace, and he’s moaning your name, and a babble of sweet praises, and you can already feel yourself beginning to drift. Steve grabs your chin as he sees your eyes rolling back, 

“Hey, let me hear you, baby,” he demands softly, and squeezes so that your mouth is open. You let out a moan, satiating him as he rubs rough, quick circles into your clit. “Yeah, I know, I know,” he bites your neck again, “Bein’ so fucking good for me, fuck—” His eyes squeeze tight. Between his size and the way you squeeze around him, he won’t even last long. Cumming in two minutes like a fucking teenager-- but he can’t help himself, you just look that pretty like this, babbling and moaning while full of his cock. “Gettin’ close, sweet girl?” He asks softly, and all you can do is whimper—but Steve bites your neck, a silent command,

“Yes!” You squeak out, “Yes, ‘m close, please—” Your voice is meek, desperate and full of love. You want him close, as close as he could get. You’d be happy to stay here forever, but Steve loves you too much to keep you here. 

“I know,” he nods, “Holy—You’re amazing, you’re so beautiful, I can’t get enough of you,” he confesses to you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. “So good for me, so fuckin’ pretty, c’mon,” he urges, thrusting deeper into you, at a faster pace. Your hand squeezes moves back to his arm, trailing up to his perfect hair. “C’mon, let go for me, come all over my cock,” He tells you, pressing kisses to the skin of his jaw as he talks to you. 

The moans that leave your mouth as you cum push him over the edge, coming with a string of curses, chopped up by moans of your name falling from his lips. He stills inside you when you both go quiet, letting you both take a moment to breath. 

Steve can’t focus on anything except the way you look, laying under him, at your interlocked hands, and you gently tug his hair to push a kiss to his lips, and he genuinely whimpers at the sensation. When he’s had a moment, he slowly pulls back from you, to say, 

“Still with me, baby?” he asks quietly. You take a beat before nodding gently. 

Steve pinches your side. 

Right. Words. 

“I’m with you,” you promise, “I do not know if I can move.” It comes out kind of dazed sounding, a giggle accompanying it. 

“That’s alright,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your pulse point again before adding, “I’ll carry you to the shower. Promise.”